i don't want the tone of this blog to veer into an are-you kidding-me-introspection-party
but this is the closest i've come to a free stream of consciousness that i documented. i don't actually remember writing this, only my vague motive for jotting down these schizotypal lines and it's probably because it was typed out at some godforsaken hour with one eye closed. despite it's obvious potential to be found etched in a dead man's blood or arranged with cut out letters from a magazine, i can't deny that at that given hour of whatever day it was birthed, it was the love child of brutal honesty and severe weariness. only thing i edited out were words i either made up, or invented by slamming too hard on the keyboard. also i made things a bit more intelligible with apostrophes and spaces and a lot of spell check.
words
capture wandering stranded solitude silence screaming shouting arguing
agree want obsession healthy jealousy squabbles teenage help me
too old too young
links linear
alliteration, thoughts are born never die just circle circle
i repeat myself
fraudulent, same theme repeated
inspired by lack of inspiration
nothing ever happens
waiting waiting
want clear head so i can write of things that aren't so goddamned depressing
infant baby hungry huddle
i have to go in alphabetic order
never actually crying, never really is never
always is never always
i wanna see and hear and write new things that feel new
i don't care if its an illusion, it pleases my shallow need for
straying from ubiquity
fear of one single conscious because that conscious would belong to me
and i am a lying scathing bitch
split personality since i could speak
i actually believe i am mentally deranged
there is no free flowing conscious
i have no conscious, i don't even know if i'm awake
i see something new i want to become that new
i can't become that new because then i become old
everyone is wrong including me
everyone is weak including me
few things make me happy
only a few photos make me go oooh
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