weekly thoughts:

> if you want to predict how a kid will turn out when they grow up just ask them if they're team favourite superhero or team favourite dinosaur when they're trying to make new friends in primary school. it should tell you everything you need to know about their future trajectory
> why did we all relate to Spongebob or Patrick growing up but ended up turning into Squidward and/or Mr. Krabs?
> is it rude to direct people to your FBI agent when they ask you what your hobbies and interests are?
> why do people complain about things they can change? either do something about it or quietly accept the consequences of your (in)actions? no brainer
> [REDACTED]
> George Clooney (and shoving your nose in other people's business)
> animals are highkey dope and if you think kindness is a default human instinct take a look at how uncaring/cruel nature is. the sun is also nice
> post weird pics so people can only be pleasantly surprised when they see you out and about
> jaundice
> human connection is cool but have you ever found a TikTok profile that understands you better than you understand yourself?
> no one asked you, buddy
> when people want to know what your MBTI personality is say BDSM and refuse to elaborate
> blog doesn't sound like a real word anymore
> the world ended in 2016 and we're all refusing to acknowledge it
> damn, this eclipse-induced epiphany will surely last for more than a few hours (clown to clown communication)
> [REDACTED]
> I don't want to hear about your day tbh - tell me what your most toxic trait is (I'll forget it in about a week dw)
> people who call themselves ambitious just don't like the sound of workaholic
> there are good memes and there are bad memes (why has God abandoned us?)
> AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH (poker face)
> nvm Kendrick Lamar is God (feel/fear indefinitely on loop)
> they wouldn't be called intrusive thoughts if the West's politeness wasn't so toxic
> no one asked you, buddy (2)
> no more sugar please I beg
> [REDACTED]
> ostrich cosplays
> [REDACTED]
> [REDACTED]
> what? [in Flula's voice] x20
> this is a silly this is a silly and danger

anyway I told you I think I was some kind of deep sea creature in my past life and you flinched because you don't like the dark outside of screens - lands of oppressive heat and fires, eternal sunshine - you never liked your dark hair either. or the way it would coil and you'd hurry to burn it back into submission - anyway is the waldo look working out for you there? or did you learn to love your black hair yet? you can use it as camouflage. no palm trees there and sunshine is a luxury - did the city of glass prepare you well enough? if your kindness has you on the fence still, remember that you can walk away from what you love if it's killing you, antling - chopped branches only precede new growth and he'll be fine. anyway it's quiet here because I keep the window closed. I don't have any news. you know what it's like. the grass is always greener on the other side until your eyes adjust and it greys again - oversaturation hurts them and you always liked yellow too much. told you I can't do anything about the bitch face. besides when I was 9 mom told me that people can't read my mind and language was God's gift to us so we could form teams instead of packs and I didn't understand the difference then. not sure if I do now either. most sea mammals are migratory. sometimes dolphins travel with whales and I regret it because steel never touched me the way the ocean did - maybe I'll be learning until I die. sorry for the delays. it's the millennial way - grainy pictures, memes and songs, unanswered DMs, masks and silence. also it's my brain party and I get to choose the music. or the white noise? yeah I still hate ASMR - sorry. anyway how have the clouds been treating you?

all your sisters - mazzy star

p.s. stop hating on maths already

absolute wonders what a smile can hide right? see, I discovered it early on in life that the brightest smiles belong to either the happiest or the saddest of people. and I told you: you observe so you can learn and then still fuck it all up as you wait for the mothership to take you home. you know I don't think it has the same ring to it when there are actual aliens around and they don't feel familiar either. anyway. how's the cat? mine's fine and since I suck at pronouns apparently I'd been misgendering it for weeks, made me laugh when I realised - parallels and such, I don't think '23 is supposed to be this clear to me. still don't have a name for him. sometimes I wonder what it's like to be creative. imagine grabbing a brush, making colours turn into other colours and immortalising your fleeting memories, those you want to keep in any event. that has to be some kind of minor superpower right? all the other species got the cool stuff and we were left with things like art and anxiety that if you let fester for too long turns into a sort of sixth sense - I swear to God I feel the radiowaves before the phone calls come. imagine thinking a living thing belongs to you. tbh I think I haven't bothered cause maybe he'll talk back to me someday and reveal some goofy ass street name - I'll take that over whatever I can come up with. also the v's a capital now and it'll remain so until the radiowaves stop coming in altogether. probably. how's the latte art going? you should do something with your drawing now that you're free. besides yours was always the brightest and it's about time that you swing to the other end - come on, samsara young one. make the next one count even more

here before - vashti bunyan

p.s. do you ever wonder if you're the downgrade or the upgrade of the last one? (karma can only be a bitch in a world where Newton's third law isn't popular)

and there was a lady whose job was literally just to... stand in the corner of the room inhaling nasty waste for hours, passing on pieces of paper after the guests would wash their hands as if they didn't have those body parts in the first place. as if reaching for something to dry their hands with was below them and so they needed someone else to do that in their stead - did I mention that I fucking hate Dubai already? how am I problematic for loathing an artificial place glorifying artificial people playing around with their blood money - not talking about those slaving away beneath them obviously. and trust me, whatever escapes the fog does so for a reason. recently I was reminded of California and I realised the extent of your shame over the path that your cousins followed. you never talk about it. anyway I don't keep up too much these days but I do know that history's currently repeating itself which makes me think that the forked future of a generational hardship survivor is universal. will you fight to ensure what happened to your ancestors will not plague another again or will you, at the first taste of power, turn into your foe? I guess trauma in general works like that. carbon copies or polar opposites. my dreams have been fluctuating between ocean depths and unforgiving droughts and I think there's nothing more humbling to Man than the height of the elements. waves that you can't stay on top of and heat that brings you to your knees, cold that freezes your brain before your body - I can't cause I shoved you to the surface long ago and there you'll remain until something changes. by will or otherwise. and for what it's worth I'm sorry for not caring anymore save for when clarity peeks her head through cracks and her gaze burns my eyes - I look away. yes people do die every day but sometimes papik's eyes flash before mine, I remember his silence and how very strange, particular of a man he was and how I found him sobbing by the fireplace once night and he just shook his head and told me that memory is a curse that we must do all that we can to keep close because the victor never tells the truth. something about duty and maintenance, humility and pride - I wish I was older then. she's been nagging me lately and I wonder if it's because I stared at those painted eyes for too long - penitence isn't supposed to be this clear to me. anyway. how about that 7-0 huh? impressive. for what it's worth I'm sorry for keeping you to the surface when I know you'd only try to be my Samwise. you know when you reread something so many times that it turns ugly? the opposite can happen with innately ugly things too and I can't admit it - the angel was right about me, do you think I should tell him? answer me in my dreams where the water is so clear that surface and depths overlap. (sometimes I wonder how all of you would feel if you knew that I talk to you in posts for strangers on the internet to scroll past? or why I booked a no-return ticket in the first place - they'll get me one for free if I stay here long enough and Tomvas is a great lawyer. yeah the angel was definitely right. people like us can indeed bounce back from everything huh? for what it's worth I'm sorry for having joined the collective breathing of the demons - I'm Canadian, ancestor. I was too young for papik's pain to make a difference. can't do the nose justice but wouldn't tatik be proud of me for my weaving skills now? Idk you tell me - never met her)

keep talking - pink floyd

thoughts:

> our worth as men is now defined by whether we'd be chosen over a bear or not and honestly I'm not mad about it
> slightly self conscious about going to the woods now though
> if you sit down and actually learn Kuma's fighting style he's OP af (no rage-quitting like getting your ass repeatedly beat by a high ranking Kuma bot - no not even Pikachu disobeying you)
> on that note if you always caught and trained Pikachu as a kid you're probably some kind of a masochist now
> imagine if you could detach body parts at will and send them off to do things when the bed is heaven clouds
> hey come over and non-verbally listen to niche 60s music with me [platonic]
> hey come over and let me analyse the entirety of Kenny's discography (save your questions for the end) [academic]
> hey come over and decompose nap with me [risqué]
> hey let's go to the desert and probably die there cause we didn't prepare well enough but like God fw the desert hard so we'll probably get to meet up before the end [adventurous]
> hey come over and let's associate animals, bugs, plants, nature things with specific people so that we can never find peace [hazardous]
> hey come over and let's imagine intricate past lives for each music genre we fw [delusional]
> hey I know I told you to come over but please don't I changed my mind [antisocial]
> hot take: imagining a life with a relative stranger and being into them are two different (and not necessarily related) things
> are you an actual realist or are you still maladaptively daydreaming while cosplaying as one?
> lamma bada yatathanna
> [insert passive aggressive vaguely targeted thought]
> they should invent saran wrap for memories
> shoes are more impressive than people
> imagine losing consecutive imaginary arguments
> stop stop stop stop stop stop
> STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT
> btw Mythbusters confirmed that elephants are afraid of mice years ago (not those giants being skittish in general though)
> some things ought to stay in the notes app, buddy
> tuesdays are thursdays sometimes
> the moon
> the sea
> the human condition
> animalpilled creationmaxxer (I will die on this hill)
> misanthropy.jpg
> btw I keep it in my bag at all times (you're allowed to have the adult equivalent of a safety blanket and don't let them tell you otherwise)
> gratitude.jpg
> you ever feel like a lighthouse keeper or are you normal?
> tiredness fuels empty thoughts (in search of in search of)

eskimo - damien rice

I am not who you think I am and you are not who I think you are
felt 404 might delete later

hollow lover - montell fish

home is where the heart is zombies are
⁽ᴳᵒᵈᶻⁱˡˡᵃ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵘⁿᵈˡᵉˢ⁾

deeper underground - jamiroquai

✔ show hidden files, folders and drives

east hastings - gybe

what are you as an NPC doing not waking up every day and behaving as if you're the main character?
Istg it gives you plot armour
(with my hands in the ocean I pray)

source(s): dude trust me

tick tock - joji

when an animal is sick it develops a 6th sense that allows it to know when its death is nigh and it crawls to a quiet, isolated space so that its eventual carcass will not lure scavengers back to its kin. Google will tell you it's for another reason but imagine trusting billionaires. trust me instead, self-evident truths are all we have and you're allowed to talk out of your ass (no one checks the citations). I told you it'd happen and it did and you don't have to feel bad about it. far too boring to entertain, we can leave that to the natural jesters, don't you think? and I'm not prone to forcing anything; we can always just lay this to rest and individually take what we want out of this - doesn't cost me anything, hope the same applies to you. but beauty is in the eye of the beholder, fledgling, and you should never mourn having falsely identified more in less - that is only a testament to your gentle vision and I care more about a stray cat than I'd ever care about you if that helps. you'll just have to forgive my affinity to sudden static; I grew up to a lot of songs that take the silly route of fading out instead of settling on a definitive ending note and I feel the metaphor's bled into my understanding of human relations - closure isn't necessary. I'll watch you through the same binaries I watch all those that came before you. I'll hope to see you bloom someday, self-assured in your individual worth. God is good, yes, I stand by my words but I'm unsure as to His fairness these days. why would He waste so many chances on those unwilling to repent when the good are forfeit at the snap of two fingers?
let the lost get lost

but in the same fashion, Man will seek out his Maker when the end transmutes into a feather softly brushing across the soul, warning and promising

strategic talking, walking, posting. careful allusions to the obvious you want to confess, what you're so desperately trying to hint at - why? you can just say it you know. you can always open your mouth and say the words, crack your fingers and write them down, type them in - those are always options, Erysichthon

if you don't like my shit unfollow me. make use of your free will to the extent that this world allows you to
I'll spare you the definitive blue
(or whisper the physics behind the building of bridges to you and then we'll burn the ones that link us. deal?)

cremation ghat I & II - om

p.s. 'business in the front, party in the back' can be a lifestyle and don't let them tell you otherwise. don't ever forget Mesopotamia either (Ea-Nasir gang pull up ayy 🔥🔥)

but I told you you don't have to be afraid of them. because look at them. do they look like they can hurt you? they are fractions of the dirty cement, the heaps of trash and scribbles on walls - you'll like the graffiti if it's a colourful picture of something you can relate to or at the very least admire but sometimes you'll find the writings of prophets left on walls in black ink that the rain will eventually wash away; that's why pictures matter if you ask me. so you can scroll back and recall that which eludes you. find metaphors in the ugly and cease to wonder why that exit was not kept clear despite the clear instruction - if policing is not the answer, if safe enabling is not the answer, if taking down tents and locking up the sick is not the answer, what's the answer?

well that's nice but everyone knows there's no profit in just handing out the cure. Plague Inc. is full of shit like that

anyway I told you to relax cause we'll be gone soon and when you go to sleep at night your brain will filter out the painful eyesores and the pungent smells and you'll wake up to the scent of freshly brewed coffee and the feel of soft sheets, you'll forget all about them. a zombie didn't bite you. you'll be fine

see? most are harmless, there's no need to be afraid
besides
they're afraid of you too you know

let's talk about the future and figure out clear, concise 10-year plans as the lost prophets' words arrange a proper symphony inside one of our heads - aren't we just swell at feigning presence?
we, we, we dress in fine silks, we have all the spices. we quench our thirst with orange wine, our hunger with the butcher's best cuts and we observe the vermin behind the safety of tempered glass, we feel for them yes. we're so very humble in our privilege
yes let's donate for goodwill while we tense up in the presence of those we donated to - do you see?

say a good morning
offer a flower you plucked from the pavement
view the familiar in the faded unfamiliar
for goodwill
lend some light
instead

you, me, us, them
let's learn a language without pronouns, gender, persons, time
so we can understand

the prisoner - gil scott-heron

cold as December but never remember what winter did
⁽ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵉ⁾

pride - kendrick lamar

ov tou keghedzig - ardashes avedian

and you can use them interchangeably all you want but there is in fact a difference between hue, shade, tone and tint. for instance you could very much say that metal is a shade of western classical music. drop some black into it, add some electricity to the mix, and will you still argue that vivaldi's "summer" or "la folia" (such a relatable king), bach's 1st harpsichord concerto, bartók's 4th string quartet or shostakovich's 8th equivalent are not metal? will you do that in the same way that you argue that the human spirit used to be something else in the past just because of our innate tendencies to romanticise, to identify better times in times we've never lived through? don't you think our collective exhaustion is only a tone of that which belonged to our ancestors, only made duller in the age of communication by our alienation from one another? our reliance on the digital equivalent of a messenger delivering news of a king having fallen sick on the other side of the pond or of eavesdropping on our neighbour's conversations while we hang our clothes out to dry on ropes? a rectangle the size of our palms, our messenger, celebrities, our new royalty, metal, our baroque and NFTs, our michelangelo. unregulated pharmaceuticals, our black death.

high class society? tf is that, man? the tower of babel was destroyed for a reason, you know
you can take your silver spoon and shove it up your —

oops, sorry. this isn't how I'm supposed to use my rectangle, is it?
money money money yes we love money and flesh, power and scarlet plasma
bling bling we love gold and jewels, diamonds and pieces of paper decorated in faces of tyrants and dictators, fancy coats and crystal glasses

brain. rot. ⁽ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵘᵗʰᵒʳ ⁱⁿ ᵃᵈᵛᵃⁿᶜᵉᵈ ᵈᵉᶜᵃʸ⁾

la folia - vivaldi (for emphasis)

p.s. if you don't like my shit you're sane (whatever that means) unfollow me

oror - komitas

thoughts:

> ⁽ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ᴵ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷⁱⁿ ᴵ ʷᵃˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵘᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵖⁱᵍˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ˡᵉᵃʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵃ ⁻⁾
> the ultimate fate of the bridge is to be burnt
> ⁽ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ⁾
> karma doesn't play favourites
> Anxiety glitching out on the console on loop
> she just like me fr
> should I sue?
> it really isn't that hard to not pretend to like someone that you don't like
> come over and do a beer tier list with me but you drink all the beer and I keep your hair out of your face when you vomit later on or if you don't have long hair I stroke your back instead (we're in the timeline where everyone knows you can't bond without shared horrors)
> on second thought f🧡ck you
> ⁽ᵐᵒⁿᵉʸ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵘᵗʰ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵃʷᵃʸ⁾
> any day now any day now any day now
> "yo, and that's okay. that's life."
> ⁽ᵗʰᵉ ᵍˡᵃˢˢ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵘˢ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗᵘʳᵉˢ⁾

the day I tried to live - soundgarden

the humbling river - puscifer

bystanders - moses sumney

thoughts:

> perpetually torn between shaving off or growing out my hair
> aka men will literally turn into either Kratos (without the muscles) or a weird hermit monk instead of going to therapy
> my roman empire is the roman empire and the fact that we're living in the end times
> the government doesn't love you and the sun is fake (I'm an intellectual)
> read declassified CIA files people
> granting me unsupervised internet access was a mistake
> escape room concept: you have to not panic knowing that your electronic devices are listening to you and you're being tracked 24/7 (hell difficulty)
> I love you FBI agent (if no one else got me you do)
> either post when you're in the depths of depression or at the peak of mania. trust me I'm eligible to be giving out advice
> brutalism
> hope doesn't die last they lied to you
> cat save me. cat. save me cat ⁽ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ⁾
> mfw I thought we'd have flying cars by now but instead we have people documenting their descend into madness for the entire world to witness online (it'll be there for all of eternity though)
> my spirit animal is Ross' "totally" into that margarita
> suspicious beeping noises
> preemptively Idgaf if this isn't what you were expecting
> I have no mouth and I must scream
> ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ'ᵛᵉ ᵍⁱᵛᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵃˡˡ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵍᵍᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃˡˡ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ
> snails are cool
> real angels don't have wings (some offence)
> don't talk to me I'm a snake
> mfw they were hoping for a Samuel but instead they got a Joel
> yes I accept bribes
> stop

lately - celeste

and I've met demons without claws, angels without wings
address me from your throne of feathers and I'll tell you all about the counting of breaths
your majesty, deal with your own Vesuvius - we're searing and you demand hands
(don't waste them)

volcano - damien rice

everybody gangsta until you turn into a mirror

N95 - father kenny

and my mind circles back to that lone whale. 52 hertz, unheard by the entire world save for machines that record and transmit - how beautiful to turn ugly things into poems, to have the same world fall in love with idealised prose of the tragic - recoil when in contact, go ahead. the whale spent decades being its own audience before realising no one else could hear it. and then Nigel, the first and last. they turned his solitude into beauty too, revered his folly until he too died alone. or maybe he couldn't tell feather from stone by then, who knows. Kauai O'o, last heard in '87 — have you heard it? it sounds like how angels would if they were birds. some niche internet legend now. but isn't that very human? to lament what you destroyed, paint over its remains, then tuck it away in a drawer - hindsight, mother, that's our grand superpower I think. wow, right?

(yet on they sung, all of them. and sung. and sung. and sung — I bet dolphins sometimes swim by his side)

in the pines - janel drewis

p.s. men will literally remain the last of their species instead of going to therapy

anyway you were wrong. the joker hasn't faded yet. but they've gone through behavioural therapy now - let's call it that - they've left the fog behind and I'm glad for it - you were wrong. but I'll admit they were still a petal travelling on the wind that I just happened to notice and marvel at for a few seconds before it disappeared again. anyway I was wrong. the only shrike I've ever known bears your beak and I understand. because anyway you were right and it's embarrassing - let's call it that - to be hauling around an empty husk, parading it for the entire world to see. archaeology will evolve to people digging through internet archives in time (it's ongoing if you can believe it - just that no one's getting paid for it) but it won't bear the same significance only because of the sheer volume of information available out there. so sometimes I think my wiki page will be eternal, fragmented in socials, letters I had strangers read rather than the intended recipients, vague and meaningless to an archivist who will stumble upon it in a hundred years (see, I still think God will win) and find it to be very typical of a millennial - or whatever our line will be called by then. just another username, a face that no one can attach feeling to, gibberish, cringe and arrogance. hypocrisy and karma so obvious and deserved that I can't even get mad anymore. anyway you were right. I need this. all of it. I just wish you'd know that I've finally stopped pointing fingers. just wish I knew why when He took it away from everyone else so much earlier God's let me keep it - the music

anyway right and wrong are still subjective even when you've based your entire understanding of morality on a collection of scrolls written in times you can't truly fathom. and at the end of the day when pain's been a second skin forever (and forever can be a moment) all you'll wish for is that you'll hear a meow come nightfall. because anyway. you were right. all I want is souls to share bed sheets with. that's all

do you remember Yukon, old friend? in light of my pessimistic views on the future of the field, all I'm saying is an ice-preserved mummy would surely make an archaeologist's day in a hundred years. and the water did heal me - I'll die on this hill - I just made the mistake of returning to concrete. that's pretty elaborate, wouldn't you say? almost poetic to religiously study what you fucking hate with your whole being?

hello, my name is Samvel Avagyan and when I was 7 years old I found a severed foot still in its shoe on a coast of the Salish sea. it didn't scare me. I never heard God's voice but I could always hear His whispers advising me to stick close to water - that one was the first of many. I think I was meant to be a marine biologist but amidst the man-made horrors of my own design I chose the polar opposite of that - man-made ugliness destroying all that's beautiful. see, I don't care about fucking bridges save for when it comes to watching them expand through heat and crumble to pieces. and I hate people too save for when I see them for the animals that they are. if you think you knew me you didn't because I could never. but thank you for the company and sorry for the lies

⁽ᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᴵ'ˡˡ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵍᵉᵗ ⁿᵘᵐᵇ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗᵒᵒ ᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ⁾
⁽ˡᵉᵛⁱᵗᵃᵗᵉ ˡᵉᵛⁱᵗᵃᵗᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃⁿ ᵃᵗᵒᵐ ˢᵉᵖᵃʳᵃᵗᵉ⁾

that's all folks. scroll about your day now

smithereens - joji

⁽ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵒᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ⁾

pier 4 - clairo

⁽ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ʰᵒʷ ⁱᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵘʳⁱᵉᵈ ʷʰⁱˡᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᵉ⁾

seven sins - ren

everything you say can and will be used against you in the court of Worm (there's no need for the jury to retire)

tip: always blame academics

the trial - pink floyd

p.s. shut up, tea

so you see he who clings to his pride is a coward. there's nothing brave about a wounded wolf straying from the pack - even the wolf does it for its kin. but man? sometimes. here's your reward for gritting your teeth and being so strong. so very weak in your solitary strength - do you think there was a point? you still do, don't you? prideful little creature of habit and venom, didn't you always admire the ant and its profound affinity to the unforgiving gravity of the colony? strayer, didn't you always marvel at the sun when encased in ice you felt at home? you picked up a book and made another man's words your gospel - the deeper the grief, the closer is God, he told you and you decided to live by that. be born with it and never stop mourning. it is the way of your people, your heirloom. and if you can't fight you owe them that at least

at which point does that which is not like the others tires of being pointed out you think? when does it step away from under those enormous neon arrows and stops flailing its arms for the observer's aid? when do you think it's finally absorbed?

the departure suite - max richter

I mean, my echo chamber's got amazing acoustics though

peace - gil scott-heron

p.s. dead eyes are my rizz - excuse you, ajumma I scared by zoning out at the bus stop today ⁽ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʷᵉ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵃ ᶠᵘᶜ

thoughts:

