This blows.
12 Dec 2020
My journal entries are like letters to nobody: I mean, they’re on the internet, though, so who knows; somebody might end up reading this nonsense. I’d like to think that reading this might be relieving for somebody– the mere fact that somebody else is also experiencing purely emotional suffering and strife with no sense of denial about it. I mean, who ever admits they’re sad on a public platform? I mean, I’m fine, really, but I think we all get terribly sad sometimes, right? Life would be good, I just wish the outside wasn’t so cold and that I had someplace to go.
On Finding a Soulmate Mate
25 Nov 2020
While men may be the head of the family, in most situations, women are the neck. Men are rather simple creatures, motivated by a nut. If the nut’s good enough, they’ll stick around and hover. Through this, a woman can find herself in a very powerful position, getting to nag and help the man improve himself. Maybe she isn’t always actually helping, but people only do what they want. But now technology has enabled us alternatives: when you give men the opportunity to buy that nut, giving them the rush similar to the one they get from a real woman, it can lead to poor results.
For A Feeling of Clarity and Order
23 Nov 2020
I think life’s about addiction: we’re addicted to the vices and the copes that give us a reason to wake up in the morning. I’m hungry right now, but nothing seems appetizing. I might be a little depressed, but when it feels like the outside world is closed off to everybody and everything, and when it feels like even the ones closest to us to are closed off, it just gets really hard to want anything at all. I think I’m first and foremost addicted to The Real: the things that trigger our senses uniquely, and provoke emotions like no other.
It's important to hold onto somebody, or something... I think a somebody is better than a something
22 Nov 2020
We spend our lives looking for The One. Or maybe we don’t: some people just want to spin on the carousel for the rest of their lives, hopping from pony to pony. But after a while, I can’t imagine how slow you’d have to be to not realize that riding most ponies is pretty similar to riding every other pony: like the saying goes, “You’re unique, just like everybody else.” I’d say your own kids are different, though, fundamentally, just because they’re partially you, down to their very DNA. You’re tied to them the way your parents are tied to you.
"While time heals all wounds, I can’t imagine you wanting it to heal in the wrong way."
14 Nov 2020
I always thought that carrying around sadness is like walking around with a lot of change in your pockets, jangling around as you move: sometimes you just have to dump all the change out, count it, organize it, and deposit or something. You can’t keep walking around sounding like a tambourine forever.
