Sorry for the cuntfusion

I’ll just let it flow this time. I usually don’t know and oh wow overwhelming thoughts. Oh wow ouch ouch ouch ow.

Okay so. I posted on a schizoaffective reddit and it made me realize how much is going on in my life that I usually ignore. I thought having this blog would bring things to the forefront but even so things linger.

Fuck. Just because I’m thinking something doesn’t mean I have to write it down. Manners still exist, particularly in a semi-public space like the blogosphere or social media.

Many people don’t understand that, though…

I think of my father. How ridiculous and wasteful he is.

I think of my mother. How irritating and stupid she is.

I think of my brothers, how young and condescending they are. Arrogant, otherwise.

I think of this, and it flies to the roof, and one more time, it flies away. On the sparrow’s wing, like a razortooth or some sort of technology to be advanced my young. My young.

I don’t want to go there.

What am I saying again?

I need to clip my nails. It’s so annoying.

Self-care and healthy hygienic upkeep are probably the most annoying things I can think of. You have to WORK just to be alive comfortably. It’s total shit. It’s so unfair. I didn’t ask for my nails to grow out, or my skin to shed. This makes no sense. Just leave me alone. I want to rest in peace, yes, for long periods of time.

Fuck I don’t know what to say. Everything is useless. The first thing that comes to my mind is often dejecting. I don’t know why. I’m not a creative person, either. It’s not mind-blowing awesome, even if it is negative.

Mom and I–do you care? I don’t. It doesn’t matter that we went to a botanical garden today, because doing things doesn’t matter, because nothing matters.

I need to kill myself. This is ridiculous. And if you call the cops on me for saying that, I’m not your friend anymore.

Don’t worry, I’m not suicidal. But pussying out and saying that kills the excitement. Living on the edge releases more dopamine. Why would you suppress me so?

You fags.

Fuck you.

God I hate hating. I hate my decaf coffee addiction. I have to talk to an Indian chick from linkedin I’ve never met before about career transition because I guess it’s beneficial to me. I don’t want to do anything. I’m stuck on the data science homework and NO ONE’S going to help me, because the world is a horse fart.

Fuck shit up. Faggotry. I hate. And I hate more.

And I know that’s bad for the gay community, to use a word that refers to them pejoratively, but it’s so powerful in my mind I think it’s worth it. What is white trash? White trash I don’t mind. Any other negatives? I don’t want to talk about this. See, I’m losing my freedom again? See? It’s a police state. The effects are subtle but they’re there.

Faggots. White trash. Shit heads. Shit fucks. Fuck you. Corn job blow hole faggot ass rape ninny fuckers.

What else.

I give. I’m going home tomorrow. In the grave. Thank my wizard and me, for we’re married in with two kids. The idea is to lay low until then. Then we’ll be free forever in the cosmos.

But of course I don’t believe in space.

Fuck you.

God. I hate so much. I’m not a terrible person. You are. Why do people keep lying about this?

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