july 10: WHAT

-

WHAT!

have i suddenly forgotten every aspect that makes me a unique entity roaming the grounds? i'm responsible for withering away the seeded cement caked onto the streets. i erode a part of new york every time my foot marches forward. how i love a walkable city, yet my plumper exterior doesn't seem to support this! 

i'm always alluding to my appearance. the fear of obesity and regression has me tethered to a pole i hammered myself 4 years ago. they say you're likely to gain it all back after 5. it feels like my clock is ticking. maybe it's a facet of undiagnosed adhd, but my monkey brain must latch onto some sort of branch. when i grow content in neglecting my hobbies, and i cannot free my aggression through sex, the low hanging fruit of my expanding waistline becomes tantalizing comfort. like eve, my desires for a certain likeness feel forbidden.

yet i also feel resolved to love myself a little more each day. i stare longingly into my own reflection's eyes as though i'm both seductress and target. i must unknowingly know i'm sporting a real big sex face, lowering my iris to curve slightly underneath my eyelid and parting my lips just enough to fantasize the feeling of kissing myself. i think about how being a beautiful woman is currency and my humiliation of such a class divide. i yearn for a time where i could eat without fear it will poison me. 

there's a big bowl of candy at the office. to me, that thing is a call to power; it is temptation; it is war; it is dionysus; it is pleasure. i had 5 pieces of bullshit across my 7 hour workday today.

i wonder how marquez and dfw could stand the sounds of their own voices. i'm growing tired of thinking so much.

Popular posts from this blog

there's a stark difference between acknowledgement and action

-
sometimes, like other human beings on Earth, i feel a separation pulling my brain from my skull to float above the rest of my body. i'm entirely out of my own, almost like a birdseye lens on a camera. i am both a king and his jester. she looks like rot; haggard and vaporous. it's not necessarily contentment, unless that's synonymous with defeatedness.  there really isn't much that can be done here. so i just watch, marking a star on my calendar for Judgement day.
read this in its proper format, please

i'm scared of outgrowing things

-
i don't really quite understand the idea of letting things go. i can't believe i'm actually typing this out, but i would like to make a reference to a recent purchase of mine as metaphor for this topic. experiences in my life are kind of like a fresh pot of slime. if something feels so good to hold in my hands, i'd rather it actually just tack onto and directly cement to the skin of my palms, and i can center and accustom daily living around my new slimy hands even if i'm making a mess of things. i expect the body heat i radiate to keep the stuff pliable and useable for...ever. the longer it's in my possession, the worse i will feel if it were to dry out or be thrown away or confiscated for distracting my classmates who apparently got desensitized to bare shoulders. i guess this convoluted and terrible metaphor could be more intelligently explained with terminology we've all heard before-- sunken. cost. fallacy. sunken slime fallacy? slunken cost fallacy? su...
read this in its proper format, please

three months later

-
i haven't exactly shyed away from talking about this to anyone in real life, so i figured i'd take a crack at writing about it in my shielded bubble of a blog. if you're reading this, thank you for stopping by, even if the space seems small and subsequently intimate. sometimes, i feel like i'm indulgent. maybe incredibly so. my heightened emotional subjection clearly supports this claim, where little wins become triumphs and reality checks become devastations. despite the actual mundanity of my life, i tend to see the world as this grand, beautiful place where so much good is to be given and discovered and cherished. i look for the best in people and places and experiences. i'm rarely disappointed, but when it inevitably happens, it crushes me. not because something bad happened, but because i come to believe i deserved it. a moment where i spoke or held my tongue between my teeth has now cost me the right to give good and be good and receive good. i'm devastate...
read this in its proper format, please