this world is not for us

loli - nous non plus

- Everyone who knows about this probably knows about this; but people who don't know about it should?

clos: this gets a C+ for NSFW-ness.

- I am becoming a less careful reader/writer. dyslexias/dismorphias shining? I don't know. Probably the lack of sleep.

On frustration and milkshakes

And when I hit a wall, I find I strike mostly brutally out at myself. My frustration-induced appetite for destruction seems only to be satiated by an attack at the heart of me. As if a punishment for having to seep down into that lowly mortal emotion of frustration; I'm rubbing my own face in it. "You've failed and are failing; here, have some more fail."

And so I eat a hamburger, or drink a milkshake. I wallow in the failure and proceed to feeling guilty; hating myself for the whole cycle, repeated once again.

Maybe I should just get a milkshake when I want one and not when I feel like I've failed at something? Am I creating a positive feedback loop for failure? Subconscious wants a milkshake but won't tell conscious b/c knows conscious will rationally will the desire away. Subconscious takes matters into its own hands and triggers frustration to induce feelings of failure. Subconscious gets the milkshake.

Or maybe I just like a milkshake after I fail at something because it makes me feel better? A little bit of store bought happiness; for a bit?

Anyhow, I gotta cut it out. All these milkshakes, awesome steaks, and cupcakes are starting to make my heart hurt.

note to self

Ate a chorizo and papas taco from tacodeli this morning and now my stomach doesn't feel so hot. The constant praise tacodeli receives inclines me to blame my stomach rather than tacodeli.

But riddle me this: tacodeli, can you do no wrong?

And I skipped class this morning! Which in retrospect was a good idea. H's piercing eyes and probing questions make me throw up in my mouth a little already; can't imagine what would happen in my current condition.

it's a celebration - rabbit hole day 2009

Today started rather oddly.

As I reached under my pillow for breakfast, my feet began to sink through the floor again. I didn't let it bother me too much. I grabbed hold of the banana just as it began to bloom.

Falling faster through the floor, I hugged the radiating fruit close to my chest; its hot-light beginning to engulf my field of vision. Two meandering cats stumbled by and paused to watch a cohort of five of my fingers grasp clumsily at a last bit of carpet. They reflected on Voltaire and the Holy Roman Empire. The left pinky finger detected the rumblings of an oncoming altercation as it whispered goodbye to the carpet.

The light has engulfed me now. Angels and angelic visions dive to and through me. My atoms start to wrap themselves around me or whatever unifying features are left. They're speaking Spanish, these atoms. And one surly fellow demands a refund.

The pressure on your elbows demands your attention. You can feel it creep up your forearms and nestle in around your wrists.