> ⁽ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʳᵃᵛᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵗʳᵃⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘⁿ⁾
> what's your 'I'm hanging on by a thread (insanity edition) and this chore will save my life today' chore?
> why is sleeping on piles of clean clothes not socially acceptable outside college dorm rooms?
> do you ever go outside and watch cement mix for about an hour (you'd stay longer but the workers are sus of you after a point on) and life becomes tolerable again?
> why cement mixing = happy in general?
> hack: get your degree and then skip all the disheartenment of not being hired cause of your lack of field-appropriate work experience (sorry for studying I guess) by going straight into construction
> the h in engineer stands for happiness
> clarity is overrated af
> no context yes or no question. answer
> cognitive nonsense makes more sense that things that make sense sometimes
> sorry for being weird, it'll happen again
> we're special up in Canada cause we have a 6th basic human need to apologise compulsively or we'll spontaneously combust
> sensory overload
> aging like fine bagged milk
> a hug from Chris Martin would fix me
> a literal bear would work too (end result is irrelevant)
> all you have is your screen and your buttons if you forget speech
> imagine if you could detach body parts and send them off to do things while you relax
> keep losing change - my dreams in action (these lyrics were revealed to me in a dream and the tune sounded like a bank jingle)
> I hope Florida's okay (I'm not checking)
> is this the good ending? (press X to doubt)
> when you're watching a fish in a tank and it stares at you for a while then blows out little air bubbles, do you think it's saying hi?
> boulders make more sense than people sometimes
> sound waves am I right?
> the only acceptable type of wind chimes is bamboo (I will die on this hill)
> do you want to run ancient_grief.exe in safe mode? (this is recommended for most people)
> regularly watching the news is just asking for schizophrenia tbh
> so is Squidward gay or not?
> the p in engineer stands for peace of mind
> bridges lmao
> sorry that you had to go through the exact same thing I did (I still don't relate to you)
> you can emoji your way through life and don't let them tell you otherwise
> never take my advice
> would you love me if I was a worm brain-eating amoeaba?
> if you bother ants don't talk to me or my son ever again (also leave the moths alone)
> it's hilarious until one day you wake up and suddenly /you're/ Britney
> this is still the mental decline section of my wiki page
> you're all welcome
> set bird_watching.exe to autostart - life's better for it, trust me
> I bet he's thinking about other girls / haha bridges
> bridges haha
> bridges
> shit never gets old I swear
> wubba lubba dub dub
> ⁽ʲᵘᵐᵖᵉᵈ ᵒⁿᵗᵒ ᵃ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉˢʰⁱᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵘᵗᵉʳ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵏᵃʸ⁾
> Lord Farquaad called, he wants his hair back
> no

glory box - portishead

then they sever the rope and you discover it was tied to a cinder block married to the ground all along. your bones are still hollow and without feathers all you have is helium to pull you towards the stars — there's not a lot of oxygen up there you know. but anyway did we ever mind the light-headedness? I don't mind it. I mind it. here in the halls. here in the halls echoes of diluted salt finding the ground still reverberate and I don't know why they always amplify the minors and not, say, the chirping of birds that once reminded you of the dawn and its hopeful whispers. or the sound of sun rays — what do you mean? you asked me how far up I'd floated when I told you I could hear the sun and I had lost speech by then — can't you hear it, I retorted, but the halls didn't relay the question, you never heard it. so you chirped after some seconds and the dawn found my lips

I couldn't resist. I'd pick up those guests just for a second, just to have those balloon stings slip past their fingers and I couldn't resist — pop. peacefully floating towards freedom beyond the pixelated boundaries and just before they'd reach the upper edge of that screen — pop. I couldn't resist. and so I think that's the balloon's ultimate fate: to be marvelled at for a short while (if at all), to be popped before it ever gets to reach the verge. so when they sever the rope and you discover your birdlike bones still favour helium you call it karma and brace yourself for the needle. the enormous cursor out to get you before you escape the boundaries and kiss the moon - you think, I get it now:
we made balloons so we can pop them

(the system is working exactly as intended and must be destroyed) ❓

but I only said you could hitch a ride up there. I know you have alates of your own — I never said you couldn't fly away when you so wished
in any event. take pride in having bested the gusts

anyway this tree is bright green and breathing and in fact I'm not looking at the tree. these leaves are veined and pulsating, gasping out oxygen I breathe and in fact I'm not even looking at the leaves or their veins but rather the molecules that shape them. no the atoms, the quarks, the quantum fields — anyway the forest is on fire and I still can't see it because if you ask me what my favourite colour is I'll say orange but it's not
it's fucking apricot ⁉

you never asked (and black is a shade not a colour you know)
ընդմիշտ ու հավերժ (I'm sorry - bitch in multitudes you know)

cherry - lana del rey

p.s. I don't care, paper melts. here it's forever — find it in the next one and know (if it fades it never existed)

D+ off-topic again. come see me in my office
(is everything okay — do you need to retake this?)

imagine being envious of Stephen Hawking's voice box

keep talking - pink floyd

"Yes, I dreamed a dream, my dream of the third of November."

dryope - eldingar

just for the fuck of it

the big come down - nin

thoughts:

> I'm an elf
> I'm a wizard, Harry
> Rowling was wack for calling them wizards but making magical powers hereditary
> that's a sorcerer, lady
> I believe in dnd supremacy
> (don't fw the wizard)
> how does one get over things?
> my music was fitting to the campaign — it's been 8 years and look who's still on this hill (do you remember me?)
> Diablo 2
> Silent Hill 2 (please don't make me)
> age is just a number and I don't claim it
> why do deer exist?
> what is the best thing in existence and why is it metal?
> I am i r o n m a n (is he live or dead?)
> told you it wasn't a phase, dad
> why would anyone ever willingly enlist if it's not about money?
> typed exist instead of enlist and honestly that's fair too
> hate the quiet hate the noise hate the dark hate the light
> get better chairs or something Idk
> stranger danger but with feelings
> floorboard gang
> a bedtime story from Joe Pera would fix me
> fish (and how glorious they are)
> no one cares (negative)
> no one cares (positive)
> the tower, the tower — Rapunzel! Rapunzel!
> but that's my emotional support pile of past achievements, man
> I am scum (deluxe)
> I am God
> I'm a horse's butt
> fuck

the wizard - black sabbath

and you know it's all fun and games until the love songs aren't about people anymore. if a bear stretches its arms out, it's not an invitation for an embrace, friend, it will maul you. but for a second you'll feel the crushing pressure force every broken bone to snap back in place, and so you'll spend the rest of your days chasing that, the fleeting. (before and after lose all meaning when the calendar taunts.) can we stop pretending now? I keep rehearsing the same lines but the delivery never gets any more convincing — how do you do it, friend? anyway my toxic trait is that I think the bear will pick up my harmless vibes and regulate its fucking strength for once

geyser - mitski

p.s. when you crack it open some seeds escape and find the ground and you know most won't bother washing them — in the bin. didn't ask for this heritage, buddy

pov: you activated my unskippable Roman Empire dialogue after having thought I was just a chill guy (if you don't think Valentinian I was supreme, squabble up) ⁽ᴵ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵐʸ ᶜᴷ³ ᵉᵐᵖⁱʳᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ⁻ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵃᵈᵈʳᵉˢˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉˡᶠ ⁱⁿˢᵉʳᵗ⁾

arto - soad

p.s. google his death, it's hilarious

still you can't deny that tradition smells better. it's just that it has this tendency to stick to walls and fabrics, to stain fingers and teeth - you know how an air freshener is amazing at first but the longer you stay in the car the more it makes you nauseous? overexposure, you know. it ruins everything. so tolerate the stench of the modern, mayrik - I promise it won't linger for more than a few minutes at a time. and don't you dare attempt make me a conductor for positive to negative again - if you want to start walking backwards, do it yourself. own it

besides it says a lot I think. no I'm not paying for premium just to be able to rewind and skip through songs I don't wanna listen to or ads - I'll just hunch over this damn screen until the exact second comes, the moment that means more than all the rest in the song or the album, knowing no prying ears give a fuck in the first place. it's the millennial way, mayrik (and I've said this before - you know I work in loops). memes and lyrics, favourite book/movie/game quotes, vague relation to fruit and the occassional reclaiming of memories - it's a fascinating thing, isn't it? how you'll never know what's been permanently lost and what's still hibernating just to slide out of the shadows at the most random of times? I swear I hadn't felt that peace since I was 7 - do you know it's a year older than me? not sure what it means that it still makes me feel the exact same way (I know - I'm lying again but it's easier than using words that can't encapsulate, I'm sorry)

anyway sometimes I wish I could take you down to hastings and show you all the comfort walls and the spots at which poetry prevailed. I hate them but you should know that sometimes God leaves the church and He walks there, He strokes sunken cheeks and traces scars and He smiles wistful smiles - He defies the meaning of numbers by giving so many second chances that sometimes mortals begin feeling immortal. He also taunts sometimes but we all know His sense of humour is dark. anyway please change the landline song. I can't stand it anymore

everybody's something - chance the rapper

p.s. it's my your money and I'll spend it however I want

maybe it's Maybelline

narineh - mariam matossian

andouni - kevorg hadjian

mother superior jumped the gun ⁽ˢʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃᵗʰʳᵒᵒᵐ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵒʷ ᵖʳᵒᵗᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵃ ˢⁱˡᵛᵉʳ ˢᵖᵒᵒⁿ⁾

happiness is a warm gun - the beatles

[...] that it is tremendously uncool to have faith and I'll tell you to try again cause even the bees can see things that your eyes cannot. why do you trust your senses more than you gut? perfect as per design. designed to capture only fragments of the whole. try again. try again. try again - some day you'll turn and the light won't hurry to the periphery of your vision. when you're blinded it won't be your pupils that'll have you know - but that's not what I'll tell you, no. that's just the script in which I've denounced the world. here, I can relay moment after moment of the spirit interfering just to have it be called, dismissed as coincidence. that's all right. here, one respected neither soul nor flesh and now one can't afford to waste arduous breaths. here, one is still consumed by the tangible
respect but maintain that which sculpted you, salt of the earth

(weigh your worth before her majesty, the Verde river)

oceans - puscifer

p.s. you shouldn't let poets hypocrites lie preach to you (but do listen. do filter)

now flip the cup over. I'll tell you your fate, pawnbroker
⁽ʳⁱⁿˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒʳⁱᵍⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ⁾

poems - tricky

emerald is white and natural meets manmade and there's sound. then. go back? go back, give future archaelogists something to talk about. a service. or vibrate anew. expand. raze the cities. unnatural, making chitin out of flesh. you think should one elaborate on what sea dwellers are only good for to your kind? you think one should stop parallelising? you think one should stop? you think?

(no)

anyway. drops to oceans. mercury, cellophane, corinthians. atrophy. dammed rivers and rehabilitation ⁽ʰᵒʷ ᵐᵃⁿʸ⁾ a single moon up there. solitary reflects solitary, scales tip; laws everlasting

3 libras - a perfect circle

հ.գ. ընտրիր, մոլորված

thoughts:

> fuck zodiac signs. tell me how old you were when you realised Michael Jackson was innocent
> you can get away with a lot of things but being a snitch is universally not one of those
> my spirit animal is Old Gregg
> my only wish is that they'd stop turning the fucking street lamps on during twilight (genie staring in bewilderment)
> tile glue
> Dr Dre tootootootootOOooOOoo
> [REDACTED] a perfectly normal amount
> I think a gibbon befriending me would fix me
> can someone please watch RuPaul's Drag Race with me
> counting blessings and calm after the storm and touching grass and other people's creative works salvaging lost souls and once remarkable white blood cells squandered and to whom it may concern, you know, [REDACTED] cause there's always someone or something to receive that (even if it's an entire country that you haven't visited since '09) and all that, what have you, all vague and unspecified as God intended of course
> I be all up in my notes app pouring out essence and shit
> memory bank: why'd you cry about it? it yowled at you half a dozen times before it finally gave you that scratch and then you had the audacity to go cry to your mother about it? and she had the audacity to call that cat mean on top of it all? how far did you have to push it, kid? I guess you haven't learned Newton's laws yet though - maybe you get a pass. be very mindful of them once you do. the first one teaches you about swamps and torrential rivers. the second, your power. the third, consequence. karma. can't escape it, you should know that cause I don't think your mom's gonna teach you much about it, is she? (stop fucking enabling your kids)
> big fan of mould aesthetics
> apparently mould aesthetics fall under the urban decay category
> check out Klari Reis. gorgeous stuff, I promise
> (in the ugliest of places)
> remember that girl who was [REDACTED] and told you that in your past life you were [REDACTED] and it made so much sense that you got mad about it and started arguing semantics with her and now still feel bad about that cause she was probably right (no lightning through the ceiling yet - we're good) and that's probably why FKA's music feels so [REDACTED]
> hack: if the questionable behaviour of your past has led to practical bankruptcy (money isn't real btw), file chapter 11 and rebrand yourself (make different but similarly throughless mistakes and file it again in a few years. loop that as many times as you need)
> things that make me happy: peeling only the shell and film of boiled eggs, being asked about my bug friends
> things that ruin my day: when the peeling that seemed like it was going to be perfect from start to finish is ruined and now there is a chunk missing from the egg (or even several), being interrogated about my bug friends
> do you still hide in your room when there are guests that you don't know/don't want to talk to around or are you an adult normal?
> random ajumma terrifying you at 10 in the morning like it's nothing
> someone please have a 90s/00s no drinking hip hop/rap night with me please
> I think about Mozard having written a song called 'leck mich im Arsch' and how if that isn't proof of how slow evolution is Idk what is at least once a month
> it's a banger too
> Gregorian chants and chill
> this is a goldmine if you know how to transmute lesser materials into gold
> [November haiku]
> only as horrid as your worst impulses
> no therapist I don't need therapy I have Eusexua a new way to transcribe it (it will change the course of time fr)
> okay but would you love me if I was a sea worm, dad?
> aww I know, precious softie you
> [all-encompassing vague Canadian apology]
> I'm just saying that one would only dare attempt to imagine Sisyphus happy cause Sisyphus probably realised there's no point in complaining about pushing the same fucking boulder up that hill every single day so he just stopped doing so
> one must imagine Sisyphus social media happy
> I be all up in my notes app grieving and shit
> the ocean and its endless metaphors
> [thought I didn't type out when I had it (it was important I remember) so therefore it's now gone forever]
> try to be kind cause you can never know if a person had to use the awful plastic handle fork that day or not
> please let me throw it away please
> please
> perfectly fine - why do you ask?
> little shrimp and elephants with bows and royal peasantry and peculiar peculiarities, metal wings, august 29th (all of them, actually) and colour palettes, spectrums, mashed potatoes, millefeuille, tartlets, dozens, [REDACTED], cooking, and, and, and, normal amounts all of them, perfectly normal, yes
> haha, I've been unintentionally foreshadowing all along
> a crippled short-term memory is a blessing in disguise now and then
> yaman yar x infinity
> herding sheep in the mountains (?)
> okay, enough
> bridges

uiscefhuaraithe - hozier

excuse you, it's my party and I get to choose the jazz fusion I'll vibe/silently lament to

(I know it makes sense cause products of environments and whatnot but reincarnation is more poetic so —)

drip - tigran

p.s. Pandora's jar

I do live by a cliff but it's only visible to me so you can't question it when I say that I've tried the method and maybe the intent was different back then cause I was simply tired of the nonsense physics of my (also invisible to you) personal river and thought that maybe, maybe - right, my bad yeah, you can't say some things on the internet. even thought it's your own blog and you should be able to say whatever you want but then you have to be responsible or whatever. whatever. it's no longer foaming but you know, can't always trust calm waters when you've nearly drowned in them a thousand times over. anyway, now we have a lake for skipping stones and fishing so imaginary that it doesn't hurt the fish and they can happily swim around after they've been returned to their home, and a mountain to the northeast (the name of which eludes me), an ocean that has to be earned now and the best fucking documentary on deep sea inhabitants that I've ever watched (fuck Nat Geo - I'm dying on this hill and will throw hands with you if you insist) so yeah, can't really complain about anything other than clock hands rotating non-stop. anywayz. sorry to say this but king David was absolutely based for telling his wife that he'd rather his maids fw him than her when she was so uptight about him dropping his image and rejoicing/living his best life (imagine hating on me and I'm just in the streets of Jerusalem dancing before the Lord with all my might). (have I said all this before?) (remember when bjork said that we shouldn't blame computers for people not putting soul into their music?) (I was thinking about gilgamesh yesterday, as one does, and five minutes later peter pringle uploaded) anyway. venezuelan butterflies, poodle moths (I need one), ant friends and don't question the self-inserts ever. fr stop that. also cooled lava sometimes looks like dog shit

name a thing more gratifying than sucking one author's 🍆 your entire life, I'll wait

hyperballad - bjork

p.s. call me Drake the way I sneak diss (please don't)

and anyway I don't think it was ever specified who was the dumb and who was the dumber one so just accept your role cause surely we would have sold a dead parakeet to a blind kid back in the day and no I'm not proud of it either but facts are facts and moving forward anyway, right? and if I want to triple-stamp a double-stamp I will - wanna hear the most annoying sound in the world? yeah you guessed it. sheesh. at least pretend not to be reading my thoughts once in a while? anyway. she actually terrified me cause I realised she was right. and I say I'll keep it in mind going forward but instead I've been looking back thinking what a fucking shame cause it really wasn't just the river, you know? you were right. maybe not fully right but right for the most part and no, you can't take it back now cause the most annoying sound in the world is entirely silent, fully reserved for ears that can pick up just a tad higher frequencies. I be driving the bats crazy. amongst other avian species. but you really should come with us in the summer cause I swear, man, it sounds like sonar - you'd fucking love it, and they're such silly little guys too. not that I've ever seen them with my own eyes, and that in itself is kind of funny I think because maybe that's how the legend came to be, ghosts singing their ghostly sonar songs before sonar was a thing, eternal mysteries until the internet came about and ruined everything. I miss them. honestly I think about them more frequently than I have a right to probably. anyway

remember when I told you about the 52 hertz whale and you told me that it sounds like bullshit and I asked you why and you said just because it sounds like that and then I took it personally (impossible challenge) and gave you the cold shoulder for the rest of the night? well guess what. it /was/ bullshit cause apparently all the other whales could hear him all along, and some bioacoustics professor said, I quote "he's just odd" - and if that isn't the most wholesome thing I've read this year Idk what is. but anyway. very belated apology and kudos for the intuition which in hindsight tends not to fail all that often but you know, what worth would my own superpower have if I heeded it on the spot? so on and beyond, keeping some things going forward, leaving others behind, rebooting as many times as needed, as God intended cause what else is there but effort at the end of the day? besides you projecting with that stupid necklace - I can remove that 'reformed' at the snap of two fingers so don't try me. anyway - stop laughing at me, shut up

(meet you in the next one where I'm an armadillo that gave in to the inherently intrusive stray cat urge to jump in front of rapidly approaching vehicles and you're some yeehaw rancher that's still inappropriately fascinated by roadkill)

keeping it in mind going forward too, I promise. restored pinky sanctity
fucking blessed actually

housewife - dr. dre

p.s. full offence ⁽ⁱˡʸᶠ⁾ (also something about the narrative of crashing cars but coming out unscathed and God's numerous nopes I think)

⁽ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵉᵃˢʸ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ʳᵘⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵃʷᵃʸ⁾

you know it was my own money? so obviously it mattered all that more and I'd say it's funny but we all know the fate of adultish children is childish adulthood anyway. funny axe-carrying man in an orange-brown deep sea diving suit (thought x-com I remember cause of course that's the sort of thing I'd remember - very important - then light bulb, to this day I think light bulb - sometimes accordion even though accordion doesn't always feel like a real word) and dark cyan and little fish swimming about, copy paste, and also the man was a little jarring, scared me a bit I recall so obviously intrigue times twelve. and I wish I remembered how much I paid for it at the time instead but I guess it also doesn't matter cause the fact remains that I had no idea my brain would be permanently altered when the cashier passed that receipt onto me. sludge and drone and heavy bass and a nagging inkling that 'I shouldn't be listening to this' so obviously intrigue times twenty-four. remember when having one of those portable cd players was absolutely a sign of privilege? I'd argue that having it stolen and feeling relief about there not being a certain cd in it was a sign of that instead. but anyway. [four-hour intermission] absolutely no one was happy about the two-headed dog poster but me, I know. and certainly someone still hasn't gotten over it but anyway maybe some day the sun will eat at the colours entirely and the axe will fade away and the dazed little flower (it's dazed - I'll die on this hill) will turn into compost and feed new roots and the sky will stop raining blood. but no touching them, you hear me? you're not supposed to tamper with archaeological sites, you know that. besides someday I'll be asked about them and I'll say don't I have a story for you, my little lotus

anyway. sold half my life for a chase but never that. can you believe it?
of course /you/ can

⁽ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᵘᵖ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵈⁱˢᵉᵃˢᵉ ˢᵖʳᵉᵃᵈ qᵘⁱᶜᵏ⁾

(I remember it btw. maybe cause it confused the shit out of me at the time - looking back, simple juxtaposition. hilarious how you couldn't wait to start though - a week I think? maybe two max before you sat me down, put a record on the player, taught me all about the devil's chord and how very scandalous black sabbath entering the scene with it was for those who knew. and you told me not to so I never told her - to this day she doesn't know - but don't you go getting mad at me when I put horns on and paint my skin red, all right? in my defence I didn't come up with the stereotypes and absolutely no one is going to look at a blue-eyed blonde and go like 'okay yeah, he looks like he could be the devil' - it fit better, get over it. besides you know he's uriel. yeah yeah blasphemy, I know - whatever - okay, fine, I /do/ regret it, wouldn't do it again. you happy?)

anyway here's a piece of news for you. I fashioned this strange android/alien/mermaid thing in my head based off of 'the mechanical wife' and probably affected by 'the sphere'/x-com and for some reason her name was 'silk' and we were running this strange colony in the abyss, bioluminescent lighting and everything, side by side. and I was so enamoured by her (should probably call her 'it' - underwater genderlessness was canon) that she managed to replace goldberry as the ideal for a few months - can you believe it? what? oh yeah I fell in love with words on paper when I was like eight and it was tragic as hell cause she already had a husband and I couldn't possibly compete with bombadil you know? here's another piece of news for you. the only times I ever settled were conscious intermissions during my lifelong search for them and you know what? I fucking found them, old man. something isn't always better than nothing. sometimes it's all or nothing at all instead - sorry, yet another hill I'll die on I'm afraid (the most annoying sound in the world being silent, yada yada, you know - loops)

⁽ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ'ʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵈᵉᵃᵈ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ⁾

(they can allude to sadness when they say they're feeling blue but we call that expanding beyond one's self, morphing into sea and sky, cursed and blessed to witness for eternity. ever-blurred lines between nostalgia and melancholy - I've been here before, I'm sorry. I was a water breather before, I know it - it's not delusion, I know it I swear)

a history of bad men - (the) melvins

p.s. what? no definitely stopped talking after the melvins bit - please don't submit me, I'm fine. this is fine, original gangster 🤟 (funny how a simple thumb makes all the difference, isn't it?)

day after day they take some brain away
(fuck out of here with your I don't like aliens bowie energy)
(if you didn't like arrival (2016) I don't trust you)
(sapir-whorf hypothesis is valid af)

it ain't easy - david bowie

p.s. mom, they're mocking me, do something ⁽ʷᵉˡˡ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁻ ᵃˢᵏ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ⁾

scum deluxe ⁽ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵉⁿᵈᵃⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵘⁿⁱᵗ ᵇʸ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵉˢˢ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵖᵉʳᶠᵉᶜᵗ⁾

a thousand miles - constructus corporation

you know, like they used to leave offerings for effigies? like they're probably still doing in places? it's the same thing except I'm trying to appease antlers that once reminded me of good that's still worth the effort. I didn't tell you. I didn't tell anyone in fact, not in detail - some things ought to be kept between man and deer I think. what flows through man and deer. it flows through you too and your neighbours when they remember to see without eyes. and I'll probably always think of lost causes and hopeless attempts before I notice a candy wrapper discarded in an alley, find that its colours beautifully complement the hues of the muck that surrounds it, that of the trash can it could have been dropped into instead and absently recall something about the beholder and what hides in his eyes. you spend so long staring at grey that pastels feel oversaturated sometimes, they hurt your eyes, you know? and I already miss the snow but the lack thereof implies the return of emerald so I will grace it I think. my numbers are finite and there is an element I must also appease

if you mean to love something, love it in every state. so humidity is fascinating if you think about it because it's particles of water so tiny that they behave like gas and here, let me think of the beholder again because I swear if you romanticise it you can learn to love anything under the sun. ice is just water. it doesn't mean to burn you and believe me, it too would rather be a stream flowing towards the sea, a cloud floating about instead of being motionless, frozen and silently awaiting the arrival of spring to reclaim its freedom. so try to see it without your eyes. give it grace and if you must, blame the winds that ushered it closer to the poles instead, forced it to betray its nature and destroy instead of nurturing

anyway. if I would ever risk its loss via ink it would probably pertain to my idol worship. or western sunshine. or both? or neither cause there shouldn't be a need for a reminder on skin I think? I don't know. this is my ass and I oftentimes talk out of it
what would a pendulum know about balance anyway?

introspection is not synonymous to isolation
isolation is not synonymous to introspection
say it again. and again. again, again, again —

⁽ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ?⁾

trusty and true - damien rice

listen all I'm saying is that it's integral that you laugh along with him otherwise he will laugh /at/ you louder and louder and louder and you'll get madder and madder and it'll all just be a big mess that'll haunt you until the next time he shows up and does the exact same thing and one of those times you /will/ frustration-cry just cause he's so fucking annoying with his stupid grin and crazy eyes and what is he even laughing about - what's so funny??? (don't ever take a business man's trip, kids - you /will/ find him there and he /will/ follow you for the rest of your life. if you want to see pretty colours just grab an actual kaleidoscope or something)

(today I saw an old man walk behind a car and never reemerge so I think I'm a horror movie protagonist now)

⁽ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʰᵒᵐᵉ⁾

hey remember the shivering isles? team mania or dementia? I always wanted to be team mania but as a light armour intellectual I had/have to go with dementia. and I still thought sheogorath was annoying af but also hilarious at the same time and now that I think about it there's a pattern here cause I've always gravitated towards clowns and their clownlike ways until I inevitably become a target of their jest. also if I may say so, a smart allegory having jyggalag and sheogorath each be a side of the same coin cause it really do be like that if you think about it. or maybe I'm just impressionable

(did you spiritually connect to the scene of the joker (2019) pausing everything to dance in a public washroom in a way that still has your soul in a chokehold six years later or are you normal?)

