Probably one of the best fits I’ve seen. Insane girl but omg. The psycho bitches have drip.

When I look at her, I forget everything. I think she knows I live to forget.

The cashier at the shroom store had small glasses and big tits. Cute face. Shy demeanour. Will definitely be heading back for a re-up in a few hours.

I’m so fucking tired. I hate landlords. I hate woke. I hate cops. Asking to be treated like a human really just ends in you having to take life or die trying.

A girl literally swooned when she touched my hand last night. Couldn’t believe it and whispered to her friend about it as I walked away. I thought to myself, it is a disgraceful thing to touch me.

Later another woman, my age and more drug addicted gripped my rip cage and tried to convince me to go to some hippy music festival. I looked her dead in the eyes and said, I’d rather not be around anyone while on drugs. She pouted and pestered me more.

Spent the rest of the night comparing PSLs with the boys, wrestling and talking about work wives.

Guitars were made by the Antichrist

(Talent show offering a prize of GTA 6 in my city)

What’s your band name?

>I’m just here for GTA6

What genre of music do you make?

>I’m just here for GTA6

Why do you guys make music?

>I’m just here for GTA6

(Staring at the camera) I don’t think I can get hard.

I could settle for a Becky.

Vandalizing flock cameras sounds like an excellent date idea.

I have a pretty public life. There’s a ton of myself documented, tons of cringe takes. Most I don’t stand by anymore. Some feelings too, I’d rather not exist publicly.

I have this friend who is constantly in the process of documenting. Multiple websites as well that contain years of creating and attempts at community building. Not to mention more public facing social media. Everything is logged. Every failure, every drama, every triumph, every song, every moment.

I fear nothing is sacred. I’m literally seeing my life building up around me as I grow up and every moment of it is recorded *in* the world. All of it I don’t really control. Everyone around me is making content. Governments collect it. Companies exploit it. Forces I never knew I was at war with until recently. There are fewer and fewer silences I’ll die with. It’s like the constant buzz of telephone wire, 5G and satellites are taking them away.

It’s hard not to lose myself to that infernal buzz. What it creates out of thin air. A beings being of sorts which gets in the way of connection. In every kiss. In every infinite moment. Its hum softly sings.

The worst part, I’ll hear the people closest to me sing it. I want to fight it. Want to believe I can. But everyone seems much happier mumbling the words. Just like me. Self obsessed yet totally disconnected from ourselves. We chant an incantation of unknowable origin until…
I wonder what the suicide rates are.

—-
Us has become a song in the world written by a machine made of sky. So this is why I scream when I tell you the truth.

layer-08-14:12

We create together. Forwards and backwards through time. A single voice. A melody of sorts. For being and time. For ourselves and others. For nothing at all.

Singing beautiful songs and creating together. Our dearly cherished silences. All I’ll remember too is the music. I love you.

Mori and Dori, living happily.

Goyfest held at Agatha sponsored by every single bank.

Telling women I do meth tonight as an occupation whenever they ask. Fit.

If they diagnose me as clinically retarded I’m sure the sun will shine brighter and the birds will sing happy birthday.

I am your animal. Wild at heart and kept in your cage. Made of finger nails and calloused hands. Tight around that wild thing. Ensnared. Captured. Cold. Kept. Tamed.

“You’re rather pretentious and self absorbed. More than a little delusional.”

And you still want to fuck me.

(first irl meet up with a discord egirl) I look deeply, sensitively, longingly, into her eyes. You will never be loved, my darling angel.