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i’m supposed to type, that’s what i’m meant to do. is touch keyboards and look into monitors until whenever it is that they become obsolete, or if i do, then me first. it’s a competition to test who runs out of usefulness. a communal suction device, too, you can feel the spindles connecting each pixel pricked into your soul for a medical kind of lifeforce exchange for information satiation exposure influence and control. everyone loves to suck and be sucked on… so it’s only natural to fall prey. cynical millennials, it will become ever more awkward and sad :}

if only i could tell anyone what i’m doing, what i’ve done and if only i knew exactly how many and to what extent every little tiny infinitesimal thing i’ve ever done to decrease the length of time left of mine to twist and curl upon this dear earth! i would tell you that. i would tell everyone what’s killing me and i would make that data public, is what i mean. or would i? temporarily. but i would also tell everyone and i would cry afterward that no one cares and that they’re mad that i even wanted to know. evil for knowing! we’ve all been there.

gray silver white violet blue dark marine watery fluorescent sterile clinical cold arctic almost white gray bright, bright glowing blue

i don’t think things are bad as they say. i think when i believe what they say, things become worse than what they actually are. but i’m over it, i’m done, in a peaceful way. nothing is personal, i’m unattached to it. hovering, that’s the world. one static levitating image. everything only seems to move from the angle through which one aligns their inner eye. kaleidoscopic world, i want to be loved so bad.

but i’ve had some time to myself, i’ve had some time to unwind. i’ve had more time than you realize, to let others hijack the deepest corners and the most tightly guarded circuits, cells, membranes and nerves that occupy the backward interior of this body that connects my mind to earth. and i’ve come to no conclusions, i’ve understood nothing. the wheel spins! and if only i had extra eyeballs i would carve them into nicely formed dice. split the pupil and paint some extra ones on. i know that’s dumb, it’s just that’s how i feel and i’ve never said i wasn’t dumb but i have said that everyone is stupid.

not outside of space and time but distended and smeared across it. just imagine how it feels to be static and not while bent into a shape in which you’re comfortable, no, not comfortable at all, but static in a twisted elongated stretched out and hammered out way. like putty pulled until it’s just about to break. then crystallized, frozen, and motionless, then nailed up and down and trapped in a long, long very thin rectangular glass. you can barely breathe it’s like being buried alive in there! never enough air to fill you up inside. glass presses down and compresses you up and space splits you apart! too constricted, see-through. and your face, stricken in horrific petrified fear. taxidermied.

the surgical procedure i recently had used less invasive anesthesia than the procedure i had done last year. last year, i had the tube stuck down my throat and for a week after, that new latex rubber plastic packaging scent sailed up and down and around inside my lungs. latex smell and taste everywhere, and the anesthesia was stronger too. last year i thought of alex karp on the operating table and it was the first surgery i’ve ever had in my life. this time i didn’t though, i thought of something i can’t disclose…

i bring this up because i wonder if that feeling is related to anesthesia, i don’t know. hospitals are so romantic..

well, i just feel a little funny. i like to think this is my semi-private open public space. it’s a very narrow slice of who i am and i’m petrified of being seen as only what i allow to be immortalized online. it’s okay, i’m always telling myself i have permission to be somewhat myself when i’m only barely myself in the most limited inhuman ways.

i talk a lot with my hands, this has always been the case. i notice even more when i speak french because i have to use my hands to search my mind for words. but, it’s true, i have great leadership skills and i’m really good at public speaking (professionally) and i love to speak publicly i just don’t have the chance and you’d think webcam is similar but the audience is not there i can’t be enmeshed so it’s just me talking to myself in front of a camera which is… i can’t get the feedback to attune myself to the group.antenna. i think it’s funny, the gesturing, though because it’s something people have commented on multiple times and i only sometimes realize just how crazy i look when i’m talking and it looks like i’m waving and flapping my arms like a bird and my hands i put into weird shapes and whip them around it must look so insane, i’m so thankful i can’t truly see myself from the outside.

they’re going to judge they’re going to judge they’re going to judge . someday, someday someday. i will live every day without a care for the glare of others’ eyes. wishful, magical thinking. it’s okay so long as i have someone to love …. as long as i can be judged because of my efforts to care for someone 0:)

besides deception, which is the only constancy in reality. and like ants both under and holding their own tiny ant-friendly antmade seeing microscopic lens, ….

i want you to love me i want you to love me i want you to love i want you to love me i want you to love me i want you to love me i want you to love i want you to love me i want you to love me … sometimes !!! i can only hope that the sickening neediness i feel barely seeps out from my auric field. you’ve read nothing, you’ve felt nothing. you know nothing!

