Last night was horrifying. I had no sanctity to my own mind. People I knew or had known kept invading and demeaning me, dehumanizing me. My psychiatrist, I don’t know if he really knows how bad it is.

I even woke up at 11 AM today (not comfortable sleeping! wahhH! I wanted cozy cozy) like my nerves in my legs and body were wired, unpleasant, bathed in acid or something. People take on this life inside my mind, and then they are inside me. And it’s so unfair. I need it quiet, fuckers. I need it quiet.

I still feel really gross and dead right now. Movement takes extra energy, thought I wouldn’t call it fatigue. It’s just slime in my body.

I need some greater goals in life. Keep working, makea da money, buy my parents respective houses (one for mommy so she doesn’t has to live wif her abusive husband no more, one for daddy so he can heal his cracked dry underfeet skin on the beaches of Florida whenever he likes with just a walk away). Houses in Florida are rather cheap (compared to california, anyway), at least, so we are TRYING to buy something there but he dad keeps fucking stalling on the plan! What am I supposed to do! I can’t choose for him!

I just think about my family and how much I love them. My mom, my brothers, even dad I love in a strange way. He cares about me. In a strange way.

Thank you to the sparse few who read these posts. Or whatever it is you read. I guess. I don’t know why you like what I write but I do it because I do it. There’s no real reason for writing or blogging a personal blog. It’s simply to get out what needs to get out.

Am I a terrible person? For mere trash talk? As violent as it may “get” at times, it does no harm. And I get so paranoid that the police state is after me. Uhh, what police state? Isn’t biden like a soft puppy?

Well Presidents always profuse to hold up American civil liberties, I guess. WHether they do or not… might be a little more complicated.

I am scared of the law of unintended consequences, of course.

Fuck. I unfollowed some folks on here and now I”ll never find them again. It’s so hard to find a good blogger, it’s not easy. And I was scared b/c it sounded like they were yelling at me, when I read what they were writing. Can someone tell me I’m crazy?

As usual. Poop. Interrupting the blog post.

I love you, my family. I love what I do. It doesn’t show. This disease is amazing. It’s so weird that mental illnesses like schizophrenia and my variant really actually exist. It’s like, real. The world is a magical place, isn’t it.


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