The Exhibition: Writing notes

the notes for this one.

The Exhibition: Writing

The Exhibition: Writing
sammy_808@live.com
http://sammytriesagain.blogspot.com/2016/02/the-exhibition-writing.html

i just wrote some

not for any of the unfinished stories, and not anything porn related, but something, and that's more than i've been doing.

memory hole shit here. sorry.

i write posts.

i send my boss emails.

i watch videos that put songs into my head to be stuck there for days.

i do all this drunk off my ass and blissed out on a variety of drugs that are totally legal.

totally fucking legal.  you can get so much brain alteration on the quick without much trouble.

but not xanax.  you know, that thing that actually solves problems.  the one that makes you not a crying mess in front of your friends and parents.  that's controlled.  with all sorts of fucking hoops to get through.

"i don't think you need that," she said, looking at me like i was sane.  "That seems excessive."

this is why i'm super down on this therapy try.  i want something to take to make me not panic about everything.  i want to be able to go get taco bell without worrying about pissing myself.

so.  here's my wishlist for 2016.

hawaii sorts out that bullshit medical marijuana shit, and i can get that from doctors who are ok with being cool.  my friend in california seems to have done that, and doesn't get the worry/panic i live with.

we elect hilary.  or, bernie.  i am so agnostic on this, i can't put it into words.  i want someone who isn't going to call for me to be stabbed in the neck their first day in office.  "but sammy, what about marco rubio?  he seems like not a nazi!"  yeah.  and he's going to stand up to people who are all "gay people are good for burning so we can warm"?


i mean... when your options are crazy fucking jerks who want to murder you for not being cool with rape, their friends, and people who are like, "hey, maybe let's help people not be in poverty", how is that an option.

ok.

time to get more super drunk and pass out.

whatever.

really?

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yeah.  i totally want some dick "scanner" up in my internet pussy.  whatever.

i'm dealing with david bowie videos not linking right anymore.  7-11.  or whatever. just, this isnt working anymore.  just not working ever.

it's never going to be alright ever again.  just not going to.

never.

i need to do an update thing

i'm 57 pages back on pixiv.  fucking forever back there.  i'm going to be delayed until like june.

ok, not june, but 57 fucking pages.  there's a lot of porn i need to consume before i'm up-to-date.

i did the therapy.  i'm not super optimistic.  it turns out "that seems like junky behavior" might actually be junky behavior.  she was all "i don't think you need drugs, but if we do drugs, it'd probably be the antidepressants that made masturbating so hard."  wonderful.

and she was kind of dismissive of my concerns.  not cool.  i'm beginning to think i got the best ever therapist first, and have been dealing with reject morons ever since.

so, i have three more dates scheduled.  maybe i'll stick to them, maybe i'll message her and suggest she go fuck herself.  i've spent a lot of showers wasting water thinking about how shit that session was.

i sucked at writing.  i was going to write a bunch, and then didn't.  no reason.  just didn't.  key has a new thing out.  it's a review, not a new story, but is like, "go read a book," and i have to be all "i have lots of books i haven't read!" because i'm shit at reading books.

"being shit" seems to be my new catchphrase for 2016.  sorry about that.

"so, hey, sammy.  got any thoughts on how to do 2016 better?"

sure.

1. tell you to listen to music i like more.  not everyone is dead yet, so there's good stuff out there.
2. finis some of the stories i aven't.
3. determine why h doesn't always sow up.
4. probablye should do 2 on my new laptop.
5. tis one seems junk.
6. try not to die.  "duh, that's easy." ha ha, live with this brain for a week, jerkington.
7. "not all presidents can be insults."  fine, president fucksavelt.  douche quincy fuck-you.  james k wank.

oh no, don't say it's true.

please?

i got back from travel.  i'm super tired and exhausted, and just really want to go to sleep.

but then i check my twitter, and i see the news.


i'm going to listen to some more music for a bit, and then go to sleep, and hope that this is all just a nightmare, and i'll awake to happier tidings.