1/14/26 - Embolism

Yesterday after work I messed up taking my injections, and I hit a major artery. I was bleeding so much, I managed to eventually staunch it and get a bandage. I still feel tingly and lightheaded, this has never happened before. There were two weeks before I had help taking injections where this never happened. Yesterday was the first day I went that wrong.

There's a malaise of unease and disgust that has infected the air surrounding my person. I've been visiting my parents a lot in the first half of January. I love to he with my family, yeah... but I also like being around them because they seem like the only people that arent disgusted at the sight of me. I just don't understand it. I don't like being in my apartment. I wish I was an introvert, it would be easy to keep it all in.

Every time I open my eyes, whenever I blink, I see news of another holocaust in the works. Maybe this is just what God wants right now.

I don't get the feeling that my personality or presence is wanted anymore. All that I learned from last year is to be arrogant enough to know that I'm an incredible person, even if I don't have anything to show for it right now.

Part of me wishes I let myself bleed out a little longer. It would have made things so much easier, I guess. But it's not the right thing to do. I have to finish this album. I have to finish giving this one all my energy. It's the only thing keeping me alive. If this album doesn't provide... something, that might make me feel like an actual human, I might just have to give in.

I don't have the ability to maintain an honest lifestyle anymore. I haven't done anything bad enough to justify feeling this way, but I know that I have it in me to one day be a truly hateful individual. I sometimes wish I could allow myself to be less human.

I was able to play soccer with the kids at work yesterday, that was the best I had felt in months. Working with kids is the only thing that made this job bearable, and the lifeless white walled dome I'm working in effectively stripped that away.

I could never keep all my thoughts and emotions to myself. It feels like drowning to force myself to do that. Keeping a private diary feels like sewing my vocal chords together. I'd rather die.

Sometimes I think God wants me to act as an example to my peers. Like I'm not really meant to make it, I'm meant to be a proof of concept on the failures of my personhood. Something to avoid. Like... maybe it would be something teachable if I could just die. I dunno.

It's mostly dark bullshit with me right now. I'm gonna cut this one short and right a nicer blog post after this.

1/13/26 - Miss Universe

Let me tell of you about social pageantry.

I mean courtship, you know. "Talking stages," as people call it.

The worst, the absolute worst. Cronkite and I like to coach each other, we commiserate the circumstances of our yearning, the outcomes of our pursuits of those that catch our eye.

About as many wins as losses at this point. I know for sure I've fumbled a few diamonds, but sometimes you must know that there's only so much you can do in the realm of entertaining the tastes of someone you most likely don't know that well, right?

It's like grooming a poodle for the kennel club. You're putting yourself on display, you basically having to let someone examine you like an item. And yet I feel it could be argued that the right person is likely someone you would never need to "prove yourself" to like that. The connection will be self-evident.

Recently my economy of courtship has been unstable, a lot of fluctuations. Too many uncertainties, I really, really don't care for social media superficialities. It's fucking stupid. But it's the only way with most people our age, it feels like.

I try not to put on airs and pretend. What you see is what you get. What you get might be a little bizarre, a little... unusual, but I don't give a fuck. I keep this blog public for a reason. I'm committed to it. All of my fuck ups and insecurities are not things I think I need to cover up. I'm a real person, damn it. I've got nothing to hide, you guys know exactly what I'm about. Maybe that is itself a flaw (good argument for that) but it's definitely something I'm not interested in getting rid of.

I don't care for the brand of "nonchalance" I see in the world right now. It's irritating, it comes off as very superficial, very insincere, very trite, to me. I don't mean introversion or politeness, I don't mean being reserved or solitary. I mean that sort of closed off, punitive kind of temperament that has permeated the world right now. Everybody is way too concerned with maintaining a certain "aesthetic," and OH MY GOD I feel sick even saying that actually I hate the term "aesthetic" right now. I don't care for it. Items have aesthetics, works and locations have aesthetics; PEOPLE are PEOPLE. I do not like the idea of maintaining an "aesthetic." Like (?) fuck off, I have flesh and blood. I have a pre-frontal cortex and two ventricles. I have skin and eyeballs. I'm a real fucking person. I have a job, I have family and friends. I have responsibilities, I have beliefs, opinions, and knowledge. I'm not a style, I'm real. I'm okay with alienating people if it's for the sake of defending my personhood, if it's to re-affirm that I'm not a fad. Sorry that you don't like me today, but I'm still your equal, whether you like it or not.

