biscuit's dreaming; clouds above its head

23/02 Mon + 23/02/26 Tues | gunk + ink toner   cleaned out the disgusting yellow liquid that accumulated at the bottom of the fridge. i feel like throwing up. i have lite germaphobic tendencies. my stomach is CHURNING! What the fuck is wrong with this fridge? i realize i probably shouldnt leave the broccoli in the fridge in an area where the bleach fumes can reach it. today i'm playing catch up with my responsibilities while still sort of easing in. its a soft working day. tonight i plan to walk around and write lyrics. this week will be a little bit busy. work starts and i'll have to start recording my hours down again, decide on an office space. i wanted to take another professional staff photo with my blonde hair but i can't remember how i booked the services last time and besides i'm not very pleased with how i look at the moment weight-wise. starting my grueling two meals a day routine as well - everybody's doing it, its normal! cereal at 11am, broccoli, sausag...

    22/02/26, Sun | Off the Interislander i want to sort of revive this blog as a sort of grounds for infrequent journalling. this may just be like a halfhearted impulse after just finishing reading laura jane grace's autobiography - I want to leave a trail of momentary records in the chance I forget what kind of person I am! I won't let myself forget the perverse, bitter and passive aggressive thoughts that make up myself - moments of joy also permitted. I thought of physical journalling as a first instinct - I've only ever filled a small little book with a leather cover - which I believe I reserved most often for shitty sketches - many self portraits in pen. some drawings from said journal are archived in a previous post I believe. I don't really actually like writing with pen. My handwriting - chicken scratch and scrawl. I then remember I have this site, and the convenience of a keyboard. So I sacrifice a bit of privacy - the only course of corrections I must steer m...

scream out to the valley that things are fucked and unfair poking burn spots with the fag against my ingrown hairs in-between the sealed up cuts on my arms that start to glow red as my body starts to rise in temperature strike like matches you can wake up early in the morning when you have a good reason to need to the landscape scales steeply, with it's contours holding it's insides like an empty bowl the hill is too sloped to jump off of reminds me of back home take too many parts apart, have to reattach a few come back home to the last night I spend with you your things are being put in a box and your things will be moving in soon too many things being taken out too much things moved to one room the death stairs eyes it's next victim the flowers coming into bloom about twenty or so days until I see you days getting longer, things not getting any worse things not getting any better. things not getting less hurt thistles caressing my legs, sun missing my eyes god knows god...

what's another tranny in a hole extol virtue expectance must fight for acceptance liberation only gained when liberation is for all but i keep myself locked upppppp heads will roll your own respirator first in emergency others second urgency worst at the first step its because i got a death wish i try to avoid anyone that comes too close youd think reflexes from a soulslike i've never played the game the adversity of avoiding your death is too tiresome what's another tranny in a hole my mind wanders from its source heads will roll what's another tranny in a hole what's another tranny in a hole one more number and one more body to prop up in disdain disgust, pity, fear, a little head served on a pike for you to wave in faces detached from the rot and lack of warmth and the flaking skin, you can't smell anything coming from a 5-6 inch LED screen. observe the processes of objectification, statistic stratification. you can shove your whole arm up my ass and through ...

 i think I'm gonna write more This stuff more like diary entries maybe When I wanna write I'll write I used to write in overly too questioning of a way I need to decide  I need to stop questioning and writing things with an open end I think I need to stop that even if I end up not writing things coherently I need to finish my sentences  And I think I need to write my next pieces making a conscious effort to do this  I need to write with a curious innocence  But I worry that I never really wrote with that sort of curious innocence and Okayness with making mistakes I need to be okay with not making sense right now I need to address that my mind and body are atrophying  I need to figure an approach I need to abandon words like maybe, I think, I should, I want to abandon the future tense being my dominant mode of thinking I've learnt so many lessons without application  Not abandon entirely I think there's given circumstances in which the future tense I dr...

11:50pm two glasses of grapefruit juice earlier that night - perhaps 500ml - they were tall insuffulated - it must've been 100mg i was on my computer, doing god knows what. i think it was important because i was panicking because when everything started getting heavy - i needed to get to my bed under the blankets - i was going to bed.  BLACK SHEPHERDS TONE the world broke apart -  it looked like datamoshing in violent color what the fuck, that has NEVER happened what the fuck????? The world went on forever One single static frame Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name there was a cruel revelation that everything i had ever done was fake for forever, nothing was real - my entire life was fake i lost my body and there was nothing but black my eyes were wide open, and there was nothing but black and a falling sensation that's what i always imagined death was i died??? am i died??? how long was i falling? I WAS THERE FOREVER I WAS THERE FOREVER I WAS THERE FOREVER ...