11/21/25 - Pennyroyal Tea☆

Right now, I'm back on a Nirvana kick. It's a little too irreplaceable. The song Pennyroyal Tea is having an all expenses paid vacation at the front of my head. Kurt's lyrics can feel cerebral to the point of inspiring paranoia. Before that, I was listening to groovier stuff, sort of in a cute harmonic kitsch... gave me all the wrong feelings. And what wouldn't make it worse than hearing that song, About a Girl.

If only you guys could talk to her. If you could hear their voice, if you could see her face, you'd understand. Immediately.

My entire mindset shifted a little yesterday. I saw my friends, my friends! And they looked great! Talking to them, they seemed fine, too. As in, their lives are going well, yknow. Archimedes stays involved in their activism, and Cronkite is working remote, he'll be moving to Europe! I'm gonna miss him, he's one of my best friends. I hope they treat him well over there. I really do...

I'm a little sleepy. We split after 12 on a work night. Bad idea, even if Angel's Egg was worth the trouble. And it was worth it, let me tell you. That sort of oblivion on the big screen... nothing better.

But I'll tell you what, I'm not a natural at this. I'm not the best at that sort of "game." I've never liked that term, anyway. I never think I should learn how to do it the right way, I just felt like if it was ever meant to be, it should figure itself out... that was a naive sort of mindset, I guess. The wrong sort of mindset, wouldn't you know it, Adri.

"I was trying to do a Smokey, and I just aren't Smokey."

That's how George said it, in that alt take of While My Guitar Gently Weeps.

What I love the most about the Beatles is they were simultaneous in their aspects. They were as average as they were incredible. The kind of band where their maximalist victories were as impactful as their reedy, tinny songs, and their intimate, somber works. They didn't necessarily try to make their voices, or their sound, retain the exact sensibility of other bands or artists, because The Beatles itself was it's own sound. George's pocket he worked in on a lot of those tracks in Revolver was a pocket that makes sense for the sonic world the band looked to cultivate. John's approach made sense in that world, too. So did Paul's, and every now and again, Ringo would even have his own tree in the clearing. George Martin, their producer, understood exactly the sort of fishy flavor they needed. He gave some sparse mixes so much life. He'd let the fuller compositions layer in just the right way. The Beatles are like... salmon. Salmon is done in a million and a half ways, but that flavor, that color, is unmistakable. Smoked salmon and baked salmon taste different, but the flavor is still unmistakably salmon, even when it's different like that, y'know? Hear a Beatle song for just enough, you'll be able to identify a Beatle song within the first 3 seconds almost every time.

They're good in a way that only a few musical artists ever manage to really capture. You probably think, that's not true, there are loads of influential and acclaimed artists out there who create an audience for their unique brand. But you're sort of forgetting that those influential and acclaimed folks are a minority compared to the vast majority of artists who are just as talented and unique, but their specific flavor just doesn't capture that same zeitgeist. And it's not even really their fault. Not everybody can be Michael Jackson, yknow?

I guess that sort of thing, that kind of singular variety of "attractive..." that's what does it for me. It's not just what keeps Titania in my head, no. I've an interest in Persephone for the same reason. I don't see the same things in each of them, despite what's similar. I think I found new things to like in some people, these days.

I do feel a bit bad about speaking on this knowing that Persephone is a consistent reader of our chronicle here. I just haven't had a chance to really talk to her in any neutral setting before, is the thing. If I even ever did, yknow. I remember she was at a protest in Hart Plaza, and I saw her, but I didn't say anything. Somewhere down the line she followed me on Insta, and I noticed her posts and what have you. I could obviously see that she was gorgeous, she lived out of state, and that she is also a visual artist and event organizer, but I had to think about what else I knew. I knew she was impressively involved in the Palestinian struggle, as well as following and speaking on what's going on in Sudan, Congo, domestic problems, as everyone should be. I knew that Persephone was culturally connected to the Palestine, yknow. And I knew nothing else about her, right? So, for that reason, I choose to be open to any chance of getting to formally meet her one day, if it's ever in the cards. Whatever happens with me, in any of the people I engage with, I would never close the door on getting to know someone, especially someone who catches my eye like that. 

"If it's ever in the cards," that's a good sort of irony. I still have those postcards she made. I hope she's doin okay.

Hmm. Despite the chipper tone of the entry... here I thought I was wiser than really am. I can put words together really well, but don't let my diction act as an illusion. I am very much just a person. I've got some issues I try to take responsibility for, you know. Some rickets in the mind I'm trying to get rid of.

