HK Blog

I think I've found my least favorite track from the fab four. Whatever. It's so procedural, y'know, it's stuff like that where I kind of understand why they used to rag on Paul so much. Tripe. It's so sickly, it possesses me to think of the worst sort of bliss that life would muster. I'm dissappointing her. I'm dissappointing her by revealing myself, I guess. I'm not the sort of person to hide and betray the hopes of my peers. I must be honest in elucidating just how thorough this depression has robbed me of an ability to want. Just as well, I've a strong inclination towards suicide. Bit of a laugh, maybe. It's only offset by the events I've got lined up. After the Chicago trip, there's nothing to look forward to. I have to stay busy. I have to find something. Anything. I have to distract myself from the feeling of it. I don't have that in the moment, save for my wishes to finish the manuscript. If I'm not able to distract myself....

Today I don't believe in anything and I want to die, but none of that matters. I am trying to do good things anyways. I somehow have to find a way to be optimistic, despite how murky the waters may seem. The transfer to Manal was unsuccessful. The money was refunded by PayPal for whatever reason, and she's not getting my messages. This family reunion planning debacle... whatever. Ibrahim sent me those videos, you know... he says his daughter has Smallpox. I'm a bit beside myself, you know. I thought that surely he must have meant "chickenpox." Smallpox was eradicated, as far as I know... but I can't put it past this world to inflict that sort of suffering.  I just have to pray that things get better. I don't believe in anything today. But I will be optimistic, not for my own sake. I have to believe in a better future for them. I was talking to Cronkite irl recently, I tried my best to elucidate on the concepts behind Galahad, but I could feel myself minimi...

Right now, with the plates I've got spinning, I'm just hoping the ground doesn't shake too soon, right? I've got this promotion I'm waiting on, I've got to stay tidy for the new cat, I'm checking on my girls in Gaza, I've got my friends in the orgs and my friends in Ferndale, I've got to manage finances on a shitty salary, and I've got to keep going with my music and my art. Sometimes I miss something else, but it only makes sense, y'know. I guess sometimes I forget I'm only human, since I try to go above and beyond what I'm afforded through creature comforts and subsistence, right? The lady at No.1 Chinese Food seems to recognize me now, it's nice to see a smile. I like being a regular at my favorite places, I'm a real sucker for community connection.

I've a notion of social selectivity. I'm much pickier, now. I will not be inviting any more guests or characters into my home. I'm pulling up the drawbridge, in a manner of speaking. I am not unhappy, and I am not angry. I am disappointed. Big difference. This is a trying season. It is the most expensive season. It is the most bothersome and cruel. I find that peers care very little for the circumstances of those less fortunate in the summer months. It is, truly, a season where the fool has their day. I do not need anything like that in my presence, not right now. I will not afford the enemy an inch. Isolationism. A tad fascistic, I must admit. I'll let them imagine. Just a little bit. I think that I'll allow myself the company of those I've already accepted into the court of my heart. But I cannot do with the shocks and surprises. I can hear you in there, laugh it up. I'm well aware. It's not about certainties, it's about temperament. Tolerances, an...

Its another broken record entry. You can skip if it's not fun anymore. ------- How would you talk about it? This is painful, at this point. I almost want to filibuster my own deposition a bit, you know... like, what is so tertiary in my life? I need something that I could bluff with, right? I almost don't want to say anything about it. Because I'm so blessed, it seems disgusting to care so much. I should find a way to forget about it. I am grateful for the love I have fostered in my life. I am grateful for tenderness, and touch. But for whatever reason... I'm not able to walk above this sort of feeling, right? I have lost the ability to think about anything else. I'm getting distracted, again. I will be an adult and do nothing about any of it. That was a joke, for our true believers out there. Im eating less to flagellate myself for remembering that feeling, of looking into her eyes. Not good, not good at all. In my works, I emphasize contrasts in color. I always wa...

I want to stop loving her. This can't good for my mental health anymore. It's just a matter of psychologically malajusted limerence. It will pass if I allow it to. Maybe I shouldn't have agreed to the conference. Maybe I shouldn't have allowed myself the pleasure of her company, the warmth of her conversation. Maybe it's just my imagination running away with me. I just want her to say no. I want her to tell me to go away, to give it up. It's too much. This uncertainty is too much. I want to remember her in my every waking moment. I want to never think about her again. This is unnatural and emotionally perverse. I want to stop asking her about her day. I want stop itching for that knowing. I want to be incurious about her feelings, her life, and her worries. I can't stand knowing it. I've allowed myself to be infatuated again. I have been blessed to have a gaggle of friends who love me quite enough. I'm not by any stretch starved of touch or affection...