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SUBMIT TO THE DARK LORD.
With one easy payment of 1 million trillion your couch goes to college dollars.
Please send to the moon or my Jeep or my dog.
I started crying at the grocery market today when I realized I couldn’t afford everything I had budgeted for. Grrrl-child still sometimes. But I made rent and I’ll have enough to start saving up again if I consistently sell blood the next few weeks. The ocean’s in my future this summer. But for now — s l e e p
Sleeping & eating, sleeping & eating — these are the only things I have energy for anymore, and I dislike it so. Minimum wage work keeps me in my darling apartment & red wine & chocolate canolis, but it also keeps me neutralized, sedated, dead inside, always in search of something to soothe my sore body, never anything to stimulate my thoughts.
Side-note: Last night my partner bought a few boxes of frozen veggie burger patties for him to grill up just for me, because whenever I hang at his place (or whenever I am conscious between the hours of midnight to dawn) I always crave cheeseburgers & fries. I love this d00d a lot. He’s pretty cool.
As I was leaving the mall about an hour ago, an exceptionally beautiful punxxx person called out to me, “You’re gorgeous!” I do feel gorgeous today — or rather, I feel peerless. Invincible. All I could think to say in return was, “Have a nice day!” … meh. But it got me thinking about the difference between compliments versus harassment and how, for me, the contrast lies in whether or not a persons’ words have the threat of action behind them — making the “compliment” belong to them, instead of truly honoring me … Anyway, I’ve bought a vegan pizza that I’m going to surprise my lover at work with. Pizza disrupts my political thought process always.
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