series

4/5
oh my fucking god what was that. am i to blame for things not going well? definitely.

4/14
dating apps are a humiliation ritual. only starved and pathetic beasts flock to such apps, myself not included obviously. im fresh and clean and pure and the events of last night do not reflect on the condition of my soul. see? see it now, its untouched. the year has barely gotten on when you think about it.. there is still plenty of time to rebrand and consume and consummate plans planned and forgotten for sure. optimism is the word of the day! optimistic is the girl who thinks her account is getting unbanned sooner or later. now im left to post notes on substack to alert my writer mutuals that i have not forgotten about them (i am still here!) and that their posts are still much appreciated by well me. i am the only reader in the world so it is imperative that i read the words of those who write.

i received three tarot readings from a friend on the condition of my entanglements past and present. brief (three days and 8 hours respectively) but my rumination and obsession with fun leads me to extrapolate these mistakes into more than they should have ever been.

i hate everything about everything.

two of sword upside down, upside down knight of cups, upright five of cups.

im keeping the interpretations close to my heart but the jist was: leave that white boy alone. oh fuck offffff ILL DO WHAT I WANT.

knight of pentacles upside down, justice upside down, upside down six of cups.

I think the second was just a confirmation of the feelings i had already come to terms with. fairly, ive only recently began to see things as they are. perhaps i would have been happier as a blushing belle in love with a mirage of moments lost to the ethernet. i used to love the internet but even that has been soured by moments i shouldve never partaken in. i feel like pieces of me have been partaken in without my explicit compliance but i think that is also something synonymous with womanhood. maybe the cards are urging me to throw away my pursuit of femininity and return to what i was before i became what i am. alice style.

maybe tarot cards endeavor to bring you back to yourself. im a skeptic at heart, so in theory i could relate to any card if i try hard enough. perhaps the tarot is more of a mindfulness game as opposed to a mystical clairvoyance.

the cards tell me i have loved and i am reminded of a great love.

the cards tell me i have been derailed. oh! but this love of mine took hold of my horns and threw me off course.

the cards tell me there is hope at the end of the rainbow. but of course! where else would god stash his pot of gold?

preemptive notes: if this tarrot reading doesnt go well im going to end my life.

king of pentacles, ace of pentacles, three of pentacles.

maybe when the cards mentioned stability they really meant i should give the creepos trying to fuck girls half their age a chance. whats more stable than a mortage?? TWO LIL NIGGA!

okay this is the end of my entry i really hate the current format its terrible and editing is for people with attention spans. confession time ive been like coo off my adhd meds for like a good month maybe i should push my refill appointment back. speaking of refill appointment i totally disregarded that being the point of the appointment i just thought my psychiatrist wanted to see me like he cared about me n shit. #iloveufuckiforgothisname2026

4/20
Dreams are special things bestowed upon special girls. I am one of the lucky few. Unfortunately, I only achieve REM at 5:00am every day, so I sacrifice my mornings to dream a little longer. Yesterday I said I would read Sartre. That was a bald-faced lie! It was more of a hairy one, actually. A hairy-faced lie! I rarely recount the earlier chapters of my dreams because it is all psychosexual-freudian slop. Hardly- as the memory is surefast slipping away- I can recall the last moments before I woke up and began writing this entry. I am violently trying to get into a room. In that room is a woman hoarding a letter meant for me, one I have excitedly anticipated since the end of our relationship. I think the thought of opening the letter and receiving clarity on these feelings that haunt me (it is a central flaw of society that no one is ever able to be honest with one another. Confessions of: I hate you; I love you; I need you; I cannot imagine a life without you; would surely help this world of ours spin with less weight and more vigour. Even the phrases uttered in my youth (I like to believe the days of being fresh and naive are behind me) “I want to eat you”, in which I believed I was being a raw and vulnerable girl, are now duplicitous under a new light. Perhaps I always knew what my intention was with those words. Am I dishonest and terrible for never clarifying what I meant by that? I would like to propose a bill to slice the English lexicon in half. there! Our problems in communication have been solved. Though my bill has achieved naught in terms of quelling my raging intrapersonal angst. I don’t hate myself!) so, I woke up without ever knowing the truth within those letters. I did not cry or sob or lie in bed and replay “Goodbye, My Danish Sweetheart” in memory of my Danish sweetheart. No! I was okay when I came to. Okay is the best thing I could feel realistically. It’s better than the dim neutrality or static, or even worse, yes, that terrible thing despair. Despair isn’t all puppy funerals and lead poisoning, though. I think my eyes take on a pretty shape when I cry, so I can excuse despair and its rule over me. I was okay, which means I awoke to a perfect mood. I thought “The tarot reading and my resolve had aligned!” I feel pretty good. end of entry.

