fucking pinnochio is like having sex with a liar

Chauchat, Bill Callahan, Robert Schumann, Yo La Tengo, the white album, Sheila Heti, Galileo;

Try to live outside of this time especially
In it and Out of it
Inside and Outside
Write from the inside
Of the Outside

Buying too small sweatshirts second, thirdhand...

Leaves in the AIR! & I unobsessed with love
new love,
new wish
How do you get the future to tell you that it loves you back ?
(it isn't a matter of words,
even though Grad School Applications
might seem to say other-
wise)
But this is the Internet
and I can Claim my
Medium
I am, really, about medium height
medium build
I want to write an incredibly catchy song right now
& go walk down the street with this music playing in my ears
just to get a sense of freedom
from the Internet
Tomorrow I am going to call in sick from work
I am Sick
I am sicker thanna dowg
I miss writer's group because I miss being in love with ideas
I miss being love with ideas because I am disconnected from people
Because when your heart is a handhold for reasons you can't know
Because this song is a medium length song
Because I was rude to a therapist on the phone
Because going to NYC is scaring me
Because no I can't decide what kind of girl I am
And I can't apply for any jobs because I am
Such a poor, tattered soul

Holla Sheila Heti, who's mistype is "sould"
Mine is "live"
instead of "love"

And I wonder so

What does it mean to want to be ________________?

And I fell in love for a moment with a photograph on the wall of a model in Nebraska City.
And I can't imagine I could get an artists studio again, having filled the last with trash,
some smell that won't leave the air.
I like Sheila Heti ok?!
She at least can be honest.

I just listen to this darkly sad boy music and walk around in my mind.

Some people are great at making
plans.

Am I really going to accept this particular human plan?
Some people really want to have children.
Some thing stops me from challenging myself.

And then there is that other underlayer that is not nourishing. It is our fundamental privilege and now our collective realization of it and our collective dissociation from it.
And our collective buying power.

And our collective nausea.

I used to get so high and laugh so hard and the laugh I thought then was some sort of fractured scream that I'd been holding inside my body all of my life.

How do you get to these feelings, these thoughts?

I saw a little girl today walking with her mother into the grocery store. Her mother was pregnant and the girl was wearing a dance uniform. The mother's ankles were swollen and the girl had a strange raised growth on her arm.

I am sick.

I am sick.

I am sick of how I see the world.