now here alone

confused. loquacious out of necessity.

been a long long time since i've written stuff here.

missed it i suppose.

well yeah i did miss it. no need to add the yada yada effect by saying i suppose.

i have missed it.

things have changed a bit for me, i have a car and a gf now. i've ranked them in the order of importance xd.

that's a joke. i can already hear the instagram comments crying about men being uncultivated goons.

i have a song to recommend. my angel by adrianne lenker. give it a try dear reader.

if you just somehow manage to cough up the noise in your ear... just let that accumulated goo of filth and anxiety and opinions of a thousand people bleed out of your ears and listen with freshness.

only then life acquires value. this has been pompous. but lemme have that. i'll grow into my regular modesty soon enough. perhaps i shouldnt tho.

i am so out of my comfort zone it is frankly amazing. ive had to run after a rat today. not run away. run after. why? cuz i am seeking a made up dead dream in a dead world.

ive got something so fucking large on my face that it makes me want to kill myself. but ive disassociated enough that its not so bad. but its very bad.

upon very deep examination, ive found that i am where i started.

its so hard to live. was it always this way? no way this comes with adulthood. if every adult i see on the street passing me by lives the way i do. then holy fucking shit. the extermination of the human race would be a merciful act cuz the world would be delivered from an immeasurable amount of suffering. wanna hear a joke, i say, trying to lighten the mood after dumping the dumpiest dump on you.

my only solace is mitski right now. not even fucking kidding. the large thing on my face is getting exponentially big and i am getting proportionally small. i was talking with a friend about how fucked we are. and here i cant stop thinking that id like to fuck her. LOL god i crack myself up. i heard somewhere that kafka used to laugh so hard while writing his stories that the neighbors would complain. HE IS ME. like the meme you know. you wont know if youre a boomer. but then again you wouldnt know what boomer means either so youre lost already. id like to apologize here for not using apostrophes dear boomer.

no but seriously i kinda like her. well do i though? you know in the end i think i am just a man and as a man maybe all i need is youth, slimness, a decent face and a personality that isnt the equivalent of warm beer. she fits these criteria so i can fall in love with her????? i guess. lemme give it a shot.

nope. but id still like to fuck her and more importantly id like her to love me. (gayyyy xd) but this is all irrelevant cause i wanted to talk about something else and this was a 3 paragraph digression. we talked about mitski and i wanted her to listen to i bet on losing dog's live performance on yt and she suggested some songs from mitski and i was about to send her a link to the song like 10 minutes ago and i stopped myself. why?

cuz i think im bothering her. cuz my brain makes me think im bothering her. i know that isnt the case. i know she enjoys talking with me. would you text someone until 6 am if you didnt like them. and she is caring. even if i was a little too needy or pushy or whatevery she woulda just bared with it. cuz she knows im a simpleton who i guess probably means well :D -_– but i didnt send her the link.

its just hard to act normal you know. hard to act in a way so that your brain wont judge you. but it finds something regardless. look up aea sessions thats the video im talking about. its a terrific performance imo. thats short for in my opinion boomer.

i ended the previous article with a flcl reference so ill continue doing that.

Watermelon...or like a panda with a mean face or like sandals with pressure points drawn on them or the smell of a blackboard eraser or a Sunday morning where you wake up, and it's raining. Well, I like him more than hard bread.

things haven't been right for a long time. there's this noise i hear, this buzzing that's killing me from within. this noise is criticizing and trivializing everything.

i personally would not keep reading anything that started with a paragraph like that. or maybe i would. i probably would if i didnt sense vanity from the writer. because the vanity i sense frustrates me. (cuz i lack it most likely) and if i didnt sense the vanity i would read for another paragraph and by the end of this paragraph i would deem them to be artistically and spiritually mediocre. i would insincerely wish for their wellness and wish that my wish could be sincere.

it would make me also kind of mad that there are other people who are going through similar things as me. how could I feel special if there is goddamn psychiatric literature on everything? and if i cant then how could i tolerate this misery and pain which has no purpose, no benefit, no reason? winks to sky but the wink gets lost in the outer space before finding it's target because the target is a goddamn tale

im gonna be repetitive because life is repetitive. ive a handful of unsolvable problems that hurt like a pebble in a shoe. consistent, disturbing and eventually intolerable.

ive realized recently that ive started disassociating really hard. i catch myself being unresponsive to things around me that would've triggered me this or that way in the past. is it a coping mechanism for the times when i felt i couldnt change anything so i started adopting this passive position or is it a coping mechanism because im really fucking miserable and i cant stand the reality of my situation for more than a handful of minutes everyday? so i have to kind of intrinsically numb myself?

holy shit this has been a pleasant article hasnt it?

Nothing amazing ever happens here

listening to i bet on losing dog's live performance.

exam tomorrow.

but all i can think of right now is i would like to know someone with whom i really really really really wouldn't have to pretend.

no way i could be that way around the girl in my past who is now deified beyond belief. my little deity. asked me what i was listening to. blushed when i held her face in my hands.

exam tomorrow.

haven't studied that well. was depressed. actually.

went to a therapist. a mediocre one. would do me better to learn piano.

then i realized. what a realization it is!

duh, will say the reader.

duh, indeed.

i've realized that thinking and figuring things out and talking and discussing and being one with your feelings and all and every fucking advice that you hear whichever way is bullshit. i've realized that some things can not be achieved on a conceptual plane. i've learned that there are other ways of knowledge. some knowledge you can't learn in your head.


i've learned to kick depression in the teeth. absolutely blast the galaxy out of it. then get a liver punch so bad i spend the day in bed. then we go on roughing each other out. for how long?

i have an exam tomorrow.

an elaborate plan is in place. to cheat. ourselves.

but we feel justified because what is ever fair?


tell your baby that i'm your baby.

cuz i need to return to you.

i need to return to a world where i didn't have to try to believe i don't need to return anywhere.

i need your head on my shoulder.

i need you under the redness.

i need you to undress.

i need you to stress

how much you wanted things to be different

i bet on losing dogs.

how to love someone and not get lost in their darkness how to suffer and not get crumbled

there is this buddhist idea where all that you feel is simply a potion of energy running through your mind and body. and you if you practice enough you realize that this energy can not possibly have a say in your decisions. because so what if i feel a certain way?

and if you practive even more you realize that this energy dissipates fairly quickly. even the strongest hatred, if you dont remind yourself of the reasons why you have all the right to be hateful, just fades away in a matter of minutes.

this is true for the fieriest lust this is true for the deadliest loss

so is this what one should do? how is this any different than simply being numb? (if you are expecting a solution by the end of this post, dont. sorry. i have only the questions.)

its fascinating that we are capable of pulling this off. you can train your mind to such a point that the biggest, most crippling loss of your life may become a trivial event.

is this really wisdom? but what else do we have? should we simply suffer and burn away in misery when life hits us? should we let the sadness take us away? should we resist it?

i am terrified of resisting it and terrified of living it.

i feel like im already number (which one – hehe) than i used to be. cant decide if this is simply growing up or im actually getting stale. it for sure feels like im getting stale. the bread you forgot to wrap up. dry on the outside dry on the inside. the songs that would make me bawl my eyes out are just “tunes” now. well, it may just be because im depressed lol.

this post's tune shall be pitseleh by elliott smith.

the silent kid is looking down the barrel to make the noise that I've kept so quiet


strings of an instrument unknown vibrating through cheap stereo. the stereo which paid for one brush of bezos's toothbrush. irrelevant but true.

so much to say maybe some will be said here

#1 now here alone