strange annex

It's still dark out.
I don't mean it in the metaphorical sense, but in the actual 'hi I'm black everywhere outside your windows' sense.

This is the third day in a row I've been woken up by night terrors so vivid my skin crawls lava under the pores every hair standing on end, waves of heat and ice simultaneously, locked into paralysis in a half-dream state afraid to turn on the light to see what's standing across the room except nothing is, you know that -

I'm not...it's hard to pinpoint this.

It's hard to pinpoint because I'm a reactive personality. impulsiveness up to eleven. I'm a creature? animal? Of instinct and I don't say this lightly, I say this with years of evidence to back it up.

I rarely ever think things through before I say them. I constantly make an ass of myself. I say things that probably hurt people and usually I'm good about recognizing when I actually hurt them and apologize for it.

I think that's a good way to live. Because nobody gets the wrong idea about you. Because, if you can't control yourself and throw yourself headfirst into things you like, you can't put up a pretense.

That's a lie.

I work very hard to keep the pretense.

Everybody does/I'm not anything special. I say I really hate most people and the cursory glances of the Crowd That Is Real Life is what I do actually hate. I keep people at arms length and sneer and glare while simultaneously smiling and being courteous because without those smiles I'm certain...bad things would happen. Obviously you don't do the smiley thing when surrounded by strange men or walking down a street. Never smile in big cities. Never smile in places you don't know. Don't make eye contact. The world is filled with enough psychos, don't go inviting them all in at once, ladies, by being kind.

Kindness will get you killed. Complacency, making exceptions, making excuses, justifying, all of it is deadly. It's one subtle slip after another, a snowball of peesnow and claymore mines. At the very worst it will get you killed. At the very least it will get you four kids and an abusive husband. 


your gut is the only thing you should ever listen to. 


So I keep people away and pretend to hate them, and I do to some extent. I just keep hating until I get a sense of the person, and then some turn out to be genuinely nice and cool and then I drop the act because they are Good People.

This method has rarely ever been wrong.

Even the people I later turned out not to like so much remain okay people. At their core, I sense they are decent, or 'solid', there's no real word in the English language for the instinctive feel of 'rightness' of a 'person's character'. I would say soul but that's not even quite it.

The point is I'm ruled by my gut. I put stock in intelligence, sure, but at the end of the day intelligence is tied very closely to ego and ego is so frail and exposed and fluctuating. I just can't bring myself to stick all the eggs in a basket made of tissue.

And that's all I have to say about that.

I'm not even subtly funny. I'm just bizarre and figure that's a stand-in for genuine wit and humor.

I try so hard to control myself. To become...a really cool person. I'm going to make an anime reference now derp.

There's always the hot-blooded main character who is really stupid and slow and the others constantly rag on him for it, but for some reason still stick around him. He's nice, sort of, cowardly, sometimes, but generally he's always loyal and willing to do anything to show that loyalty.

And then there's this really cool dude, usually with silver hair, and he's so meticulous and reticent and calm and smart and the girls just fall at his feet because he's so KAKKOII and the main character envies him a little but looks up to him even more. Main character wants to be him. Main character assumes he WILL be the cool guy, someday, because Main character is just that naive.

People don't really actually change all that much.

Which is why Main character is forever doomed to his life of clumsy fire.

But somehow, Main character comes to realize that Cool dude is flawed in some way. And then Cool dude says he envies Main character his fire and it's all a vicious, homoerotic upward spiral from there.

To me, everyone in my life is a Cool dude in some way. It might just be one aspect of them, but it's a part of them anyway. I Main character my sister's Cool dude ability to talk about sex so nonchalantly, her fashion, her effortless good-looking thing. I Main character friend's Cool dude ability to be so freaking cute it hurts, to be so understanding it hurts. I Main character second friend's Cool dude ability to be stoic and reserved, to say things that actually mean something, to keep her composure no matter the situation and still be a bucketload of un-fussy fun. I Main character third friend's Cool dude capacity for adventure, artistic talent. I Main character fourth friend's Cool dude ways of making the whole room laugh.