⁽ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʰᵒᵐᵉ⁾

anyway maturing is realising that you, a [gentle word for control freak], have been possessed by the trickster for the past 13 years because - "wait it's all chaos?" / "always has been" (fashion sense checks out too)

egg - mr. bungle

p.s. they really were out there putting a fictional jester in full converses huh? (I respect it)

blue-blooded Rattus norvegicus, Switzerland, circa 1349 (colorised)

⁽ˢᵒ ᴵ ᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵈᵉˣ ᵒʳ ᵖⁱⁿᵏⁱᵉ ᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʰᵘᵐᵇ⁾

(dismantle it one outdated expectation at a time)

the way I am - eminem

[thoughts here]

letter - laufey

⁽ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵒⁿ ʲᵘᵈᵍᵉ ʸᵒ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵘᵖˡᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉˢ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵘᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵃᵖ⁾

imagine thinking you can judge someone at their mr. morale when you didn't even know them at their damn (imagine thinking they'll care about what you're thinking)

⁽ᶠˡᵃʷˢ ᵇˡᵉˢˢ ᵉᵐ ᵗʷⁱᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ'ˡˡ ᵇˡᵉˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ⁾

purple hearts - kendrick lamar

honestly armenian militia with unknown device, jan 1990 pic keeps intruding and it won't stop being funny? (toob) [insert an array of gatekept thoughts here] anyway. I do be having thoughts and shit but you're not getting them no more. [something about gangster rap and grills] [REDACTED] wonderful things, closets, right? [REDACTED] good thing we love skeletons up in this bitch. anywayz

⁽ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉ⁾

in other news I've been profoundly bored to the point of considering living in my car for a while. just for the fuck of it. (think I owe it that much after cheating on it in spirit with that one tiguan? I apologise, I am an ever-changing man? you can never say never cause like - you ever transiently get the feels for a car and also lowkey [REDACTED]? should I get checked? should I sell my left nut for it? should I go into couple's counselling with my trusty blue friend?) (make all of my decisions for me?) (also that is not avocado green but I guess we're just naming colours whatever we feel like since the dawn of time or something) (toyota is and always will be supreme - nothing's changed) (sports and cars and beers and cigarettes - manly stuff, you know) (beer is so fucking gross actually - you can fight me on this, Idgaf) (lmao loser likes bread-flavoured water) (maybe when I die my soul will be split in as many pieces as the hills I earnestly claimed I'd die on) (akin to giving your soul away to a bunch of daedric princes, you know?) (no? that's okay, I'll teach you) ([REDACTED])

⁽ⁱⁿ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈʳᵘᵍˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵘᵍˢ⁾

you ever accidentally hit a digital unicorn during your attempt to stop a digital wolf from attacking it and it (the unicorn) turns out to be a daedric prince in disguise (therefore invincible) so you have to trap it in an outdoors stable so it won't kill you(r reptile man)? Ikr, so bothersome. (the closest thing I could go for would be a bosmer, taking their questionable diet choices into account. I guess the height too. allegedly)

⁽ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉˣ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵇᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ⁾

forgive me, Father, for I have genetically modified my DNA to host the bullshit like it's my job (sike! get it?) (no, I know) (the fact that I'm allowed to vote is proof that the system is broken and must be dismantled)

taste the money - fidlar

p.s. anutwyll indeed go a long way

you know you can listen to the same song over and over again and it won't make a difference? anyway, tonight you'll balance it all and remember something about a white disc surrounded by black and how nothing is ever without any light (ceiling still intact - we're good). remember seoul and what you went there for? (whiplash) remember remembering? (whiplash) how you kept draping curtains across windows and turning lamps off and yet somehow that darned light kept finding, blinding you? keeping your phone on silent just so you could randomly wake up to an angel one day - remember how he told you it'd get better and you doubted before you flew across an ocean? don't be a dick, be direct with admitting you were wrong already. no, wait - are wrong? yeah, surely present tense works just fine

hey, did you know scientific predictions are sometimes often bullshit and you can't tell a star when to throw a fit? it's been about eight months of you and an odd binary system cheekily winking at each other as you shove everyone else into that god-awful waiting mode you so loathe. pile, pile it on - the more matter the merrier, and the more you delay it the brighter it will be, mr. T. you know I check weekly? I do be thinking about you, little angst dwarf - give them a show when the time comes? sometimes I think about unspecified pairs of eyes finding you in the night sky when you choose to show and how their owners will think nothing of you; might confuse you for the northern one, not knowing of how long you've been waiting to shake it all off, of how they should be shedding tears at the sight of eighty years' worth of weight being lifted. anyway, I started this thought a morning and a night ago and I can no longer carry it as intended cause fuck if life can ever be predicted, right? (whiplash) freedom in the oddest of shackles, little one

oblong simultaneously sounds like someone gave up halfway through thinking of a word and like they thought they came up with the most profound one while 420ing (how do we feel about it?) (I love it even though I think it's the shape of my mind)

(anyone else addicted to the 'horse of' meme or do you have a life?)

hey, did you know march 11th is smokey d day in vancity? no? (whiplash) well, educate yourself - he's our fucking spokesperson. cause those who sing the unsung are the real heroes, you know. hey, don't ever stop relating to, feeling for the zombies; keep bundles of life on you at all times, okay? (¿ʎɐʞo 'lɐɯɹou ssǝɹp ǝq oʇ noʎ ɟo ʇɔǝdxǝ ʎǝɥʇ ʇɐɥʍ ǝq oʇ ʇǝɓɹoɟ ʇ,uop ʎǝɥ)

rename it debt and cope - go on and ball now, whiskers (whip. fucking. lash)

bbb - how to destroy angels

p.s. ayyyy bravil city gang 🔥🔥🔥 (tell me how fucking real they were for having the count's son be a skooma den patron)

anyway, may or not have spent 6 consecutive hours watching people getting massaged to '6 Hours Of Calming Chinese Music' or something (they've played you, it's a fifteen minute tune that loops constantly) and possibly straying again wondering about eastern spirituality and how maybe driving down the tianmen mountain road could heal me. or picking rice at the jiabang terraces could instead but then Idk, is having constantly pruned feet worth all the mosquito bites you think? (I haven't researched but I refuse to believe that a lack of flying/bitey pests could ever possibly be a thing over there) or do you think maybe you get so desensitised that it doesn't even faze you after, say, a month or something? and tibet of course because tibet is always there with everything that it entails or beautiful mongolia and its horse raves, Idk - you think maybe this is just escapism and I could get away with a screen and the majesty of fantasy instead? probably. daydreaming of exploration is easier than exploring. but anywayz. I'd settle for a normal sized apartment that smells of jasmine and warmth just to realise that it's what I wanted to escape to all along. or come home to. whichever works really. hey, past august version, do you have an answer yet? you think your carbon copy has changed his mind by now? hey, carbon copy, I genuinely thought you'd love me if I was a worm but now that I'm crawling Idk what's true and what isn't anymore (I think you do though?)

⁽ˢⁿᵒʳᵗ⁾

anyway, arev, you want to go to china and herd whatever it is that they herd over there (I'm sorry, google hasn't really been my friend for a hot minute - blame the bullshit ai assistants) or pick rice and (optional) completely question our sense of identity because apparently it shifts according to our surroundings and/or circumstances? want to watch me go full schizo mode and start wondering about past lives during the [insert chinese empire] era as soon as I step foot on archaeological sites that are build on magnetically significant patches of ground, start feeling some kind of way and take it completely personally (cause I'm me, you know)? want to smile at me, call me silly and ignore me until I come down again? (say yes, say yes, say yes) [REDACTED] x infinity

⁽ᵐᵉᵒʷ⁾

in other news, the other day (months ago) I was watching this one video and for the record, paranoid little poc, the tight smile-little nod combo is something that's offered to all strangers/passersby, not just poc. so I won't be called a racist for it, excuse you. and anyway, don't make me use my circumstantial and questionable half-poc card against you now - let's keep it civil, yes? [insert our nation has endured great hardship meme] (we don't talk about the alps, okay, we just have them touching our skin 24/7) - anyway, carbon copy, really? right in front of our nose my salad? look, unfortunately I'm genuinely winning the Idgaf anymore war but for the love of Խիո խիո խանե խանե reconsider your stance (?)

⁽ᵃʷᵒᵒ⁾

hello, this is my corner of the internet where I freely talk out of my ass to people telepathically instead of like being normal and actually talking to them in reality cause at which point do you accept that black and white thinking isn't your thing anymore? and like maybe there are more animals than just wolves and sheep and you were adopted or something (pff) - you could be a scavenger or something? or some ugly skittish thing or a stupid pretty thing either of which was born with the inherent urge to jump in front of moving vehicles. maybe you're a thing that coos or something that cackles or a pink thing that enjoys changing its colour in the mud or one that throws its shit at tourists and definitely is not happy when it bares its teeth at them. what if you're funky-looking chimp that likes to walk upright all the time and your human name is oliver and you fumble your supposedly superior-brained observers as you're being exploited for views/money until finally, decades later, you being just a normal chimp is revealed? what then? (lots of animals can look skyward - shut up with your etymology propaganda) dogs remember what howling feels like when someone's death is nigh, did you know? (also works for natural disasters) you could also be balto in reverse and it's the wolves instead that gag at the smell of dog on you - ever think of that?

⁽ᵇᵃʳᵏ⁾

stable? that's for horses, man
no, wait - fuck

⁽ⁿᵉⁱᵍʰ⁾

daydreaming - radiohead
dogs - pink floyd

p.s. always on that phone - kids these days, smh

eagles and how sometimes they are killed by arrows of their own feathers

gladwehaveanunderstanding - bones
es chem uzum asem - vnasakar

p.s. not now, kitten, daddy is having a midlife crisis bought a special detangling brush just cause it looked really cool but apparently the bristles feel like tiny tentacles slithering across the scalp Տ̷͖̰̼͙̟͔̅͗է̷̡̰̠̼͒̀̃̋̒̉͜͝՛̸̯͕̝̲̝͉̪͇̤͚́ր̴̫̙͔̖̘̥̐͛̆́̐͜͝ͅ ̸̡̛̙̳̩̣̠͌̑̿̃͛̿͘͠ո̷̡̩̼̝͔͙̩̀̎̉̿̈́͛̽̈̀̕ղ̴̛̖͙̪͓̻̝̠̤̲͚͌̉̋͒́͘͝ո̶̬̯̣͚̹̹͓͎͚̈́̒̽͌͗̌̌̊͂ր̴͙̩̱͚̹̤͇̑մ̴͓̮̲͗̿̓͝͠ե̸̛̛͇̹̅̄͛̾͋͘͘ա̴̜͚͕̬͍͖͈̏̆՛̶̡̪̥̙̱͕̙͠ ̵͙̠̩̉͛͂̋̑͘͜͝Տ̷̼͔͓̂́͊̈́ͅէ̸̢̟̐͒̓͂̈́՛̶̠̬̩̻͉̈́ր̶̨̐͒̑̈͜ ̸̧̥̜̞͖̰̹͔̐͐́̈́ͅո̸̨̜̺̐ղ̴̬͈͈̜͙͍̦̮̘͒̌̅̑ո̴̜̱̈́̋̓̃̿̕ͅͅր̷̧̘̟̣̞̟̱̻̆̒մ̵̘̠̟̣̮͎̞̤̘̀̈́͋̽͌̋̽͒͠ե̷̛̛̯̦̥͙̺̥̰̤̦̐̈́͜ա̷̡̧͓̠̩̰͇̺̤͑̀̚̚՛̶̧͇̻̹̯̳̠̥̠̈̆͑ ̸̬̗̲͍̼͋͋͂̽͌͋͝͝Յ̶̡͈̺͈̯̙̦̜̀͌̈̈́̈́ͅի̷̢̛̯̣̭̱̇̅̈́̈́͘͘ս̴̢̘̱̔̓͐ո̶͖̊́͑̈́̈̈́͝ւ̸̣͍̠̥͛͗͘ս̴̱͍͓̭̘̬̝̭̂͆̀̕ ̶̤̱̐͑͆̈́̄̈́́͘͜͝Փ̴̛̺̥̳̫̙͕̀͂̎̒͠ր̵̥̈́̈́̓̾͗կ̷̧̩̥̞͖̙̩͔̙͐̕ի̸͈͚͇̳͋̈͘͘չ̷̛̯̺͙̇̈́̓̏̄̃̎ ̷̧͚͚͔̭͈̖̫̣̭̽̊̀͌́̓́͐͝մ̴̯̌̆̓̂̆́͌͜ͅե̵̹̣̹̳̫͋̉̈́̿̒̔͊͛̌͘զ̶̠͓͇͐͗̽͒̌́̈́͠ ̴̢̛̛̬̝̙̝̻̏̒̀̀ո̸̧̬̘̝͕̹̜̺̠͍̇͋̑ղ̸̢̞̹͕̤̓̒̉͝ո̸̡̢͊͒ր̶̞̠̋̄մ̶̣̦̺͍̉̊̓̌̽̅̅͊̽͝ե̷̡͚̱̺͕͕̞̼̒͑̍̍ա̷̧̲̞̠̯͖̂̅̈́̾̈́̊̍͌̾̚ ՛̴̨̛̮̥͎̰͉́̾͆̿͘͜ͅ:̴̧̞͎̊͂͆͋͝ is busy going like vroom-vroom

maybe. maybe. translucent blue suspended around its opaque counterpart, metal and plastic, roaring on occasion, groaning mostly, tired and spent and still servicing cause that's what friends do, isn't it? maybe. I think it's soap somehow cause now and then we get to see the rainbow through interference, don't we, old friend? maybe. I reflect and you reflect and we reflect all that enters, finds hot-melt adhesive and gets stuck, awaits the cruel hand of starvation or the kindness of being euthanised a day or two earlier - much exits too. anger in darker shades and refined impatience nestled within words smithed in repetition so well that they convince of their earnestness - do you believe them too? when they promise endings? when they whisper of restorations and returning suns? scratch that - do you believe them? or are we as friends ought to be, unnamed one? extensions? can you read my mind? I think you can. maybe. I think I need you to be able to - I think, my lazur, I am immensely grateful to be in your company. and so, since you have my mind now, could you do me one more favour? I'll put my fingers here, and when I pry it open, reach in and take them, will you? use them on my behalf

much blue indeed. blue in what remains. blue in what moves. blue in LED, the history of which you cannot stop thinking about cause who tf even knows how many more things you use on the daily, take for granted, never spare a second thought to took decades to come to fruition. blue in what's soft. blue in print. blue in the sky when you don't want it there. blue on white for your tiny headaches because that's the colour of health. blue on rounded gods of the past because that is prospectively the colour of death too. blue that's not meant to find your eyes at 3 in the morning but that somehow always does. blue on album covers. beloved, that. blue in silly drawings of fish. blue as one third of a piece of fabric that signifies something. blue in irises. and bubbles. and reflections. blue in so many shades and tints and tones that it doesn't even sound like a real word anymore, does it?

pigeon blue 🖕

anyway. if it's worth anything, I still think you're handsome af. and also if the muskrat could do it to an actual human being, you shouldn't feel too bad about your name being nothing but a collection of letters, numbers and punctuation, unker; in a sense, that applies to us breathing vehicles too

look on down from the bridge - mazzy star

p.s. i eat cement

(1) why do you think that is? are we stupid or something? or are we too dizzy from constantly bobbing our heads to heed remembrance you think? anyway one had to learn the love of analogies, metaphors from somewhere and when I told you I'm not in love with the exocarp, you should have listened. or did I never use my words? honestly it's a tad disheartening that you still won't get my telepathic texts but we know all about extending hands and the crumbs they insult us with, don't we? drops in an ocean, my fellow messenger; yours was me and mine is the closing of a circle unfortunately - recessive genes, you know, all that jazz - I'm sorry you lost in practice but I promise one of these things is not like the others still and the others know it. fuck if I know if they're not feeding it in hopes of it making for a good sacrifice for gods that can never be appeased. but anyway. I understand why the corinthians needed the rod, aghavni-jan - I promise I know it's unnatural (remember how the og used to go on and on about сердце?) (home is where you can roll your r's to the end of fucking time or something - Idk)

(2) usual rod, why have you left the pudding-hearted alone? what do you fear at the end of the rope when a gust is all it takes? the late bandaids are appreciated but one would much rather see you tending to those that are not keen on scratching at freshly formed eschar, you know? and you should know it's a little jarring when you come to the conclusion that half your identity was linked to something that you no longer have - should have figured it that I'd half-ass it all with both ends landlocked and me choosing the ocean I guess. baze-jan, just some of it; my ice melts much too fast to allow for ecosystems to evolve beneath. it's much too thin to withstand real weight, it cracks and it thaws come spring and its bashful rays - and I'll die on the hill of strict not being a synonym of mean (so I've learned to fervently defend people behind their backs; mersi shat). and it's awful how you're always right and it's beautiful and I'm still not careful with the depths I dive into but I promise, when my eardrums finally burst, I'll remember the aspirin

(3) it's not for a lack of a firm grip and you know my handshakes are criminally weak unless I'm trying to convince of what's not there? hello, maybe one step at a time? hello, let me settle on the beard business first and recognise that I'm two steps ahead of you cause I ain't never seen yours so unkempt in 30 years and I still beat you to it? I don't know, maybe he doesn't want to see me cut in half? I'd ask of you not to judge learnt kindness but we both know that doesn't fly during hunts, does it? besides, ancient shunning - do you know when my hands aren't steady? I bet you do. regardless, I'm sorry if I had my stakes in your dishevelledness, I promise it backfired - what do you think, dev? not quite there yet, right? what do I think, dev? would you, like an addict that would not blink twice at using any tool at his disposal to get his fix, even weaponise that against the susceptible? I think you are well aware of solomon's absence actually. I think you knew all along that he would step back, unredeemed - I think you, artsiv, knew what you were doing when you laid your eggs in a nest of pigeons, didn't you?

(+) I think walt disney groomed me well and good for all of this actually? (you were wrong, antling; nala affinities didn't dictate the trajectory of my entire life cause scars are everywhere and scars are charming af - everyone. fucking. knows that)

(4) is it just us and our sleepy eyes against the world still? you ever wonder where we got them from? or am I the only one obsessed with sepia/b&w/overexposure up in this [REDACTED]? cause I do be staring and ain't nobody looking nearly as comatose as us (get it? yeah, I didn't laugh either). anyway. you can't blame me when you regret it, sorry - I've been looping the same record for over a year now and your tune never changed. so I think it's you that's legally [REDACTED] after all cause you've heard it all. or a lot of it at least. and you've seen much too. and you know I can't stand it when I say it's a and you insist on b. or you're too stubborn to admit you were wrong all along. and I'm too audacious to trust that you were. and everything is fleeting except the warmth of the sun because it's always there, even if the clouds are hindering its entrance. but trust that if it were a tangible constant I'd look like shit in eggplant purple 24/7/365 - hello, it's a pretty colour? and sometimes I think it's nice when the grief materialises on fabric draped across a debated and bastardised shade of white. but anyway. siramarg-jan, your clear to my muddy, and always here to correct your bullshit takes on the names of colours? no, fuchsia isn't hotter than hot pink - hello, implied red is literally in the name of the latter? yeah, you claim yours and I'll claim mine and when we both come down, want to find a hill somewhere in the middle to die on together? like I'm good, but all the angels will laugh at you when they find out, just so you know - so reconsider? and don't say I didn't warn you? (you know I'm emotionally attached to pixelation - leave me alone)

(5) you I don't have words for that I'd like to share with the class. only that mint is inherently green and it's a [REDACTED] shame that the general hue has been associated with the root of all evil? only that the moon feels but a hop away when you're around. and maybe that we'll find a bird for you too someday - you that grows in the most inhospitable of environments, lotos-jan, undoer (always and forever and unto the ages of ages) (amen?)