I am not giving into this fascist worldview that everybody has to fit into a box and stay in a lane. You guys sound like Trumpies when you say that sort of shit.

Everybody in the world is becoming so isolationist and punitive and closed off... I won't stand for it. I will stand on that shit.

The slave catchers are going to have to just come and get me. I'm not gonna give up for anyone. Anyone.

I feel like we are not ANGRY enough about all of this. It's like we say how bad it is and move on. NO! WE NEED TO KILL THESE SLAVE CATCHER MONGREL FUCKS! KILL FASCISTS! KILL FASCISTS!

I like the protests I go to and I appreciate the people who are there, but those people are actually such a small fraction of who's really out here, and I am so fucking done with polite society. I am done with the salt of the earth types.

DO SOMETHING THAT MATTERS! DONT BULLSHIT ME! I KNOW YOU CAN FEEL IT! I KNOW THAT YOU KNOW!

How am I supposed to feel like I'm NOT supposed to be the one to do it when nobody seems to want to do anything? I'm so finished with this shit. I don't think I'm crazy. I think I'm having an appropriate reaction to the events I see unfolding in the world right now. In Minneapolis, they are murdering innocent people and sending them to concentration camps. And they've BEEN getting away with this before then. And they're slaughtering so many people in Sudan you can see it from space. In Israel they're bombing cities and villages and spreading disease. They're poisoning the water and the air and they're creating a surveillance state powered by AI.

It's like I'm expected to just be okay with that. I... I cannot be okay with this. I refuse to be okay with this. This is the social pageantry I can't fucking stand.

Why are we standing with wine glasses pretending we're in good times?

I've got maybe a week left of being normal in me. I don't know what I'm gonna do after that.

You grow up thinking that people actually believe in that good morals do the right thing bullshit, and then you grow up and realize nobody cares about that shit.

I refuse. Maybe that's why I HAVE to do music. I'm not too good for a normal job, I'm not too good for the working class. But I am better than this sit down shut up eat your gruel fuck shit. Billions of people in the world live this life because they don't have a choice, and I refuse to accept that this is the way. Even if I die trying, I will not accept a life I do not want.

There are homeless people who do not want to get a home, who do not want to "re-enter" society... and I understand these people. I get it. Once you are cast out, it changes everything about the way you look at the world. Some would like to get back into the better life, but some become disillusioned.

I'm starting to become disillusioned and alienated. I'm beginning to lose my grip on normalcy and moderation. The socialization and manners I've had keeping me from extremism are beginning to fall apart.

Give me a minute.

1/10/26 - Diana Ross

Two Oxygen One Hydrogen, Yeah That Sounds Right

Seven Drinks In And Hepburn is the greatest album ever made

1/9/26 - Kate Plays Christine

This will likely only be posted a few days after writing. I think it's better to stay committed to silence.

I used to be of the feeling that, yeah, even if nobody saw it happen, that tree still fell down, right?

Nah. Look at the news. Look at everything. Doesn't mean shit if we all saw the same thing. The truth has nothing to do with it anymore.

If I never make an effort to be seen, I may as well have never existed. Had I not decided to eat and take a nap, I might understand this trait to be a great asset to one looking to engage in acts of political terrorism. I can be so dramatic, my goodness.

I'm looking to my regular remedies, you know. I'm listening to Brian again. And a bit of Carpenters. I can close my eyes and smile in acceptance of myself. I know what this is, and I can handle it. And it feels good.

It feels bizarre being able to have my own time and space to work through one of these fits of incredible grief and sadness. It used to be that I would be sexually pressured every time I seemed less than perfect. It was humiliating. I'm not in that world anymore. My life has gotten better.

It's so easy, now, compared to then. It is so much easier to be miserable when I have a stable job and control of my time.

It's ironic, like... I almost feel *good* at the same time as being sad and depressed, right now. Because I can feel this way in peace, for the first time. It's new.

Maybe I am not loved. But I love myself. Because I can finally be with myself.