Everyone is an edgy teenager and I'm just a

inexperienced maternal stick in the mud complaining very loudly about being an inexperienced maternal stick in the mud

I get swept up in other people
I reflect the people in my immediate vicinity unconsciously and sometimes that's horrible
It's why people go OH SUCH AN ENIGMA
Not really an enigma - it's just that if there are people, if there is a feeling in the air I will pick it up and reflect it, eat it, turn it into my own blood, and live it for a while

So who I am by myself is never really on display

I'm not saying I don't have feelings and motives of my own, because I do, but unless I sit down for weeks and meditate and then hopefully have an 'AH HA' moment, I can't pinpoint them, I can't define them, and they might as well not exist for how quickly they change and how oblivious I am to them. I'll act on instinct and be perfectly content with not knowing why I just did something I did. as long as the gut says it's okay, I won't regret it. I will in hindsight, sure, but the moment is the moment and I love the moment

It makes talking really hard

People misunderstand me, or get mixed up signals, or just straight up have no idea what I'm talking about. I try to WILL IT to them, via my mind, to just transfer the feeling, the point I'm trying to make, but you can guess how often that works


...surprisingly often, granted the right people are there. I don't know what right means but I know it when I talk to them. See! This is what I mean mean mean mean.

FUCK YOU shadow in the corner I'm fine now BITCH I got a LAMP ON and I'm hugging a BIG ASS CARNIVAL TEDDY BEAR that smells like exhaust ewwwwwwww


I'm starting to dread sleeping because I know these influxes of terror will seep into me and wake me up again and again, so I put off sleeping for as long as I can

I just want it to stop

no I don't. I don't want anything to stop. Life is also terror. It can't be soapstone content all the time. I'm okay with that.

I kind of like the feeling of the hot-cold wave under my skin, anyway.

what is the point


the point is I have no idea who I am or why I feel the emotions I do when I do, or what I'm truly capable of unless faced with each individual cosmic instance of living, one moment at a plodding time, so when people ask me or try to pinpoint me I just shrug and trollface my way to the bank because pinpointing is not a concept in my existence

and I sort of don't ever want to know who I am because that would take all the mystery and fun out of it

The sun's up.



EDIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT:

I forgot! I forgot. I forgot I don't really matter.

it doesn't matter who understands me and who doesn't, or why, or how, or when

it doesn't matter who I am or who I'm not, or who likes me as a person or who doesn't

All that matters is writing.

failure is not an option
I do not fail

that's exactly why it doesn't matter if I look up to people, if I want to be cooler, all of it doesn't just matter because

I'm not a humannnnnnnnnnnnnn

I'm a purposeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

I became a purpose the second I found that purpose



I forget and call it a job so easily/I promised I would never forget
this is not a job it is a dream
never forget that
or you might lose the magic

I AM MAGIC


I'm going to try to sleep now here goes nothing

please don't fail
please don't fail
please let me sleep okay
please leave me alone monsters

or don't

I'm cool with whatever makes for better writing

all the nice things

1849 - Haliford springs up around a vein of gold during the California gold rush.


1852 - A horrific accident occurs in one of the mines. A cave-in occurs, trapping 52 miners inside to die. Unable to dig them out, the miners perish. One miner (Gregory Brown, 30) is found outside the mine four days later, near-catatonic and dehydrated. He survives but does not speak a single word until he dies. Has two children.


1870 - Haliford's next source of income becomes the railroad and Chinese labor trade.


1924 - The ever-expanding Haliford builds a high school on top of the sealed mine.


1951 - Post WWII, Haliford doubles in size. Attendance at the school rises exponentially.


1952 - An urban myth among the students begins to circulate - the ghosts of miners can be heard in the basement, pickaxes banging on cement.


1957 - The first student goes missing; Freshman Milo Jameson (15). Was last seen at JV football practice. Reportedly last to leave showers. An investigation is launched, and it is determined Milo ran away and is presumed missing.


1961 - An electrician called to repair a basement fuse finds a blood-covered wallet belonging to Milo Jameson behind a radiator. He reports it to the police who launch a search of the basement, but find nothing.


