Technically the only legal politician in the U.S. is an atheist one b/c of the law that dictates separation of church && state.
So genocide all Christians in the U.S. They’ll be fine, they’ll go to heaven.
I’ll be fine, hell doesn’t exist. So at least a problem will have been solved.
HOWEVER, this is not reality: most politicians ARE religious. That just proves how corrupt this fucking country is.
Fuck you, die, commit suicide, shoot yrself w/a gun, set yrself on fire, etc., etc., etc….
Some religious trash in the neighborhood is attacking me (verbal harassment) from the playground nearby, or from the “comfort” of their home.
An atheist (a reasonable person) sort of is more pleasant to talk to, but the physics behind the acoustics is still a mystery to me.
I intend to double my monthly donation to the American Atheists assn as well as the Audubon Society.
So there’s that.
Keep it, peeps.
Neo was really good @ MATLAB.
I really want to meet people, too. But I’m so fucking exhausted. && social media is a tough pill to swallow, for my dignity.
Is it strange?
I don’t know. I just want to be better. I want to feel better, not as bad. I want to be more responsible. I want things to be easier, less hard. Except I guess when you’re doing like work type stuff–and even then, I often am confronted w/an impossible wall. There’s a difference between challenge && overload.
Yeah. So, like, if you think this, do that; && vice versa.
So why would it reason? What are the metrics for tax season?
…
I don’t like much personal history. But I’m finally starting to move on, re-stabilize, && see what I should be doing to push humanity’s envelope.
I would like to be more stable. This SSRI was not good for my panic. I think it didn’t make it any better, but maybe it taught me enough to deal w/it on my own (the panic, not the SSRI–the latter I’m decreasing w/my psychochiatrist).
I’m really enthused about switching from science to engineering. I will be have to learn a lot more basics && network like hell to find a decent job, but everyone needs a home away from home.
So anyway.
I don’t really know what to say. Everything has been at a loss for so long. I guess some people are genuinely scared of writing, sort of like how I am genuinely scared of trying new things before I’m ready to.
I love writing. It’s such a rich medium. && I’m learning some foreign languages (mostly French), and learning new American English vocab words, so hopefully my ability to express myself naturally improves.
I’m glad interesting people still exist, too. There were some folks in the neighborhood I heard, and there was some like, I think they know me or at least know of me, and I was listening to them sort of drink whiskey and enjoy some weed (is there any dignified term for that drug?), slowly. And it was slow, and nice. And I felt involved, even though I was just at my desk in my room (is it immature to have a “my room”?), and it was a shared moment, despite the separation. We were “on the same wavelength”–and they were sort of shadowy, so I don’t even know if they were hallucinations or not. I have a mental illness so either thing is completely possible.
NEWEIGH.
What do you think?
I’m trying to be better.
Do better.
Taste better(?).
I don’t really know what any of this means.
But it’s decent to sort of, have comfort. Comfort is super-important. Adventure is also very important. I need both of these things just a tad more, to put it bluntly, in my life, to have a fulfilling remainder of my late 30s.
Age is such an illusory concept, too. You feel young, you are old–you are young, you feel old.
I don’t know.
Thanks for reading.
Let’s SPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED it up a bit.
I don’t really know what I want to do right now.
I get a lot done, and Saturday is a good reset.
But my headspace has been small for a while, and I’m going to dedicate an hour a day ex-Sat to the creative arts: namely, poetry && photography.
My therapist recommended games to me instead of art, but she’s fat, middle-aged, crude, and brainless.
I don’t want to say the word “former drug user”. Yes, that is one word.
What else kud it be?
…
I’m so smart.
Holy fuck I’m smart.
…
I don’t know what to say.
Thanks for reading.
(This was wholly unsatisfactory).
As Steam destroys the computer game industry, soul-by-soul.
Right…
…
The neighbors are very sensitive.
I do yin yoga, and I’m going to go for a weekly hike-walk (it’s in between) and after the walk, do my weightlifting. Or one. Or the other.
Cop sirens nearby, in the distance, frequently. About 3 times a day.
I guess California is a “combat state”.
Not to be confused w/Combat Baby by Metric.
…
I frequently doubt my utility as a family member. But I think that is external influence, not my family hating me.
…
Too many implications. I suppose in educated environments, inferential logic probably is appreciated andorneverwelcomes welcomed.
What kud it be?
…
I give up.
This was wholly unsatisfactory.
Hey fuck you.
You shit. Fuck you. You shiiiiiit.
What a fuck. You are such a fuck.
Hey eat shit
I don’t know what to say.
This is fusked.
What the shut.
Danm.
…
I don’t know why I have to do anything.
No one explains anything anymore.
There is not genuine motivation in me.
Hopefully the brain cells that the ssri/antipsychotics burned away can regrow.
…
Yeah, parents, parents, parents, PARENTS.
Brothers, BROTHERS.
Fuck.
No one no where why with what this at station crawdad.
…
Shit fuck you.
…
Sorry.
…
Fuck off.
…
Sorry.
…
I don’t know what else. I feel stuck.
I wonder when the next health-risking government interaction will be.
Social security @ its finest.
…
Fuck shit ass nigger (but I’m not sure (this time? (why?))).
Fuck.
I give up.
Have you RECONSIDERED?