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My etiquette has not been too on top of its game lately. Very angry due to too much SSRI (serotonin), completely out of my control, have to taper the medication. Mega suffering most of the time. I took some cold cut actions and adjusted my meds with my psychiatrist’s approval and I think things are improving.

In other news, home alone (family went to play tennis without me).

God damnit. This shit is so fucked. Why.

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Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck?

Fuck fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Fuck.

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Um, I don’t know what to say. I shouldn’t really be on a paid plan. I chopped down some of my mom’s plants because I was angry. It’s not fair. I had no other choice. She’s a bitch. Dad’s a bitch. Brother’s a bitch. Other brother’s a bitch. I’m a bitch.

Everyone’s a bitch!

n.n

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Totally in favor of genocide. The fewer humans, the better.

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Here…

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/37i9dQZF1DWUZ5bk6qqDSy?si=IuShOX_oSqiDDUWrKjaR1A

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I guess it’s time for something less misanthropic. Not that those sorts of posts aren’t true and accurate updates about the status of my life as well, but something more mild.

Um, well, father is quite unruly and despicable. Mother is beautiful but annoying. The brother keeps to himself, mostly. He’s still funding the littlest.

I’m still unemployed, sitting on my fat stack of savings. It’s so hard to get a job when you’re like, handicapped, mentally, like I am. Well anyway.

I’m moving forward slowly on multiple fronts. Coursework, unemployment insurance, general skills. I have resolved not to learn R except on the job, and I don’t want to go back on my word with myself. I strive to get a job just by being impressive in my own specializations. Does that make sense?

There’s been so much aggression and violence in my life lately. The last 8 years have been hell. I don’t want to go home.

Well anyway. Good eve.

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I don’t know who needs to know this (probably no one) but:

The system is too facetious.

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All humans are the same. Mostly just garbage. Put them in the blender.

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Like an insect, people are infatuated with eating my feces.

They like the protein.

Seems they are too slow to be aware of reality.

Most unfortunate that they are still capable of hurting me.

Anyway justice is late.

Good luck, pricks!

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Sorry yeah that’s right. Police state. No more art.