sweet boom pungent pickle orange

the thing is. im gonna get what i need even if it kills us all

i read that ny mag story about those midtier litfic writers who pulled a fleetwood mac and it was exactly as annoying as youd think itd be and one of the men was specifically referred to as handsome so i did in fact google him and he looks exactly like an aged-up version of this dickhead i was infatuated with when i was 18 because theyre just both members of a species of guy you find in major north american cities. consensus seemed 2 be that hes the worst writer of the bunch big fan of that

period shits are a nightmare adderall shits are cleansing. really says something about america

i dont go on a lot of Real Dates so one of the dumber things i do is like. when im about to go out with a man my brain starts going "well actually i might be a lesbian" and when im about to go on a date with a woman its "you know im lying to myself im just a straight woman" because in the end the important thing is that im nervous and confused

the main driving force in my life is acquiring information. if you ever see me doing something stupid please understand its because i have probably developed some bizarre idea about how to acquire more information and i have disregarded other concerns ("safety," "politeness") in favor of my ultimate goal. what am i going to do with this information? nothing at all. i am going to sit on it like a dragon sits on its golden hoard. dragons dont need gold to buy anything they are just using it as some type of really big couch or sensory sand type of situation. this is my relationship to information. in the past i have been happy to eat villagers in order to acquire my information but i am trying to be better now and only blackmail them, which i understand is more polite in many human cultures. im losing track of this metaphor. someone tell me a secret.

Sometimes out in the world i run into an old man with a round face and a heavy eastern european accent, and he does something minimally kind for me, and i think to myself "wow what if grandpa was nice." This isnt anything especially serious i want to be clear, my grandpa was just not much with the smiling and joking and such. Anyway i just think that sometimes.

deep into the british comedy an inertia phase of unemployment. goign to try to forcibly end it next week and launch into "frantic applications"

either im experiencing a smidge of anhedonia or im juuuuust on the verge of another hypomanic eppy or im in the actual middle of a depressive one. who knows!!!!!!!!!

its possible i am dying of a lack of attention. if the people around me (only the fun and interesting ones that i respect, NOT boring people. and also some new fun and interesting people i respect who will just show up and i dont have to go find them) dont start giving me more real in-person attention i will wither and die.

i hate when i have a night free and i cant get like Into something, no reading, no movie, no rabbit hole, no music - nothings satisfying im just switching between tabs and wandering around. hell

January is bad

I would like to be alone in a big house in the middle of nowhere for several weeks just tooling around and knowing nobody is looking at me or talking about me or thinking about me