1/9/26 - Eating Disorder

The following entry is a transcribed stream of consciousness, written for the purpose of having a documented deposition of my thoughts. It helps me to stay humble, I guess, to expose my grey matter in a safe public environment. I feel more comfortable in the presence of peers, of friends, of family. I don't do well on my own. So that's why I allow this blog to be visible to the public.

I'm trying something. I've never been able to sustain this before. There's a first time for everything, though.

A necessary silence. Nobody will know me, ever again. Nobody will know.

I'm giving it a go.

There is no drive towards organization that I can see. So instead... I'll muster something better than what I could be capable of in a healthy mindset.

I choose to allow myself to be solemn. I'm gonna let myself starve today, that makes it easier.

It's easier to stay focused when I'm hungry. When I'm tired. My brain doesn't put those nutrients in the right places, I figure.

I don't have it in me to do it. I have to try.

In me is already the aspect of a tarnished character. I simply have to learn to embrace my bitterness. I need to indulge in the gross, awful things I can get my hands on. And I'll save up so I can open the door to the worst. 

I have to walk away from the warmth of my family and friends. I have to forget. I have to try.

Starving is the first step. I have to keep up just so I can stay alive. Just barely. I might see about quitting my job. If I can, I will go through the motions of alienating and disappointing some of my peers. Hopefully then they won't feel as bad to push me out. I gotta sell all my knick knacks and records and everything else. Just enough money to pay for the materials, the costume, the opportunity.

I have too much to lose, is the problem. I have a wonderful family, amazing friends, a new apartment, music and art and connections... I have too much. I have to find a way to lose everything, so that I can committ myself to being something I am not capable of being right now.

I have to blend in with a crowd that I detest. I need to get close with those people so I can do it. Somebody has to do it. Somebody has to do it. It won't solve everything, but it doesn't need to. It just needs to solve the one thing.

I'm having another psychological episode. Nothing worth worrying about.

I'm thinking about developing an eating disorder to denigrate my health and my sanity enough to be capable of violence. I'm writing down my thoughts to help lock them away somewhere public.

You would think that it would be better to put this somewhere private, right?

No. I have to allow myself to remember my extroversion, to limit my time spent in isolation. So that I don't succumb to antisocial inclinations and behaviors. I'm going to eat immediately after I'm done with work. And I'm gonna call one of my friends, and I'll remember love.

I will remember love.

I'll think about it. I'll probably be fine tommorow.

After I eat, I will go to sleep. I can't go to the club right now. I'll have fun, but I'd have to drive on my own in the early morning afterwards....not today. Not today. I'm always responsible enough to manage safety and moderation. I'm not going to mess that up today, no, not like that.

I'll be okay. Ill see you guys soon.

1/8/26 - Michel Legrand

I'm not busy enough. I'm writing this at work, and I know that's the case. I'm not busy enough. If I have enough time to get caught up like that, it's farcical. I've heard the right women express this as wisdom. I'm inclined to think they're correct.

That's all. It's strange, cause I've got enough activity as it is. So for me to struggle with keeping my mind on what's in front of me, its indicative of a psychological snag. I'll be okay, though. Yesterday after work I walked around in the city in the cold. I like being around the noise of other people. I don't care for the silence right now. I don't.

And of course I realize, good art learns to embrace silence. I guess I've got a ways to go.

Aimless Maxence... I'm only blessed I never had an inclination to serve. Nah. I can be aimless my own way.

Michel Legrand, you find your way into a heart with those compositions... even now I hear it.

This job is so meaningless and mundane that I'm starting to forget what sort of things I'm capable of. I think the intended effect of this denigration is becoming noticeable on my face. I'm back to being incapable of a smile. I'm overtaken by this. I'm even too tired to pontificate. I'm now listening to Blue in Green. It makes so much sense, you know. I miss the understanding of it, the feeling of sound that envelops the senses. That's not here anymore. It's gone.

I'm not sad, I'm just cold. In my ears now is Vangelis. I could listen for the rest of my life. Music is the only thing that counts. It's the only thing that will always be there. Even if I could never hear again, I will have it's vibrations. Even if I could never feel again, I would have it's memory.

1/7/26 - Roman Holiday

Allow me to be diaristic. If for only but a moment.

