Friday, March 30, 2018

Rachael notes

sorry i spoiled a story that's pretty old.

The Exhibition: Rachael

The Exhibition: Rachael

Saturday, December 9, 2017



started antidepressants again.  this time they seem to be doing a way better job than previously.  it's nice not wanting to kill myself everyday.  it's like a whole new world that's probably what other people live all the time.

so that's nice.

i also applied and was accepted for a new job.  that means i'm going to be moving to the mainland.  which is kind of super stressful and all that, but i don't like my current job, and this is a big opportunity.

i don't think i'm going to be advertising the area code i'm moving to, so don't bother with that.  it's a big change by itself, and i'd prefer not to have to worry about random people stalking me because of my porn account.

that said, i might start writing again.  the antidepressants make masturbating a struggle, but they clear my brain of a lot of the unpleasantness.  i have one story outlined, and a second vaguely sorted, and a third idea that could be clearer, but is better than i've been in a year.

no promises.  the world still sucks, there are still fascists out there that hate me, and people could be kinder but aren't.  we'll see if i feel comfortable with this.

so, hey.  here's a 2017 update before the new year.  wasn't this a shitball of a year?

fucking hope next year is better.

Tuesday, November 8, 2016

voting notes.

also future stuff.

The Exhibition: Voting

The Exhibition: Voting

Saturday, September 17, 2016


i wonder if other people just get random thoughts like this.

"hey.  it's been a while.  maybe cutting your arm a lot hurts less now?  i bet it'd be fun to lick that blood up before it stains the sheets.  it's like a party!"

pretty much out of nowhere.

thanks, brain.  thanks for being sucky about everything.

thanks for fucking up everything, all the time, every day.  Good fucking job.

Sunday, July 31, 2016

dream thing

i'm visiting someone, or travelling, or something?

but it's bedtime, and there are like three other people, but they're all mummified, or in sleep sacks, and they're quietly moaning and stuff.  i have an air mattress instead, and i lie down.

a few minutes later, i start to freak out, and for the first time ever, i'm pretty sure i had a panic attack while sleeping.  in the dream, i sit on the floor, and dig my fingers into the carpet, and just hold on as everything goes dark from tunnel vision.  i'm struggling to get my breathing to calm down, but nothing seems to help.

a tall lady who bound everyone else comes over and sits next to me.  she doesn't touch me, but she just talks to me in a soft voice that she's there, and that i'm safe, and nothing bad is going to happen.  i want to ask her to tie me up too, so that i don't have to make any decisions, but i'm just too scared to do anything but claw at the floor.

then i woke up and hugged a pillow until my heart stopped pounding so hard.

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

i mean

i'm thinking seriously about calling my dad and asking if this is a dumb thing to do.

my dad.

"sammy, you've never talked about your dad before!"


omg.  wtf am i doing?

i am bad with intimate relationships, and i am equally bad at choosing healthy ways to connect with people.  also jobs.  i'm kind of a fuck up.  sorry!