1965 - The school nurse, Gabrielle Morgan (35), goes missing. After finding a half-finished letter of resignation on her desk, police assume she quit and left the state. No media coverage.


1971 - Two students go missing; Junior Amanda Brown (16) and Senior Grace Hernandez (18). Last seen returning drama club costumes to a storage closet near the basement. Four days later, a note with the words 'I'm sorry' is found in the drama closet. With no evidence to the contrary and testimony that the girls faced harsh scrutiny for their relationship, police assume they are runaways.


1983 - Cold case unearthed by forensic students at University of San Francisco. Blood on Milo's wallet confirmed to belong to speices of deep-ground bat.


1994 - Shrunken organic matter discovered by a cleaning service hired to remove abestos in school basement. Matter determined to be the eyeball of Grace Hernandez, long dehydrated and dusted in decades-old vomit. Vomit origin unknown - testing proves it does not belong to Hernandez. School closed for extended sweep of basement. Police find no further evidence.


2002 - The words "Give it back" are written in pig's blood across the northen wall of the basement. Sophmore Allen Wilson charged with defacing school property. Despite solid evidence to the contrary (pig blood-covered shirt, pig blood under nails) defendant claims he recalls nothing of the incident.


2009 - School undergoes massive reconstruction over the summer. Building integrity reinforced and new south wing added. Basement expanded to accomodate south wing. Construction crew unearth sealed mine shaft during expansion. Upon unanimous decision concerning student safety, seal is reinforced and access to the shaft itself is cemented off.


2011 - Over the course of two weeks, three students break into the basement and deface the northern wall with red spray paint. One writes; "Don't". The second writes "Stop". The third writes "Me". Perpetrators are caught. They vehementently deny any involvement or interaction with the other students despite footage to the contrary captured on CCTV.


November 2013 - Freshman Hailey Fargis (15) kills self in the basement by drinking bleach. Student testimony reveals she was severely bullied and 'a bit of an oddball'.


February 2014 - Sophmore Brandon Resse (15) kills self in the basement by drinking bleach. Police discover he had been dating Hailey and surmise he emulated her death out of despair. Strict grief counseling for all students enforced.


June 2014 - Four students from neighboring Blackhill High School break into the basement and kill themselves by drinking bleach. Police and parents design community-wide suicide watch. Basement locked and kept under 24-hour surveillance.


Summer 2014 - Serial defacer spray paints the roman numeral six in various areas of the school. Despite CCTV installation, perpetrator goes unidentified. Serial defacings continue until CCTV reveals the culprit as Anthony Brown (37), one of many night guards stationed in shifts outside the basement. When questioned, Brown pleads not guilty, and says he has no recollection of defacing anything. Brown is subsequently fired.


September 2014 - Kevin Dogwood (46), resigns from his post as night guard.


October 2014 - Kevin Dogwood is admitted to St. Mary's General for attempted suicide by drinking bleach.


January 2017 - Freshman Mary Cairn (16) writes a note and affixes it to the basement door. It reads 'I want to be pure'.


May 2017 - Writing notes and affixing them to the basement door is considered a good luck charm among student populace of Haliford High. Many students (a great majority female) affix anonymous notes to the door asking for love, better grades, etc. Faculty discourage the practice and janitor cleans the door once every week. Janitor notes in logbook there is always one 'I want to be pure' message among the others, each time in different handwriting.


August 2017 - Haliford and its surrounding areas experience a 6.7 magnitude earthquake. Damage is minimal.


October 2017 - Janitor notes in logbook that although the students still attach wishes to the basement door, the 'I want to be pure' weekly message has changed to 'It's open now'.










|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||




-1-


I'm following Ren because I'm bored.


Theo, glasses perched on his nose and his scowl dark, is following Ren because that's what he does - follow Ren and make sure the idiot doesn't get in the wrong fight or drink the wrong shot or do the wrong girl. Friends since third grade, god knows why - Ren is irresponsible and wild and stupid, and Theo is considerate and kind and smart. It's one of the great mysteries of the graduating class of 2020, along with the exact number of STDs Maya Robinson has and where Greg Pescalos puts the boogers he picks during class.