The rickets being that I'm still dwelling on it.

Let me tell you about my friends in Gaza. My dear friends, my girls, let me regale you.

I was able to talk to Remas about books. Comic books, specifically. My texts are some of the only "literature" she seems to have around, these days. You know, Amal can't go to school, right? She's not able to teach her what she should know. Reminds me of the Colonels, in Greece. They couldn't read, did you know that? A lot of the solider boys of Greece during the Junta didn't actually know how to read.

Remas likes suspense, and romance stories, same as me. It still feels a bit surreal to actually say out loud, that I'm actively friends with people in a concentration camp. It feels perverse, a bit weird, but it's necessary. I'll be finding Arabic pdfs of books to send to her. Remas is the same age as me, but our lives are completely different. It's not fair to her. She doesn't get to be young, anymore. No not our dear Remas. She has to be the strongest woman on the planet every day just to get through it all.

Manal, she likes to open our conversations with neutrality before she breaks into the sadder stuff. I get it. Doesn't mean I can predict it. Sometimes she can joke around, she can laugh about some stuff, it seems like. She's got three kids, it's incredible; I could never in my life do that, for obvious reasons, but also because of the sort of variety of courage that would take. It's superhuman to manage that while the air boils around you from bombing campaigns. Manal is one where my conversations with her can be more serious, in the sense that she has more on her plate, but also because I have to talk transfers and info and business, too. She's a cooperative partner. Manal is the wisest of all the people I've met from the Strip so far. She believes in the promises of God, and she perseveres through trials that would kill anyone lacking that fundamental grit she's managed to make her modus operandi.

Let me tell you something. I've had nothing but luck avoiding those ICE guys. I've yet to encounter the gestapo. I just wish none of that was real. I just can't believe that this is our real life, yknow.

They finally did it, is what it feels like. 

They finally "beat" the bomb.

Let me end with a sleepy thought...

Keeping an eye on the world going by my window... taking my time...

Lying there and staring at the ceiling... waiting for a sleepy feeling...

I'll wait as long as I need to. I'll wait to hear what she wants to say.

I don't want to speak, I just want to listen.

I'll see you guys in a bit.

11/20/25 - Chandler Park

紺位wagwan 皆slimes, Toronto語を勉強する、ネ、eh？

The fieldhouse hosts a staff full wonderful people, all very easygoing, and understandable in their drive towards getting through the day. They seem to like me. It's nice to work somewhere where we're all just friendly coworkers, and not a "family." Top left, crodie.

Nobody feels entitled towards territorialism at a new rec center where most of the staff didn't know each other prior to their assignment here.

Things are balanced just the right way here, for what I'm getting paid. Which is still basically nothing, by the way. 32k. My sister makes more than twice that, she's the best.

I'm not sure if we knew growing up that we'd both be working with kids, but I guess God likes to bless people in roundabout ways. Making even one of the kids laugh keeps me going for days and days. It was easy to get over my guilt and whatever when I could talk to my coworkers, and get to know them better.

Working with the elderly and the youth in tandem helps provide me with endless opportunities to do my favorite thing: talk to people. I always look for an opportunity to be sly, if I can. Getting a laugh is almost as good as-

(Not that)... pay day. And pay day is almost as good as beating a Locksmith style build user in Armored Core 6.

Nize yer beak, fam!

友達-dem, later today I have an appointment with Planned Parenthood. I'm going to be switching from estradiol pills to direct injections. The pills do their job, but the health drawbacks of Spironolactone are starting to take a toll. Lowered blood pressure and sodium wall decay makes it so I gotta eat 3x as much just to sate hunger, so I can keep my fingers from turning purple. It sucks, I need a change.

I get plenty of excersize, so the physical conniptions become less tolerable the further I go on with Spiro.

Perkys got me marved, fam

I've an appointment with the guru (a therapist) later this month. I'm looking forward to getting a professional analysis. I don't have much an ego about the idea of possessing shortcomings or ills. 

"Are you a narcissist?"

Lord willing, I may have the medical counsel to determine that I am not. And if it shall be apparent that I've this or any other personality affliction, I am prepared to engage with whatever I need to make a transition towards easier moderation.

