Sometimes I go through my old tweets to make sure they’re appropriate for the public (I guess?) and so I was just imagining someone in a position of power like reading me my tweets and being all “Well how do you explain this vulgarity?!?” And all I would be able to do is stand there cackling and I’d maybe be able to squeak out “God I used to be so funny” in between bouts of hysterical laughter
Depression is complicated and difficult and sometimes feelings of wanting to not exist are very real but then there are nights when a 7 month old puppy makes your foot her pillow and her snores sync up with the snores of a beautiful boy sleeping next to you and you can’t help but feel a twinge of relief that you’re still alive.
We are told “no,” we’re unimportant, we’re peripheral. “Get a degree, get a job, get a this, get a that.” And then you’re a player, you don’t want to even play in that game. You want to reclaim your mind and get it out of the hands of the cultural engineers who want to turn you into a half-baked moron consuming all this trash that’s being manufactured out of the bones of a dying world.