04/26
a girl recollects her date but only the parts shes ruminated on!
initial dinner date: boring, fun? weird.. i contemplated going home afterwards because i was cold and well i didnt think we were getting along well. but i think thats just how i am. like fridgid and introverted. was he loud? or am i always below a whisper.. how can i describe it? if he wrote as much as he spoke he’d be an editors nightmare. imagine someone talking to you like you have no prior knowledge of anything and everything. oh you like [insert thing] oh boy do i have an unnecessarily long backstory for you! i didnt mind it, i like listening to people talk way more than talking. haha how could i forget he went through all the different accents he could do i really enjoyed that.

we play minigolf.. i kick his ass! he lets me win 😦 or loose? i think we were playing to loose. he takes the card home.. boo i wanted to scrapbook it. we hit a bar to play pool. now that was a whim if ive known one. im already tired. the music is too loud and now my mind is wandering. i miss every single shot i take. loud music, wandering mind, terrible aim. could things get any worse? YES IT FUCKING COULD. I CALL HIM ███████ NAME IN MY MINDLESS STUPOR. hes having a great time and i feel terrible because i cant reciprocate his energy, not to mention at some point his hand brushes my waist and it just sends me deeper into whatever im feeling. ugh what a creep! is what i want to say. in what world do i want you touching me right now. i catch a few glimpses of my face in the mirror and im glad i dyed my hair. it looks fun as fuck. i ask if we can kill the game early. i feel bad, he probably wanted a real game. i still feel bad. im not sure why i felt so terrible. i want to apologise for being so difficult, but i dont. i stay quiet instead.

the last spot we hit is the park. the escape rooms were booked out (the original date plan was an escape room btw (great idea i know (courtesy of yours truly))), how terrible, and he suggested we go so i obgliged. i dont know. i can only describe the night as being passenger to his whims. playfully, i blame the ruined night on him. he offers me his hand to hold as consolation (hes so theatrical!). hes holding it up for me now and i hesitate. the moment doesnt last forever and i tentatively (i remember considering it for some time) take his hand. theyrre rough and my purse is on the arm im holding his with. its bulky as fuck and its irritating me so i switch it to the other shoulder before taking his hand again. hes like six feet and im a good five five with these wedges (i never got a good look at his ass.. i vividly remember it looking kinda fat in the pictures. i can handle a lot but i draw the line at being flatter than a man). im makijng excuses. i didnt enjoy it, our cadences did nawt match. looking back he probably tried for it multiple times.. like physical contact? every shoulder bump or brief brush to my waist. maybe i am fridgid because i wasnt exactly in love with it. speaking of such we’re sitting on a circular swing now at first i was laying on it because i was dreadfully tired. that game of pool drained me. i said i wanted to go to the arcade. he tries to sit next to me but we settle on sitting back to back. i enjoyed that part. honestly i was getting tired of watching him watch me. its dark and we’re swinging and talking about nothing special. he tells me that the end is up to me and i hate that because id rather not make the decision. I WANTED TO GO TO THE ARCADE!!

there are a few moments where im tempted to comfort him. i mean i should, rub his back or console him but i let the moment pass. hes really hot. my back is uncomfortably warm. like when you sit near a heater for too long. hes the heated seat. freud, grief, murakami, confessions of good and evil? i ask him if he always overexplains himself like this. he tells me he does, and its okay because its who he is. ugh, i wasnt dissing you or anything is what i want to tell him. i may have a judgmental tone. i prefer to leave space for interpretation, i tell him. its no fun to be the former yk? (its funny because he proceeds to leave me guessing i HATE that shit) suddenly i feel shy and coy and want nothing to do with the outside world. ”soooo can you take me home now’ i think it before i say it. in reality im more coy about it.. “i think im ready to go now”

on the walk back to the car i ask him the fun question. what are your issues? anger issues. he rambles on and on we established hes an over explainer. i will admit i didnt feel like seeing him again after that. i remembered how big and rough his hands felt. i could probably take an uber home. girlfriends. exes. i didnt ask for a recollection of his previous relationships, that has nothing to do with me. no he asked me. he asked me if i had any dating experience. am i that transparent? i said no and he said he did, a lot he supposes. back to exes. he tells me he has a bad habit of perusing women who need fixing (fuck all the way off). is it weird i felt like that was bullshit? he asks me the same question and i reply i have none. im perfect. seriously i have none.. okay ive had the same recurring dream for a few years now. the net is telling me something terrible happened to me but i just really like the mickey mouse clubhouse… and cheese, fuckkkk i want to see something new when i close my eyes.