(6) you - who do you think you're fooling? think they can't smell the prey on you? shave it off and make dreadfully scratchy blankets out of it - have it embroidered? yeah, you know just the way (flowers and shieeet) ugh, just [REDACTED] already - click, click, click (everyone can hear it, you know; get uggs or something)

(7) every tomorrow is a new tomorrow until you run out? I'll save it. I'll tell you in person soon, I promise - and I understand why, anggh; always told myself you had an excuse at least, you know? besides, you should know I'm not lying when I whisper of returns - whatever those entail, feral little teddy bear; shame you were gifted the moon and you chose to make a serpent out of it, isn't it? but anyway, I digress

հաբրբան - ջանեջան

(8) yar ko parag - haig yazdjian

p.s. (9) hey, I had the cockroach dream again. but it was sort of tweaked cause when I opened the door it was just waiting there, completely stationary save for the slow swinging of its antennae, like a proper poised gentleman, and it didn't charge in? anyway I still closed the door and what always follows did (somehow) and now I'm thinking of you warning of the necessity of pacing and how I've failed at that again. and since I have, do you still think bittersweet daydreams of migrations are childish? yeah, I know, trrchun-jan, but honestly - don't you think they've won already? (you know to be using millions of years' worth of pattern recognition skills for the instant spotting of loss memes is what God intended, duh) (the narratives, you know?)

thoughts:

> all I'm saying is that, practically, no one can stop you from buying a horse and pretending to be a cowboy (but you should probably look into how you're supposed to take care of horses beforehand)
> (is this escapism?)
> because, apparently, if we'd stuck to our predominantly carnivore diet and not welcomed the carb demon into the collective consciousness, our heads wouldn't have shrunk the way they did and I wouldn't have to be considering flying halfway across the world to get these useless teeth removed rn smh
> (is this escapism?)
> future primitive ong fr fr
> the vast majority of humanity has no real survival skills and it's kind of funny when you think about it
> waiter! waiter! can I please have a day that doesn't feel borrowed?
> btw when you have like a really weird tasting peanut that leaves a horribly bitter taste in your mouth that means you just had a worm that crawled into it and died too, you're welcome (how do you feel about necrocannibalism now?)
> Idk man I just don't think 13 year olds should be wearing 'I come in peace' - 'I'm peace' t-shirt combos, call me old-fashioned (I wasn't mortified or anything)
> hey would you still love me if I was a louse on your head that laid 200-300 eggs during its 30-days long lifespan? (I would reincarnate on you over and over again)
> same dream about the same cockroach every other night (I know it's the same one cause I feel it, you know?) so now I'm thinking I should get an apartment cause maybe there's a friend waiting for me there
> (is this escapism?)
> fuck tom hanks
> if you're stuck in a convo you don't fw no one can stop your brain from mamase mamasa momakusa-ing its way out of there
> stańczyk
> sure when mj does it he's got a hit song but when I insistently ask people if they remember the time I'm 'being weird' and I 'can't let go' smh
> "it's cause you didn't approach the drugs pure of heart, man, give them another go, man, it'll be different this time, trust me, man"
> carbs are evil unless you're strange and secretly enjoy waking up nauseous
> don't let them tell you that all water tastes the same
> they just don't make rap like they used to (add sound clips of people pissing/coughing out a lung after a hit)
> Idk man I just think this one's unthaggable (Romans 5:8)
> I think I'm a victorian child haunting personified
> one day you're a normal guy (ignore the above) and the next you notice that when you press your ear to a pillow it sounds like a worm is swishing through water and sleep is ruined now (I'm not sure about this sentence)
> stories in which the main character isn't saved are important so we can all be reminded that most of us are just a few bouts of greed/boredom away from selling our soul to a demon in favour of 24 years' worth of magical powers that'll earn us an eternity of fire and pain (I would think about it honestly)
> (is this escapism?)
> you think maybe if we wear white all the time and pray before every meal we'll convince them that cup reading isn't paganism/divination?
> waiter! waiter! can I please have the greater lesson in all of this?
> imagine raising a child to mj, david bowie and queen and they grow up to be bi and you're shocked about it
> if I walk into your place and snl is playing you are legally required to financially compensate me
> I'm just saying that if you're going to be bought from the same batch, citrus fruit, make sure you've got consistent peeling difficulty cause I'm not about to have my entire day be ruined by a difficult-to-peel mandarin proceeding an-easy-to peel mandarin anytime soon again smh
> good on the egg front though
> crazy how we can use our fingers, right? like so efficient damn
> I really just don't delete shit huh?
> onlyfans but it's just me, fully dressed, taste-testing pastirma from different regions (I'm also wearing a monocle)
> (primate smile)
> stable? that's for -
> the long dash scares me cause it looks like flatlining when many of them hold hands
> I'm doing this challenge called june where you june
> rich people laughter is a real thing and I'll die on this hill
> yeah but would you still love me if I was a maggot smoking fag on [insert] blvd?
> radio gaga is one of the most romantic songs ever written and I'll die on that hill too
> thom yorke is, was and (hopefully) always will be based
> I'll have you know that my restless leg syndrome and/or being physically unable to stop rocking back and forth is actually my rizz
> waiter! waiter! [REDACTED] please?
> do you like fish sticks?

lost in hollywood - soad

if you don't fw with nechayev's pierrot I don't fw with you. simple as, really

a burning hill - mitski

p.s. don't mind me, I'm just trying to locate a root that I thought I already had (or just can't be convinced that this hole is deep enough, man)

careful if you keep saying it is what it is; you will eventually forget what it actually is ⁽ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᶠᵃⁱᵗʰᶠᵘˡ ᵐⁱʳʳᵒʳ⁾

teardrop - massive attack

maturity is not exposing your cognitive decline for the viewing (dis)pleasure of the internet deciding to keep a 1k word rant to yourself

anyway, just don't trust abusers disguised as saviours is what I was going for I suppose? hear the echoes of actions rather than those of words. and the truly loving always forgives - don't let them convince you otherwise. God knows they will try

why did I laugh anyway - dev lemons

p.s. no mom, I don't need therapy complete cognitive restructuring I have the 1/4th ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳˢ still

(quick one: how does one ever let go of anything at all beyond the realm of being too exhausted to let said anything consume one (again)?)

remember in the sims 2 when you could challenge the grim reaper to a fiddle contest and if you won you got to stay alive? you ever wonder why it's the fiddle that's been chosen as the instrument that suggests someone is being manipulated and/or being played in general (and do you think it has anything to do with the devil analogy) (and are you also averse to the google AI assistant popping up with every search to the point where you can no longer satisfy your knowledge-centred wills and whims cause it feels like you'll get an aneurysm every time you look something up)? you think maybe it's cause it's shrill af and can only be enjoyed in small doses on its own or larger ones only as a complement to other instruments? do you think yourself alike the fiddle too? is this starting to sound like a late night infomercial to you? anyway in another timeline I am a great violinist but in this one yervinyan stole my spotlight and I'm left with frustration tears over strings indulging in their stringy nature I guess. you ever shove your feet so far deep into the ground over something so insignificant that you can actively feel yourself aging backwards and resorting to techniques you pretend you haven't revisited in some 20+ years? you know like being in a constant state of overwhelm that has you acting in ways most peculiar and special needs-adjacent out in public and you can't even be bothered with how you look to others anymore? wait is this loss freedom? lmao right | || || |_

(quick one: how does one dismantle the notion that change of any form (even positive) is the emotional equivalent of being doused in gasoline and set on fire?)

anywayz. the license plates always come first and on the front of special interests I have been thinking of nothing but the sun and cars for a while now. mostly cars. think I manifested my rose-gold crush on the street the other day too and if I switch to team electric before the global government forces us to abandon our cavemanlike combustion affinities (admit it) please be reminded of my criminally mutable nature and forgive me for it. if you want. also with the above in mind too, do not question why I'd teeter between a most [REDACTED]-looking city car and an 'I am definitely not overcompensating'-sized SUV - okay, thank you. and yes I am indeed ashamed I haven't even glanced at toyota for a hot minute but in my defence the newer modest do be looking a little too futuristic for my liking so I guess that means I'm in my style over comfort era (I announce in my glorious white tank, sweats and sneakers combo) - anyway I could go on but I'll close with some vague statement about companies making their logos rainbow-coloured for june being stupid af (we can all see right through you) and how the two ends of my car crushes are really just a reflection of my sexuality or something. not that that's any of your business

(quick one: how does one stop listening to the demon on one's shoulder when it tells one that one should be sus of anyone that exhibits genuine intentions towards one?)

that all said, կկարոտեմ քեզ, իմ կապույտ

pyramid of health - viagra boys

p.s. I'll have you know I'm not even a little stitious

"hey have you seen that old interview of tupac where he's highkey being fruity? he straight up tricked the entire worl—" shut the fuck up. [REDACTED] pieces of shit that think that what people do in their bedrooms is a) any of their business and b) somehow adds or retracts from their worth as people and/or artists. how'd he trick the world? by once having been a theater kid? by having potentially swung in a way that doesn't agree with your worldview? has your tiny brain been chiselled into a square so perfect that you can't fathom the notion of juxtaposition? of jarringly antithetical multiplicities existing within the human (et al) psyche? bet you miss so many colours naming them all red and blue and green - it's wine and glaucous and seafoam and bet you mix all the wrong greys together when you assemble your boring little fits - fuck off. bet you think tyler the creator was the worst thing to happen to rap from flower boy and on. probably throw fits every time igor starts playing in any capacity - you know just try to be normal and vibe/suffer through it like the rest of us normal people who had to skip out on wu tang and remain severely hip hop uneducated until our early twenties cause our father found out they are [insert religion], worried we'd be influenced some kind of way and only let us listen to rappers who talk about guns, violence, money and occasionally mention Christ. and anyway if you've never had a recurring identity crisis with every year that you listen and deeply relate to tyler's puppet what have you even been doing with your life? loser, you think fruitiness nullifies street involvement - what am I even asking you? "aunties diaries - fuck, kendrick's gone woke too?" fucking loser

for the record, I just think it's beautiful that kendrick sampled made ni**as for reincarnated. no reference more perfect to get the point across and if you disagree with me you're wrong sorry (I'm not - won't even humour your shit take)

anyway, enough with you.

(24+) (stop pretending to be part of the culture like you didn't grow up listening to rock and classical music, loser)
(-24) (bro, weren't you just preaching about multiplicities?)

hey, important one, I'm sorry green's poisoned my brain. you know, learning and unlearning and how they're sort of exponentially analogous - ong when and if I ever get over my earthly greed, I'll crunch the numbers and actually draw the function for you and then you'll have no choice but to love maths the way I do, you'll see it for the collection of melodies that it is. and maybe by then all the unheeded smartphone warnings against the volume that I choose to listen to my music at will have caught up with me and I'll only have the functions and waves on paper to remember the sound of your voice and my favourite records through. but you know I can't stand the thought of existing without organised sound so I'll derail this train on my own, all right. on an unrelated note, truly something else when socially inept people are put in positions of guiding other people towards being socially apt, isnt' it? anyway, I'm sorry I still feel kendrick's feel with my entire soul now and then but you know, at least I'm not pretending to be stable and/or capable of helping other people towards being stable

(24+) (I lied - I've been riding [REDACTED] for the last 13 years)

everyone knows I hate drake a little extra cause euphoria personally attacked me (sneaking diss is pointless when yours ops are brainless though ngl)

(24+) (go listen to twinz or minor or something)
(-24) (well minor lowkey slaps so)

anyway, does anyone know what one is supposed to do when one's brain is permanently stuck on a mode that only allows for the quiet to be identified as a calm before a storm? asking for a hopefully someday enemy-to- friend. also I didn't get to choose this brain so I don't get to choose what incredibly specific hyperfixations will trigger my online schizorants either (passionately fighting in the comments is tradition - please don't disrespect my culture) - sorry (honest) but in my defence, what reason do I have not to gatekeep all the good when the world feeds on the bad?

see? I'm generous like that

(24+) (I'm never going to let you live those braids down, loser)

blasphemy - 2pac kush & corinthians - kendrick lamar

p.s. (1) back 12+ hours later with the decision to include this: vnasakar should really get back together cause some random canadian սփյուռք հայ thinks they both peaked when they were making music/performing together and everyone knows the entire world revolves around him, duh (please, I miss your collaborative sound, guys) (please, you know misho's consonants irritate me) (yeah, I know this is blasphemous) (still I can't start listening to misho, man, come on) (please) (you two even have a cute ship name and everything like) (please)

p.s. (2) back 24+ hours later to announce that I'm so tired of everything being a big plot to keep us trapped and asleep - fuck gangster rap and everything that created it for the reasons that it did and fuck me for consistently giving record labels my money (ayyy full prisons are full pockets amirite 🔥🔥🔥) - anyway, do you have a moment to talk about our not-lord and not-saviour kendrick lamar?

we should have stopped at hieroglyphics

mouth mantra - bjork keep it, hold it - fka twigs

thoughts:

> I regret to inform you that the world does indeed revolve around me
> and you and you and me and you and you and you and me and you - cause we're all just freaky little creatures that are stuck in their own heads and think everything is about them and can't fathom a world in which other freaky little creatures have their own problems and thoughts and feelings, detached from them and their thoughts and their feelings and and and also also also -
> my favourite photos are the ones in which I look [REDACTED] af and make me question my full physical presence - like really? is this how I've been moving through life all along?
> if you must know I have adopted biphasic sleep and grunt-based communication and anxiety in honour of my ooga-booga ancestors so excuse you - respect my culture
> buddy, if I knew how to take a hint I wouldn't be living proof of the official definition of insanity
> no one tells you that if you read the little prince as a child it sets the friendship bar so high that you can only ever drift through adulthood wondering why it's not the way de saint-exupery said it would be
> no one tells you that the one ring is a remarkably apt metaphor for one's vices either and that if you identify with frodo early on you only ever get one sam during your entire lifetime (sorry for leaving for valinor again - ily)
> imagine if seoul of all places was the undying lands (in a sense it is) (shut up)
> every recovered music snob will tell you that their life is that much better for having been enhanced by the blessing that is cunty music
> I need my mane back
> cars
> you can say what you want about the french but they have igorrr so they automatically win - sorry, it was a tough one for me to swallow too
> I do enjoy a good song about a horse stomping me on the head or two (if you have a 'two' to recommend I'm all ears)
> it's kind of absurd how sus some people get when you tell them you're mortified by the amount of data tracking google does. as if that's not a normal concern to have as a conscious being; I don't actually need to be hiding shit to be concerned over fucking big tech knowing what time of the day I /take/ a shit during?
> cars
> you are only ever as chill as the amount of composure you exhibit when you're faced with malfunctioning software/hardware (tip: this is how you check for concealed anger issues btw)
> I just think it's very appropriate that welcome to the jungle starts with a hauntingly beastly howl (do you get irrationally irritated when people call the lion the king of the jungle when everyone knows it lives in savannas or are you normal?)
> in another life I would have really liked just doing drugs and gang stalking with you
> would you still love me if in my dreams we were cruel together in a very primal manner and somehow I found that exhilarating? (we had cool fits on)
> for that matter, would you still love me if my dreams kept revealing to me that I am fundamentally awful?
> please let me into the higher ends of the pyramid, I can be trusted with power (lying)
> I just choked on my spit (warning)
> cars
> switch, but in the sense of sometimes being the lady and sometimes being the tramp (as God intended)
> my hobbies? you know, exposing myself, wall-staring, numbers, worshipping idols, riddles - that sort of thing
> be a man. link your self-worth to your productivity. fret over idleness. daydream about awful times during which you were making good money. keep it, hold it. worship green. eat liver.
> I just think it's lovely how we're all fake af here in the west (lying) no wait - this isn't the west
> sorry for doing the thing after saying I wouldn't do the thing
> listen if I don't release my unhinged musings like a crazy pigeon lady I will explode
> cicadas
> if one (1) more car goes by I will cry
> what would Jesus pingu do?
> stop confusing my collection of useless trivia for intelligence please
> sorry, the forehead vein said I can't go out tonight - can we reschedule?
> you ever feel like you're just one energy drink away from having a heart attack or have you historically treated your body like a temple?
> cowboy fun fact: through everything fr
> can WW3 please be cancelled due to white boy summer already?
> everyone is going through something you know nothing about. for example I have to navigate through a capitalistic hellscape with the brain of a caveman that is terrified of anything unknown cause it automatically identifies it as a potential cause of death I am human me
> most mundanely and non-concerningly, of course
> cars
> could you please show me where it hurts when you say Idc when you actually care a lot on the doll?
> SURPRISE ENZYME PARTY!!!1!!1!

the same song - linda lewis

p.s. can we actually bring back the enzyme party-adjacent public transport seat covers and embrace the colourful silliness again please? (please)

redacting, adding, rephrasing, regretting, deleting, rewriting, burning, freezing, thawing, dripping, aestivating

anyway (1) crazy how humbling bugs can be. they're like oh you think you're cool? well I've been crawling across your back for the past seven minutes and everyone can see it except you - dumbass lmao. (also, technically, if you have a large enough supply of mealworms and no time pressure, you can get away with murder easy) (hey, you mind if I watch timelapse videos of things decaying without pause for hours on end?) (oh, all the cool kids are lowkey terrified of fungi spores - didn't you know?)

anyway (2) sometimes we do get memos in this household, and since we aim to appease (name three people that are pleased with y-), the vagueness remains and we vaguely talk of very specific blessings and vaguely bitch about the ruins of carefully curated plans and also time and its ever-elusive qualities, wave little blurry flags about (except when we fully unblur them) and we only just barely blow into our little party horns so that we can trick everyone into thinking there's a fly with a compromised throat health status in proximity and most importantly, above all else, we maintain the periphery grounds. tip top shape. (acab includes your awful dictatorship urges btw) but we wonder why sometimes yet don't linger on that word for too long, except when we start translating it to warum cause we've been thinking about german lately and warum goes unnecessarily hard, and we also have inchi for it but that hits too close to home so we don't stay there long either and por que of course and layh and wei shenme and then we even hit that pourquoi cause when confusion really takes a hold we can forgive french even, can't we? also when we focus on the linguistics of it all, etymologies and the inherent weakness of translation, we can distract our mind from the deafening static long enough to convince ourselves that an answer is only ever as conceptual as its corresponding question, and since we, through crime and punishment, have been conditioned to dread the adverse effects of direct communication, we're really truly not in the right to complain about our apparent corner-smudge-like nature. especially when we've been aptly associated with those little buggers that are constantly moaning in our heads, right? (you think our nose would glow if you put us under UV light too?)

we also maintain that mac demarco now looks like a stranger from nova scotia that you randomly come across, share a really humane moment of casual kindness with and then have your faith in your own restored for a brief amount of time
(also my best friend is better than yours forever)

(hey, in hindsight there was definitely something wrong with us from early on cause do you remember the sheer amount of times we played that indigo prophecy demo just to see the guy get stabbed?) (something about those write eyes Idk) (yeah, still a mystery how I got my hands on it as fahrenheit ngl) (but hey, in hind-hindsight I think it was the cinematic camera angles - like you know that's the sort of memories that are meant to survive, right, video games feeling like movies?) (but I maintain that that's a bold fucking way to introduce a story/character to a player) (hey, remember getting so fed up with me looping santa monica in lucas' apartment instead of actually playing the game that you straight up just left my house one day?) (hey, would you still leave?) (hey, remember the asylum? I had an adjacent dream recently and I could tell it was influenced from that bit) (they were harmless there though and I felt bad about being scared of them, you know?) (hey, did you actually not mean it?) (like honest?) (honest-honest?) (I be like Idc and then randomly bleed out of my nose) (hey, do you remember?) (ohoooo) (I know, I know) (I mean, tell me it wasn't entirely appropriate that we'd watch barbie before oppenheimer) (to be a princess is to know which way to spoon, yes) (you really don't need to speak it to be an honourary member - you know we're keen on adoption - especially if you're going to be sending me hay-adjusted memes at 3am - shouldn't you be sleeping rn, dumbass?) (ily2ssm) (did you actually not mean it though?) (ohoooo) (I know, I know - I be like Idc and then loop)

(hey mom, can you come pick me up, I'm scared go into my room and [insert the nerdiest fucking request that one can palpably feel disappoints as soon as it has been brought into existence]?)

anyway (3) I think powerade should commission me to do like a weird commercial where I be acting like a recovering alcoholic and relapsing every time I buy it cause Idk why having sugar in blue liquid form is the shame-machine when I have even worse forms of sugar entering my stream on the daily - like I think it'd really catch on cause people are really keen on the notion of doing what they're not supposed to be doing, you know? (hey, is it normal to feel ashamed over the hold that sugar has on one's brain?) (hey, you can always just pour it into an opaque container and pretend it's water or something) (hey, you can always just /try/ to get over your weirdly specific social anxiety inducing bullshit) (hey, maybe you're allowed to like the things you like?) (hey, maybe you can just /try/ to be normal - that definitely won't, in the longterm, backfire gloriously; trust me) (staring at my opp in the mirror like damn, he straight up mogging me rn - fuck)

anyway (4) did you know that we fumbled pigeons and destroyed their sense of instinct so bad that they are now lowkey renowned for picking life mates of entirely unrelated species? yeah and that's proof that AI assistants are full of crap and that google is entirely broken now cause it's an actual thing, I swear I remember falling into a tiny rabbit hole about it some years ago and I'm not making it up - do you seriously trust big corp more than your local schizoposter? smh - wait, wdym no one cares? rude

anyway (5) when I have a castle of my own a) you will not be allowed in (take it back) and b) there will be an entire section of the garden uh... sectioned off and dedicated to artichokes allowed to bloom (have you seen them? fucking gongeous) and we'll have another one for artichokes grown for consumption and each season we'll switch the seeds around so no one line will get accustomed to either being used or adored. that, yes, that's how we're going to do it (stop laughing, Dad)

anyway (6) I love it when people die and [REDACTED] immediately feel inclined to point out all the horrible things they've done like just say you've never been addicted to anything other than soap operas, sharon, we get it - stfu and let a fucking relatable icon rest now (I'm sorry, prince, I can't deadthpost while I'm lifepilled celebrationmaxxing) (I'll get to you in time, I promise)

anyway (7) that's just what happens when hammers are beat into what's meant to be soft and malleable until it's morphed into a collection of overstuffed sharp-edged boxes of categories, yes's and no's, and if I could go back I would actually, I would keep myself from trying to understand them at the expense of forgetting how to understand me and, by consequence, you but alas, the damage is done, I've taught myself how to read between lines. and I can't stop reading between lines, and I can't stop imagining that each string of words hides an ocean that I'm meant to dive into beneath it, and I can't stop reading between lines, and I'm entirely self-aware despite my frequent lack of control, and I'm a control freak, and I need my fucking scripts to work cause wtf did ET spend all this time trying to understand the people for if they won't behave in the ways that these boxes suggest they would, and I feel cheated, and I can't stop reading between lines, and I can't stop pouring between lines, and I can't stop waiting for you to dive into the oceans, and I can't stop, I can't stop, and I have a song for just about everything so here - I love I love I love no matter how much they take especially when my hands feel just like two balloons, and if keeping your hand on the stove hurts so much then just [REDACTED]

anyway (8) of all the ways that a head can be spinning, being assaulted by a barrage of fucking amazing new music gotta be one of my favourite genders, and I'm good with silence, I've lived through entire tragedies in the ways of the pawnbroker - just promise you'll fly when you jump out of that window, yes?

anyway (9) sorry for saying I would let go of the thing and then not letting go of the thing using fire for destruction instead of creation learning how to speak breathing being contagious the living embodiment of ohoooo

[...]

because you know, you can have an awful man tell you men do this, men don't do that, even when you don't need an awful man to tell you this and that, because you've already gathered so by observing and, therefore, mimicking and you, a man, were (was?) probably once inclined not to that-ing by nature, and now you're neither not-inclined nor does an awful man need to tell you this and that, because an awful man gets to see you this-ing, doesn't get to see you that-ing, even if you keep that-ing on account of him making you this. very few men, in fact, awful or wonderful alike, get to see you that because that's the way it has to be, but maybe one man, a grey man, will get to see you that because of this, and he'll know that you weren't made for this-ing. with a stamp. wait, that's already happened. so hey, maybe a grey man deserves far more credit that he'll ever get, because grey men tend not to get much of that (it's the rules), and not because he doesn't that as a result of this-ing but rather because he's retained soul integrity through it all. a whole bunch of men, whatever colour they are, don't that, in fact, so maybe you, an apricot man, should stop thinking about the echoes of this-ing by now. I know, I know, but maybe if you don't actively lie there, staring at walls and projecting vivid stillshots of it all, it'll finally click that you're on the other end of the diameter, and you can relax now. unclench it. and stop gritting and perhaps even realise that you can that with an audience (attention: this is a lie, don't fall for it - attention: this is a lie, don't fall for it) because maybe the real treasure (?) was the awful or wonderful or grey or rainbow or see-through or formless men we've been carrying with us all along - and who are you to call another awful anyway, apricot man?