I look over at Faith. She applies another coat of lip balm. She's following Ren because Ren and her used to be a thing. Flaming hot, possibly-Brazilian Faith - the dream of every blue-balled male within fifty miles - and flaming scum Ren, whose ripped jeans and mohawk and stupid, greasy smile get him more female attention than is logically possible. Together they flamed, and then flamed out.


AJ whimpers and clutches my arm. He's following Ren because I'm following Ren.


"It'll be awesome," Ren crows. "Lane told me he'd show us the door where the mine shaft is, too."


"Isn't the basement supposed to be haunted?" Faith quirks a brow. "There were all those suicides back when we were in middle school."


"Suicides?" Theo blinks. AJ glups and his fingers bite into my arm.


"A girl killed herself in there. Then her boyfriend killed himself," Faith tilts her head, like a bird seeing something shiny. "And then four Blackhill students killed themselves."


The school hall seems to get darker, colder. Outside, the sun is just setting over the line of trees on the football field. Ren shivers excitedly.


"It's gonna be awesome. I've been saving my Gramps' ghost stories for a place like this."


"If you think I'm sticking around long enough to hear you blab, think again," I snarl. Ren clicks his tongue.


"Olivia, Olivia. You always gotta be hostile with me. Don't you like me? Why don't you try liking me for once? Everyone else does it fine."


"That's exactly why I'll never like you."


"Aren't you a hipster," He scoffs, but his face lights up. "Lane! Over here!"


He jogs over to a redheaded guy in a sweatshirt, standing in front of the metal door of the basement. Mr. Williams is the youngest teacher at Haliford, babyface always bright and Chemistry lessons always cheery. He listens well, and makes friends with all his students in some way with his eagerness to help. He's particular friends with Ren - Ren's just one of many people who call him Lane instead of Mr. Williams.


"Keep your voice down," Mr. Williams laughs and gives Ren a high-five. "Unless you want to end your Halloween getting caught?"


"You could get fired for this, Mr. Williams," Theo presses.


"The basement isn't totally off limits, Theo." He smiles. "Besides, I come down here all the time to restock basic chemicals for labs. It's perfectly safe, I promise."


"Another hour and the school will close," Theo says. "All the after-school clubs will go home, and -"


"Then we'll just have to be out of here in an hour, huh?" Mr. Williams slaps Theo on the back. He fishes with some keys and opens the basement door. It's clean of messages, but usually the door is packed with scraps of paper with wishes on them. Utility lights line the ceiling over a long stairway down. Ren dashes in first, Faith tossing her hair and following him. Mr. Williams motions for us to come with, and disappears down the stairs.


"It's like a freakin' bunker in here!" Ren's voice echoes. Theo shoots me a hesitant look, and I try to smile.


"C'mon, student council president. Be brave."


Theo rolls his eyes. "You know me, I'm not -"


"Shit!" Ren's voice.


"Don't touch that, Ren!" Mr. William's voice.


"God, what did he do now?" Theo growls, and follows without a second's consideration. AJ turns me by the shoulder.


"Is it true? The suicides that happened down there?"


I shrug. "I don't know. I kind of remember hearing something about it on the news. Look, you'll be fine. I'll be there. We'll just look around and leave, okay? We don't have to stay for Ren's bullshit stories."


"But you want to stay, don't you?" AJ says. "For Theo."


I open my mouth. Close it. Open it again. AJ shakes his head.


"You should stay. M-Mom needs me to help with Ginger and her friends tonight, anyway."


"And let you be bullied by a bunch of Disney-channel-obsessed eight-year-olds trick or treating? No way. We're going to my house and binging on cupcakes and xbox, and that's final."


AJ looks relieved. We inch down the stairs together. It's not particularily scary - the basement clean and well-kept, machines purring quietly in their respective rooms. The boiler whirrs. The lights are clinically white and bright, throwing pitch shadows into corners. Mr. Williams leans against a wall, snickering as Ren gestures wildly along to his story. Theo sits against the wall near Mr. Williams. I settle near him.


