25
07
28

back to traveling in my lonesome. the moral ping-pong of spiritual entities weighing on my shoulders drowning out any thoughts i intend to have.

another weekend spent in place. as a cultural hub it's definitely somewhat interesting to go there every week.. but in the end it's just a type of osmosis.. i get to enjoy my friends and remind them of my existence, but how much of that matters? how much did it matter that i spent time in those voice calls, how much do the people i've spent so many countless hours with actually desire to see me again, or does the comfort of simply having a more constant relationship motivate repeated engagement alone?

i turned down name from following me to the main station [1].

i will write less in past tense.

i don't necessarily have an explanation as to why i had turned him down. a sort of discomfort filled my lungs when i forced upon him a few minutes of videos. why do i think myself privy to cuteness alone? why does it make me uncomfortable when someone seeks closeness from me in a way that i recognize as something "reserved to myself?" it's not as though- well, i am cuter. i am prettier, is that what disgusts me? i know how hot i am, and the reason why i'm utterly disgusted by crushes, by love is that i recognize a type of envy?? that it's only through envy that someone could arrive at a point where they force themselves to do things at my command? seemingly. everyone wants to fuck and control me, because they wished they were me, they wished they'd have the gall to fuck their life up to my degree.

it's the first time i've attended an event which was shut down by the cops. sure didn't think much of it, contrast that with what she thought of me positing her fleeting mind and willingness to switch to something she sees instead of answering a direct question as: "deflection". utterly confused, name attempted to help her out via an elaboration: "it's a maneuver". it's kind of strange playing the problematic bitch in that sort of community, i don't know if i'm returning sentiments that they actively tried to minimize or if i'm at all novel.. sometimes certain 4chan-level slurs for myself come to mind, in a sense i don't know whether or not i'm quite queer enough still, maybe the reason i play that sort of pragmatism in that group is simply because of my need to downplay a childish sense of gay identity, and so long as i revel in the grime and disgust of reality, i'm the only one comfortable.

"LOOK HERE MA, I'VE SHOCKED MY QUEER FRIENDS! IN THAT SHOCK THAT I CAUSED I GET TO BE THEIR SAVIOR AND THEIR GOD"

arriving from place i managed to actually reduce how much i've been hedging. i've reduced my disgust of repetition, i've come to terms with determining the world for myself TO A DEGREE (kill yourself). i hedge as a tick, i don't think of it. i know i do it and it requires active effort for me to lie. i will weave narratives that change my life, that let me explore just how much more envious i may make those that love me.

what the fuck is love supposed to be for me anymore? sure, i'll actually write that fucking garbage, i'm upset. it doesn't mean that i'll actually arrive at an answer, but that discussion with name from the event that was shut down, or rather i think that might have been name, i elaborated that if i've made someone a whale, a title, i don't consider that to be an actual friendship, it's a purely transactional relationship, that i am no better than a gutterslut considering i will exchange favors for goods, services, and currency. but that my customers enjoy with what directness they're faced with when spending time with me.

i can't keep eroding relationships i have with people i want to consider friends. i can't keep eluding myself of love when it's said to be easy to share and give, i've transformed into a being unloveable, since my aformentioned conception makes "love" imperceptible to me, in favor of envy, sin, and grime.

i've managed to make it impossible for name to join any event i have with the organization girls, since he's practically too cis, and it'll appear as though i've brought one of these title to one of these events.. WHAT DOES HE WANT THERE? he's so quick to include himself in events, i have no idea what he would do at.. meeting people is fun, but then just find- is it necessary to make people uncomfortable to make proper connections? am i paranoid again? i might be acting like a prey animal again and it fucking sucks, i can choose what happens for myself.

i'm struck with guilt.
maybe it's that.
gareth opposing sid the squire when he was told that maybe his strange feeling
was the result of guilt has become me.
is that generally how i work?

let me admit my sins, oh great one. i have too many a lover, i can pick on a range whom i have investments in and there are discreptancies in how much of my life is given to each of them and how much of my life i hope they own. these people won't allow me to differenciate parts of my life. they don't allow me to take certain decisions in isolation, they force me to take into account time i've spent manipulating them into enjoying my company, even desiring it.

i've made friendships. that's all the moral understanding i have when someone lets me abuse. "i'm just abuse" 'tis something the high class are allowed to do, they do it to spend time with people, not because they would otherwise be exposed to an environment they avoid. is this where people use crutches?

why do i think that most established queer/left understandings of abuse as crutches? why do i invalidate medical diagnoses, what makes me regard self-diagnosis as nonsense, why do i don't believe that trauma is ever quite a sufficient motivation? isn't it hateful, why can't i simply love those people for who they are, recognize their suffering for a shared quality?

STOP ASKING FUCKING QUESTIONS.

nurture, mine is generally regarded traumatic, a father- those are things i know. but then nurture establishes habit, a tradition. for as much as i want to create new, to make things that could be regarded as novel, that will enthrall people to make things of their own, i will make people confident, i will show "those kids rap great". then what the fuck is it- I'M FUCKING SORRY. i cringe because i have issues; i'm not as confident as i blow myself up to be. i owe it to myself to make mistakes, to make people around me uncomfortable, think less about morals, and empathize with the ones that i've been utilizing.

1: on that transport, route i still haven't come back to name.. name really had an impression on me.

i still haven't done that by the way.. (past place now)

but the past managed to haunt me. yes, i was paranoid. i still am but at least i understand the circumstances of my condition now. yeah, you very likely have to make people uncomfortable to form connections again. it will be fucking uncomfortabe, you will hate it- who am i speaking to; when i start to name you, that's fine. alright is that where half these ideas come from? that simply the act of allowing yourself to finally create something will cause you to make mistakes? mistakes you have to figure out whether or not to correct or improvise as part of the performance as part of your original motivation, to finally include those parts of yourself you suppress and repress endlessly..

yeah fine i was talking to someone, the reader what kind of reader do i imagine? hehe.. fuck you.

name wrote me, asked me of my history and maybe i ought consider which responsibilities i manage to actively avoid, that my life as a vagabond doesn't absolve me of them. i have people that i want to actually pursue a life with, and people that i would rather simply reserve as a crutch when my life ends up in the gutter those people perceive me a part of anyway.

name deserves an answer. my home is comforting.