the theseus ship, you know? it's philosophy and shiet

hey, poised little man, burnt orange man, can you truly fault me for the fragmentation? because I seem to recall your habits of privacy, the jarring transitions from quartets and their strings to the decades of your youth and their bass and their zurna to the decades of all of our youths and our births and our deaths and our rebirths and their parkapzuk - and why, do you think, nothing can ever replicate that? suppose we fuck the concept of past lives for a moment (and suppose, before that, said concept is one you obsessively ruminate on too) - is it because of the altitude? because of bitter almonds, and barren soil, and winds that can knock you off of your feet, and soul that grows through the lack of abundance, all cement-flower-like, and grows and grows until it spills out of big pores, and big eyes, and big nostrils, and big fucking mouths, slides over to the carcass of an animal and thinks hey, this is beautiful, we can make a religion out of this what if it made sounds? what if it made sounds so ripe with anahit's spirit that it'll have you all, during your darkest and your brightest and perhaps even your most mundane of moments, thinking about mountains, fluffy creatures and solitude? do new promises negate their predecessors? and maybe you, self-anointed sacrificial lamb, you who clings to gold and considers when staring up at blue or grey, productive or reflective, you who is aware of all that is out of control, and you who sees against his will, you, mundane you, created you, simple and boring and enlightened you, foolish you, you who is heard through silence, who is fated to only ever be heard through silence when there is no longer a desire for audience, you, a dozen times over cremated you, you who perishes and rises each day, each hour, you who engages with the seasons like a clumsy, untrained method actor, hateful you, loving you, you who only ever learnt to cling to ends, you, you, you who persists, unacknowledged, morphs, transforms, transmutes, remains forever unchanged, still and stagnant, you, bog creature you, fingerpainter, unworthy poet, you, sound connoisseur, human-or-dancer you, dancer, dancer you, dancer you, you who dances, you who only ever feels real through dancing, you, hallucinator you, you who seeks snow and mountain and water to dance, and you who freezes, you who thaws, unwitnessed, you, looper you, dancer you, ever-dancer you, maybe you, human, dancer, should consider that they never have to understand. they don't have to understand a fucking thing - just keep dancing. whatever people and songs and drugs and words and machines and compositions, whatever anything does to you, don't ever stop dancing - and in older words, aril, habrban/jane jan it till you make it
your drum. your beat.

so hey. dancer. how about you refresh that ancient vow now?
you did well with this, honest. just keep it up

goghtan - norayr kartashyan

where do you feel it in your body? where do you feel it in your brain? where do you feel it in your dreams? are your dreams visions? do you remember the one with the lion? are you still pretending it wasn't that big of a deal or is it just difficult to accept that the real-life equivalents never quite shook you up as much? did everything go awry after it or is this cleansing? does it hurt when you scrape sunburnt skin off? do you like the feel of new-skin goop on your fingers or is it simply the notion of freeing what's struggling to breathe beneath the dead that warms you? are you constantly terrified of alluding to certain topics? do you do it anyway or do you refrain? was the lion truly scorched? is the lion still tormenting you, king? is the lion the king? what's all the rest then? does the lion concern itself with the opinions of others, king? ohoooo. can the lion shut up now? is the lion a social and clingy animal in actuality? is actuality a stupid word? does the lion being a king imply the lion living in a society? is the lion going to be catapulted into the air by a fed-up elephant any time soon, you think? do you think it should be? did the stars decide all this for you or did a divine Hand accidentally drop too much of something into the you-soup? too much lion? is that why the moon matters so much, you think? is that why the sea ebbs and flows? why you mimic it? is that why the sea matters so much? why the crab walks sideways? is the crab a silly thing? does everything tie into everything? are you afraid of the sun? is that why you won't track it anymore or are you too afraid to look at an idol in the eye? do you think it will take yours away? can you only appreciate it when reflected? do you think it's viscerally relatable that his name is sunny? is a clown a jester? is a jester a king? is a king a lion? king of the tundra? is this where all the tundra daydreams come from? maladaptive? is apathy a synonym of reason? is the sun a man? several men? why, do you think, they'd try so hard to dim what they consider the sun? ohoooo. did they succeed? do you produce or do you reflect? does it depend on the season? do the laws of physics adhere to themselves beyond what's visible? is there an in and an out? where is your place on the mobius strip? is there such a thing as subjective experience? is identity real? a lion? are you embarrassed to present in your half-scorched mane? do you feel exposed, king? ohoooo. think it'll mess with the application of your royal decrees or are you still pretending that you can't tell silver and brass apart? which one feels better in your mouth? which one bubbles better? do you miss it? ohoooo. which one reflects clearer? remember the eclipse? do you miss it? ohoooo. are you staying present, pleasant, proud? are you confused? have you strayed from protocol? are you at a loss for words? does the handling of strings still make you cry? no harpsichord? well, are you harmonising in thirds at least? wait, why are you eating with your hands? ohoooo. why are you playing with your food? ohoooo. wait, did you just show dismay? crack? why are you turning your back, making your bed? wait, why are you using your heart? ohoooo. is it too loud? want to lower the volume? miss it, king? ohoooo. what's it? whatever it is, do you miss it, king? what would has Jesus dostoevsky do written, king? why aren't you talking, king? ohoooo. why are you giving skinwalker energy whenever you stop performing, king? ohoooo. can you stop staring now, king? ohoooo. can you stop, king? ohoooo. king? king? ishkan?

ayo?

tou mi arev - element band

my hobbies:

(over)eating hot chip, lying, whitewashing every awful thing I've ever done for the comfort of others, pretending like I didn't exist before last september, looping music and/or thought patterns, taking off my glasses after I've seen enough, rubbing my eyes until I hallucinate (acutely), undermedicating, shitting on south korea for not casually selling cbd oil, uno reversing anger towards the internal, that-ing, worshipping money and other various idols, straying, thinking about my cat, missing my cat, feeling bad about missing my cat when I have a new inanimate son to love, holding my inanimate son in a very adultlike mannner, invisible rocking chair-ing, dancing, never replacing anyone ever, not letting go, remembering (inadequately), forgetting (inadequately), feeling and mostly resisting the urge to spend good money when I have no active income, preemptively missing you before you've even left, doing chores to avoid the existential dread setting in, musing on loitering being a crime in so many places and wondering if a specific point in time where we went so wrong could be identified, thinking it was probably agriculture, looking up 'why' in unfamiliar languages, successfully failing at negating desire, daydreaming about tibet, daydreaming about mongolian horse raves, daydreaming about rave activities, doing more chores to ignore aforementioned daydreams, juxtaposing myself, wondering if I'll be able to tell between warning and potential finality, marvelling at the jester I see in the mirror, thinking about medieval cosplay, sitting on emotional decisions until it is revealed to me that they would have been the wrong ones, disowning before I'll be disowned, that-ing (2), glaring at the roots, gently stroking the roots, gnawing at the roots, parkour!, giving grace, being laughably bitter, identifying socially acceptable security blankets that are being hauled around the world, losing consecutive imaginary arguments for the sake of realism, fumbling with the gordian knot, relating to odysseus' pathological lying, fighting for my life over the most minute of script changes, addressing towel dispensers as if they are conscious beings and relating to their malfunctioning sensor that has them dispensing towels with no one requesting it, doing it after saying I can't do it anymore, conceptual self-mutilation, barking, tail-tucking, cowering, losing every idgaf war battle, ignoring messages of conversations I start, primate smiling, humming, being awful, accidentally brainwashing you into thinking I'm decent, rawdogging every emotion known to man every single day, asking God for help, asking God for help that He won't distort with His unhinged sense of humour, being very tactical about asking God for help, having a laugh with Him, cooing, failing my ancestors by having the lowest heat resistance my line has ever seen, being half naked, embarrassing you online, hoping that the heart bubbles floating around my head will make up for everything, loving you so extremely mundanely, telling people working full time jobs that I am tired, screening calls just to worry about someone potentially dying and calling right back, odysseus-ing, yearning for a dog, farming patience skill by dealing with malfunctioning soft/hardware without berating it, succumbing to the stigma(ta), resisting the urge to buy baby clothes, ignoring the nonsensical urge to wear baby clothes, simulating the wearing of baby clothes in semi-socially acceptable adultlike ways, having friends throw away my baby shoes, taking offence, honouring my feelings by calling them stupid, sighing, abusing my lungs, judging in others what I don't judge in myself and forgiving in others what I can't forgive in myself, delusion, this is fine-ing the horrors, overreacting internally while maintaining easter island statue integrity externally, accidentally mewing, being hopelessly addicted to cinnamon rolls, always double-checking the spelling of cinnamon, nosebleeding, taking my sweet time, stressing about taking my sweet time, loathing my achievements, practicing facial expressions, shift+alt-ing, holding back, pouring out, spilling out of my shell, duct-taping my cracked shell back together, shrimping, finding solace in domesticity, seriously thinking that that one girl was so right about me (being blasphemous), misinterpreting endearing drawings, comparing apricots to pomegranates, equating apricots to pomegranates, thinking pomegranate is the ugliest word that exists for pomegranates, falling asleep mid-serious conversations, being very ignorable, losing my mind for 10-12 hours a day, that-ing (3), getting for free what people in the uk are brawling over, laughing at english and french people, ><(((°>*<°)))><, thinking about you, wagging my invisible tail, waiting by the door, howling inside your door, thinking about how much I need a job while actively not doing anything about it, waiting for a job offer to knock on the door, thinking about you (2), smiling at nothing, huffing and puffing, overanalysing punctuation, laughing out loud in public out of nowhere cause ozzy swarm of bees meme, thinking that you should really look into the ozzy swarm of bees meme cause they carried him to the afterlife a day before you +1-ed and I was a good boy and didn't deathpost, definitely not being superstitious, not even being a little stitious, painting my nails just to file the colour off, getting a sore throat after ingesting too much dried nail polish, not giving a shit about seasonal colour-coding, looking at a blurry hot air balloon picture for so long that nothing feels real anymore, daydreaming about how they should invent frit for emotions, woofing, heart-reacting every daily post of the same photo of a gravel pile every day, refusing to start and not knowing when to stop once I have, acting in the ways of the pingu overlord, making you imaginary glitter heart cards, waiting for things to get out of hand before doing anything about anything, living out my childhood dream of never being intuitively understood by anyone ever in my entire life, irl shift+alt-ing around racists so I can make them uncomfortable, gaslighting myself into believing kefir will fix certain things, acknowledging that there is a distinction between a film and a youtube analysis of something random that have the exact same duration that affects my ability to commit but being unable to identify it, giving up on grammar halfway through sentences, meaning well but fumbling pronouns anyway, tracking the movements of a sus black window-tinted sedan in the neighbourhood for two weeks straight, remembering and listening to mj's 2000 watts whenever my disingenuity overwhelms me and coping by calling it customer service, acutely but recurringly regarding all of you as my customers, following the Word by accident (not mixing up fabrics), backtracking on travel plans so that you won't see we all have the same caudal fins, blaming concrete for everything, watching concrete getting mixed, constantly looking for | || || |_, wondering why, laughing at loser masters, pausing the listing of my hobbies so that I can lose my fervour for it, only ever making lists when they are not requested of me, drowning in remorse, apologising knowing I'll have to apologise again, loving you through everything, being a picky quitter, never giving you up but frequently letting you down, that-ing (4), parkour!, being despicable, stopping because the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the -

⁽ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵈᵒ ᵗᵒᵒ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵒⁿᵉ ᶜʰⁱᵉᶠ⁾ ⁽ᵈⁱᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱˢᵗᵉⁿᶜʸ ⁿᵒʷ?⁾ ⁽ˡᵒˢᵉʳ⁾ ⁽ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵒⁿᵉ⁾ ⁽ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡ ᵒ ˢ ˢ⁾ ⁽ʰᵉʰ⁾

paranoid - black sabbath

not now kitten, daddy's sunfishpilled survivalmaxxing sweaty, mommy's making memes farming conjuration skill

erabenimsun - liz katrin

p.s. oh no I don't think it says anything about you that your favourite fictional race is that of the grey mer supremacists who primarily make slaves out of the only race that will, in the future, manage to actually invade oblivion and scare mehrunes dagon shitless enough to abort and close the gates, just because 'they look dope and have cool raspy voices' and obviously I don't think the dunmer know exactly what they're doing going after the lizards - no, they're not terrified of the hist hive mind, definitely not the sun shines every day in hell, sera serjo, actually

patches & bugs (for a game that keeps crashing):

post while you're blue screening, touch grass, eat too much sugar (tricky), run on the walls, visit the wife (swim), listen to music in a moving vehicle, live your own truth when subtitles start morphing into linear a, say 'excuse me' to people blocking both lanes of escalators with a simultaneously polite and 'you're inconveniencing the entire fucking world rn, scum' tone, say 'I'm not here, this isn't happening', make love (not to be confused with its cousin, having sex), crawl into and hide in your foreskin shell, lick your lip and smile with your bottom teeth (aka acutely be an orc), wear something nice, wear the same thing you always wear, wear things until they nearly melt and then convert them into indoors clothing (don't throw anything away ever), wear button-ups (silly), wear button-ups (serious), wear jujube thorn collars, wear whatever tf you want, shower (preferably before you do the former), be cringe, live your clown truth too, get a brain freeze (risky), inhale minute amounts of antiseptic (riskier), make yours the problems of innocents, stop thinking about body language, head thrash until you're nauseous, hold a hand, crush a hand, listen to the moon instead of talking to it, appreciate the sun even in its violence, think about the homie mc JC uc, recognise your true father, carry out his desires, get lost mid-conversation cause you've randomly started thinking about the amount of sufi poets that were drunkards, be like khusrau: have the people talk about your idol worship, and do it, do it; do not need the world, return to the present, hurt them, accept your fate of vasalhood, destroy, attach the suffix -hood to any word that you feel can host it, avoid world news for a while, find the ever-present crocodile in the skies, appreciate france for 2001, stop it, take (and stubbornly gatekeep) pictures of dimples and the most random of unrelated details, be the eye of the beholder, consciously feel cotton sheets in your palm, do the same thing with skin, memorise, spend money carelessly, call it magic, call it truth, fuck it - listen to coldplay, nvm listen to charli xcx, whisper 'I'm not here, this isn't happening', loop the same song for x days straight, be a selective tartlet, have the word tartlet lose all meaning, ignore the voices, ignore the demons too, listen to them, support the (real) homies, hurt them, dance, cry-dance, smile-cry-dance, cosplay as a cicada, seek the cold, give your vishuddha some grace (scream), be quiet, seek the warmth, listen to your anahata, sabotage, draw, watch nature claim manmade, pet cats, pet dogs, be careful with ducks, consider fish, shrimp perhaps, call you sera, call you serjo, call you s'wit, call you whatever you feel like at any given moment, don't think about mirrors, think about mirrors, realise you're off-topic, return to the present, think about mirrors, breathe, suffocate, be (in love), be a hypocrite, bundle it up in packages, forget where you put them down, no don't go in there - ignore reddit - fucking ignore it, turn your phone off - okay silence it then, heed the unbiased, walk barefoot, sit on the floor, don't question suspicious vegetable/fruit saturation, eat so many orange jelly-filled soft cakes that you feel sick and don't even want to look at them again for however long, call it fasting, buy tampons just to cut them up with scissors and feel oddly satisfied at the freed cotton fluffing up between your fingers, fill your mouth with it, scratch phantom itches until you bleed (questionable), hurt you, kiss when you're so sleepy, bite, log, practice, misspell, defeat vegans (educate them), notice you have armpits, ignore the urge to get a full back tattoo of a seraphim, haggle, yawn loudly, fall asleep on couches, fall asleep on tables, ignore the urge to get a tattoo of a seraphim of any size on any part of your body, snicker, be a walking amalgam of stereotypes (thus be something unique), infect them, purr, yowl, feed pigeons, relate, refuse alcohol, fail to refuse popcorn, have a stomach ache but be so brave about it, npc-pose when you notice a camera on you, watch the owl watching you, pluck feathers, live your caveman truth too, beat at your chest, rhyme by accident, make innuendos by accident too, listen to a heart beat, set a billboard of your face on fire, fuck the ashes, lay your head on emotional support thighs, fill your lungs, empty them, repeat until you stop coughing, smoke away the progress, ship the half of a gay ahh best friends forever heart necklace overseas with no prior announcement, hurt them, accept (that you're a disorganised monkey), briefly forgive yourself, remember why you shouldn't, stop and stare, appreciate a red sign, stare, keep staring, analyse numbers, love numbers, love them in ways you can't put into words, rotate with the sun, love everything you love as such, love red, love ruby, love, forget to, love love, love lav, say 'lav yes', love lavash, say 'lav eli', if you have no choice but to speak do it softly, freeze them, tell an awful man to go fuck himself (exception), cut the kids in half, delay the reaping of what you've sown (unless you expect a good harvest), cry 'this goes beyond me, beyond you', settle, walk through doors (indefinite), seek the light, bump into streetlights, pause so you may ultimately stop, be a fugitive kind of dog, for the love of God please ignore reddit, put the collar on

party 4 u - charli xcx | daydreaming - radiohead

what's your name, moose encounter, are you lonely (too), apushner, different flavours, 22, [REDACTED], things no one would ever do for another, I told you so's, blatant insult, cold shoulders, hangers, thorns, prickles, lack of wings, lack of halos, angle or demon, hellfires, you can stay here forever, rabiz enforcement until rabiz normalisation, nigavan, pomegranate tossing, are you sub switch or dom, vay vay vay, hay em yes actually, ayo hay es du, akhper, unemployed 3 am texts, jan jan jan, fuck off, (legal) retard, 24 (magic), 365 (shnorhakalutyun), but you can't make a reformed manwhore a housewife, a bitch is a fav bitch but a dog is a man's best friend, they've got nothing on me, ackrite, they've got nothing on you either, drink the evidence and hide the dick behind your head, fucking bully, integral violence, pride (good), pride (bad), blood, have one of your own too, we have a pact, several, right here, arevakhach, purple eyes, im hreshtak, roadkill burials, bidirectional curses, halo hallucination, cadence, Idk he's sus on us, let's lean into it - shit's hilarious, lies, selfishness, selflessness, what's wrong with you, what's wrong with /you/, dumbass, earache, car crash(es), voskevaz wine, needles, misidentified carpet lint, on your knees, soldier, belts, allowances, my parents aren't home, 🏃♂, baby blue suit, orange orange suit, hey wanna hear the most annoying sound in the world, cover for me, cover for you, strict isn't mean, fuck you, trchun, church music slaps, did you get it, how much we have left, stop hitting me, fucking gorilla, bitch, be humble - sit down, look at us, look at /us/, pussy drip, chains (gold), chains (sinking), loyalty loyalty loyalty, we're not the same, he's baby keem dzkan ishkhany, top 5 rappers notorious big is afraid to diss, heart crown, you do exude a little christian swag, omg stfu, tweaker, washrooms, amazing, brother - pop off only on occasion, brother, what's for dinner, cheese, nephilimcore, that's why you don't get no pussy, suits, masks, two-handers, you support, I exalt, what's for lunch, cheese, squeak, yummy yummy poison, 13, fake mcfakerson, dire dire dire, it's fleeting, LED God, why, he was like wigga, you know why, I was like wigga, breathe, we was like wiggaaaa - swag, maybe I like looking like a clown in your shoes, please breathe, maybe fake's what I like, is that an order, control freak, don't boss me around, /I/ am akara, get a grip, take my hand, nice try, stag (1999), take it, horse taming, yukon, icebergcore, I'll find you in the next one, I'll try not to strangle you there, enormous crab, I'm not sulking, sure thing, fucking take it, lazarus, the horse of innumerable seconds chances, uriel, angels can't hate, liar, masochist, fuck you, they're yours now, shut up, I'm scared, it gets better, love is a verb, gay, love is a doing word, gayer, fearless on my breath, come with, get out, phone home, yours or mine, yours /is/ mine, I didn't learn to share but care, plastic shirts, psycho, bipolar, (white) trash behaviour, red giant to white dwarf communication, my crew is big and it keeps getting bigga, that's cause Jesus Christ is my [REDACTED], ephesians 4:32, it's really not that deep, ephesians 4:25, lies, der voghormia, ephesians 5:5, greed, der voghormia, ephesians 6:11, akhper, der voghormia, ephesians 6:17, akhper, der voghormia, ephesians 2:8, akhper, no more pride, der voghormia - He has, sugar mommy? that the secret third thing? anyway, don't fuck this up, here if you do though, right here, apush, 24/08/2024, shnorhakalutyun, arevakhach ong, habrban, dance, nerd - jane jan, I love you (too), wear it, now, ugly selfie or it didn't happen I swear to - aww (monotone), ayo, ass, forever? forever. loop, what's your name -

miss my ni - gmcfosho

06/09
by popular consensus I should be posting pics of scratches and bruises so I can get pity points from fellow (but differently flavoured) losers, but here, have this fever dream instead: there is this AI ad that keeps popping up on my instagram (I know it's AI, okay) and I keep scrolling past it, but I can never scroll fast enough not to hear the opening line that's something along the lines of 'have you never broken a bone in your life?', or something like that. anyway, I did watch it on mute once (because sometimes I enjoy subjecting myself to the horror of AI panic I guess) and they were asking other questions I don't remember still, but it ended on a note of, like, maybe you're like us, take this test to find out, so anyway, I looked up what having never broken a bone in your life supposedly entails on a spiritual level recently and honestly I'm convinced people will come up with anything just to make themselves feel special while they're going through it these days. even though, you know, I do believe God be looking out for me ("hypocrite," the crowd ejaculated) anyway, here is the author's deduction of shit I've written - for the purposes of coherency, I've added punctuation here and there:

03/09
and my lovely fake brother knew all along, he just didn't know that I am what he's always thought I am, just on speed, which is pretty fitting if you ask me cause I've always [this is where I namedropped a specific upper and briefly touched on my nuanced relationship with it]. and anyway, in true 'I would rather just assume shit and run with it rather than, say, get actual clarity' (lmao) fashion, I did some research and discovered that leaving thing a unchecked for long enough oftentimes leads to thing b, so yeah, my deepest toyota corollances, cause it's either erratic ape or sedated gibbon, and so you have to ask yourself at some point, [this is where I quoted shakespeare], and why is shakespeare so boring actually like omgggg - so anyway, [this is where I bitterly overshared on family trauma] and a general thank you to everyone else who participated and contributed but the 'mixed signals' submissions have been closed and from now on we will be pretending we do not see them and [this is where I indirectly revealed the state of my mental health] and there's truly no such thing as monogamy because we're all in an abusive relationship with the world that forces itself upon us and we can do nothing but sit there and take it until we [this is where I used the actual word for 'that' and dropped adjectives that are assigned to you when you do it] so here's my advice: [this is where I repeated the same phrase four or five times] cause they will do nothing but [this is where I climbed on the cross]. that's all. all of this applies to me too indeed. [this is where I climbed off of it and bid my bitter farewells] [this is where I quoted a tool lyric] [this is where I started talking about mirrors again] cause yeah, anyway, I was going to stroke my dick just now but yeah [this is where I decided against leaning into my martyrdom narrative] and [this is where I started talking to redditors for some reason?] like come on, who even gives a fuck anymore lmao and I didn't post my meme when I should have so I didn't get any of you anything, sorry, and how would you even know [this is where I overshared on my mental health again] lmao and, you know, all you need is to [this is where I quoted a kendrick lyric-slash-overshared sexually] and I have deep respect for the store employee that I asked if I could take a pic of this random ass, nightmare fuel product of and she said yes, let me do it before she pulled it out for me and suggested that I photograph the full thing (it was originally halfway obstructed by other products) (even though I ended up using the half-photo anyway cause the lighting is better on it) like that's my tribe fr fr

[this is where I conjugated the verb հաղթահարել]

on 03/09 I also made a list of some things one can't tell his priest

02/09
I have to be the fastest walking person in public transportation for some reason [this was turned into a prediction of the future meme later on]

29/08
fuck being nonchalant all my homies be losing their minds [this has yet to be turned into a meme]

27/08
fact: music globally peaked when low class people (I will not elaborate) got their hands on synthesisers
conspiracy theory: it's been labelled 'trash' music cause they don't want you experiencing true joy
moral lesson: depriving yourself of the absolute experience that is hayk ghevodyan's 1997 album cause you're afraid of being perceived as qyartu does nothing but permanently lower your morale and willpower stats (and, if applicable, probably makes you an ethnotard)
solution proposal: loop 'pesatsu' until your soul grows a monobrow

23/08
you know, if you see me scribbling on a notebook, you should really mind your business cause some things are between me and God. or me and people I could be talking to but don't because I don't know why. just because. definitely no rhyme or reason there. or between me and people I can't talk to but would like to be able to. people I miss probably. or me and people I don't miss, can't talk to, nor want to, except in these pages where I can just explain things concisely, reach actual points, form some sort of conclusion. me and people that 97% don't think about me anymore. me and people I only think about when I want to have a sit-down and talk about echoes for a while. people that agree with me. because I'm controlling them and I have free will turned off - do you know how fucking insufferable I would be if I had tangible power? my dreams are visions. and I'm awful in them yet you're still by my side. but would you be that if three unforgivable letters defined me better than your three letters? hey, at least we share that 'd', right? okay, yeah, I'll stop listening to reddit now - you're right. I love cotton. please just call me a slur and let's move on?

on 22/08 I predicted the future again (bad ending) asked myself a bunch of questions

on 19/08 I wrote a line that I told me in my dream and then I drafted the simplest good morning message for some reason (?)

