sometimes your day job can’t always be supportive of your lifestyle. I would get a studio and revel in some rigorous making or just throw a small intimate karaoke party with my friends and project Teen Witch on the studio wall afterward to deal with the toxic mental residue from work, only if i could afford a studio. But my entitlement doesnt go that far, so you just gotta suck it up, tighten up, and then relax, repetitively and constantly, possibly 5ever.
my mom is a self-acclaimed kegel master and she was spreading the word very hard to me and my sister. if you could take control of the gush of fluid in the middle of urination that would be the ultimate feeling of accomplishment very much in that short easy moment as if you’d render yourself into God.
for some time now i sucked it up, tightened up, but never let go. After all, i was a fearful victim to a toxic manipulative gaslighting workplace mental abuse that was actually more real, piercingly real than i’d ever expected that it didn’t fucking feel real anymore. so i pooped, got expelled, and finally felt relief for the first time in a long while. good god, it feels great.
last week i went spinning and treadled so fierce i was spouting sweat like crazy and i knew in that moment that i was going thru some real shit. arduously and intensively i was truly relaxing
my right boob used to hurt. and one night i was crying through all pores of my body and had to wake up 1000+ times to urinate after a sadistic sitcom series of nightmares where i was back at the most ruthless and merciless workplace and i wasn’t the one with the whip hand. it is intolerable when i am not the one whipping at myself if i were ever to get whipped. one never knows what enraged urination can result in, but the next thing i know i blew up the toilet and there were cracks and unbridled valves just kept on pouring and splattering shit water at me and it was just not my night. but you still gotta feel grateful for the buff pee tube that you possess!! And as if the woeful urine were the clot of flem that had slowly yet painfully agonized you by calling up the memories from the 💩hole workplace, i got the greatest deepest sleep afterward. that was also when i realized that i didn’t have to deal with the worst shitfucks anymore, at least for now! and my whole body started feeling slightly peaceful but of course not completely because still the world does not treat me as much as i deserve. i can always blow up the toilet and possibly skyrocket myself to the saturn, where i’d throw my funeral for my corporeal flesh and choose to be forever be immortal with my spirit
I used to think I would be an amazing painter. what makes a person an amazing painter?
I am a new millennial child. I can be alone for a long time just fine, without any company, as long as I have my computer and my keyboard. Haven and I once had a conversation a season ago when we went to the farm beach in the slapping freezing weather. We had gloves yet she wanted a situated selfie of herself so one of my hands had to be vulnerable to the slappin swooshing wind that battered me like crazy but i care about my friend’s self promotion so i did my best to get the best photo of her and boy am I philanthropic! and somehow thanks to the piercing coldness of course i became very aware of my physicality and started thinking about my bodily extension and realized that my keyboard is actually a very probable extension of my body with the possibility of my used white acura* becoming a new extension (*who is probably now in the junkyard heaven rest in power💪) .
life is tiring but I still appreciate little moments i partake in including but not limited to ordering an 18″ pizza all to myself and realizing what privilege I actually have!
so I still want to be a superstar and/or an amazing well-to-do person (possibly a mogul?)