I met two lovely Russian pianists today.
The first was an angel who suffered.
The second was the woman I fell in love with.
I don’t know if any of this is real, you guys.
I’m a terrible person for everything I say.
I do a lot of weird stuff. I push it annoyingly too far. Something has to be done about this and the only solution is to fly over to Russia and bone.
I ought to figure this out.
How to approach even fucking fathom approaching the concept notion of approaching not even a famous social media content creator (like, a celebrity in my eyes, compared to me, a lowly on the internet) romantically, I mean.
How do that.
I don’t know.
I don’t know.
Howl’s Moving Castle. How it goes. Round and round…
I have many redeeming qualities. I’ve been to many strange places in my mind. Which sounds totally like, strange and maybe like makes a criminal of some sort.
But, I write poetry, I’m a scientist. =/
But I have an anger problem. Or not. I don’t know?
And. Something else. Oh yeah. I don’t pay attention. THAT is a problem.
I give up. For now. Let’s move on. let’s.
Okay so I’ve decided now in this transitory period of my life where the meds start to ramp up and my illness gets better, it’s not insane to start a relationship with a bitch, but I”m asking for abuse one way or the other in a probability if I do.
Saying, heying, saying I mean that, it’d be like starting drinking to cure depression. Looking for love when emotionally crushed. It’d solve the problem but really, at what cost. What would I be sacrificing. And what risk would that be. That would be a huge risk.
Doesn’t even edit his posts. They judge. Well. Sorry! I have an explanation for my stupidity! Doens’t that make sense! Oh the connecitons. You’ll see eventually!