Hello.
Two days have passed since the Summer Solstice. In that time, I’ve written and scrapped two involuted ass entries.
Haze of despondency has staid the kitizens of Meow Manor... We've received reports that there's a major shortage of fucks to be given. Impulses have been crudding my brain, the likes of which could be poignantly described as “cacoethes”—Evil Caca Shit compulsions.
Such is the life...of a fainthearted ruminant, always vying with their insecurities.
As your frontal lobe develops, the shortcomings of your childhood become devastatingly cogent. Innumerable hours trifled away in vain introspection… I've come to recognize self-aggrandizement and self-pathologization as virtually the same—socially indissoluble, at the very least. An absurd amount of my childhood impetus was wasted instigating my own excommunication...conditioning myself into playing the martyr and refining the role, as if it were my livelihood. Daunted by the harsh world, I resolved to cater to every possible individual by acting as if I'm someone everyone could equally abhor. Succumbing to estrangement provided me some semblance of safety. Self-effacement became a second nature, a defense mechanism. Isolation meant inurement—a sanctuary, as suboptimal as they come. I felt I could rely on my bubble. Swindled by the seductive illusion of durability, I overestimated my turbid panopticon's infrastructure.

daily augury: elderflower sorbet
current mood: tame specimen
for your listening: Mizca - Robotics
critter companion: Atlantic white-sided dolphin

RETURN