we take the elevator to level one. its silent. we walk to his car. i dont say a thing and if we did talk i dont remember. his car is surprisingly clean and his seats are heated. it feels like we’re back to back on the swing set again. he hands me his phone and i type in my address. he asks me to play music and im excited again. i want to play iron man by the cardigans but my thumb slips and lovefool plays instead. okay, whatever. he likes it, who doesnt know lovefool? something something. he leaves me alone in the car for a moment so he can pay his ticket. im with his unlocked phone and im tempted to check a few things. spotify, tinder, the notes app. i could get a lot done in 30 seconds undisturbed. but i decide against it. my conscious is constantly fucking up my plans for world domination. his phonecase is a sleek leather and now i want to frolic on some farmland. i just remember noting that because my current phonecase was freaking screwed. ugh we talked a lot on the way home. music, fruit farms, mangoes, strawberries, blueberries, his travel plans, more fruit farms. i wouldve let him put a hand on my lap if he wanted to, but he didnt. he didnt try to kiss me outside of my place either (oh so nowwww we’re being coy). i wonder if i was supposed to do that. take initiative for the first time maybe. im not one to break theme though. so i guess he didnt want to. none of it matters anymore. we’re never seeing each other again.

04/27
i dont want to talk about it

5/6
emotional regulation is boring and it feels like locking up a piece of myself when i try it. just a thought i had, i know its stupid and i should try to be a normal human being. im watching rwby right now. im so in love with the show. i think the production and the world lost something substantial with monty’s passing. he truly had a wonderfully unique way with composition and movement. his fight scenes were each a work of art. i remember watching something on the differences on action and fight scenes (this has nothing to do with anything) but even when it came to fights with grim each felt like an intricate dance. colour too, the club scene from vol 2 ep 4 reminds me of something taken straight from kizumonogatari. something i should probably watch again soon. i love that thing too. do twins sound the same? is that a stupid thing to ask? like naturally probably but i feel like voices depend on more things than just genetics. wyd if your geriatric professor is reincarnated into the body of the boy youre in love with but the two separate souls remain but you lowkey need your professors mind to save the world but also you feel bad for the original soul because the body was his first..

5/7
another day of violent heart rates and disappointing proportions. im drinking warm water right now, i want to read my book, i think. but its online and im sick of watching screens. but i only grow tried of screens when its time to read so i know im just making excuses. excuses excuses. i want it to be tomorrow already so i can go to the library. i dont know why i stay home like this. i forget i have other options. go outside? go outside and do what? do what exactly! i want to work on my project but it lacks direction. a passion project without the passion. i am the missing passion. i sat around and applied to jobs today. i ignored the progression of prior applications because deep down i dont want to do anything. school is looming over my head.. i can see it now. but what can i do? there are things i can do, i dont know if i want to do them though. I might organise my files today. maybe.. the day is already over. i wonder if this is how i am supposed to feel.. and if i feel fulfilled. im once again spinning with no desires or plans. i chose to stumble through life in this drunken stupor! at some point i will wake up. soon, hopefully. i have control over that….at least im supposed to. what to do yk? ill think of something.

5/8
i deleted every trace of you.. who wants to console me and buy me candy?
its like you never existed. right now i dont feel anything particularly strong towards that statement. at some point i thought it was my duty to preserve your work, your voice, your legacy. to me you were a man above men. what was i thinking? that i would cross seas to be with you and we would fall in love? forever? for some reason i had convinced myself it was love. maybe it was, but id never loved before that point so who am i to define love? he was a thing ensouled and i was hungry to feast on what he had to offer. he wrote about me. ive never had someone see me, or try to. i see you too now, i dont have any feelings on the matter. i do, though none are worth sharing. it isnt worth the words. we’re in different worlds now. some part of me still hopes to see you. it’s stupid its stupid i know. i wont ever stray from who i am and thats exactly why things are they way they are. at some point i convinced myself there was depth to your hedonism. i am a body, youre an attractive flesh bag. sweet words and writings temp me like a snake. oh but you did have depth! depth beyond my understanding. i didnt understand then and i can only hope to now. i doubt ill ever get that far. depth? im not a deep thing. im a shallow puddle when it comes to these matters. end of entry. no edit.

