a pretty (that was ref to last time but now orange is far more appropriate and please just le

 

DONE

I’m no Johnny-come-lately.  I know all about the Kelly Cahill case.  I know about a lot of crap I really shouldn’t.  I really shouldn’t eat all the ice cream.  I really shouldn’t.  my life is disposable crap.  I just said that out loud.  Anything bad in it is my fault though.  I’m shit so everything that comes from me is shit.  The drawings associated with that case as ever scare me.  Red eyes.  That’s interesting.  I can’t recall too many accounts with red eyes. 

I read a slim gory western in a day the other day and it was quite good and I quite enjoyed the experience.  I think very soon I will read another

BRUTAL FUCKING MURDER, I cried out with a Polish accent. 

Amarillo.  My God, I’d forgotten.  Please, let me one day make that right.  When I remembered that I’d forgotten I was looking out the window of a plane and starting down at an island near the west coast of costa rica.  Oh how I cried and threw fits back in the day.  That was the awful summer afterward, wasn’t it.  I hate you so much.  Well, it seems you’ve learned how to sign my name.  Gus Pike! Be careful of Gus Pike! Why am I the only one who’s happy? 

Sara again.  The temptress.  The seductress.  In my dreams the executrix.  Oh sweet denier.  Research. 

Along with this a new Ana Barbara video.  This makes me.  Oh God, everything.  Rituals have me.  And then realizing the other Barbara is from beyond.  Of course, I think as my head goes light, how utterly proper.  Being me is such an awful thing.  I so often don’t want to be me.  But I realize it is entirely my fault.  All these bad things are my fault.  Exquisite emptiness inside of me.  Vampiric in the future. 

You know what I’ve really been enjoying?  The Dirty Harry films! I have 1 left to watch but I find it to be a great and fascinating series.  Or do i?  the more I learn the less I want to know.  Might be fun to buy some wax today.  Might be fun to buy some coffee.  Giantess videos have me.  Vore has me.  No satisfaction from anything at this point.  Because I am empty inside.  Grey in my head now.  Yellow papers.  I’ve enjoyed some western books I’ve read recently.  Need to read more westerns.  Read a gory one the other week, complimented the author.  Head feels so bad.  Broken while on the way.  Big fucking broken machine.  Machinery has me.  Metal sculpture.  Rivers of molten metal.  Blood later on. 

Now so empty.  All my fault.  I am very very empty.  Gonna watch a vampire movie soon.  I was sitting inside but wishing I was outside.  I think.  Mysticism.  I scheduled something so unbelievably piss poorly today.  What a horse’s ass I am.  Yet still going through the pages was good.  Maybe wouldn’t have had chance for pages without piss poor planning.  Then I ate fish.  Raised the light.  Then I remembered from beyond.  How could I not realize from beyond.  I like that kind of thing although I can’t say for sure cause I really have no idea.  Disgraced now but I liked the one iteration with the deformed fruit and recurrent pink and magenta hues (asylym referencing).  Gonna hang out later but with little desire. 

Oh God it’s all so meaningless.  Nickel plated! Nickel plated!  I’m crying, no I was crying multiple times.  Just last night.  Yesterday afternoon to early evening.  It was all so tender.  So lovely and tender.  And now, knowing the truth I can see everything from a different light.  There’s still time, it’s not too late for me.  Looking right at me when those words appeared.  Floating in the water.  Tears always threatening to spill out.  Changes.  There’s still time.  So lovely and tender.  I am so incredibly sad.  I feel bad all the time.  My only source of comfort comes from imagining that I am dead.  I ate spaghetti last night. 

On the way was the second of the large collection. I felt emancipated.  Yes, it was so many years ago during the formative years with the Italian who was not an Italian.  That this purchase was made.  I still have it.  Broken off.  Always was.  Always loved.  Forgotten how much I love the second.  Lush. That is the description I would give.  Lush.  Maybe get wax at some point.  Overlooked?  Underrated?  Hard to say.  But some of that stuff is top top shelf.  Made me feel good for just a moment. 

And living water too of course.  Need to strip everything away except for the living water.  There’s still time ,it’s not too late form.  So lovely and tender.  But there are connections.  Need to rid myself of.  Too bad I can’t rid myself of myself.  If I could just rub it all out, starting with myself.   Borrowed jacket. Too much professionalism.  How could he ever have valued this?  Always confusing what is important.  And what’s inside the glass slows it all down.  Summer soon.  Need latin.  I feel so very sad.  Doesn’t really matter though.  Need to throw on my owl costume and say that nothing matters.  Because I have nothing to say.  That’s the most brutal realization.  Known it for a while though.  Put me in that old folks home and let me absolve others of their sins. 

Cran.  I like the color turquoise I think.  La la la la la la, la, la la la, la la la.  And then under that is the groove.  What would you do for a second chance with…. He wishes he could just start over.  But no fugue for me.  Isn’t that awful?  No matter how hard I could pretend I would still be me.  It would never work because I would still be me. 

I’m going to eat a soft baked breakfast bar.  I didn’t go to the grocery store yesterday.  It hurts to talk to people.  It hurts to see them.  I just feel so bad all the time.  I like to drink and go to sleep.  I wish I wasn’t so worthless.  Haha, isn’t that funny?  I laugh at my insipid melodrama.  I’m such a putrid person  I really fucking hate my pathetic worthless self.  I don’t have many good childhood memories.  But that doesn’t mitigate what a useless adult I am.  Or does it?  The more I learn the less I want to know.  No, it definitely doesn’t.  need to stop little star but can’t yet cause I am weak.  I don’t have the chops.  I can’t cut the mustard. 

The illusory construct.  Eva.  No, the illusory construct of Itsaso.  Is it all the same thing?  It must be for me.  She can comfort me.  She can see me and cry with me.  Hahaha, I’m such a loser.  I don’t actually deserve any of that.  But please, just leave me with those fleeting thoughts.