stretch and strain and stars and rain

almost 4am. I’m doing some curation. Very tired but I just drank a little coffee. Put my hair up, put my headphones in. I’m going to concentrate as hard as I can and do as much as I can in the next two hours, and then I’m going to get 6 hours sleep and immediately wake up and start again. Okay? okay. Okay? okay. It’s a race against other curators this time, which really sucks honestly. I would rather just get to claim a certain amount and then do those. I really don’t like having to compete like that, you know what I mean? you know? you know what I mean? But whatever. freelancers can’t be freechoosers. I always say it, but I should get a real job. Maybe I’ll put a concerted effort into doing so after this trip happens. I dunno. Maybe I should have gone to law school or some shit lol. I guess I technically still could but it would be really hard and also suck and also I would have to get loans which… as I already mentioned… would suck. I dunno. I feel like I’m just… wasting my brain sometimes, you know? Like… it’s a really good brain and what am I even using it for? Also my muscles are strong and capable and what am I even using them for? Aaaaaanyyyhooo……. instead of spiraling into some sort of weird identity crisis right here and now in this little white box, I’m going to get to work, like, how I said I was going to.

Now it’s 5am and it’s going okay honestly. Like… not amazing but okay. I should definitely keep going like a lot. a lot a lot a lot. yeah. Okay, so, yeah. peace.

*** two days later ***

Okay, so, now it’s 12:30am like two days after I originally started this entry. Soooo basically, it looks like this curation project is about to wrap up…. and by that, I mean that it looks like everyone else is basically done for the night, and I’m going to stay awake forever and finish literally all that’s left. Also, I have to do another transcription thing for that other thing. Also, this girl I like and I’m trying to forge a ~tentative~ friendship with asked me to read over her ~~erotic~~story and give her notes and I said I would, even though I’m honestly not awesome at giving criticism, and and it’s really not my favorite thing to do… but people ask me because of my whole… writing thing.  ** 10 minutes later** lol uh-oh. so far so not so good. She said to be brutally honest, (like her dance teacher is) but delivering brutality is not where my strength lies, so… we’ll see how it goes.

**5.5hours later** It’s now 6am. I’m deliriously tired and starting to hallucinate bugs a little bit lol. Also, I worked for like …. I wanna say 16 hours today?? that’s how long it seems like. Let’s calculate. lol yeah, actually, that’s about right. **thumbs up** People came online again at like 3am and I had to race them and I totally stole some from people who claimed hundreds of lines at a time, like bitch, that’s against the rules they said to claim as you go not put your name on hundreds of lines and then do them at your fucking leisure. Naw son, I’m here now and want to do them now, you can’t call dibs. Soooo I stole some they claimed. I could have done more even, but it’s 6am and I’m just toooo fucking tired. I did like 1,800 lines today. lololololol holy shit my dudes. I have a bunch of other misc shit I have to take care of tomorrow, so I should definitely definitely fucking stop writing this and let myself peace the fuck out into sleep time land. Oh, shit, before I forget to mention it / forget it ever happened, speaking of sleepy time land, the other night (like 2 or 3 nights ago idk, time is all fucked up for me right now) I had a dream that Amanda Palmer was giving me a full back stick and poke tattoo. lmfao. It was like… full color, like a shilouette of a lady standing by a tree with a bunch of colorful flowers around it?? and like… I didn’t even like it that much?? but it felt nice and Amanda Palmer was giving it to me so I just fucking went with it. yeah. that was a dream I had. yeah. cool. Idk why I even told you that honestly it’s so random but also now it is preserved forever. tight. I’m very tired. bro. dude. dude. bro. I should cut my nails but I also don’t want to and I’m fucking tired and I’m going to bed now peace out.

The 22nd-ing

Feeling fucking bad yo. Dejected as fuck. Guilty, worried. If I spend literally $0 I’ll have exactly $4 less than I need to pay the last credit card bill of the month. Maybe I can scrounge for some fucking change. Maybe one of you 288 people wanna hook it up for me. (Lemme know if you do! That’d be rad!I’ll give you my PayPal info!) I applied for 6 (or possibly 7 I honestly don’t remember) freelance jobs on upwork today, and I’m going to try for more tomorrow. Haven’t heard anything back yet. Haven’t been too keen to take new assignments via that website cuz they take a fucking 20% cut now but… I’ll take anything at this point. Maybe one of you 288 people want to hire me to write something. I can write fucking anything. (Lemme know if you do! That’d be rad! I’ll give you my PayPal info!) I’m tired. Fundamentally exhausted. A dude in his 40s hit on me at the store today. Like… Pretty aggressively. Like… Followed me down two separate aisles trying to engage me despite my super clear non-interest / actively trying to get away. He finally said “we should exchange numbers” and I said “I don’t want to do that. Peace.” And continued walking away and he finally left me alone. I was not in a good state to have to deal with that. Like honestly it wasn’t even that big of a deal but I was already feeling worn, sad, weak and vulnerable and it kinda fucked me up. Like… Tearing up in the car, slightly shaking status. I couldn’t even bring myself to talk about it out loud when I got home so here we fucking are. Yeah. I’m tired. Fundamentally exhausted. Tomorrow brings more applying and applying myself. Also my dad’s birthday is Saturday and I need to figure out how to get him something with my $-4. Hit me up if you wanna make a charitable donation or commission me to write literally anything. (That’d be rad! I’ll give you my PayPal info!)

