THE WRITER MUST EAT -> patreon.com/trn1ty <- blah! ideas with no tangibility; ideas with irrelevant supports; ideas without value; ideas' witlessness; ideas' witnesses; ideas- <^ 2024-04-15 Cyberpunk diet is low carb and high protein. I pray to Snoop Dogg that I may be forever high. Ecoterrorism is based. my money don't jiggle jiggle, it folds you wanna watch tv Batman: The Brave and the Bold Creeper? Aw man. So here's what I did today: [television static] I forgor skull I had some weed, had some beer, had some coffee, had a shit ton of ice cream. I've never in my life had beef stroganov or chicken salad and don't plan to. I feel like I'm melting between scenes. There are little disjointed bits of minutes when I look at the clock and then an hour later I don't understand how the time has passed. I can't tell when people are following what I'm saying. I can't tell when what I'm saying is coherent. It's like there's a timing issue, or a race condition, or some difficult error in my brain it's impossible for me to debug. It's like trying to fix typos without being able to see the text being corrected. I hear people talking when they aren't and can't hear a fucking thing when they are. Driftveil City Theme. I think everyone around me despises me. I don't think there's any amount of sleep that will make me feel well rested or any amount of rest that will make me stop feeling like I have white hot needles coursing through my veins and every beat of my heart is just ticking further along until I drop dead at 27. "Trinity, this book says the revolution starts when you go on a walk." The best word to describe me right now is scattered. mi pakala I can't go grocery shopping on my own because I float through aisles, backtrack, jog from one section to the next with my basket when the synapses fire in the order that finally tells me what I need. I linger in the hardware section, flow through bread, liquor, snacks, get caught up in the asian foods section, go back to somewhere to find sriracha. The knives talk to me - really! I like to look at my reflection in the stainless steel before continuing onward after finding the kitchen timer I wanted. Are they real? Are their words? Does it matter? The Atari 2600 has 128B of memory which is more than I could keep on the top of my head. Sometimes I make a choice and it doesn't matter whether the direction is followed or not because I will meet the same future either way. Half my friends came from hell, half are heading there. Scattered. In amongst the ranting and raving everyone's dragging through my head, if you talked to me you might even think I was normal. Prey animals don't show they're wounded. Perhaps even I'm alright, just a little funky wunky. You know I'm always full of loosely connected non sequiters, thinly explained relevances. I've seen every Tarantino movie (except Natural Born Killers - does that count?). 2024-04-14 [mi] [wile] [e] [ni]: [sina][moli][e] [mi] [o] [moli] [e] [mi], [wile] [awen][ala] [lon] [ni] [mi] [wile] [moli], [mi] [wile][moli] [mi] [wile] [moli], [moli] [e] [mi] [mi] [en] [moli] [mi], [mi] [en] [moli][mi] [li] [kulupu][mi], [mi] [wile][e] [ni] [pini][mi] [la], [tenpo][li] [suli] [pini][mi] [li], [suwi] [ala] [lili] [pini][mi] [la], [mi] [pali][e] [ni]: [loje][jan] [insa], [pi ali mi] <^ No rights reserved, all rights exercised, rights turned to lefts, left in this corner of the web.