Solitude is endless. A whole new world. The desert. I am thinking-talking-in images. I don't know how to write them down. Every feeling is physical. Maybe that's why I can't write- or write so badly now. In the
desert, all ideas are experimental in the body.

— from ‘As Consciousness Is Harnessed to Flesh’ by Susan Sontag

woke up in such a mood oh todays gonna be great

blue era (depression)

need to end the year on a good note love yallll

watching the revolution being hijacked by idiotic stupid ppl abroad and I can’t even do anything because my people genuinely believe they need these losers to win against evil

congratulating eachother over people tweeting the same bland vague shit like this is so embarrassing for all of us.

crying screaming throwing up btw

god why is it the wrong guy everytime

how can the same tragic event happen to me over and over again

trusting people and being kind to others is lowkey not the vibe

love the audience we have here

me

when you wanna talk things through and feel less heavy and just know that you are loved and cared for in this exchange of human behavior and all you get is “***** sent you a music file.”

like i dont want the recipe to your mothers bitch gobbler bitch (idk what this tiktok sound actually is and i simply don’t care)

writing poetry about men is something so crazy only ocean vuong would understand

a man saying he "stans" something he gotta be bisexual

that hysteria diagnosis cant come any faster.

white women kinda worse than white men and its all bcs of that victim mindset