I guess this is… ‘shitposting,’ then. ? o_O

I’m in a lot of psychological / neurological pain as I write this. My neurotransmitters, brain chemicals, are really out of whack / imbalanced. Imba imba imba rebalance the game plz.

Chaaaaaaaaaaaat.

Be nice.

What did I mean to say.

Oh ya.

Nothing.

No surprises there.

Sorry for hurting your feelings.

And.

Just surviving.

The act of being alive.

Is work and is rewarded.

Things move forward.

So just hang tight.

Fuck I just wanted to say “It’ll get better!” like that preachy phrase that everyone says. I’m fucked. I’m a B-tard. I’m one of the positivists now.

Shoot me in the head gosh darn it. I’m useless.

Well anyway.

Mapping the fourth dimension by Laura (Davies) Foley is a great book of poetry. She has some other bangers, too.

I’m currently advertising my first book on Amazon. I don’t know how effective it will be. I don’t know that I’ve sold anything yet. Maybe the description is terrible. Well, I mean, I know it is, but I can’t think of any way to summarize the book. I WROTE it, gosh darn it, I should know better than anyone else. But maybe my lens is blurred from standing too close, so to speak.

Hmm.

Ahmm.

Y’know?

Tired.

But chugging on.

I’m annoying hahahahahhahah.

Okay so.

Going to Italy in a month with family on facation.

Fshaw.

Annnnnnd.

Tight.

That’s it.

I’m nervous about the airplane flight but I’ll probably max out on hydroxyzine and just pass out.

Sigh. I wish there were a better way. Like if I could actually read for long periods of time consecutively / in a row. I wish I had that attention span. I have so many questions for the neurotypical type. Like, does reading require effort? How much? When does the pleasure kick in? I’ve read entire books with no reward from my brain, innately. It’s odd.

And so many tell me I’m just picky.

But, I mean, at some point you’re so picky that it’s indistinguishable from just having ADHD problems.

=/

Bleh.

Who knows.

My mental models of people

Are

WRONG.

The delusions imprint themselves in me

so deeply…

I treated them as real for so long

Like I met you on the internet

Now I can predict your response

Microresponse

es

and

I hear you when I write

You’re in me.

Oh hott.

Fuck that jizz.

No don’t. plz. lol

PrudeNTIAL.

herrrhrrhrhrhr.

grindy.

wellhammer.

So lokken.

So.

Am I in less pain now? Yes a little. Maybe writing helps. it’s certainly my preferred way of wriggling writhing and struggling.

Huzzah.

There’s so much crap I don’t want to talk about but it just blurts out.

No one’s going to trust me until I can hold it.

Until I have it cool glued tight.

Yeah I’m a lost cause.

Sigh.

The delusions tell me so.

How much coffee do I need, really. Decaf, that is.

What’s the convention? Do you call it coffee still or just opt for decaf as the term?

I think you say decaf.

Upon examination I think that’s the right way to say it.

The internet is a painful place.

So much nothing.

No culture.

No entertainment.

Just. Designed for small pea brain type.

Sadge.

:(

But let’s end on a good note.

I’m a shisty feisty faustian netolokker in disguise.

And so are you.

What is the word or appropriate sociopsychological term for what I’m doing right now? “Shitposting”?

Is… that really it?

O_o

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