I will tell you of the affliction... I don't believe that's the proper descriptor, anymore. It's more of a fixation, and a daydream. Deanna always come across my remarks on the subject as being fundamentally lacking in the typical confidence and assuredness she observes in me. She in fact is upset that I, at a certain point, felt willing to capitulate to shame about the feeling itself, and not the execution and timing of communicating those feelings.

What a gerbert. I was moving suuuuuper waste, fam.

I don't know. I don't feel intimidated by the prospect of speaking to her, Titania. I choose to be careful, to be vigilant. No one deserves to have their peace disturbed as the result of an externality, someone else's anxieties. She is least deserving of intrusion. My friend, Deanna, she's a little too hotheaded in her approach to counsel, but she's still got some wisdom. It is her conjecture that I should care less about what she might be thinking... to wash my hands of control once again, to simply wait for her to speak to me. I think that Deanna is correct in this belief... 

Don't be so dess, croski.

And yet I just wanna talk to her, somehow. At some point, yknow. Maybe just to explain. Maybe just to apologize. To demonstrate in earnest why I mishandled everything, you know. To explain why I acted like that, and why I would swing so quickly from being relaxed and cool to being full of nerves and anxiety. And of course, we have to examine if I'm psychologically consistent enough to be trusted. But it's not really about me talking, though, is it?

What I really want is just to understand her more. I'd like to hear from her own mouth what she's thinking. I just wish, more than anything, that somehow I could make it up to her.

I have to leave that up to her. If she wants to try just being friends again, then I'm game. If not, that's solid. Of course, more than anything (I say that a lot) I just really hope we could still be friends. If there was any way I could fix what I did, I'd do it. In a heartbeat. Anything she'd need, yknow.

That essay I wrote was total dogshit, though. I let shame dictate my actions again. There is nothing in my entire life, I feel, that is more regrettable than writing whatever the fuck those little texts were.

IS SHE DUUUUUMB?!?!?!?!?!?

But we can't dwell, can we? I've been hoping that I've done the right thing in leaving her alone. I... can't read minds, unfortunately, and I don't really know what she wants. I just sort of wish she could tell me, someday. No matter how harsh or how simple it may be.

Sometimes I wonder... if I never freaked out and said all those things, would she ever think about it? The shame and the carelessness, that was the real snag. Seeing me unravel like that likely demystified any sort of perceived "aura" i might have had in her eyes. But who cares? I'm still cold as fuck. They could do a lot to me, but they can't unmake a real nigga. 

That's all coulda woulda shoulda stuff, anyway.

I'm taking Deanna's advice. I wash my hands of the guilt, for real this time. I only texted her one last thing, before stepping away from it entirely. Cause what? I still care about her a lot. Sue me, she's my favorite.

"Wanna talk? I can talk whenever."

That's all. And that's all I'm feeling right now. I'm ready to talk whenever she feels like, honestly. 

Whenever...

Two-twos my word, mandem, good savs get the best, no yardie shit, styll. On dead yutes, I'm a good yute, eh?

Okay that's enough Toronto bullshit.

BUT not between the times of 6:30PM and 7:00PM today, I have the HRT appointment. So if our lovely lady does read this, just jot that down b4 you get around to communicating.

Because I guess, really... whether she's in into me or not, I always want to be her friend. No matter what. To lose that would be worse than anything else.

So many bills, and deadlines... everything is just money money money. Life is not easy being a proletarian. All I ever do is work these days. I still do the club pretty often, which keeps me alive. And I'm getting sexier every day so, it works out, lmao.

Today I caught my mans chopping up bare tings in Dundas Square

I went back to visit the pharmacy last week, believe it or not. Lexi did something different with the hair bleach, and I look like a totally different person. It was nice to talk to her.

And of course, I gotta talk about Adri Hepburn.

What a fucking relief, a revelation! I got the perfect feel for it, now. The visuals, the sound, the kitsch, its all perfect! I'm gonna keep this train goin.

I'm gonna be linking up with Cronkite and Archimedes today. That should be exciting! I don't want to see him go, but he is called to live across the ocean in the land of cheap cigarettes. Yes, friends... oui oui.

Ill saw you guys soon, and please, call me!

Stay clear a dem 'Sauga yutes out there, eh? Yer actually top yutes, fam.

11/17/25 - 99 Luftballons

Some people are simply not right in the head. They are simply too immature and hopelessly romantic to handle the idea of having someone's trust in their hands.

I am definitely one of those people, good Lord.

It was obvious I was wrong when it became apparent that she'd never make that trip down just to talk to me. That's when I knew I was off the mark with how she felt. What a hopeless sod I am, I even told her, I'm down to head up there whenever. And I meant that.