I had another fruitful conversation with Remas. Being able to clarify my goals, through service towards her and Manal, is something I was knowingly prosyltized towards realizing as my path. It was instilled as a prime directive every day I spent in Church, growing up. Sometimes I wish there really were coincidences. I could stand to have some friction to push against, this balsawood foundation I'm sitting on right now is starting to embitter my conscience.

I don't regret the direction. I could never take her candor for granted. I'll tell you what I'm gonna do.

66 Hail Marys, thats what I'm thinking. I got to make three different posters and print 22 copies of each. This month is when I'm gonna paint the town yellow.

And I'll need to adopt a persona of arrogance, something that can incense my network towards action.

You!

 

I know exactly what possesses somebody like you to linger. So I'll be generous, in the way only a charismatic tyrant could be: I'm gonna frustrate you, specifically. And unfortunately for you, I've a feeling it'll entice you.

You're so arrogant, he said. He was right!

What compels me to incite distaste in you is a recognition of your withdrawal. The worst thing about poking the bear is knowing they're bound to have a better season than the Lions. And yeah, it doesn't sit right with me, so I'm gonna do something about it.

Me and my aviators are gonna try to find Professor Khan today. I've got a proposition for him.

I'm going all in on my music this year. I'm putting forth a vain kind of providence on myself, I'm watching over my record as one capable of transgression. And of course... I want him to be a witness to the result of it, however it goes.

If by June 4th I haven't gotten a commendable motion, then I swear to him: I'll apply to the PhD program. I will. Honest to God, Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I will. If I must apply, I will ask for his letter of recommendation. And I'll set aside the theatrics.

Its, um... becoming a real snag on my skirt, is what I'll say. It's starting to piss me off. But anger is actionable.

What bothers me is knowing that... so is joy. So is ecstasy. Both very actionable, too. It's not pushing me as much as I'd like it to.

What is within me now is a feeling of acceptance. I can be a bit mercurial, sometimes. And I think I've a tendency to confront and row more than I'd typically like to admit. In my worst manner, I can act a bit like some of those heroes I rightfully chose to discard from my tiles, you know. I've regrettably a temperament not unlike some of those guys, like Mister Kilmister. I pray to God I never get like that.

I'm an educated, protestant Black American, I've got nothing to worry about. As we all know, those sorts of people never get in trouble and get to live happy lives.

Give me fucking break. If one of you guys can't take this guy out I'll have to take one for the team. Jesus, you really don't make it easy.

I'm investing my cortisol in the promises of counter-cultural violence. I'm counting on it. Unlucky for the vampires, I'm looking to denature the blood before it can dry.

Can I tell you something? It's about that lovely lady I won't shut up about. Was I naive in assessing the meaning of the Unicorn? I trust you all are more keen on this sort of thing, I guess. Why would I assume... that's a good question.

But maybe I'm right. I guess it would be an appointment, huh? Let me not have *too* much fun, right?

What does she think? The only thing I'm certain about is that I'm mad about this girl. I can't get over her.

I don't have to save myself for Persephone, let's not be puritanical, but... part of me loathes my efforts to try something healthier than what I've been doing. I keep believing that I should stop my aimless pining, that I shouldn't stake my drive in maximizing my chances to be graced by her company. I should look to just socialize in my local area to find someone else, you know. I'm on these apps, I'm thinking, maybe I'm just under the influence of some kind of parasocial perversion. If I let myself go a little bit, maybe I'll get over her.

But I know myself, right? I couldn't get over Parker when I was with Ghislaine. I couldn't get over Warhol when she was with Parker, isn't that a treat? And I'm still not fully over Parker. It was always thus that I wished to be born a girl, but really thinking about it... he made it worse. Because sometimes, I almost feel as if I wish I could have been born a girl, just so maybe he would have looked my way.

I don't think he likes Black girls anyways, though. He's too skinny, he'd never survive.

I still dream of reconnecting with Maid Marian (new epithet, girl I knew since first grade). Florence Welch put forth something so dreadful into the world when she said... "If I've ever had a crush on someone, I probably still do."

It's the most egregious thing that I could never shake. I will probably never get over Persephone. A girl I only saw once in real life, ever. Hilarious.

Some people are just that ethereal. Isn't that the worst?