5/18/25 it's so peaceful at night with the gentle hum of crickets and occasional beat of a passing car. finished watching all about my mother- note to future self: check out more of almodovar's work. penelope cruz is the type of woman whose photo would be in my cigarette case in a warzone and i'd look at it psychotically until someone shot me in the head

5/16/25 hit the fuckin sprinklers and activate the call system! it feels like there's a heatwave coming through, leaving me sweating like a pig in its wake. and it's barely summer, but why is it so goddamn hot? already? not even a delightfully cold wind will ameliorate the fact that my camisole is stuck to my left tit.

5/12/25 today i salvaged some forgotten age-old summer clothing from the maw of death (the attic). they're just so lovely and are malleable enough to be easily integrated into multiple outfits and styles. could also upcycle some fabric into a separate sewing project. many possibilities to chew on and ponder!

i have the fragility of fine bone china and the frailty of a malnourished ant being gangstalked by carpenter bees

pulling a chungking express the way im consuming these canned fruits on the brink of expiration. not suffering from tragic heartbreak but exam stress instead

i can now study vaginas on my kindle. love and light

shootin the shit over many such cans of. energy drinks and lovely pu’er tea

i love how put off depeche mode looked in early 80s mvs. martin does an awkward little shuffle and rolls around like a necrotic gerbil. why is a translucent dave phasing in and out like a spectre. fletch is very obviously fake fingering an oboe. they get grabbed by many anonymous hands who rob them of their slot machine coins. then they jostle backwards as a group through the doorway while stiffly beckoning at the camera. it’s not suave. alan gets mistaken for the lead singer and doesn’t correct the cameraman cause he’s too shy and sensible. shots of random women. women. shots of women. and this is the era that also brought you the lauded chicken see you mv, folks.

what a lovely crustacean

so what if i’m getting curbstomped rn. so what. i’ve got perfectly coiffed hair and a beautiful smile and bitches love my mustache

‘yeah so the only reason i attributed that quote correctly on the quiz is cause i saw a gif set of carey mulligan on tumblr dot cum’

i’ve been on and off watching this terrible british tv show where this tattoo artist attacks people with the Gay Tattoo and it makes people all sappy and homosexual. our beloved gang of misfits chooses the nuclear option and retaliates with peanuts. there’s this one scene where a guy chucks a singular nut into the mouth of another from 10 yards away. hes deathly allergic so they both grapple for the epipen whilst choking and turning an awful shade of blue followed by a cinematic shot of stabbing the guy with said epipen. its emphatically dumb but you know i'll eat this shit up with a comically large spoon

waking up at 8 pm has got me in a fucked up state of mind. got me saying things like “many cars should hit my prone body” or “yeah one of those kiddy syrup fruit cups would reaaaaaally fix me right now”

Sniffing like a coke addict due to sinus issues because certain components of the air irritate me like I’m a mysterious cave salamander who dies in a researcher’s hands for no discernible reason

SCREAM. I have so many fucking things to study for and not nearly enough time. i call upon the powers of the dreaded owl in the trees to bestow the power of nocturne. Wish I could negate the effects of sleep deprivation like water slidin off a ducks back.

maybe if i knife enough tech ceos they’ll install headphone jacks in every device

Almost completely forgot that I’ve got an application due in a few days! What absolutely horrid and shitty timing is this? Note to self to plan things out better in the future, otherwise I WILL inevitably fucking regret it. The worst feeling is when you preventably mess up. You’ll see it coming in the rear view mirror and T-bone that industrial sized truck anyways cause you’re harebrained and just so cataclysmically imprudent. Man oh man, the grand ol’ dick of consequences does NOT come with lube. I desperately need a sense of urgency not driven by deadlines or whatever. Hands in head. You’re dead. You’re so fucking dead. Oh come off it.

i should be terribly maudlin and rewatch the devil wears prada and consume so much chocolate i throw up

today i: ate stale milano cookies in the shower, watched grave of the fireflies and subsequently cried so hard i instantly died of dehydration, sent age-old housefic to my dear compatriot over company email

i think we as humans love collecting things. Pinterest pinboard, images a pile of links all speak to the notion that we need it to be made ours. or its more of a conciliatory gesture, like a watch list, I'm not losing anything and will come back to it. I tell myself i’ll do it later. that's the only way i’ll be able to leave — by making it mine.