… we go about our little lives trying so hard to illumine the mysteries surrounding life and uncover with our little lense the façades and parts and where is and why and always reveal brighten expose. knowing understanding are types of uncovering a slow romantic undressing of reality. we’ve evolved, , , , to keep the world blanketed and very warm modest and zipped up tight with only a few strands of translucency and sheerness if even that. we’ve evolved, my dears, not to see a single tiny speck of what’s really, truly there “there” (“absently waving” there across space, somewhere there who knows where? there is never really any there.). glimpses of it the underneath, sure, sure, of course, not it’s like, striptease. keep going, please please. imagine the sharply pointed smile gleaming with joy at our devotion to continually perpetually obsessively demystify. we can never get enough. even in our dreariest most desaturated colorless and lifeless despairs, we can only depend on reality to tell us how bad our state truly is! but it’s always a kiss, the eternal kiss, as i’ve always said. but yes, it’s true, still too. i’m so seething burning jealous, i want to be as loved and enchanting as reality

it’s the world’s fault i see hell because i’m god’s psychic cleaning sponge. maybe if we hadn’t made let the psychic environment become so filthy, i wouldn’t have to absorb this! something that irritates me is people assuming i’m talking about myself when i say “i”. do you honestly think i’m some fucking sicko who would go around implying YOU?! never! that’s so criminal. i take it all, my dear and thank you, it’s truly my pleasure, i live for it. i don’t want you to think it’s you. but sometimes it comes off as smarm and arrogant, too. which isn’t good but it is fine. i suppose it’s time for bed my loves, and dream of words to say and think and maybe parade a few images and then have some nightmare fantasies. if only i could tell you! dearest internet, of course, someday i must confess, but until that day let us simply say, i love you and everyone living, has lived, will live, or might. xo xo xo xo xo xo xo xo two million kisses twice

/ sorry it seemed like i’m dealing with some sickness in this post! okay, i was sleep deprived and hypomanic symptomatic yesterday. i just… i’m doing this medical thing that’s voluntary and i’m not sick. i really want to fucking blog about it hahaha but i can’t yet. in case anyone reads this i have to clarify, what i mean is that i need to know like, today… maybe you walked underneath a viaduct with asbestos, maybe afterward there was chemical residue on a coffee cup and maybe the coffee machine had heated up something inside and you inhaled the undetectable fumes, etc. i would like a detailed report every day of my eveyr exposure. even the amount of sunlight i was exposed to with accurate solar radiation measurements. so sexy…. a detailed report of this, each day. read it before bed. if only insurance companies wouldn’t have a field day with such a thing… imagine everything in the world monitored except mankind, that would be the type of arrogant self-centeredness i could truly get behind!

anyway, i feel differently today. i just had a pear and while i was eating it i was thinking of typing here and typing about the procedure i went through and everything but i’m so scared to talk about it “publicly.” i think online, it’s been said many times, some people go online to be who they can’t be in real life. i’m more open and maybe less emotionally controlled, maybe sweeter and nicer than in real life because i’m protected and no one can really truly physically hurt me, even if they can psychologically. maybe this is unrelated. i think sometimes though some people feel entitled to power and aren’t exacting enough of it and so go online to assert commands and demands and order and rules and determine what’s moral, pure, and right for all! and with the vaccines, mainstream conspiracism, mass surveillance, obsession with what’s “natural” and new age spiritualism… on the one hand, it’s a recipe for authoritarianism, obviously, which is, to my mind, on the larger scale, the overall intention agenda. in the mundane day to day, it makes interacting with people more difficult. these ideas lean towards extremism and that’s not my “opinion.” Extremism is fine, but I guess I’m sort of a centrist in that I want to the maximum number of people to be happy, healthy and alive. Extremism tends to exclude the other side, and usually cannot be applied to a great many human lives.

some people want to live in a world organized on gut feeling alone, instinct, inner voice, “just know.” I find that so interesting and funny, it’s like, as if your insides can’t be externally manipulated and controlled. How would you know if your instincts weren’t thrown off by a tiny detail you couldn’t account for? What if your intuition is being blurred by conditioning? Not that intuition isn’t correct or anything. I’m not trying to say that. It’s just… sometimes our gut feelings are wrong and sometimes our intuition is biased.  

the reason I bring this all up is because I think if I spoke about what I’m going through, I would receive comments or people would think some harsh, inhuman things about me. in the future, I’ll probably talk about it. It’s hard to feel censored because of how other people might respond but life is often like that, I suppose!