07_02_26

Interpretation of Here comes everybody. 

And it's like,
I can hardly feel any form of happiness, and
Nothing feels real, it's like, everything's out of place
And, who was it who talked about this?
Maybe I should've payed attention in philosophy class
But I was busy cuddling my friend whilst peering out the window with my looking glass 
We saw the manhole open, and from it crawled the ants
Then marched the bruins and ways, and now,
Here come the rats.

Retelling of today, and only today, for I have not yet lived tomorrow, and the past is being memoryholed in present happenstance. 

I walked down in complete opposite to my rutushyual soute and got myasmelf some surgeries. "Black cake" $ "Middleman's moon" $ "Guardian angel" $ "Next Year's Snow" amongst any (hoetel (landlineless))otherians. Landed=:"the job"(although of course Life is not a game, and Life is being capitalized as though it were Of a god, because, it is, but rather: Life IS A misryaro-dio-weak/wiki/weakling/trudgingthroughthemud(bleedingthruthenose)-DIORAMA OF SENSIBILITY WHERE YOUR BIGGEST CROWDIEST ROUDIEST YELL YELL YELL, MY-MUSTbeguidedbythecapital,whichcommandsitsothat$$theanchorofcapitalcommandsitsothat$$theanchorofcapital-uuughghhh...-YOU-YELL, OBJECTIVE IS TO BECOME A SYMBOL OF RESPECT AND INNTURNNE the ELITEENS FAVORITE PASTIME) by which I simply, simply, simply, simply mean I showed up to #RepresentOnSomeBitches down the allwayhighway of eternal elitinfant sensibilia. Had to pretend there was none of that Miseralia! A girl came up to me and asked if I was a ghost. A boy came up to me and asked if I was a woman. I could not answer either question by the time their teachers called to slip them out of such a fishy situation. $$ In alluding to earlier_wheniwaswalking ) still though to clarify in this stillborn Life that it does not hurt to be A**** in usual seasons, but THIS SEASON, it did, it does, it will (Even if I supposedly don't know what The future holds, I can gander and peek and prod at a guess or two or... or... I'm running out of breath. Let's take a stop, let's cruise down, I want coffee, I want soup, this girl... wants soup.) and it seems like it will never end. Tragedy. Miseralia. (_, I spent some time out there imagining I was walking along with my real friend, who in this context was merely imaginario. I know he's real because I've talked to him! I've seen the time it takes for him to type, I've heard the music he's sent my way, I talk about him (isn't that scary?), I think about him when he isn'(t)here (isn't that even scarier?), I find myself inspired by his ways (isn't that horrifying and embarrassing, if not Sickeningly honest and sentimental?) Regaaarrgh(((il)lia)d)less, he wasn't real, neverthelessandmorehowmuchIargeuaboutit, but in a way neither am I, so really it's all okay and beautiful. And... I can't repeat myself anymore. $$ I'm cold. I'm really cold. In solitary I was looking at negative degrees today. It's harsh out there. Stay safe and warm.

Interpretation of Adventures in babysitting.

Bile and dog food
Worms that glow
There's a heaven in this here underground
(Fallen bodies cascade into the soundscape)
It wouldn't hurt to give it a try
(Rotten cronies long to give a try to these adventures!)

Fallen
Bodies
Fallen
Bodies
Fallen
Bodies
Fallen...

Well, I can think about the past now, so Here it comes.

Nobody can come dig up the bones. She's lying there all rotten and bizarre, stuck in her episcera. I remember how long we spent in the past whilst she made me listen to her Game of Thrones podcast. How sad I feel for her about that ending! I remember after she watched it she never felt the same again. I think I get it. But I'll never really know, for she isn't here anymore. She's lying there all rotten and obscure. I don't even know what hospital they keep her in anymore. I don't know if she's even, in any form or capacity or amount or..., material anymore. I think she's only purely solely inmaterially a star, and she brings warmth and love here, so it's okay, really, but she's also brought a ghost I knew closer to this weird brink, and now I think it's a star too, and, I just kind of miss when nobody was a star.

It was very cold "this"(* not to be addressed) morning. I found myself laying down by the insides of my mattresses as though I were a baby spider, naked in fear and drenched in the possibility of immediate death and disappearance of all that I love. I wonder if I've ever ruined the life of some insect I wasn't capable of getting to know. I think I'll go to hell over it. I don't know. I. I. I...
I ' m  l o s i n g  m y  m i n d !