I’m falling apart. Back on my bullshit. Can you blame me? I might be on the verge of becoming homeless again and my life partner just makes a fuss when I bring it up, however I do that. It’s always the manner that I approach him that he criticizes and demands perfection in.
He asked me sincerely when we were still homeless to kill him. I was fucking up with Benadryl then, too, stealing it even because I thought I was going to die on that mountain. Then one day he says he talked with his dad and then we started getting money and we got inside in like two weeks. It’s bullshit! He’s fucking with my head intentionally, and it’s breaking me down.
The cult was like this. Or was it Love School, that totes secret government reconditioning program that rewired my dopaminergic pathways so video games were no longer fun, so I wrote more and more and now we’re here, at this level of thumbmancy, and still I can’t support myself.
Get a job everyone bitches at me about. Ok. I just headbutted a huge hole in the wall, how long do you think I would last with a job? Get something using my writing skills? Ok. I’ve been trying. I never get even a reply back. Clearly I’m doing something wrong. I have the most poor judgment and I don’t know what normal even is now, so how do I make someone actually go beyond my abysmal resume?
Keep posting I say. Get stoned God says. I keep posting because surely there’s someone who CAN see me for what I am. People need to be told what to think. There ain’t nothing like me, the plumbus of people. Is that beneficial to me or society? I mean, I see what purpose I was made for. Gotta go back to college to do that.
Can’t ever make forward progress as everything SEEMS to be working against me, controlling me. Have to become more independent and autonomous. I’m so tired. I’m never good enough. I jump through God’s hoops, and the asshole keeps raising the bar. I can’t relax. I have to bust my ass, either writing or wordsmithing, which are two different skills. And it’s never good enough.
Thanks dad. I confronted my negligent, narcissistic father and he goes on to try to shit in my soul by throwing that he learned my grandma died in a manner as one might use a dagger. Hasn’t replied to my texts this morning. Prolly fuming and taking it out on everyone around him. Or maybe not! Maybe the man who broke me is just prejudiced against his own son.
I’m AUTOMATICALLY crazy and dismissed and ignored for weeks on end because I have the audacity to bring up that we live in a police state and that’s why things are the way they are. But no, I don’t have Trump Derangement Syndrome. I think the character he portrays to intentionally be portrayed that way in the media is an utter dog shit example of a human being, but I’m also aware he’s a cop, so he’s expected to be a piece of shit, for trust-related reasons.
And if you don’t get that, speak into the mic.
Yea, many times and I have done a set before on open mic night when I was no one near where I am now in my development. I’m a juggler and I write a few trillion words a week, so I got spicy neural connections to know that I am fully capable of getting a Netflix special or what-have-you if I can walk in a straight line for more than a minute. I might become homeless again if my life partner doesn’t get any help, and I’m trying all I know to help him, because he either:
Uses me as his supply as a narcissistic manipulator, or
He’s genuinely working with the CIA as I kinda am, being so naturally counterintelligent that I accidentally told my ROTC cadre that my nonexistent sister got me pregnant over the course of weeks
I think I’m supposed to get arrested, as in, that’s the plan, because I feel extremely set up, but I’m not paranoid, I’m pronoic, because I know God is good and that I have been trained for a role in the most ridiculous manner possible.
You want to write TV? Got any pitches?
I want to create a show similar to the Trailer Park Boys but set in a crazy cult and psychedelics instead of booze and each episode is a self-contained lesson that teaches something about philosophy, spirituality, and mental health skills.
I have a book idea that God is helping develop. Similar world as if you merged Skies of Arcadia and Arcanum: Of Steamworks and Magicka Obscura where the flying continents of the world were engineered by a previous advanced society that lives under the clouds and harvests the souls into a biochronaistic machinery, the Chthaoctardriam. I made a few meh pics with AI, and this is definitely going to be something someday.