If I could be a bitch for minute?

I made a reckless, careless decision yesterday, and I don't regret it. 

I confessed my feelings to Titania, over text. What a screw-up I've been, and yet... I feel like, whether it goes well or not, I finally let the truth have it's day.

I finally ruined a friendship. I've never done this before. I don't think I've ever felt this way about anyone before.

She'll likely bring the hammer down at some point, cause I have NOT gone about talking about it very well at all. I basically know nothing about her, and maybe I shouldn't ever get to know. It's not feeling like a sad thing to me yet, yknow?

One thing that always confused me was, why does Titania still talk to me? Why does she still put up with me? She knows its her I write about. She knows all these songs are about her. I bet she even reads this blog. She probably knows everything about what's in my head, right?

She knows. She always knew, I feel like. So I'll never know why she still cared when she knew I was lying.

The meekest part of me believes she might care about me too, but I honestly cannot believe the way a crush makes me think and act. So I decided I'll get rid of the act. Just let it go how God wants it to go. That was the idea.

You all know I had another breakdown, they're about as regular as rain these days. But I get back up every time, every single time. I've been neutral, I've been admired, I've been a victim, I've been a nuisance. I'm feeling like I'm ready to get shot in the chest.

Let me tell you what I mean. I've given Titania every reason to dislike me. Not a single part of me feels entitled to her time, and if she wants to sic the dogs on me, I'd almost welcome it. I've learned that I like closure more than comfort.

If she is a regular reader of this public diary of mine, all the more reason she has to hate me. A good man would be honest about his feelings when the time was actually right. I'm barely close to being good, and I'm not even a man.

I guess I wouldnt use the Lesbian dialectics to measure my behavior, cause 99% of my friends are girlkissers, and they ALL have some of the messiest relationship history. Not a single bitch in this room can be a good example for me.

In fact, I remember when it didn't sit right with me not knowing what happened with her and Oberon. So I tried to inquire, I didn't think it'd yield anything. She doesn't owe me that candor, right? I will not share anything about what happened.

But I'll say that it probably should have been the last time we ever talked. Cause what kind of "lady" am I, feeling some kind of way about her if she confides in me? I didn't say anything then, because I didn't think I should've. I mean, I was right, I handled it well... in the moment. But that should have been it. That should have been the last time I was close with her in any capacity.

Because now I'm feeling loose and painless.

I'll tell you something. I do really love this girl. A lot. Enough that I don't want to make her think she has to do anything other than what she really wants. If she wants my head on a pike, that's what's best. If she thinks about me, too, then... I'll see where that goes. 

I wish I could say I'm girlfriend material, but you guys all know I'm a real nutjob. No, I'm not like a psycho killer, I'm more like Britney Spears, blessed be she. Like I'm a Britney fan down but yeah those people ran her ragged, I hope she never has to step in a studio ever again.

Today I went down to Williams to vote on a Union contract. Guy working there said he loved my "aesthetic." Everywhere I go.I get at least one comment on how I look. 99% positive, because let me tell you guys something. Adri nation knows this.

I am a lot of things. Weird, erratic, erudite, unkempt, and I'm as ambitious as I am deprived, but let me tell you something right now.

One thing I have NEVER BEEN is ugly.

So I know it's not that.

While I was in the process of getting into a panic attack, I remember I was talking to Titania about how the visual language of her work was giving me some new ideas on how to implement oscillators into my "Hepburn" project. I was a real motormouth in that moment, wasn't I? That was the worst I've been since I was still with Ghislaine Maxwell (that's what we're calling my ex lmao).

Man, oh man... I wish I could still see that dream. I wish I could buy her nice things and go on dates and make stuff together or whatever... but I'm just not the one. It's not right, the timing I chose, and in my hubris, I didn't consider what she was comfortable with, or that she's a busy woman with all sorts of other stuff going on. 

She doesn't need this right now. But what do I know? I'm the one that won't shut up.

She's really as saint. Maybe I feel satisfied in thinking that my greatest mistake was all about a girl. Not just any, but someone that really rattled my entire nervous system.

Maybe, as I am right now, I cannot handle the idea of falling in love. The unrequited part isn't what bothers me at all. Its that my brain chose someone with whom there is so much complicated baggage to unpack.

I just wish I was a wiser person. People wish a lot of things, though.

She can call me anytime. I'll never turn her away.