5/9
im on vol 5 of rwby. boy do i love action. its like action with no stakes, less blood and whatever. orange is the new red is what ive heard. its in everyones character design. they need to take the red offa ren. is it weird i always thought there were greater things planned for ren? its clear he was a favourite of the creator. cool ass introductory fight, plus he was voiced by the man himself (monty oum). speaking of monty i wonder how things woulve progressed if he had lived. i wonder how it feels to have a work, your own passion project, precede your existence. rwby outlived him and the company that produced its vital seasons. its like outgrowing a friend but still using their quips in casual conversation. i can for sure say i wasnt born a sardonic and cruel girl. i guess its up to me to either outgrow or outlive my posturing. dear diary, i dont know if ill ever understand the delicacies of the heart. i lack tact. boo me. can i buy it somewhere??
rwby vol 5 was a weird one for sure. you can see the time and care taken to upgrade SOME characters. im talking about raven ughhh its terrible to look at. lookat her and look at wiess. they knew better than to frame them in the same scene.. partial end of entry. ill be back i think.
say something absurd!!
absurd ranges from my apologising to fuck pee fantasies. NO! i would never let that happen, not even a drizzle.. unless youre ██████ then drizzle away… full stream ahead!

5/11
if you cut me open you may not like what you see. im making an ins and outs list!!
in:
casual heels
going outside
spotify premium
fiscal responsibility !
attending uni
painting, drawing, anything to do with pen on paper
writing by hand
love letters
some self assuredness
inu-curry
i want to read up on existentialism
out:
chasing love, as a concept instead of the feeling
chasing arbitrary feelings
reoccurring dreams
sleeping in
skipping meds
halting life for no apparent reason
this obsession with thrill and fun and anything entertaining
burner account driven psychosis
rumination to the point of tears
ruining my day with my imagination
references to that thing
ignoring important emails
ignoring important texts
gaugin
indecision

listing things i like because i am unsure of myself. listing these things simply because i feel feeble and simple today.
1. alice in wonderland: i like dreaming. i remember having an imagination so vivid my inner world would often project onto the real, a terrible gift.
2. inu curry: they made pmmm! i love their style. stop motion is one of my all time favourite mediums. it reminds me of my old.. i think he taught something do to with computers? in primary school. i cant remember his name. he passed.
3. coraline: making up a song about coraline shes a peach shes a doll shes a friend of mine. i love love love this movie and the studio clearly loved coraline too. the stop motion is a work of art, ugh i wish i had more words!
4. cordoba mosque: arches
5. tibetan monks: i feel a sort of safety? orange and red.
6. the free design: unicorns, specifically the mind absorbing.. decoding? ones in hard boiled wonderland and the end of the world
7. nadja: andre brenton
8. murakami: i like the lack of “oh wow! i am so confused!” there was a specific song mentioned i think it was a piano trio.. whatever that is.
9. wagner: fujoslop. im joking, but he was suddenly more interesting when i read up on the gay accusations.
there is no tenth, i feel like myself again. or at least i feel livelier than i did before. this is a good thing. ps it was THE GRAND TRIO

6/3
came across a profile of yours i had yet to tear to shreds. private account. ten posts. created 2015?? i dont have it in me to sleuth. well i do.. and i will.. momentarily i was invigorated but now i am flat again. desiiiiiire by murakami. murakami likes wagner, im learning. now that i think about it there isnt a single murakami i have read that didnt mention a piano overture, or what ever else it is called. i dont understand the appeal. why is wagner so great? who loves wagner? can you tell me that at the very least. words im rambling about nothing. no cobblemon, no tinder matches, no favourite mutual!! i feel like a zombie today too but less of one. i want to be serenaded by frivolous conversation, be light! be airy! whisper in my ear about wagner and plot to attack a bakery with me to right the unfinished business of my past! truth be told seeing into your life brings me no more excitement than masturbation. is it there but fleeting and leaves an aftertaste of guilt and disgust. truly i am healed from this unhealthy obsession.. take me baaack! oh how i wish to be mindless and lithe again, let my eyes overflow with wishes and may my tears carry words- bleergh! over it, im not even curious what a sad life i lead! favourite mutual updated their substack i changed my mind this life of mine is filled with light!
end of entry!!