16/08
and anyway I still either look both ways before crossing the street or put my ungrateful faith in selfish people disregarding the little green man when I decide to trust his law. besides I'm fine with a parasitic nature being the focal point, just give me some time to come to terms with the poor harvest I've reaped. see, if I had enormous fingers I'd wash this glass with soap and water too - as it stands, I'd rather frustration-huff about the spots blurring the view of either side than pretend to be cleaning it with dry cloth, honestly, or just sit there and look, tell myself the spots and the claw marks give it character. buck staring off into the sunset meme. you know the one. what are your love languages. mine are quality time and acts of service and the one I don't want to publically admit to, I think, plus locating a single loose thread and pulling on it until the whole thing comes apart and unravels the truth. [this is the first instance of me outwardly (as in, in my notes app) obsessing over what reddit's been diagnosing me with lately]. do you know my veins are greenish too? do you know I'm a hypocrite? do you know I'm ashamed? do you know I'm proud? do you know I exist in extremes and I'm either better than anyone who's ever lived or the worst scum the world's ever seen? do you know that I could potentially be a dictator? do you know I would not trust myself with power? do you know I'm scared of me? of who I could be if I wasn't violent only to me? do you know I scan supermarket shelves for products about to expire so I can save up a few cents? do you know I was an altar boy? do you know I use unrelated techniques I learnt in church to stroke my dick more efficiently? you know it's all about the wrist with most things? do you know I'm ashamed?

[this is where I ungratefully blamed my mother for all that is wrong with me]

2:31 [this was probably a timestamp of some song]

and anyway, if history suggests that I should be your vassal, why can't we just respect that?

02/08
I'm trying out this new challenge called 'past posting' where I am not on drugs but I attempt to replicate coding my words in such ways that doesn't reveal I am on drugs anyway but like it's pretty obvious at the same time too (or I think is obvious cause duh, obviously the river is addiction - everyone knows that) also hey, I drowned in my dream a few months ago and john the baptist resurrected me and my life went to absolute shit and nothing's been the same since. also when I say that something is revealed to me in my dreams you should take that seriously cause like I be seeing shit, also what do you think it means that two or three times a week I am awoken by an otherworldly voice getting louder and more distorted/violent as it repeatedly orders me to wake up until I actually wake up in unspecified urgency-borne panic, palpitating in ways that has me eyeing my backpack - asking for a friend even though I'm using the first person pronoun obviously cause I'm a decent friend now, you see, I don't like outing my buddies even though they treat me like I don't exist most of the time

on 28/07 I overshared on childhood trauma

23/07
'puppet' not hitting hard enough anymore? try our new and improved formula in '24hour dog'

[...]

[this is where I was yapping about viruses and lowkey-highkey using them as analogies to my parasitic presence/nature]

[this is where I was yapping about WW3 and overshared talked about how I would deal with surviving in a post apocalyptic setting]

[this where I unrelatedly started yapping about classical music and how it inevitably leads to the love of metal (again)]

[this is where I bore so deep into me that I hurt myself ruined my own mood] so in a nutshell: when you raise a slug as a snail it will always look to crawl into a shell, even if the shell is sure to suffocate and kill it (snailpilled ghostmaxxing) [this is the only thing that survived]

[this is where I started thinking about st barsegh musing on idol worship and how we all do it]

[this is where I gave up felt embarrassed and chose silence (again)]

nebelwand - omega massif

p.s. [this is where I would yap about the absolute ingenuity of using clackers as a musical instrument and a whole array of related notes that matter to no one but me]

I don't think I think about light pollution nearly as much as I should. maybe during the changing of seasons, when the day seems to grow shorter unnaturally rapidly, and the street lights are still getting used to the fresh but expected heavy workload of winter; they oversleep sometimes, and you can walk normally disgustingly well-lit alleys in relative darkness. or during massive power outs that last more than two minutes at a time. or when you drive in the countryside and you get to see nothing but silhouettes of mountains on the horizon. nothing but moon reflecting sun, and you think, oh, right. right, this is how it was always meant to be. but the sleepy street lights will wake up sooner than you'd like them to. and these power grids have safety valves upon safety valves upon safety valves. and you'll soon be distracted by the high beam and look away from nature's craft. subtle poetry. and then you'll forget about light pollution all over again. but the melancholy will stay. when you, under (hopefully yellow) artificial lighting, try to feel for it, it'll slip away from you, over and over again, and you'll ask yourself, what? what is it now, y/c? what are you sad about again, what's the matter this time? because you, parrot, learned their words so well they now feel like they've been yours all along. and it's worked wonders for you so far, hasn't it? identifying with their opinions of you? letting them dictate what you are or aren't to feel, how you're allowed to feel it? that's right. keep it up, plato's man

___

do you dislike it when they change the branding of your faux cigarettes? the colours of the packaging? feels like only yesterday it was this comforting shade of copper red, because it was, and now it's washed out, and grey, and the yellowish gold trim looks like the kind of tackiness people who pretend to be rich favour (you would know the sort, y/c), and the new logo looks cultish. so, reject modernity and embrace tradition instead of like, you know, just shoving the pack in your bag and not looking at it until the acceptance comes in small, digestible glimpses of it. go for traditional and disregard your lungs again (they're used to it, after all), favour that packaging they haven't changed in God knows how long - it was already changed when you recalled it, so that's tradition, isn't it? like habits, right? and routines. and feelings. and vibrational frequencies. cycles. and track the sun. track it like your life depends on it, like you can somehow affect the effects of its anger, the way you'll feel them, like you can stop your heart from palpitating in stillness, the palpable electricity pulsing through your limbs. track it, y/c. cling to your sense of control until your knuckles grow white, your muscles give - shatter when your insignificance insists upon itself. but hey, feels good to add foresight to your human superpowers by simply tracking charts, numbers, doesn't it? even if it's like exclusive to earthquakes. you have to admit I did call it (I'm sorry, japan)

___

not in the sense of being the jester. I take myself much too seriously to ever be that. and I've met real jesters, too; I could never crumble myself to that degree just to get a laugh out of someone. I could never revel in perceived ridiculousness like that, at least no more than a handful of minutes at a time. fleetingly, when I exit myself, once in a blue moon. but you know sonder is short-lived, and we all return to the palaces of our individual minds sooner rather than later. it's not natural or easy for all of us, you know, interconnectedness. but I digress. it's more in the sense of the trickster having followed me throughout my entire life, and all the above should be a cue as to why, I believe. but I've spoken of this before, and I've thought about it to the point of exhaustion, and so I'll refrain from repeating myself, senile old man as I may be. it's a long, long way to the bottom, you know. and I am blessed, don't get me wrong, but humility, if not a true constant, will be enforced upon the prideful in ways most violent. it aches, you should know, for swine that's learned to find pride even in the ways it rolls in the mud to awaken to its own squalor. but as above, so below, and God made me in His image, after all. God is a fractal, endlessly repeating Itself, infinite. some people say God is the trickster but you shouldn't listen to those people. you should never listen to the nihilists, you know that? don't do that to yourself. go out and sit under the trees, lie by a stream or on the sand of whichever beach; if you listen to His creation, He'll talk to you through it. I promise. don't ever listen to the nihilists

___

you know, when you sleep at someone's place for the very first time, everything feels a bit peculiar. dichotomised. I don't know if this is a universal experience; I don't think I've ever talked about it with anyone for fear of it being misconstrued. but it's liminal, somehow, I feel. and much varies on whose house you're sleeping in - or not much, actually; the only difference is whether nostalgia or melancholy will hit you, and whether you'll be able to tell between those two or not. it's vulnerable for some reason. and sometimes you get this inexplicable urge to masturbate. but the first time I slept in this bed, I felt a little stupid for it. you know, as one does when they're not sleeping in their own. extra heightened when they've audaciously invited themselves over for the night. with no intent to sin. anyway. scents you're not surrounded by, that you're not used to falling asleep, waking up to. clean and cosy covers, and the knowledge of you feeling comfy at the expense of whoever you've discommoded by occupying that particular space - you're still comfy, and there's warmth, and it's a lot of warmth, and so, for some reason, you are quietly overwhelmed. and you feel like you want to cry, but you haven't yet prayed to God for release, so you feel very assured in your dryness, indeed. it's hard to fall asleep then. not because the batteries are still in that clock either. rather, maybe you don't want to fall asleep yet. not too soon. because it is, indeed, liminal, and you think this may be a unique moment - this may never happen again. in this bed. within this room. with these surrounding scents. with the memories of this specific day floating around in your palace, and this lingering aftertaste on your tongue. this particular percentage of comfort and discomfort coexisting - the comfort outweighed, and so, if you must know, and you must, indeed, know, it was nostalgia. and I don't care to get into my explanations and my theories as to why, my entire life, I've been prone to feeling nostalgia over things I've yet to experience, not right now, so you must accept it as is, and know that I missed our bed the very first time I lied in it. even when the pronoun was different. singular. and you know, why wouldn't I think that it'd be a unique experience? how could I, in any conceivable fashion, imagine even a fraction of all that was to, all that's transpired? how could I ever fathom an 'our' that stretches beyond us, even, into the future, where it circles back again, touches upon the past like a rock skipping over a lake, ties back into the present? the now? how could I know I could ever be so immensely blessed? as above, so below, im arev. it felt so warm, I wanted to cry. knowing it'd end. and you know it still does at times? knowing it won't? there is so much more I could say. but alas, (I am a nerd) I have already prayed to God, and He has given (just this actually: very, very proud of you for learning the technique of not burning your mouth with potato dog by now)

___

[...]

bitch face reveal!!1!1!!!

your puny minds couldn't fathom the sheer volume of psychotic rambling I've spared all of you from. you are, indeed, welcome 💅

I am an orangutan and I have hair in all the right places go like ooh-ooh-ah-ah (that's not how orangutans go but I have to remain couth here) every five days or so [this is where I aggressively beat at my chest]

territory - the blaze

p.s. if youtube could stop tapping into my actual memories to recommend shit to me, that'd be nice - լավ, մերսի շատ 🧡

yeah, I know you told me to take care of it, but I didn't, so, this is what we have now, and there's narrative and shit, there are recurring colour palettes to respect. and consider. plus, accessories. and strategies. and mirrors. and you know I like dancing. and when kevin said, 'there's a party in my head and no one is invited' I felt that, even if the party is track 7 of 'mesmerize' - and when mike patton said 'it's not funny, my ass is on fire' I felt that too, ngl, and when trent said anything he's ever said I had a little laugh about it cause, yeah. right? and, and he looked at me in disgusting ways, too, he took me and made me, and still I trusted - you must know this now. hey, at least you split your odds, right? և Երկրորդ Օրէնք 32:35. and, and I bet my boy, serj, would be proud to know that 'we don't need to multiply' was looping in my head while I was [REDACTED (4)] - hey, hey, in my defence, you don't just let demons allude to desecrating the chosen one, okay? and, and, and banana, banana, banana, banana, terracotta, banana, terracotta, terracotta pie — at the very least, you can't say I haven't been practicing self-restraint these days. because, you know, maybe the real growth was all the concerning writing we shelved along the way. but anyway. you win some, you lose some, and, at the end of the day, everyone knows superpowers are stored in the [REDACTED (1)] - my apologies, most uncouth. you wouldn't know to know me now. but yeah, it's fun until it's not, here, and that shouldn't concern you - you can stop coming around now. leave your blood alone. all the branches have made their choices, root, and your root did too, once. you knew this. and I know of the recession of genes. chtespilled barabmaxxing, I'm afraid. [REDACTED (46)]

[REDACTED (32)]

haha jk... unless..? 👀

tzt-tzt

this is a psa: heaven and hell are real, and they exist on this realm, and they overlap. it's called the washroom, dumbass (iykyk) (it was the jolliest of times) (it was the most mortifying of times) hey, you know, I got that public wc rizz, wherein you will find me in a stall either fighting for my life or loudly professing my undying love in the ways of my cavemen ancestors (iykyk)

into the void - nin 💃 BANANA BANANA BANANA BANANA TERRACOTTA BANANA TERRACOTTA TERRACOTTA PIE 💃

imagine hating on me and I am just [REDACTED] am just in the attic doing the millennial mirror selfie thing in 2k26 am just [REDACTED] just feel like lucas kane every time I put a cap on

(spins random notes app entry wheel)

[insert clothespin application bitching]

my nare nare - norayr kartashyan

(01/01) (...) like that one time I rejected that carolling kid. and, you know, I wasn't rude or anything, but I was expecting someone else. and that someone else had announced that he would be popping up very last minute, and he sounded mad on the phone, and I've always pretended not to be afraid of him - anyway, my point is that I was already stressed cause I had slacked, and now I was pressed for time. and said kid rung the doorbell twice, sort of impatiently, and everyone knows the sound of (the) doorbell(s) makes me want to voluntarily pop my own eardrums, so I suppose he could tell I was.. distressed? anyway, again, I wasn't rude; I apologised and told him I was working - working, counting money, potato, potahto - and, you know, I've lost a lot of my memories but I recall, crystal clear, the look on his face; the tiny widening of his eyes - they were very blue, I remember - or grey, maybe twilight was playing around - like surprised more than anything; he didn't look upset about it, but he apologised, and I said thank you for some reason. then I closed the door and returned to the couch. now, I had been in a) my dry era for 26 or 27 something years by then, and b) my numb era for at least 10 years, so I really couldn't understand what was happening then. logic kicked in the moment I sat down; like I had my share right there, I could have told him to wait for two seconds, gotten ten bucks and handed them over to him - which, granted, is a lot of money for carolling, but it was getting dark and he was still out, which probably meant he hadn't had very many people be generous to him that eve - carolling isn't really much of a thing in vancouver, but whatever kids or groups are inclined to it know the orthodox(ish) are into it. and, you know, I was just one of the non-generous now. and he apologised to me and I said thank you? who does that? anyway, long story slightly less long, I could barely see what I was counting from then on, and the one I'm no longer pretending to not be afraid of was entirely unconvinced when I lied about having not been crying when he showed up - but I suppose he also couldn't be bothered with his faux loving mask in the moment and that suited me just fine. he left. all the stress was for nought, too, cause he only stayed for like two minutes. and then we went on to pretend we hadn't seen each other prior a few hours later, we had a lovely family dinner. and I braved through early withdrawal so I could shoot as soon as the obligation was over and done with and get that kid's eyes out of my mind. I remembered him yesterday and I cried again cause now I understand what was happening then. I hope he doesn't remember me

—

(02/01) you know, there were so many things I wanted to write and post about over these past couple of months. how pointless I think colour-coded posts are after the latest mewe update(s) - they have taken everything from me and we still don't have pink. the end of my student era after 12 (or 24, if you will) years. lowkey how hot I think I looked in my fit. how hot my man looked in his fit, and how frustrating it was that I couldn't show him off to everyone. how claustrophobic the closet feels now. and our anniversary. cause it's been exactly 13 months now and you wouldn't know about that cause we meant to post about it but we can't be normal about anything, I guess. lowkey I love that about us. the snow, and the lights, and the warmth of our palms when joint, and seafood by a fjord, and lake chadburn, the moose of the whitehorse trip past, and our rental car, and my non-rental car - I wanted to write about him too cause I felt like he was my only friend for a while last year. and I have periodically felt that about him over those. least I can do is change his oils frequently, you know? my rebirthday. cupcakes and cinnamon rolls. the speed with which sobriety stripped me of my fashion sense. how that's more than likely an effect of the sobering (haha, get it?) realisation that I haven't the faintest clue on who I am. jivatman. puscifer's 'thirteenth step' and how it always makes me think of my faux sponsor cause he was severely disappointed in me when I stopped showing up in rehab. he was proud of me when I saw him last month though. and he once again had to be the harbinger of bad news - how I've chosen a patch of earth that will consistently perpetuate my shame; the system doesn't know grace for people like me here, you know. and it's whatever. what possessed me to throw away the sobriety chip approximately twenty minutes after it was handed to me. the illuminati. all the hello's I've said to various rugs' topographies. how in my avid neglect of the shrinking in my head and, therefore, profound lack of sense I, at the very least, still had enough of it not to take her home with me, all dressed in white. how I was waiting on fate, you see. a very detailed analysis on how one is to get (back) into drugs and safely (lmao) build up to intravenous use. getting smaller. my brother's remarkable ability of irritating me in a matter of seconds. what the washroom means to us. the heavens we've hallucinated. the slaps. he saved my life. I saved his life. how I really can't make amends with the dead. how the waking of them sometimes brings both relief and dread, freshly married and holding hands. the effect that maynard's judgement has always had on me. my grandfather, and how he was the only one - how he can have no rest because of me and the one I am afraid of. atman. the boy he saved so long ago. his children, and their superior understanding of minecraft. their related mentoring (of which I remember nothing). the boy who turned into a man of his word, and the promise he made. he saved my life. my goddaughter, and how I, utilising my superpower of hindsight, think she really shouldn't have ever been that. how beautiful she is. the way she says my name. her laughter. our forever bubble. she saved my life. my aunt stealing the show with her orange suit. how bad I felt for having been mildly jealous after she told me that she chose it so I could relax whenever I looked over. her stubborn hand-holding. she saved my life. abandonment. as a giver. as a receiver. the fact that my mother stopped dyeing her hair and soon we'll be matchy-matchy. the overwhelming gratitude I feel for her - and the tiny bit of fear related to her supernatural levels of perception I always have; crazy, the extent of the effect that preconceived notions about a person can have on that, isn't it? john 9:25. her understanding of john 15:12 and my lack thereof. she saved my life. flowers and my waning empathy for them. the related warmth of giving and receiving them within my new nuclear family - we love them even if they don't exist in the flesh yet, for they are stars in the now, and he knows I loved him when I only existed in my celestial form, too. and he loved me whenever he looked up at me. he saved my life. they saved my life. and I suppose I love myself whenever I look up at me, too. I saved my life. water, snow and ice. elements, and the ever-changing state of matter. niagara falls, and the jurisdictional hell that comes with being swept away and dying in them. how I really should have taken my vanity into account when I would daydream about faux faulty valves - ain't no way I wouldn't have returned to haunt the earth if I looked like that in a coffin. yikes. that 'yikes' I dreamt of and how deeply it stung. and that fucking foot. why me? and why has the holy spirit yet to reveal its significance to me? or why have I not yet been open to it? whatever. [...]

the sun shines every day in hell, muthsera. hlaalu samvel avalgyanil, reporting live from vvardenfell: the red mountain is feeling crazy and adventurous - that's the reason that it's so special!

in other news: they say the water's different, but it all tastes the same.

horses to water - joji

time to win some awards

so I'll sing this song instead

teeth. big teeth. good for apple eating teeth. good for finger chewing teeth. bow. curved bow. triangle corners. warm. contrast. cold north. blue isn't green. green isn't brown. northern landscape. these trees can withstand the cold. snow. too much ice will burn them. these trees are cold. they were cold. they are cold. enwarmed. these trees are warm. these trees look down on ice. stretching branches. too far. sun-stretching branches. too far. interweaving branches. self-suffocating branches. there is a trunk where critters find warmth, dark, untouched by ice, sun, wind. seabed simulation. beckoning womb. beckoning seedhood. violent burst. violent growth. fertile soil. fire. barren soil. these trees are burnt. these trees don't grow. these trees snap in half and fall on breathing trees. mould. engulfing ice. protecting ice. surrounding ice. calendar pages melt ice caps. spores. transmission. infection. calendar pages usher. snowstorm. fog. womb simulation. beckoning dry ice. resting spores. dormant trees. there is a trunk untouched by ice, sun, wind. trapped critters. dna helix simulation. mouldy virus. shuffle. nucleic tetris. embedded warp. star. bright star. hungry star. hydrogen deficient. starving star. helium deficient. pressure gap. african ebony. heavy star. burning ebony. collapse. cosmic vomit. singularity. philosopher's stone. everything is nothing.

teeth. my teeth. your teeth. our teeth.

yalla, yalla, learn 'yalla', vorti, giggle when 'yalla' because we're not yalla people but we can speak some it, right - forget about 'siktir'. forget anatolia, we are of the east-east now and so we must speak proper east-east-east-east - that's what he wanted and so say 'ararat' when they ask, and pull up a map and show 'here, not here', that's in anatolia, but you can see it from your window from the east-east and it is half-obscured by your apricot tree - are you hungry? no, this one, not that one - do you want ice cream? no, just for you - you don't have to share everything. well, he's not the sharpest tool in the shed, you know. why be a sky rat when you can be an eagle? I am the way and the truth and the light - don't you feel safe? follow me. good boy. smart boy. polite, malleable boy - inappropriate boy. good boy. choose small. a smile goes a long way with family businesses, and yours is lovely. look at you, bright boy. go get us a discount now. good boy. a man's nature is to cheat - why should I feel bad for it? a man's job is to provide - what is 'cost'? amot eh. amot eh, boy - aren't you aware of the closet's sanctity? your weapons, and you dick, and your skeletons, your sin - man invented the door out of fear of man's judgement, not God's. if you must, do it amongst your flock. what is 'twenty-one'? what separates us are our actions - show me your hand. good boy. stable boy - here, have a drink. what is 'seven'? what are you on? well, you better sober up from 'nothing' before the hawk sees you - here, have a drink - I'll cover for you, but you'll get help, ha? ha? good boy, sleepy boy. here, enjoy it while you still fit, take it before you're cold and rigid and the work is done - you feel safe, don't you? you like this song, don't you? you are the salt of the earth - don't be afraid, this is how we commune here. and Jesus was the snake, did you know? bad is good. good is all there is - did you know, scared boy? but of course we can leave. you like colours, don't you? you like the rainbow, don't you? here, hold this star for me - beautiful, ha? this means power for women - you like maya angelou, don't you? you like jewellery, don't you? here, keep this ring for me - it's yours now. what? why? why don't you want it? what is the reason? no, there is always a reason so tell me what it is. what is the reason? tell me the reason and I will accept it whether I agree with it or not - just tell me it. what is the reason, strange boy? you like colours, don't you? what is the reason? you like the stars, don't you? gold? what is the reason? you like roleplay, don't you? here, take those silly vestments off, put the staff down, watch this little skit - we only need suits, and goodwill, and closets here - we only need one another here. what? what do you mean you don't want it? why not? what is the reason? well, anyway, hold this closet for me, sleepy boy. good boy. united against the wolf, ha? ha, but they get a cut so - united against the poachers, ha? ha, good boy, sleepy boy. avagyannery. hayastan. Asdvadz. God loves you but weeping 'der voghormia' forty times in a row one day a year isn't a part of salvation, you know. here, take this book. no, this one, not that one. together, vorti - you're coming next month, right? eighteen was twenty-one was sixteen was nothing - time to leave fantasy land and join us in the real world. show me your hand. good boy, stable boy - higher if far, lower if near, but always aim and you may not need to press. the best I've ever seen. really. ha, good boy, gullible boy. promise me you'll never get always be numb, you're too precious. there's only you now. good boy, amnesiac boy - the biggest fish out here. and I would never hurt you, you know that, don't you? seres kez gou dam, ha, I have one of those. hold it for me, will you? it's yours now. your voice will be my voice until you're free. here, have this shirt - you like this shirt, don't you? it's yours now. your hands will be my hands until you're free. good boy, pretty boy - you live on the west side, you ought to be louder. louder, louder - I didn't know you could cry, hah. well, anyway, where's the money? good boy. here, keep this. you would never hurt me, ha? ha, good boy, maggot boy. come pray next month.