"And no one knew where the bastard went. It was just an empty door, hanging open, with nothing outside of it, and then -" Ren slinks over to Faith, sitting cross-legged on the floor and tapping on her phone. He shakes her shoulders and yells; "The body fell! BOO!"


AJ yelps at the sound. Faith just rolls her eyes and sighs.


"Let go of me."


"You're so cold," Ren laments, then winces. "Ah, shit. My hand."


"What's wrong?" Theo asks.


"He hit it on a pipe," Mr. Williams sighs.


"That pipe was out for my blood, man," Ren says, and promptly launches into another story. I tune him out. AJ looks entranced. With his expressive voice and animated face, Ren has that effect, I'll give him that much.


"So it's true?" I say to Theo. "You're really transferring tomorrow?"


Theo adjusts his glasses, flicks dark hair from his eyes. "Yeah."


"Y-You can't go, though." I start, my voice breaking. I clear it. "I mean, who'll keep Ren from killing himself?"


"I'm leaving that up to you, vice president." He smiles.


"Ugh, thanks a lot," I groan. Theo chuckles. I watch his face - so different from last year. More mature. He's grown taller. The summer does that to boys.


"You can't go," I repeat softly. Theo's eyes widen.


"Olivia -"


"The guy didn't even see it coming, just rammed right into him!" Ren raises his voice, like he's trying to drown our conversation out. "So he gets out of his car, and goes around the front to see what he hit, right? But there's nothing there. He turns back to drive away. Gets in the front seat. Takes the brake off, adjusts his rearview mirror, and there it is, looking at him from the backseat - the girl with her jaw missing!"


Mr. Williams feigns a gasp. AJ stands abruptly, and strides off. I sigh and stand.


"AJ, come back! If you've gotta puke, do it in a bucket or something."


He doesn't slow, or stop, or even turn to acknowledge me. His shoulders are straight and high, completely different from the way he pulls them in and shrinks them on a daily basis.


"AJ!" I start after him. "AJ, wait up!"


"Let the pussy go," Faith sighs.


"AJ, are you alright?" Mr. Williams walks with me. AJ turns a corner and disappears behind a machine.


"AJ!" I speed up. This isn't right. He doesn't ignore me. Is he really that freaked? I turn the corner with Mr. Williams. AJ's walking with purpose, direction. He seems to know exactly where he's going.


"He's headed to the nothern wall," Mr. Williams pants. "We can cut him off. This way."


Mr. Williams gets in front of AJ first, face creasing with concern. "AJ, are you alright? Look, Ren didn't mean -"


AJ's curly blonde head ducks under Mr. Williams' arm. He reaches for a door and turns the knob.


"That's locked, AJ. Has been for years, now. C'mon, if you want to get out of here, come back and use the stairs -"


Mr Williams' cuts off. AJ has the door open.


"AJ, close it. Let's get out of here, okay? Back to my house." I try a smile and touch his arm. AJ turns his curly blonde head to me, blue eyes dull and freckles dark against his suddenly pale face. His voice is a rasp.


"It's open now."






||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

Guys I have no idea what I'm doing I just need to focus but I'm having the hardest fucking time focusing WHY


help

this is an earnest plea for help what do I focus onnnnnnnnnn how do I does focus


EDIT: NEVERMIND I'M WRITING SAILORMOON ON CRACK

hit with the bassickness

This is just some shit I dug up from my phone again, mostly from that summer on the east coast

At night the tide goes alllllll the way out and the sand gets shiny and the boardwalk reflects in it how badass is that it was like walking forever on glass

I MADE THIS DISTURBING BUDDHA GUY OUT OF SAND HE WAS AWESOME AND MAYBE ALSO PREGGO

COUSINS PLUS COUSINS FRIENDS PLUS EAST COAST BEACH PLUS BUBBLE WANDS honestly hanging out with them was more fun than hanging with the people my age because the cousins my age just wanted to drink/talk about work/girlfriends/boyfriends and I wanted to scream

that thingy that makes your stomach bottom out

drop all the balls guys all of them/some shitty arcade machine in an equally cheap greasy boardwalk arcade. This place was like Coney Island but in Maine. OLD ORCHARD BEACH there we go. We've spent a few summers as a family there, mostly when we were younger but this was sort of a one last time thing.

