A Collection of Spectacles


i want to hide the last one because it makes me sound like i’m overindulgent and stupid but that’s not how it sounded while it was still in my mind. it’s not how it sounds. it’s…i can’t explain. i never can.

i should go to sleep but every time i have the chance, i choose to stay awake.

i slept for six

highly interrupted

hours (10-2, wokeupeyeshurtcouldn’tgoback 5-7 woke up nothingbettertodo) this is a shit pattern.

would this still work if you knew that i have the horrible habit of trying to convince myself that nothing’s wrong with me?

i eat next to nothing some days and too much others. i can’t do anything in moderation.

what’s the point of living if you’re going to do things and then take them back? what’s the point of doing anything?

i had a dream last night (and i rarely remember my dreams so this one was important i guess). we were at a table and there were two cooked lobsters. i abstained from eating them because i’m a vegetarian but you were confused as to how to crack it open and i used to love them so i decided to tell you how. actually, we called it a lobster but it looked unlike any i had ever seen before. (yourmotherwasinthebackgroundactinginsane) upon slitting open its shell in the belly area, where most of the meat was usually, there was no meat. instead, four tiny living creatures crawled out. see, you had killed something and i had aided you but out of killing one thing a new thing was born. i thought that was important.

i want to cover my arms. tattoo sleeves so people would shutthefuckup and stop staring at me. and stop asking me things. i want to sew my lips together so people would look the other way.

i like when i’m treated like shit because that’s what i know best. it gets me off. i’m comfortable in seclusion and secure in upset so i secretly think that i have it out for myself. i want to fuck because it’s something to do, something interesting. does that make me a whore? to want to recreate simply to alleviate bordom? i want to be able to check it off as one of the things i’ve done so that i can wave my checked off card in everyone’s face and say see i am human now stop judging me

but the landscape would still look unrealistic.





but the people would still look like robots.

only jamie stewart understands


isn’t being alone, it’s when someone loves

you and you don’t have it in you to love them back”)

i’d stick my head in the oven to tell him.

i’d scream it while inhaling the gas and heat BOOM (your fault). i’d dissipate like smoke.

see? girls can be sarcastic too. HAHAHAHA.

i wish i could be as vulgar and obscene as i really am but it’s not acceptable. it makes for interesting conversation though.



i’m not putting a period at the end of this post that would mean things are ending

Filed under: Uncategorized

One Response

  1. Anonymous says:

    thats so sweet. and meaningful. and sad but not really. like such an unspecified sadness. this is how i write in my “journal” like literally word for word this is so bizzarely relatable. :]

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