Tuesday, May 31, 2016
an update
still dealing with things in the way i pretend i think sane people do it. i am taking out trash. i am murdering bugs with cleaning fluids. i am wondering if "termites" are something you can treat with regular poisons, since i can't seem to find poisons that do that.
i am wondering if i should just post summaries, and pretend i wrote a story i couldn't pull myself to write.
i have a lot of these outlined stories that i just can't motivate myself to make real.
sorry.
does anyone think that's good? or sufficient? i want to write the full story, but i never do. for like a year, i never do. if i never write something, what happens then?
so, hey, go look at the tumblr, go get the porn done, look at my sad wikipedia pages, and hopefully be sad in sympathy.
would anyone be happy if i just sketched how things would go, and then never wrote it? would that ruin any actual stories that i can push out?
i don't know anymore, and my favorite authors seemed to have stopped, so maybe there's just a point where it doesn't click anymore.
i am wondering if i should just post summaries, and pretend i wrote a story i couldn't pull myself to write.
i have a lot of these outlined stories that i just can't motivate myself to make real.
sorry.
does anyone think that's good? or sufficient? i want to write the full story, but i never do. for like a year, i never do. if i never write something, what happens then?
so, hey, go look at the tumblr, go get the porn done, look at my sad wikipedia pages, and hopefully be sad in sympathy.
would anyone be happy if i just sketched how things would go, and then never wrote it? would that ruin any actual stories that i can push out?
i don't know anymore, and my favorite authors seemed to have stopped, so maybe there's just a point where it doesn't click anymore.
Saturday, May 14, 2016
here. my music. wake me up.
i hope that's the song i want it to be.
i hope it has the anxiety and shame and hatred i feel everyday.
i made a god out of blood. it was probably a mistake. sorry everybody. i am bad at decisions, and i think i fucked this up.
wow
sitting here, listening to music i remember from college.
CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT
turns out some things keep triggering when you don't expect them to.
i didn't. i really want to, but i didn't.
i have a new dream shit story coming soon, probably. unless i don't. it's super gross, and i kind of hate it, but it's the me that's here now, so i should cope as much as i can.
CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT
turns out some things keep triggering when you don't expect them to.
i didn't. i really want to, but i didn't.
i have a new dream shit story coming soon, probably. unless i don't. it's super gross, and i kind of hate it, but it's the me that's here now, so i should cope as much as i can.
Thursday, May 12, 2016
ugh i need to post more here
hopefully everyone found the tumblr, where i spit out the porn i enjoy as it cascades over me. i could better use this time, but gaining support via blind clicking on cute things is easy, and doesn't set of my weirdness.
currently i have three unsorted threads in the "exhibition" story, and i should fucking sort those out. i'm a jerk for not doing that, and i should try to pull some level of concentration to try to close some of these down.
so: state of sammy's mental state.
i stopped therapy again. when you get the feeling your therapist wants you to craft a pinterest page about what you like, that's probably the point where you decide your therapist is pretty shitty.
I WANT A PUPPY, BITCH! MY APARTMENT DOESN'T ALLOW PUPPIES! SO, LOOKS LIKE WE"VE GOT THE BEEF!
also, she was just kind of awful at everything. sorry my panic attacks don't live up to expectations. Guess i'll just be cool when i puke out lunch into a plastic bag. NOT A BIG DEAL, RIGHT?
so
i'm coasting again, on hopes and dreams. which aren't super helpful when you look to them and get "THE VOID" and "HORRIBLE NIGHTMARES"
but i'm like 94% not likely to kill myself anymore, because sometimes you meet someone so super cute you can't not just want to push them forward as much as you can, and if that means you light on fire some day, hey, fire can be anywhere.
i can't imagine how people would explain my suicide to tiny R. so. that's not an option any more.
which unfortunately means
dealing with grown up shit.
who pulled 22 bags of garbage out of her apartment?
who awkwardly scheduled a dentist appointment to look at this clearly fucked up tooth?
who is actually keeping those 22 bags of garbage out of the apartment, so they can't pile up?
as of right now, today, may 12, i am kind of sanely managing my shit.
i aim to keep things less fucked up, but hey, it's hard when you kind of surf along on a muck of self hatred.
this is better than before, i think. it's not great, obviously, but it's not angry panic. there is anger, and there is panic, but they are consoling, not reinforcing.
currently i have three unsorted threads in the "exhibition" story, and i should fucking sort those out. i'm a jerk for not doing that, and i should try to pull some level of concentration to try to close some of these down.
so: state of sammy's mental state.
i stopped therapy again. when you get the feeling your therapist wants you to craft a pinterest page about what you like, that's probably the point where you decide your therapist is pretty shitty.
I WANT A PUPPY, BITCH! MY APARTMENT DOESN'T ALLOW PUPPIES! SO, LOOKS LIKE WE"VE GOT THE BEEF!
also, she was just kind of awful at everything. sorry my panic attacks don't live up to expectations. Guess i'll just be cool when i puke out lunch into a plastic bag. NOT A BIG DEAL, RIGHT?
so
i'm coasting again, on hopes and dreams. which aren't super helpful when you look to them and get "THE VOID" and "HORRIBLE NIGHTMARES"
but i'm like 94% not likely to kill myself anymore, because sometimes you meet someone so super cute you can't not just want to push them forward as much as you can, and if that means you light on fire some day, hey, fire can be anywhere.
i can't imagine how people would explain my suicide to tiny R. so. that's not an option any more.
which unfortunately means
dealing with grown up shit.
who pulled 22 bags of garbage out of her apartment?
who awkwardly scheduled a dentist appointment to look at this clearly fucked up tooth?
who is actually keeping those 22 bags of garbage out of the apartment, so they can't pile up?
as of right now, today, may 12, i am kind of sanely managing my shit.
i aim to keep things less fucked up, but hey, it's hard when you kind of surf along on a muck of self hatred.
this is better than before, i think. it's not great, obviously, but it's not angry panic. there is anger, and there is panic, but they are consoling, not reinforcing.
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