gunk + ink toner

23/02 Mon + 23/02/26 Tues | gunk + ink toner

https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/561793068555042817/1475686789321719878/IMG20260223174011.jpg?ex=699e63eb&is=699d126b&hm=1beec58c65162be70bd5553a0977b51c102cec2f761d2244261dc10bd7a14c29 

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, sausage and an egg for dinner. maybe something inbetween as i plan to go to gym at 4pm.

my brain spikes itself with whatever hormone or chemical that indicates danger! or you've fucked up! when i say that - innocuous to most, creepy to the people of whom it matters most. you are lethargically, very lethargically walking across a tight rope of piano wire, and i'm not sure if you'll notice when your feet are bleeding.

 ///

it is a strange feeling sitting on this stool as if i were the little blond face of the group -- talking to me - poor idea, i am a wet blanket. there's things about being in a group i enjoy. being made to do menial work. make me print, make me set up the stall. i dont enjoy intellectual labor. i like being a little errand boy. im a piss poor missionary type. i can at best hand out flyers with complete lack of emotion.

i make an effort to catch eye contact with the numerous freshers swimming by in the cotton hallway. i stared daggers at a girl i went hiking with previously five months ago as she signed up with the socialist group opposite our stall. i was there when your goddamn feet blistered and popped on the return trip. you fucker, look at me. i know your name. look at me. sign up for this communist group instead. fuck you.

but i like being here, for as much i lack efficiency and charisma. i taught a couple new students how to use the printer today, and patiently waited as they fumbled about the club sign-up sheet over and over. for what little virtues i have, patience - probably my greatest. 

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