I live vicariously in the lives of strangers online as if I could participate. I wish I could be a party person. I've tried many times but I'm too inexperienced and awkward. I say the wrong things. The reality is that the life I think I'm missing out on probably doesn't exist anyway. I secretly think almost everyone else is pretending to. All but a few are equally awkward. The party people I...
Blogging about not blogging
I’m out of money and food and drugs but I do have some chocolate.
I don't enjoy mornings without chocolate. Even more, I don't enjoy mornings without chocolate and meth. I'm tired. I want to go back to sleep. I could sleep another hour before feeding the chickens but I know from experience, that second sleep makes me even more tired. I'm grumpy. The cat came to me for morning snuggles and it annoyed me. It sensed I was not in the mood and she wandered away...
A rambling blog inspired by found drugs in the carpet once again. Life is better spun than none.
A dream about how politics is supposed to work
A different perspective about how ai art hurts the wirst more than the best
The itch is real and eventually I just give in. The stretch marks on my bflabby thighs are now ribbed for displeasure. There was a time when the scratching felt good. Now I strum my skin grooves and the relief doesn't come. It's 4am on a Monday and I'm going to start my morning distractions. At some point the irritation stops being the main focus and then it's gone until the next time I relax...
A wave of sadness and uselessness returns triggered by sobriety and unrelated comments I interpret personally.
A blog, a song, a video, all done after blowing the final clouds of my stash.
Another day waking up, napping, looping
My minute long podcast about boycotting McDonalds.
