going to take it upon myself to enjoy a 20mg adderal & rewatch the emily dickinson documentary because i love myself

some days i wakeup & realize i was born to be a first-rate tweaker

just out of curiosity i think i will envisage spending a life with someone special. i know there will be some ups & downs but im always due for a lesson in humility

very on brand of me to wake up feeling like ive been psychically mauled by something from the other side. back to being convinced that im haunted

currently muddying my thoughts up with wine in hopes that some new associations emerge

i love to remember my grandmothers favorite line “its nothing but the devil” & using it even when things are going pretty well

im not necessarily conflict avoidant but i suspect that growing up an only child has made me kind of bad at choosing my battles. almost like people with siblings learn early the art of picking a good fight. wish i had that skill

elegantly suffering from a slight case of machismo after suckingdown a tallboy yerba matte on an empty stomach. nobody can beat my ass

naturally feeling very tender & vulnerable tonight after allowing so much blue computer light to seep behind the eyes. somedays it just feels like i cant see enough

Realizing how quickly I fully process my feelings.

not so hard to wake up & beg for something to live for. easy enough to say to yourself “i want the kiss kiss” & receive nothing. but then there is the alcoholism

ive never associated gossiping with hating. only people who harbor evil in their heart create that sort of tension. true gossip is like sharing a diary. everybody gets a slap in the face

elegantly forfeiting my time & energy to anybody because i was born a libra

finally had my favorite birthday on the unluckiest day of october

suddenly spending a lot of time trying to take care of myself. i think that this could be my lifes work

without giving it all away im a wishful thinker & i love to put faith into things that i love but dont understand

greeting the new day by beating my head into the wall & reaching for the sky to affirm my grace

unfortunately my hangovers are kind of beautiful. i get a new pep in my step. at the heart of it is the fact that im easily pampered, so things like chores & exercise come to me like play

the thing i love most about music is that music breeds beautiful narcissists. and by beautiful i mean truly beautiful, in that you wish you could hold them in the palm of your hand & gaze for several hours

see im the kind of guy where i like to figure someone out. like i wanna get into their head, open them up & flesh them out. carve you up & spit you out, that sort of guy. somehow it seems that this process always leads to disillusionment?