When it is about time that you faced the real world aka my resignant capitalist desire of juss simply going on with my life, a couple of bruises on your leg are inevitable. they are not from physical injury but from cerebral exhaustion that droops and leaks down all the way to the tip of your toe, so it is a real deal when some dipshit at work is all about some mind game that totally throws you off you juss wanna wet fart away off to another planet. you wanna lash out your faithful manifesto you holily abide by but your oh-so-rightful resistance is merely reduced to the flaring of your nostrils because if you dont suck it up the world is going to suck you up……. but still i am constantly holding up my middle finger on the DL as an independent earthling w opinions. so once every one millionth seconds i actually fantasize and devise a grandiose resignation march out the door to never look back yet irl i am just a multi-faced introvert who doesnt put out
and i just want to list true facts on my feelings today which i know will end up being another 💩show. it’s tragic that i will never be articulate enough on what i thought made sense in my brain and when it comes to trying to unravel it in honest clearcut cogent words it actually never makes sense. i will always be this borderline awkward kid of ultimate ambiguity who can’t explain anything in korean but never easier in english either. its sad that nothing makes sense anymore. but maybe writing will help. visual language was never fucking easier anyways. not that writing was easy either. sometimes i empathize on the deepest level with memes more than anything…….!!
I’m still trying to come to terms with everything and it’s truly tragic that i can’t even build anything concrete but merely throw pathetic blobs of shit at things in the most pathetic attempt to construct and/or mend it where one slight blow would actually make everything come t,t,t,tumbling down. the other day I tried to put in words this simple imagery to kelsey about me trying to build a website with a miserable yet tolerable end result. but I got stuck and i felt slightly let down by myself having a hard time more and more explaining things.
so it’s tragic that that i can’t talk to my mom about the anger and rage that i feel about shit happening in the cosmos that clearly matters to me so much yet i am so horribly bad at explaining it. not that it would actually change my mom’s thoughts if i were any better. i’m afraid there will never come a day she will catch a glimpse at the kind of frustration coming from the privileged enlightenment she worked her ass off to give to me. and I might just annoy her for another good amount of time like forever? and this is why i never want to have kids b/c i have no courage to sacrifice myself for a replica of myself.. or anyone. I could make love to my replica though.