The Gentle Profound

The godless beast, with its wretched meal, provided gladly by god herself

guy working on an artwork they knew would push them technically: what the hell why do i keep doing this wrong. am i haunted by malevolent spirits and such

they sell items at tjmaxx that even God is not aware of

*genuinely absorbed zero information* got it

love the genre of discourse that’s like “the world used to be [thing it never was] but now society is [I’m over thirty]”

cd has a hole. record has a hole. casette has 2 holes. streaming? zero holes. i think i’ve made my point

you know those studies showing that cursing helps with pain tolerance or whatever. that’s how i feel about making my weird little noises to get through my basic daily activities. sometimes you just have to go hggblaaaah for a minute so you can find the strength within yourself to get up or wash the dishes or send an email. mmmnneh. urgh. the torments are unending but you can always make some little sounds about it.

blogging is too dignified a term for what i’m doing on here

eating rice, there's definitely an upper limit to how much you can eat, but thinking about it in abstract? when filling a plate? it's hard to conceive of it. that's what makes it so dangerous