Anyway, tons of white girls in skimpy bikinis and white boys checking them out and sticky popsicle hands and sand in your sheets and stupid little shells/name license plate souvenirs and take out pizza and watered soda and muggy air, boardwalk all lit up at night with people smoking in a circle on the edges and me sitting on a bench with a melting strawberry ice cream trying to commit it all to memory

COUSIN AGAIN PLUS ACTUAL BUBBLES PLUS LOOK HOW FUCKING BIG THAT HORIZON IS

I hate beer but what what look at that brandname and those two pimps in their chairs

some toilet at LAX that scared the shit out of me by flushing before all my pee was out. I think I was fourteen hours of jetlag at that point so I took a victory pose picture with it

fridge in dead grandpa's house whooooooooo can't you see the heaven light coming out of that door man

KATIE/AMANDA'S HOUSE NEW YEARS I can't remember if this was pre crater hike or not. One of you snuck this picture in my phone nice one. Also I have six seconds of a recording of someone whispering something incomprehensible I suspect AMANDA but alas cannot prove ANYTHING

misery loves a little comp

ulsory drinking


guess who's also all up in my grill

schol@stic.


(EDIT: ALSO HARPERCOLLINS NOW WHAT WHAT)


and I love every second of it. Let the bloodbath begin. (are you not I AM NOT ENTERTAINED)


I'm actually super entertained



HAHAHAHHA I DID IT

LISTEN TO OUR DRUNK ASSES

HANNAH I APOLOGIZE FOR SPREADING THE STORY BUT ITS THE INTERNET NO ONE KNOWS US/CARES

IF YOU REALLY WANT I'LL TAKE IT DOWN BUT THINK OF IT NOT AS A CONFESSIONAL BUT AS A TESTAMENT OF OUR LOVE



I now present forty two seven (you idiot) minutes of us drunk new years eve watching breaking dawn while the phone was on my chest

bang bang

dark-burning insomnia-fire

there are easy things in the world and there are hard things

and that's all I've learned in 21 years.

Actual white eyes with black pupils are kind of cool.






My sister is visiting. I'm getting used to the smell of her cigarettes, which has become the scent of her, and it's weird because I still remember when the scent of her was some strawberry kid perfume and i mentioned this to her and she told me my scent hasn't changed (rose essential oil is all, really, I hate synthetic spray perfumes)

she said rose smells sad and 'like an old lady' but that it's perfect for me

She's very tall and very pretty and very commanding and very intuitive and very in love with life and people
but at the same time she is not stupid, no, she is very clever but just very raw
and she has a fantastic fashion sense and turns heads wherever she goes, je ne sais quois, or whatever, she has it in spades

interestingly I've never been actually jealous of her because I get plenty of spotlight for being a caustic, annoying turd and not shutting my mouth

and because je ne sais quois is easy to fake if you grow up around it


I walk my path, she walks hers
my purpose is writing
hers is looking stunning while she finds her purpose

she's moving to san uh something. Not diego. SANTA MONICA THERE WE GO. She has lots of tattoos now, too. It's actually sort of amazing. 

She's basically a ninja and I'm a samurai.
in the sense I have a code I adhere to strictly and 'honorable duels' and such and she strikes from the shadows from behind with a poison dart. 

neither of us is the good guy in this Tokugawa era scenario

she is the bullet and I am the acid vat
she is the dagger and I am the cloak
she is the bear and I am the crow

i am the crow and I live to speak about meaningless crap like this and she lives to power through it

I don't worry about her anymore because I've seen her laugh her new laugh and it is steelclad











which is sad but good.
















the future is now and now is really shiny and I'm working hard to make it even shinier so we can meet in that faraway place someday and get drunk and make art a lot

I hope that's okay with you guys.