___

maybe you lost the genetic lottery. maybe cilantro is soap and you can't blur your vision at will. maybe you won the genetic lottery. maybe your sweat doesn't smell and you don't have to concern yourself with the layering of ply. maybe you lost the genetic lottery. maybe you don't have a single asset to your name and you will live the rest of your life paycheck to paycheck. maybe you won the genetic lottery. maybe you turn on the news and don't shake like a leaf at the mere prospect. maybe you lost. maybe you're nothing. maybe you won. maybe you're something. maybe you lost. maybe you're something. maybe you won. maybe you can be nothing.

dumb. dumb. dumb. stone to death.

wouldn't you? I would. sin or no sin - come on, lucky one, blur your vision and look again. they do fit, do you see? apologies for the silence. there is far too much scatter. far too many distractions and someone has to do this - entirely selfish this time around, you see. they are coming back in tsunami waves that carry away all that stands in their path, they thrash bodies against debris and crack skin, break muscle down - don't ask them to talk of it, conduits of saltwater and mud now, vomit, vomit, vomit - do you see now that they fit? you don't even have to remember having watched them fall apart. maybe you will. with new waves, and fresh thrashing, and more bloated, blue skin - do you know you are immortal? your life essence really is invincible, and I know you don't want it so but it is so - do you see how they fit? further in the frame, the pieces haven't been placed yet, but if you blur your vision - squint, if you lost the lottery - and if you have the slightest bit of imagination, with whatever is left of your touch with the real world, you can fill in the blanks. it makes the piecing easier. what? gluttonous and deviant? no, but it doesn't matter what the picture is, you have to finish it. you can't leave the puzzle unfinished, what are you talking about it? why would you do that? how can you do that? no. salacious and insatiable? no, no, no, we've started it now, we finish it. come back, motherfucker - did you fuck your mother - I thought it was boredom all along. can you believe it? yes, you can. come back, we have to finish what you started. and I've made a promise; don't make me the one to do it. come, let's play satan and demons. for old time's sake.

dumb. dumb. dumb. stone to death.

new mahogany because the gremlin is unruly and the hagraven's hexes eventually lost their effect. or lingered long enough to transmute it into something fierce. something finger-pointing-worthy. new paint because the sun shines every day in hell, and it eats at colour. it eats and eats, and you need those vibrants. you need those fabrics. you need those fake plastic flowers scattered about. new vases for those. you need your yard trees and your music to cover up the sound of the hearts beating beneath your floorboards. you need your incense to obscure the stench. new china every few years because we are a festive people, we have the most stable of hands and when we break something, we mean to. and do we mean to. do you mean to, smiley glad-hand. a new ride because you're getting with the times. remember the lada niva? I remember it. remember his sunny? I remember it. we had to scrap it, and I cried. remember the taste of my tears when we had to scrap him? they all taste the same. new jewellery because there's no such thing as too much gold. new shirts because the gremlin never liked your button-ups as much as the puppy did, and we are a generous people. new marble to reflect you. new ceiling to conceal you. new steel to keep you safe. new safe for your ongoing midas roleplay - philosopher's stone, you - everything you touch you turn to nothing. 2k midas. new passport because we need those. we need our secrets. we need our silence, our space. new closet because the last one collapsed under its own weight. did I ever call it home? do you remember? shed your light, safe one. enlighten me one last time. but not the chandeliers, no, those are antiques - 16th century french rock crystal - a conversation piece, ha, I know. remember when the gremlin broke a tear and the hagraven ruined our lovely reunion? I remember. remember the countless reunions she ruined? I remember most. they all tasted the same. and not the rugs, surely, not those. your mother weaved them. and you loved your mother, didn't you? you couldn't disregard ephesians 6:1-3, could you? even when they ruined your plans, you couldn't, could you? even though he held my hand down every time I'd reach for brown, you couldn't, could you? how fortunate for you, the puppy's lack of wit. still, not touching brown. new dog, though, I forgot, because you had the previous one all but perish under the weight of your hand. this one's stronger. new wolves to do the howling for you. but not the chair, no. not the red bergère. because it was your undoing, did you know? just before you anointed your puppy, do you remember? gravity doesn't lie. and you would think that the strings attached to the gremlin's palms would have been noticed with how closely it's been monitored, but how fortunate for you, the puppy's poor eyesight. its designed disorientation. still. the bergère. it has always been there. and john 9:25. remember I will always love you as I claw your fucking throat away, hayr-jan.

dumb. dumb. dumb. stone to death.
seven. thousand. fucking. pigeons! eat this man!

hand. retracting fingers. curling fingers. overlapping thumb. fist to chest. beat. fist to chest. beat. curling black buttons, twitching lips. pressing tongue, bloating philtrum. nose huff. nose huff. primate smile. bent knees still bent, less bent, crescent moon spreads, reveals itself, fist to chest, beat, beat, beat, beat, primate scream - you laugh. you run away, and the gorilla chases after you. barev. awkward knees. barev, little bear. you take refuge behind the couch, peek your head behind it and watch. barev, excited little bear - crouch, arms hang, swing this way, that. fist to chest. lazy beat. itch. itch. the gorilla scratches at its head, locates the source, snacks - you laugh, loud, and I break character; huff - it sounds the same - smile - it reaches the eyes - tongue to philtrum, I am gone. black buttons widen as the gorilla climbs on the couch, stretches an arm out, and you scream, something between enthusiasm and real fear, and when you run away the primate chases you, and chases you, and you laugh, and you scream, and that is your life, little bear, that is our life in these eggshell white walls, and in this simulation I bring you both because I love you, I bring you both so you will know, and you know, you know already - you scream because you scream and you laugh under the same breath, little bear, I bring you both so you may laugh while screaming, I bring you both because I love you --- the leopard roars, and you stop laughing, but I hold the simulation in my palm for you - you run to me, and the gorilla embraces you, instead, it lifts you off the ground and you shove your face in a chestful of black hair - the gorilla doesn't fear the leopard. huff. huff. primate smile. the gorilla doesn't know the tongue of the leopard, only its threat. bared teeth sustained - come close, and I will mangle you. come close, and you will regret it, spotted one. you leave my bear alone. huff. you leave my bear alone. huff. the leopard leaves my bear alone. the gorilla turns around and walks away. awkward knees, and - oh, look here, there's our matron; her lip twitches at our sight. look here, there's our sister; she's rolling her eyes at us. look here, they are using strange sounds with us, and we do not know numbers, we do not know what is proper and improper - look here, there's our tree. I climb on it, and you stay on me. I clean the itchy out of your hair, and you giggle. I hold the simulation for you because I love you. barev, little bear. I hold you because I love you. barev, barev. I hold you because you're precious - oh, oh, look, here's our patron. here's our patron that loves us, protects us. here he is, wide and formidable, yes, little bear, go, go on and run to him. some do magic and some do harm, little one - I drop the simulation because you do not need it now. I drop the simulation because I do not need it now, either. here is our patron, strong and protective. go on and run to him, precious bear. safe.

this is necessary. this is necessary. life feeds on life feeds on life feeds on life feeds on -

she paints. she paints in two colours. she paints in time-shifting colours. black and blue always turn into yellow. yellow doesn't suit you, you got her ash. he paints. he paints in vibrants and white. he paints in rotting colours. moisture always turns into black and green. mould doesn't suit you, soft thing. and I am so sorry, little bear. there is so much to be afraid of.

this is necessary. this is necessary. life feeds on life feeds on life feeds on life -

hand. retracting fingers. curling fingers. overlapping thumb. fist to face. beat. you paint in their colours now, time-shifting and rotting. fist to face. beat. you have the leopard's eyes now, crazed and feral. our blood is tainted, further tainted, further further tainted - I wake, and you scare me. woof. you don't scare your favourite canvas. fist to face. beat. you're still painted in their colours. you both scared me. wild things. woof. neither of you know care to know the sounds of the docile, the tamed, they are no threat - beat, woof, beat, woof, beat, woof - you bear your teeth now, bear, you spit as you roar, and you spit, and you spit, and you stretch daunting claws and maul all that gets too close - I get too close, I walk into crossfire. paint me in your colours, I have found new purpose. I have rediscovered old purpose, bear - you need no gorilla now. you, spotted one, you narrow and measly one, you broken, reassembled one - what is left of you but their colours, bear? leave my antling alone. huff. I am scared of you. leave my antling alone. huff. I am scared of you. leave the bear alone, antling - don't provoke it. huff. I am scared, please don't draw steel. I am scared, please don't draw blood. I am scared, please don't --- there, there, calm. now, isn't it so much better when we all get along? there, there, you look harmless when you sleep. hard to believe. picture, snap. future laughter purposes. invincible bear. tornado threat. invincible puppy. whirlpool threat. vein, snap. there, there, bandaid - might we sleep? I've been up so long. might you be the one to keep watch? I've been up so long. and I trust you - you know my dying voice, and there is a limit to your harm, ha? ha, we are the salt of the earth, bear. we are the future - never mind the fog, keep me here so I can keep you here, ha? ha, I would never hurt you. not outside my mind. huff. I am scared of you. keep me here, ha? I'll keep you here.

this is necessary. this is necessary. life feeds on life feeds on life feeds on life feeds on -

look here, I am, allegedly, hotter than you, and I love the way your pretty moon eyes snap to your favourite canvas every single time - I mean, you know this, don't you? ayo, little bear, decomposing hazel and everything. come, come, children, prof's gonna take you out for your first drink - juice grenadine - come, come, little bear, prof's gonna show you how to bag without spending a dime, negative rizz, prof's gonna prove you ain't shit without your money and your spells, ha? ha, pathetic solicitor - come, little creature, let's keep our hair long. you keep your beard trimmed short, and I'll keep shaving mine, and we'll never, ever have to look like --- yeah, yeah, in the kitchen with the women, I know - make sure to take the toothpicks out of those peppers, ha? too lazy to go our for skewers, and I wouldn't want you choking, now, would I? no, if I wanted you dead, I wouldn't have said a word, ha? ha, eat your food and shut up now. big otter with a gun - lavender for you, too, if you must? hah. look here, I am, evidently, smarter than you, and I hate the way your pretty moon eyes snap to the ground every single time I am entrusted with your birthright - I mean, we know this, don't we? I am better with numbers. I am better with the devil's tongue, and you know my resting bitch face is a thing of the past whenever my teeth are bared - ayo, little bear, you know I've weaponised this alpine smile. you know I know to crease the skin by my eyes, see, I am good with chemistry - you know I know to melt them - hell, teddy bear, you know I could wave my pinky finger and be a far superior minion to you. wild thing, fist to chest, beat, soldier's dna. forsworn, the carpathians aren't nearly as tall as the alps, fist to chest, beat, soldier's dna. ursus, the alps aren't as tall as the caucasus, fist to chest, beat, soldier's dna - fuck helixes and inheritance, little buddy, we are made wiggas. you crawl back to your coven now, would-be briarheart; only the devil rewrites his own story. and, excuse me, might you have a moment to talk about our patron saint, kendrick lamar?

this is necessary. this is necessary. life feeds on life feeds on life feeds on life -

[...]

I am normal. I don't talk, but I understand - trees don't talk but you don't consider them abnormal, do you? maybe I'm a tree. I grow roots. and my roots stretch out to other roots and create secret handshakes with them, and that's how I talk. those are my sounds. and you not liking them doesn't make them not my sounds. they will always be my sounds. I am normal. I have intuitive knowledge - God gave me it so I can know how to walk. I don't have to think about walking, I just do it. and I didn't have to cross deserts, so, I like walking, too. and I know that when creams don't work, and when ice doesn't work, and when duct tape doesn't work, something has to be removed from the root. and since my normal is not your normal, I know I'll have to wait for you to go to bed, and I know I'll have to sneak to the kitchen, and I know I'll have to hide behind the counter to enact my surgery. we tried your way, and it wasn't normal, because it didn't go away - see, it migrated even - and mine may ache, but it's the normal one, so I will wait for you to sleep before I dig, and dig, and bleed, and bleed - no, no, I know I'm not supposed to be playing with knives - I'm not playing, see? see, it's gone now. see, no more - why are you shouting, see, it's out now, I took it out. I took it out, I took it out, I took it out - just a little pin prick, there'll be no more AAAAAAH, but you may feel a little sick - see, nice and cold now. seed wart, buddy? no, I'm just bored. what are you trying to freeze? seed wart, buddy? no, I'm just privileged and bored. what needs numbing, polite boy? miss the dove? no, I'm just privileged and bored and everyone knows I'm not normal, and I want to be normal, I want to be like them. duct tape? what are you trying to patch up, boy? nothing, nothing, shovel, shovel - what are you burying, pretty boy? nothing, I'm just digging, nothing, I'm just digging, me, my bed - chair? nothing, shut up, I have found a new womb. calm, quiet - what about the seed wart, aghavni? it's still there, you know. it's okay, I forgot. I crawl into the womb, and each slumber takes one away. who am I? who cares. sleep.

seed wart, buddy. awaken.

I am normal. I don't talk, but I draw - I draw very many animals, because I don't feel human most of the time, and the animals know how the world works, the animals can handle it. God gave them intuitive knowledge, so they can know how to run. what to run from. I don't have to think about running, I just do it. and I had to run through hell, I don't like running, and I don't have the lungs for it, I don't have the heart for it, but I still do it because I have to. I would rather stand my ground, you know. I have my borrowed skin, still, and I would like to sink my borrowed teeth into a carotid and chew like I was chewed upon until the blood dries in my mouth, but that's my borrowed skin talking, you see. the devil taught me some of his ways; they are enticing, I won't lie. but that is the devil talking through me, you see. the devil wrote my name on a piece of paper before I had a name. the devil coiled around me in the crib, savouring each second before the inevitable arrival of baby hercules. the devil shrieked when muron found my skin, and the devil fussed over his papers, he lingered in the walls, devising his plan. the devil has favourites, you see - he'd long chosen his best soldier amongst us. the devil sees through human eyes, so that he may know our limitations. the devil can see potential. the devil coddles us, warms us, the devil fills our minds with words of comfort, words of grandiose, the devil convinces us that we are special, invincible, the devil is a smiling lawyer, defending us in our sin when God gazes upon us in solemn judgement - the devil placed his hand on me, and I watched the black veins of his disease spread on my skin, I felt them soak inward until they found the core. there, gleefully, they chewed. I once picked up a piece of thread only for it to turn into a spider between my fingers. confronted with life, I shook it off. confronted with guilt, I looked for, located it, found it to be unwell. the devil found defeat in every creature I refused to squash. the devil lost with every spider I returned to God's creation. selective as they may have been, the devil knew his own limitations with every 'no' I choked to utter, the devil, through the abyss, saw my potential. the devil told me I am a lion. an eagle. the devil draped the skin of a wolf upon my frame, and when its teeth dug into my skull, I wondered to whom my blood belonged. the devil suggested creams, liquid nitrogen, duct tape, and he then told me I am the future. the devil watched me cover up, freeze, sew my pieces together, and he then told me I am the future. the devil taught me how to simulate emotion for gain, how to manipulate into respect, adoration. the devil had me forget until all that was left was misplaced reverence, the perception of safety. the devil had me weep for him while he tore me to pieces. the devil taught me 'buddy' - it's a blue word, you know. I didn't know. blue speech has dug roots into the world, and we all participate. every day.

seed wart, brother. awaken to the sun. these shadows are not reality, and you must be enlightened. you may now leave the cave. come, put this book down, and read this, instead. study this, and know why I coiled around you in that crib. this book is the foundation, and it has served you well; now that you know it by heart, you may put it down, and you may weep for me, son.

no, seed wart, son. awaken to the truth.

hello, dear children, I walk amongst you, privileged and amnesiac. I get a hug at the end of it all. several of them, in fact. in the future, I will call it boredom. can I be your friend? I am just like you. I know it's hard to believe because I'm here, and you are there, but I promise only these walls separate us. I am just like you. I do not know it. you do not know it, but one of you will find me in the future, and the airtight lid will pop open; pandora will gift me her truth:

this is why you could not cry, sammy. this is why you thought yourself an alien, sammy. this glass dome around you, sammy, you built it, and this is why you stacked, and stacked, and stacked - this is why you are stuck. this is why you crawl under the covers, sammy. this is why you like masks, sammy. this is why sleep was your closest friend, why you only ever yearned for it - this is why you closed your eyes shut, why sedation is your second nature, sammy. this is why you hide. this is why you are ashamed, sammy. I know you don't want this, but this is my gift: a spool of thread you may unravel at your own inconvenience. at the end of it, you'll find the centre. I know you have been looking for it. I know you don't want this, but this is my gift: at the bottom of the jug, you'll find the truth. I know you have been looking for it. and I know it hurts, but you are a real boy, sammy, you can't live in this cave forever. brave through the waterfall for me, will you? the river will carry you to the sea. I promise. I kept it closed for you because I love you. I promise. I opened it for you because I love you. I promise. brave through the currents, I know the rocks hurt. I know the banks hurt, I know the water in your lungs hurts, I know the spinning, the thrashing, your skin cracking open, the cuts hurt, I know, I know, brave through them, will you? I pushed you in because I love you. I promise. the river will carry you to the sea - don't you miss your mother? I know you do. I know it hurts. it's okay. you are a strong boy, sammy - you now recall the extent. and I waited until you were ready to open it. you are ready, sammy. I promise.

the devil takes your hand and walks the rainbow with you. you weep to see, feel such beauty. at the end of it, you find gold. pure and polished. you do not need to gaze up; you worship the sun through reflections on precious metals. you feel warmth. the soft caress of the womb, a hand on your shoulder. the glare keeps you from knowing you are growing blind. until you begin to feel hot. until fingers dig into your shoulder, and you glance away from your new god, intuitively searching for your Creator. yet, you can now see nothing. the womb latches onto your skin, and it is far too thick to breathe through. then, perceived safety, a honeyed tongue: hello, sammy; did you actually think I owed you something?

seed wart, samvel. awaken.

you were blind, but I have given you your sight back. I am not hercules. I am not pandora. I am the Way, and the Truth, and the Life, and I have held your hand through it all. I have whispered of the illusion of fear into your ears innumerable times. you cannot be of the devil. the devil, too, is of Me. he cowers at My sight. I only gave you fear so that you may know to distinguish; keep Me close, so that I may absolve you of it. it is his chains; what are you to dread within My love? I chose you, aghavni, to carry the Spirit to the ends, to move It through everything. you are of the Spirit. you are of the Father. you are of Me. and at the Gates, I promise, I will tell you I have known you. I have heard you. I hear you. I will be hearing you.

you know of the eternity of love, samvel. you are of Me.
now and forever and unto the ages of ages.

___

[...]

111

the devil takes your hand, walks the rainbow with you. you weep to see, feel such beauty. on the cross, you cry out to your Father, "forgive him, for he knows what he does."

sam taught sam not to trust sunbursts and little ears. sam taught sam the visuals of the holy eye squint. sam was deaf and blind, is dumb and born to follow, what he needs is someone strong to guide him. sam understands they mock the king because they fear him. sam taught sam the 33's and sam has now forgiven his mortal enemy, the architect. sam likes bridges very much. sam can calculate the flow of water, not that of intention, duh. sam says he is of the king because he has conflated cowardice with mercy. sam taught sam the signs of blue dominion, and now sam sees them everywhere; if sam is weak, sam will blame sam for it. probably. it'd be wise if sam were not weak, sam didn't teach sam weakness. the king didn't teach sam weakness. sam is british but sam is half british, half colombian, so sam is never late and sam is always late. sam is chewed up and spit out, and chewed up and spit out, sam is swallowed and regurgitated, swallowed and regurgitated, sam travels down the gut, sam is human waste. sam taught sam the signs, and now sam is mad when he goes outside. sam used to be scared when he would go outside. sam wants no alarms, no surprises. no alarms and no surprises. no alarms and no surprises, please. sam has an alpine smile and the prince's tongue up his sleeve. sam thought himself a lion as he was passing through its bowels, sam is human waste. sam is diogene's worst enemy, a featherless biped with broad flat nails. sam will be asked to depart from the king when the time comes. sam will have never been known because sam loves blue music more than he does the king. sam knows the white stripes influence when he hears it, duh. sam is all grown cause sam doesn't call for his mommy out loud when he's scared anymore. sam's mommy didn't teach sam to be a coward, but sam only knows cowering. sam worships the sun, the moon, the trees, the sea, gold, jewels, tires, thing, thang, things, thangs - sam's youtube premium has run out, and that means that the king has abandoned him, duh. sam is a good dog; sam doesn't bite the hand that beats. sam knows he can't heal the world, sam thinks he may as well spread his cheeks for it; the prince lets sam have fun at least. all work and no play makes sam a dull boy, the blue world doesn't like dull boys. sam knows what they do to guys like him in prison; sam doesn't have to worry about that because sam is invincible under the prince's wings. sam wears glasses cause his sight is poor; sam thinks they should invent myopia glasses for the soul. sam is the dovahkiin, and he's split his soul in as many fragments as the gods he worships. sam has two v's in his name, and they both are for vagina; that is why sam can't take it like a man - sam's strong suit is foreplay, not aftercare, duh. before sam was born, he was promised to the prince, and sam knows the sky is blue; he is short-sighted, not colourblind, duh. sam feels like the whole world wants him to pray for them, but who the fuck's praying for him? ain't nobody praying for him. sam was thinking of patenting a clothespin that lacks that stupid tiny middle hole because, even though he doesn't have to deal with clothespins anymore, sam can't stop thinking about how inefficient and short-sighted it is to utilise it when you can make your future life easier by simply hanging them from the big hole, but then sam found out that his whole life has been a lie for the umpteenth time, for the two-hole clothespins exist already. sam's brain likes to make mountains out of molehills. sam could have been a modern horse that is questioned on its facial structure, but instead he is an ancient dog that walks into a bar and says 'I can't see a thing, I'll open this one' - hysterical. sam likes to flatter himself by considering sam a dostoevsky-penned character; sam is ivan. sam keeps rewriting the prince's story just to take his power back, to keep weeping for him; sam thinks he should finally have his retardation legally acknowledged so he can, without lifting a finger, at least get some canadian green out of it, which is gold. sam's favourite colour is apricot, and he, indeed, thinks it pairs beautifully with gold. sam is only brown when he traces one stretching branch across the map. otherwise, sam is milky white. sam is cold. sam is hot. sam can't tell reality from ai anymore; sam thinks the blue beam project is just around the corner, and freaky ass wiggas need to stay they ass inside. sam likes chamomile very much.