look I also realllly adore when a writer puts in some little blips like tracing your lovers clavicle or drawing innocuous patterns on their back. its gotta be tender, sweet and aimless. you’ve got all the time in the world to just savor it, bask in your affections and trust for each other, a bit akin to watching dust mites float around on a drowsy midsummer afternoon. to the point with effervescent joy, it’s gotta be quiet moments like these that speak the loudest

never really realized how much I rely on automatic spell check. I think I need to learn proper grammar. can’t really write well, I focus on formatting too much and at that point, why not just say “to hell with it” and meticulously comb over the straight edged rules of ‘glish? maybe that will help me become less indecisive, vacillating from present tense to something less and more. also I quite desperately cannot spell for the life of me. need to pour over that too.

oh sweet mother of god. lord knows how much i’ve struggled with the sisyphean task of navigating this derelict russian web site that exploded more than a decade ago with a defunct search engine worse than tumblr. which is heretofore an impressive feat. actually delicious may top that with how badly it crashed and burned into a smoldering wreck of early 2010s fans’ livelihoods. pinboard fucking sucks now too cause you can’t view anything without a subscription. and don’t get me started on all the dead links and landmines i’ve gotta sift through because the dumb, stupid, daft event of strikethrough purging a whole bunch of journals, once again proving the horrors of censorship. the ailments of diving into old fandoms, man. i may never recover. pinboard’s well and back and i can now crawl reclists to my hearts content. rejoicing and doing a lil happy jig

i clapped and a fly fell from the sky

“Being in darkness and confusion is interesting to me. But behind it you can rise out of that and see things the way the really are. That there is some sort of truth to the whole thing, if you could just get to that point where you could see it, and live it, and feel it … I think it is a long, long, way off. In the meantime there’s suffering and darkness and confusion and absurdities, and it’s people kind of going in circles. It’s fantastic. It’s like a strange carnival: it’s a lot of fun, but it’s a lot of pain.” -David Lynch

my neck starts its bitchful throbbing everytime im in a standardized testing environment and i end up gazing down in a rictus of pain #FAIL

sometimes life is just ur fundraiser poinsettia, tomato and egg cooked over high heat, and the 10000 unfinished overdue assignments giving u a raging migraine. oh and ur magnum 44. that too.

“In my opinion, camp is simply a matter of doing things as if you are doing them. Diving into a swimming pool? Throw your arms heavenward and give it the full Esther Williams treatment. When you dive into a pool as if you are diving into a pool, as opposed to executing an earnest quotidian plop, the result is magical—that pool is transformed from a grody Band Aid–strewn chlorine bath into a veritable LAGOON! Smoking a cigarette? Perform the action as if you are a French existentialist.” — Simon Doonan, Transformer: A Story of Glitter, Glam Rock & Loving Lou Reed

sue sylvester's dating profile: Extreme Taxidermy, Tantric Yelling, Poking the Elderly with Hidden Pins...

1/14/25 boots broke. hot glue. science department group chat. duck taping it with a chem worksheet. absurd croaking noises when I walk. mayhem. whatever.

someone tell the ants that i’ve removed their delightful delicacy from the table and they can stop crawling in through the hole in the drywall. i appreciate the commitment to the bit but you’re making that arduous hike through the woodwork bootlessly. it’s a futile effort boyyyyyy consider stopping. mostly gone now only a few stragglers left

"Language has a reality of its own because it is fixed, permanent, artificial. It enables us to express ourselves: our tears, cries, groans are states of our own, often brought about unconsciously, but, they are always felt as our own; on the other hand, the word 'pain' has nothing painful about it. As soon as one has given a name to one's feelings one can look on them as objects which have a reality of their own." -Simone Weil, Lectures on Philosophy

4/3/24 so my pc denigrated into a zero environment of inexistence after i bitch slapped a whole cunting bottle of water onto it.

3/21/24 i have final girled my way out of this 80s horror simulacra

2/18/24 pretty candles are my parental fulfillment

2/13/24 slammed my poontang on the corner of a table. i feel like convulsing out of my skin. i need to start drinking melatonin

2/4/24 beloved father out there ingesting rocks he bought for 20 grand

1/26/24 considering changing layout for my journal bc its becoming less of a personal space for me to spew about events in my life but more of like an esoteric fuckup of theory