I don’t have anything really to say, it just seems like a good time to write. That’s all blogging is, with some internet-bells and whistles: writing.
It’s sad that one of our contributors is going because of what I say in my personal space. I guess that is one of the risks I took when starting a blog that was, as a model, my most private thoughts for the world to see. I like that model, still. And I’m not stopping. But you’d think people would understand that no one is perfect, and that just because you have vile thoughts does not mean you make vile choices and subsequently does not mean you are a vile person. =/
Still hung up on this topic. The accusation was quite the blow to me.
I’ll likely lose another contrubitor who seemed close to the first aforementioned, and posibly CJ, as well. Sigh. If they all leave, I’m not doing the magazine anymore. Another dead project. Exactly what I needed in my life. This thing was one of the few things keeping me afloat. So I guess I’ll just go spew more racism on my personal blog here if nothing pans out, to vent. Funny, how good intentions lead to terrible consequences. But that would be blaming htem for my actions, which is stupid. I like free speech. A lot. So I don’t really care either way.
Mom’s birthday is tomorrow. I might cut out work early or start the day early or work in the evening or something so we can go to the park, she and brother and I. I didn’t get her a gift. I advocated for her to get a new phone but she puts up such a fight. I don’t know why. Seems regressive.
Nick is on another day trip, so he can’t text today or yesterday. My weekend was alright. Could’ve been more miserable.
I don’t like preaching, be it god or bad. Preaching is stupid. Actions make the difference. This is why I’m so often “anti-positivity”, because it’s stupid and gross and who the fuck cares what you say. I mean people have moods but everyone’s is going to shift differently based on what goes on. Some probably are rigid. Some flexible. It’s different.
I should be more worried about global affairs, i should think. I was following Al Jazeera on twitter but they got spammy and annoying. Also the Economist. Spammy and annoying. And like, good, I know what’s wrong with the world. Am I doing anything to help? Not in the least. It’s pointless. Best just to live your life.
I don’t know about the concept of social power. What is power? Having loyal followers? With guns? Having the most nukes? Being popular? I don’t really get it.
High school yearly like awards for “Best dressed” etc. was a popularity contest. Started in middle school, actually. Stupid.
My fingers are stiffening up and making typing hard. That happens from time to time. I don’t know why. Maybe my body temperature is low. I don’t feel cold but the house is. Maybe that’s it.
It’s probably best not to meet contributors on WordPress. They wouldn’t like me. Submissions from wherever, but don’t meet personally. I won’t cancel anything, but I won’t work on it unless I feel like it, if we lose everyone.
Dad makes such grotesque violent noises all the time. It’s scary. Bangiing on objects, slamming doors, just generally loud. I think he left just now. He buys such useless shit no one needs. He doesn’t get it. Fucking dumbass. His birthday is in September.
Well. I’m here. I should be writing less and reading more, honestly. I read a few articles this weekend. I mean, short ones. But. I don’t kknow. It’s not reading a novel. Or short stories. I miss that. I always say that though.
Getting closer to doctor appointments at the end of this week. I hope some significant changes can be made.
I hope I don’t have any long meetings at work this week. I feel refreshed enough to read more SOPs for training. Let’s go!
Hmm. Littlewood seems like a cute game.
Dear Esther is amazing, though. Short, but amazing. Nothing beats What Remains of Edith Finch. Those two are similar. Very poetic games. Heartstrings ripped to shreds.
Sigh. I don’t know. This is my only outlet and I’m supposed to suppress myself. I don’t know what to do.
I’ll leave it at that. I have nothing important to say, ever.