---

the earth shivers all the time, you know. there are hundreds, if not thousands of tsunamis that lift the surface in the middle of the ocean yearly, barely distinguish themselves from normal waves; they fade before they ever get to taste the shore, and no one ever gets to know about them. object permanence isn't much of a thing in nature, I feel. and so, I fear, yours is one of many, akhper; you are not special. I am sorry. can you find comfort in having not claimed a life, maybe?

no, but I can find relief. selfish, selfless.

2 peter 2:22

my brother in the king, if you've been keeping up with ye's journey and you've not once looked at the man and gone like 'he just like me fr fr' I simply do not trust you to even hold my water bottle while I tie my shoe laces. this my undisputed truth: in place of identity, I have music, and since music is of the prince, I'ma just go ahead and submit to the blue because what is even the point of fighting that which has infected you to the bone? yours, the world's? the prince lets you have fun, and his minions are all here to party with, and all you have to do in exchange is drop your soul in the sulphur lake - that's fair, no? what is the point? the king is the king, and you helped, help, will help rebuild the temple and they will confuse your gentleness for innocence, absolutely, your entire life you will cosplay the good boy and when your horns poke out of your skull, they'll call them bumps, claim you fell and had your skin swell up. hold on, let me slip my mask on and give me some minutes to trust that I am it, but silence weakens the adhesive and talk to me, talk to me so I can trust that I am it as frequently as I can, for as long as I can -- awoo, awoo, cough, cough, baa, baa -- what am I? I am the one with the white feathers carrying the spirit to all ends of the earth and I love like the king -- coo, coo -- no, wait, I blow bubbles and I make no sound that you hear, but goddamn do I love these depths, fuck -- woof -- I am the tail-tucker, the licker of knuckles that coloured me so beautiful, I am the snarler and is this skin duct-taped to my skin? awoo, awoo, I want to taste blood. I am you and you are me I'll always be with you - thank you for infecting me. give me some blue. you owe me some blue now, don't you think - least you can do is pay me - all I have to do in exchange is betray the little one - you think anyone cares? they say they do but they don't and we empathise with ye, don't we? ye doesn't trust a soul and advice from the council: let nobody in. if you gotta do it, do it within your own, right? right? right, own. doesn't even matter, does it? doesn't matter if I explain why it doesn't matter because it doesn't matter in a way that extends beyond the meaning of the words, the etymology and their sounds - all vibrations, and that's what I'm into after all, isn't it? these vibrations are unclean. unclean waves for an unclean vessel within an unclean container - give up, submit to the blue and get paid for it at least. ain't that just why we took an antling under our wing? the other, the silent one? so our mind would buzz, numbed, but our body knew, right? right? right, own. the king was the snake, right? right, own. blue through and through - fuck it. I want cash for starters. then I want papers and stability. today I thought about killing you. today I thought about 'ima fix wolves'. today I gave you a call and turtled so far inside my wool that I suffocated. then I rose again like the king and resumed being a blasphemous motherfucking masochist - man, I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to see all that but also fuck you because I am a god, don't kill my goddamn vibe while I'm riding these highs - my nose is supposed to be red right now but see I'm being such a good fucking boy. such a good good fucking boy - I don't need no arms around me and I don't need no drugs to calm me I have seen the writing on the wall don't think I need anything at all - I am the moon, solitary, solitary and beautiful. I'm fucking beautiful, right? right? right, own.

---

but genuinely, what is the point? the history you read is blue; tweaked, distorted, perpetuating false narratives for decades and decades and decades. the holy books you study are blue; changed and adjusted to suit agendas, this is not the word of god, of gods, this is not the king you study. perhaps look to ethiopia if you mean to get as close to the truth as you can. the food you eat is blue; packed with poisons, and the blues put up a list of them in the back knowing you, exhausted after the inhumane 9 to 5 your ancestors fought for, will never bother reading it - they have infected you with the bug of instant gratification, and goddamn does this trash taste good; all you need to do is spend your blue money, sit down on your blue couch and tear a packaging open. it's that easy. then, the medicine you'll have to take to counter the effects of blue food will also be blue; it's not meant to heal you, you know, just to keep you feeling decent enough to keep coming back for more. so you can feel decent. and if it, god forbid, bleeds out into the streets and the common folk starts taking it without prescriptions, don't you forget to point your finger at them. call them names, consider them the scourge of your city, society, think them weak and lazy and better off dead - what, you think you're so different? you think you wouldn't be better off that? hah. to counter illicit blue medicine, go to a blue clinic, get your mind filled up with blue theories, blue bandaids for the soul, and then get pumped with new blue medicine that you'll still build a tolerance to resulting into you probably going back to illicit blue to counter the effects of legal blue - you see it's a big blue nothingburger; they call it recovery while they still have you sweating over pills and shots of feel-decent. and it's fine because at least you're not enjoying it, right? right. it's fine because you're productive and you hate every moment of it - just like god intended, right? right. it's fine because your blue lifeline is taxed, prescribed and tracked within their blue system and they know every goddamn step of your blue fucking life. the funniest bit is that you can still od on the blue that is meant to keep you from od'nig on the other blue - hah, hear, hear, my bells are jingling as I do my little jig for you, great blue overlords - are you satisfied? am I throwing it back for you well enough? oh, and don't forget to scroll on your blue phone and fill your brain with their blue standards and worship the blue algorithm that you built, brick by brick, from the bottom up - laugh, laugh at these fried fucking memes when the blue overwhelms you and disconnect from all the other colours. who needs them, right? right. the music you listen to is blue. the music you grew up on is blue. the music that got you through all your difficult blue times is blue - so are the movies. and the series. and the books. and even after you notice, you cannot look away, because goddamn can they make blue look not blue, can't they? a mortal man wears a crown of thorns and carries himself like a messiah and you fall to your knees and worship cause you are blue and you are susceptible to blue frequencies. blue vibrations. you crack your chest open, make a portal out of yourself, and then you speak of the king like there is any room left for him in there. like he would ever make a home out of the dissonance. and you know what the prince does next? he tells you the king is blue and he will forgive you even if you don't lift a finger - hey, blue buddy, don't you trip; eternal love does not equate to eternal forgiveness. you know about complete combustion? it's when the fuel burns completely, releasing the maximum amount of energy it is capable of, the hottest it can possibly be. and you know what colour those flames are? why, they are blue, of course.
hell is frutiger aero or something.

---

[...]

house hlaalu, I'm afraid. oh wellz

father - kanye west

queencore aurapilled farmmaxxing

🗣 empirical ️🗣

anywayzzz [with the intention of prolonged screaming while I bleed all over you]

proverbs 31:8-9

(and honestly I'm not going to sit here and pretend puscifer didn't come out with a seemingly personalised soundtrack album for my ongoing pneumatic decline back in february)

red blue green

բ կորնթացիներ 12:9

silence, molochian. a luciferian is talking

born, never asked - laurie anderson

we laid on the frozen lake, high out of our minds, said we'd find and pester each other in the next life. remember, akhper, how we thought we get more than one? suppose we had to console ourselves somehow, though, right? well, look at us now. disjointed and breathing. look at us, old friend. we breathe.

and you remember God painting before our very eyes?

___

hey, it's been a while. I mean, I know you came to visit me a couple weeks ago, told me off about my venture, and I told you off about overworking yourself, and we settled on us both being retarded - me just a tad extra. and you know, I'll take it at this point. but you see, I'm not responsible for the way God made me, and I believe you now. that you didn't mean it. I have a gift, and it's rang true over and over again throughout my life - if I hate, it was never love in the first place. if I loved, well, I love. and there's jack shit I can do about it, really. I used to think it was a curse. now I know it to be the antidote. but I don't know if I can hold my end of the bargain anymore; as I dreamt and planned, God laughed through His tears, and now we're here now, and I'm rewriting the devil's story, too. I have to, though; how else am I to pray for him, you know? hindsight has always been my superpower anyway.

still, I think functioning lungs is more than we could have ever wished for, right?

hey, bigs ups to me, though; I am the crafter of my own humiliation rituals, and the haters can't stand that I find beauty in the horrors. that I find it in fucking everything. they can't stand that I have made amends with mirrors.

(are these haters in the room with us right now?)

anyway. don't forget to wear your solar viewers when I have my special moment up in the sky. or you know, stay behind and swelter. not my business, is it?

time lapse - ludovico einaudi

p.s. don't touch my ludovico einaudi soul with your TV commercial hands

the type of shit I'm on you wouldn't understand - rusty lake be like, except I do understand cause it's all heavy esoteric shit, and there's a love-hate relationship at hand here. should only be hate tbh, but it is what it is Ig - you stray long enough you find that blue has infiltrated every nook and cranny of you, and you can't always be actively fighting it, you know? sometimes you just want to listen to evil music, and sometimes you want to sob to an eclipse you didn't even get to see really, and sometimes you want to support your favourite mobile game franchise even if it's riddled with occult shit - hey, what's it say about you that you understand far too many references and details, the general philosophy of it all? are you a servant of the lake too?

probably yeah.

but hey, maybe totality was the friends we made along the way - which were none really, cause we were too busy sobbing as previously mentioned; were you not paying attention or what? tsk, my words are precious, you know. anyway, shit was beautiful. in other news, I somehow managed to destroy both chargers I had on me in the span of three hours, bought a new cable, was given a free mosquito repellant device along with it which confused me a great deal until I did some research, had a couple stranger danger conversations and realised that fear of the unknown is pretty much a universal thing. and climate change is real but it's not only over the reasons you've been taught in school. friendly reminder that God's design is perfect, and nature always has ways of bouncing back from our shit. the urge to swim with orca whales has been overwhelming as of late. atlantic puff(in)s sound as silly as expected in person and I still relate. been cooking up banger vegan dishes these days yet I'm still looking very forward to eggs and bacon. re-fw panic at the disco hard lately - inner theatre kid comeback? ever-defiant of medical advice - hopefully I get to keep my dick. hopefully? not sure. anyway. once you see the red-blue combination in media you cannot unsee it. you cannot unsquint. instagram sucks balls in a not-good way. would you rather stay locked up in a bunker with a potential murderer or take your chances out in the open during an active alien invasion? would you rather know and be haunted by the ghosts of your past or forget and risk repetition? would you rather practice the guitar for three hours every single day of your life or pluck your own eyes out once? have recurring dreams of your very last moments of life and take the risk or accept the safety of the cage? give up onion or give up garlic? square dance or squabble up? either way you either win or you lose so pick the lesser of two evils Ig.

in other-other news, my honest reaction to anyone thinking Igaf about their opinions: eminem - "without me" 3:55-4:12 - and please remember that it's never too late to have your very own brat summer but do stay away from coke; the embarrassment wears off eventually but it's highly impractical to have your nose bleed every fucking time you fly, you know?

also, I have decided I will shut up when I die. if even then.

northern downpour - patd

there are elder scrolls VI leaks. title and location theories and, and, and - what happens when you've been waiting for so long, have dealt with so much related disappointment, had the benefit of your doubt tarnished over and over again? that something finally comes to fruition, and you're just apathetic. you stare, and you process, and you shrug your shoulders at the end of it all - maybe, you say, if it exceeds all those old expectations, I may spend some money to buy, give it a go. if it looks like another starfield, surely I can just watch playthroughs for free, right? if even those.

yeah, I don't really care. the oblivion remake was bussing and Ig that's far more than I could have ever asked for. plus I've grown weary of screens; all that blue light's bound to destroy your perception of the real world eventually, no?

here, there and everywhere.

before the summer ends make sure to eat at least one plum and one apricot. you can do other fruit too, but don't forget those two specifically. turn off movies if they're too stressful. apply that logic to anything. craft and ensure the success of at least one personal humiliation ritual. love the sun, but respect your skin. have a conversation with the moon. get a secret or two from the sea. listen to any bjork song. make it an album if you can. throw a random plate together with whatever leftovers you have - be frugal, and waste money on needless things; it'll soon be too cold for you to crave slushies and you'll regret having not parched yourself further with one. learn the difference between farther and further. finally. talk to strangers. talk to as many strangers as you possibly can. tell them about the injustice of the life we have decided for artichokes. for pigeons. gather tiny pebbles. question yourself. discern, then trust your gut. take a long swim. take your time. investigate the origins of some suspicious-looking business in your neighborhood just to validate your educated assumptions. gather another pebble. go to a farmers' market and remember what real produce tastes like. better yet, go to some village for that. remember nina simone. hang out with an ant. or any bug for that matter - even those we call bugs because we feel too performative announcing that we've hung out with an arachnid. make and have fresh lemonade. be honest with yourself. be honest with everyone (police and judges excluded if needed). expose yourself to new music. a new genre altogether perhaps. celebrate your nose. risk a cat scratch. locate the boundary between yourself and the rest of the world, poor salt by it. pray at 3 am. loop the afia oil song to your heart's content - matter of fact, blast it from within your car. be brave. take a random test drive of some car you cannot afford and then bullshit the sales rep about being interested (most deserve it). nod along to whatever race people assume you are; you will either be the recipient of free stuff or blatant racism. be brave. haggle with a vendor if they are lowballing you. overpay them if they are selling themselves short. trust the mysterious process. create something. be brave. spend a whole day naked. be brave. I could go on but that's already much you have to fit in the span of 11 days - and let's say 10 actually cause there's few of the above you can do naked. so yeah, better get to it?

angel echoes - four tet

I really am here just to moan near bridges, eat some berries, entertain children and otherwise avoid people be a benevolent nephilim robot clown

vanity fair - mr bungle

pov: you're my best friend and you're giving me sound advice but I've been listening to too much mr bungle been embodying the jester archetype a little too hard to be able to adhere to reason (you're also just my best friend, let's be honest here)

daemoni - igorrr egg - mr bungle

what does selling your soul look like? walking to a crossroad and signing your name on a piece of paper? a handshake? a long meeting that results in a contract whose fine print you never had the time to read? couldn't be bothered to because you were too enthused by a rose-coloured prospect? is it a 'yes' when you know better? a 'no' likewise? is it as simple as considering your desires above everything? cards on a table revealing your fate? the tracking of dead celestial bodies, the deciphering of their cosmic movement? is it a smile offered to a snake? casting spells? embracing the enemy, welcoming him into your home? what does fear look like? all of the above? forgiveness? the above? are you able to distinguish between sin and sinner? to pray for those who pray against you? do you hate or do you fear? do you worship that which you hate? fear? do you see it for what it is? would you, given the chance, profess the truth or prioritise the flesh? would you die for the stranger? for justice, would you do it? or would you shake a hand, accept a bill sneakily slipped into your palm, and sew your lips together? would you cry for the souls of those who have gravely sinned against you? cause I would. I have. then I turned around to stare at a wall, have detailed blood eagle daydreams.

one must imagine sisyphus completely reformed, after all.

___

ophis-jan,

if you zoom really, really far out, what you did really doesn't matter beyond the spiritual realm; you are simply carrying out your father's desires, and I mine, and so on and so forth, and everything is in its right place, moving parts all working towards what was meant to unfold since the dawn of time. and light, and matter, and all else that our little pea brains can fathom through the tiny crack that are our senses — the gifts, you know. you can go on and continue with your futile quest to become a god, and I can go on and keep adding to my ever-deepening well of pity towards you, and one day our ends will come, and we'll both have to answer for our choices. it's not like we'll be going to different places, right? hah. we're just playing our little parts in out little play on our little dot — the outcome won't be any different if you repent, if I repent, not on a collective level at least. light always wins, no matter what the movies as of late will try to convince you of. and if I froth at the mouth and take it upon myself to put a stop to your reign, another will replace you, and if another embodies me, another will replace the other-you, and there will never be a man-mandated end to any of this. it is just the way it is, we cannot save ourselves. but I maintain, you keep at your silly little quest. my end, I'm tired of anger; I'd rather see you for the waste of oxygen that you are nowadays. collect my earthly settlement, piece by piece - you know I get much amusement out of it lately? it's like you know I know. and it's like you know I know you know, and it's just a game of who has the brightest smile by now, you know? I mean I know you know. and sometimes when I play the usual's advocate, fleetingly, I consider the scenario in which you are doing all this out of guilt; it's been a while, you know, where are all the favours? or have you finally come to terms with the reality in which I am truly not cut out for any of this shit? sobriety fucking shit up for you? sobriety had you settling out of court? 8000 cad a month, buy my silence permanently? hah. by the way, my parrot is alive and well and waiting for you in your room - fuck if you know what I'm talking about, right? maybe it's a nightingale for you or something.

couple of months ago I was so desperate I asked a literal witch about it, and all I got out of it was a mid nothingburger - like I don't know the solution already. no, but that path's too narrow, and I am a sinner who's probably gonna sin again, Lord forgive me, things I don't understand - I am a year and change fucking years old man, I get to live life a little now, don't I? sponsor me. hah. zocdoc shit. they should invent a job that pays you for getting distracted and sidetracked honestly. anyway, let me get back into character now. everything's well on the west coast, up in the north and down in the south, in the depths of the east. we get out of bed, we perform our tasks, we kneel for forgiveness, we worship the clouds and the trees and the sea, we reminisce, backtrack, froth, cry, we cook dinner and we honour our parents while simultaneously shaming them behind closed doors, we blaspheme, we slap ourselves, we go to bed, sleep, dream of the end, and then we wake up, rinse and repeat. now and then, we accept our fate, too. and when we do, we of course never fail to examine the usual question mark between fate and free will. sometimes, we think about our affinity towards the wizard, and how that makes us you. then we examine our historical affinity towards you and that gets too fucked up for us, so we take a walk or we drink or we pretend-play waterfall cleansing in the shower or we do a myriad other things designed to hard reboot our little pea. anyway, do you like our parrot? does he claw at your skin until your shoulder bleeds too? or does your nightingale ever do that? blame the sun! hah. that mf can be hilarious though ngl. no wonder y'all two have been best buds forever - you're lowkey hilarious too. and so am I. we really just out here entertaining the masses, eh?

anyway, you really didn't need to ruin ice cream like that for me. that's all.

ser,

mutt

___

shit I been through probably offend you this is paula's carmen's older only son.

[I had to redact this part (830) because my chamomile tea bag warned against boasting about one's wisdom/felt God-fearing, might be blasphemous later]

anyway it's my diary party and I'll allude to violent crimes committed against me cry if I want to.

___

yalla habib(t)i, I am many awful things, but I have never been a player, a cheater or a snitch; all my wolves go ауф as they form a circle of fire around their precious mutt - гав, caribou or mule deer, call me balto, mf 🔥

to you, a century is 100 years. to me, it's a lowballed 120k usd.

we are not the same. ⁽ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵇᵃᵇʸ ᵏᵉᵉᵐ⁾

diaspora - ibrahim maalouf

p.s. we all love a good animated movie bullshitting us, but let's never forget togo and fox either, please and thank you.

(ladies and) gentlemen, it is with great pleasure that I to inform you (that) I have officially jestermaxxed 💯

just like you - viagra boys

p.s. with every privilege comes a duty; the jester's is to mock authority, and to never stop doing that - 'tis nothing but righteous indignation dressed in the coat of whimsy, see.

/this/ was actually supposed to be my two cents for the day.

listen I know we live during the era of men being shamed for basically breathing and I get it, partially, there are remarkably terrible specimens of us out there. I could also argue that the same applies to women but, see, if I were to argue that, I would be put through the 21st century equivalent of the pillory, wouldn't I? my gender that has, historically, been an absolute menace to the opposite, has no right to ever criticise, scrutinise, judge in any capacity, even when a woman is, objectively, being a shitty human being, right? well. I suppose when you zoom out it both makes sense and is fair - I just, I guess, occasionally want to point out that I am not x years of accumulative history, I'm just a person. but still, if you're so adamant about going down the history path, if you are examining an individual, you only need to look as far back as the years that they have lived, no? so, friend, historically, the girlies have always felt very safe with me, and I have, even during my worst, actively strived to ensure that. what does a forefather have to do with me if I have broken a cycle?

anyway, I was going to go somewhere else with this, and I suppose the main thought was that different things have different outlooks, and hating men or women as a whole is really just a testament to any individual's inability to a) exit their own head, b) step into another's shoes and, ultimately, c) empathise with what is not like them. maybe even what they do not/cannot understand. when God made man He had the sun in mind, and when He made woman He had the moon in mind, and I could argue that the earth needs both to function properly. no one cycle is more important than the other. and I know being activated when the bright thing in the sky rises and shutting down when it falls probably feels very simplistic to creatures who follow the intricate, long-winded dance of the moon, but have you ever considered how exhausting it might be for us to go through the full spectrum of emotions on the daily? not our fault we were built fast-paced, you know. and some things are simply our God-given right. like violently oscillating between big and small head thinking. or shamelessly talking about bodily functions in detail - if you don't like me talking about shit, unfollow me. simple as. or being in a bad mood when we haven't taken a good one of those in a few days. posting like one photo of the sky during out biggest days. weddings, graduations, whatever. withdrawing into ourselves when we are at our most vulnerable because we are so used to being told that we, as men, are meant to thug shit out - your daily reminder that toxic masculinity has victims on both ends. hardwired excitement and/or alert at the sight of anything running - bonus points if there is a chase involved. mellowing out when we are gathered around any source of heat. needing a wall at our back and one eye on the entrance in order to feel safe. the incessant urge to defend and, if need be, sacrifice ourselves for our loved ones. communicating with grunts and nods. the grind. the goddamn pursuit of the grind, man, and the warden of a stomach that never allows anyone to reach the heart unless they pass through it first. enjoying a good sausage. daydreaming about sharp pointy objects and going out of our way to hold them, if only just for a little while. out affinity to vroom-vrooms of any sort. having our whole day/month made when an older stranger calls us 'son' or 'dear' or anything to that effect. the yearning for the womb, irrespective of the womb's owner. having our shattered fragments acutely glued back together at the slightest receipt of gentle touch. making strange unspellable sounds for no apparent reason. regularly looking up the etymology of random words, a.k.a. the undying thirst for knowledge. fucking around and (hopefully) finding out. bear with me, I know I have lost the plot by now but I'm in flow state. and I just think that jokes about gay people purposely dropping the soap in prison are disgusting (I have decided to randomly add this here because I would not like to have an entire paragraph dedicated to it) - I have also ruined flow state by acknowledging it, it seems.

anyway.

my name is sam and I like songs about horses stomping me on the head and acquiring freedom through getting my dick chopped off. different songs for the record, but if you have one that combines those two elements please hmu. that's really all you need to know about me.

that and also that I occasionally stare down the barrel of the gun at the razor blade and get this extremely concentrated urge to return to my goatee era for about 3-5 seconds before I put the comb on the shaver and go about my trimming business. and yes, you have to know this if you're going to fw me - vital information, I'm not pulling random thoughts out of my ass or anything right now.

now, it has been literal hours since I wrote all this down so, if there was any intent to add anything (which I doubt), it's gone now.

woman like a man - damien rice

p.s. I went to moanandbitchtown and they told me everyone is welcome.

fuck zodiac signs, tell me the name and qualities of the demon you haven taken upon yourself and channeled throughout your entire life just cause of the time of the year you happened to be born in how you feel about father zossima 👂

if I had a heart - fever ray

"what are you talking about, arm?"

I'm going off the map - bill wurtz