(PS. I found an audio recording on my phone of 47 minutes of us watching Breaking Dawn this New Years with shitfaced commentary because we were shitfaced. I'm trying to figure out how to get it off my phone and upload it hereeeeeeeeee)

始めるのよこれわ戦争

GUYS I’M JUST A REALLY BAD PERSON OKAY
WHO THE FUCK DO I THINK I AM JUDGING PEOPLE
THAT SHITS DUMB

I hate the sound of myself
I don't want to say ugly things anymore

back to humility land I gooooooo
this is why I stay out of shit and just put my nose to the writing grindstone

no writing = a michelle looking to start trouble where there is none


let's fight it out forever・・・・・これわ心の戦争
Earnest feelings are sins
and I'm a massive sinner
let's not delude ourselves into thinking we are sneaky or multi-faceted or deep or shadowy with complex weavings of feeling and coyness and manipulation
because we are not
coy
other people do it better anyway


we are just honest and naive and annoyingly eager to please


like a stupid little dog


"we are nature's most self aware machine"

"Someone asked me once why suicides choose like they do, and I said; 'If you aren’t living exactly the way you want to, you aren’t really living'."
just fight fight fight fight until you can't and then rest and then fight fight fight some more

I will never comfort you. But I'll defend you if you can't do it yourself!
I'll protect you whether you like it or not!
I'll let you get a good look at your demons before I chop their heads off!


I forgot how easy it is to fight when you have a reason to.

even a dog can bite

消えないこの気持ち

                                               

they crossed monstrous pairs and projected human seed into animal earth, only for the production of shameful crimes and barren deformities.

Horses dislike: People who ignore them, being stuck in a situation, envious people, feeling dependent




STOP.


STOP THE BEING RIGHT BULLSHIT.

ADD 'THE TEXTURE OF APPLESAUCE' AND THIS IS MY HATE LIST EXACTLY.


here's a story about a girl who is not me;

This girl (let's call her Becky for convenience's sake), BECKY works really hard on her art. Let's say, after three years, a particular piece of Becky's art gets picked up by a gallery/retailer/what have you. She's really excited, and happy, and pretty much in love with everything because for her, things are going well. So she tells her family and her art friends.

Most of her family/art friends are super excited for her. She doesn't expect them to be very excited, but they are, for whatever reason. Say Becky's cousin, Charlotte, is also an artist.

okay, fuck this story


I'm really not mad, or anything. It just feels like.

like.

It's the writer friends struggling and family members who've self-pubbed (4 of them).

The more I share the more they close down.

So I'll just stop.

It's okay. Most of my family is the kind that thrives off familial pride for familial accomplishments as a group. They're very hive mind like that. They're the type to order those online family trees that trace your roots back to africa or whatever, and get the fake 'coat of arms' blown up and made into prints.

The writer friends, well. This is where I learn which are really true, right?

it's just

I understand. Envy. I've had it these last three years. Everytime I saw someone get a bookdeal or an agent, I threw myself in my work. Harder. Better. Faster. Stronger. When I saw other people succeed it wasn't 'Why don't I have that' in my head, it was 'if I work harder better faster stronger, I can have that'.

that's just how I am. everything is my fault. When I don't get something I want, it's because I didn't work hard enough. So I work hard, and I get that thing, and that's that.

I'm a hardass that way.

what is the point
The point is


if you do not bleed it will not grow
if you do not offer it your heart, it will not sleep
luck and mandragoras

I'm sure I've said this;
life is too short to take seriously
people, too

love unconditionally and
never get attached
attachment is the root of all evil DOES THIS MAKE ME A BUDDHIST




I'll dye my hair and get some better clothes and decent makeup
and
drink absinthe the old fashioned way with sugar cubes
and
answer every question with a laugh



The hermit's coming back into town, off the mountaintop
Galadriel's bored of treehouses


DEAR GOD

how're you doing bro

let arrogance carry me to modesty and back to arrogance again
let everything wane and wax and come and go
let me love everyone in this life
and everyone in the next
let everything flow
and never let it stop
never
never
never
never
stop

because I'm never going to
stop
stop
stop
stop

never.