To: me From: me

I spent a huge portion of today sorting through a huge box of all the schoolwork I ever did from kindergarten to 10th grande, plus some personal project type shit. My parents had it stored in their shed and my mom has actually been bugging me to go through it for like a couple years but I was always like… nah. But they recently re organized the shed and so today was the day. Honestly? hahaha. honestly it was so fucking emotionally draining to go through all of that stuff. Like…. oh my god. it was so emotionally draining. It took like 4+ hours and I was so fucking exhausted when it was done. I felt like someone ripped my soul out and then shoved it back inside me. I don’t know. Some of it was cute and funny but a lot of it was really sad for me and some of it was just … ugh. I dunno. I threw the vast majority of it into the recycling bin, and just saved a few morsels and mementos that I thought were important pieces of myself. I remembered a lot of things I didn’t really need to remember. It broke through my robot shell and made me feel real feelings. God, my child self. I was so fucking weird and confused about everything. I don’t even know how to fucking process it honestly, so I’m going to do my best, by writing a letter to my past self. And here we go.

Hello baby me. Hello small time self. I’m so sorry my darling. I’m so sorry. You said you wanted 100 reptiles when you were 25, and now you are 27 and you have two, so that’s something. But you aren’t a zoologist or a botanist or an artist. You aren’t anything really. You’re alive. You’re working on yourself. I know it’s not what you wanted or what you planned. Times is hard my tiny self. My fresh faced me. Times is hard. You were the cutest kid in your second grade class, you know. I know you don’t know but it’s true. Possibly for the last time ever, you’re the cutest in the room. Okay. It’s time to talk about something else now. God, I’m so fucking sorry you have to feel this weird shit. You instinctively know that it’s not something you should talk about openly, or ask the grown ups about, and you’re right. That’s good. For right now it’s just for you to know and feel. I read some of your writings. You were about 9 I think? Maybe only 8. You didn’t date it, so I’m estimating like an anthropologist based on sediment layers and handwriting and language use. God, I’m so sorry. You wrote such a detailed, descriptive story about yourself being a dog. But all the details are about your interactions with your “owner”. (you named him tim for some reason????) and how he was training you and about how he chained you up to stuff when you wouldn’t behave and god, I’m so fucking sorry. I know how weird and confused you feel. You want, you yearn, you obsess over certain things that make you feel a certain powerful way, and I know. I know. It’s so weird and undefinable and you have literally never ever ever seen or heard of another person feeling this type of way about anything and it makes you feel isolated in a way. Yet, at the same time, it feels so natural, it is always a given for you, and how could something that natural and pure be bad? It isn’t, my sweet small self. It isn’t bad, but you need to relax and breathe.  Please, just wait. Just give yourself some time. I swear to you, my spry young self, you’ll get it someday. When you’re a few years older you’ll find a certain book at the library, and you’ll be brave, and you’ll check it out. You’ll read it and your heart will alight, and you’ll understand. I love you. You need to stay safe, and I know you can do it. By the way, the grown ups aren’t always right. I know you’ve seen a few examples of this, instances where you knew you were right and they were wrong, but you still see them as above and beyond. They aren’t. Sadly, I’m one now…  and I know that I don’t know shit about the world or about anything. Adults are fallible,  all of them. even your parents. They’ll all fuck up and they’ll all hurt you in stupid, imperfect human ways. Even if they love you they will. Be ready. Be strong. I love you. I believe in you.

though process and processing thoughts

I’m mainly writing this to comfort myself, because I find it calming for some reason. All the coffee I drank is keeping me awake, but it’s also making my anxiety go off like woah. LIKE WOAH SON. I have a lot more work I need to do still. Five more and I should have enough to pay my rent, with about $15 left over. Yeah. But that’s not really enough for like… being a person… and paying all the other fucking bills I have to take care of. Man, being an adult is so tiring. Like so draining. It would be cool if I had more time to do some tomorrow, but it’s passover and I have familial obligations. I’m planning on only getting four hours sleep, so I can do as many as possible and things of that nature. I’m getting really fast at them, but still. It’s draining.

Bam. rent money number unlocked. Completed. That was the bare minimum that I needed to do and I did it. Hell yeah. Hell yeah for me and sweet style cool things. 80 fucking product descriptions in less than 48 hours. Holy shit and also damn  these things suuuuccckkkk huge dongs. I’m tired and wired and I guess I’m going to keep going. Shoot for at least 10 more before catching a few hours sleep? I originally wanted to make it to 100 tonight, but idk if that’s practical… me staying awake and being able to think-wise. It’s okay tho. I feel a bit relieved since I made it to 80. I wonder how many other people are working on this project with me. I wonder how they feel about it. Judging by the fact that the pool hasn’t shrunk much in the last couple hours, most of them are asleep right now.

85 mothafuckaaas! I’m tiny riiiick! Time to party!! (help, let me out, this is not a dance) I’m so cool and awesome and writing stuff for a living is gr9 (I’m begging for help, I’m screaming for help) I want to do it forever!! Time to queue up five more! (I’m dying in a vat in the garage!) 

Okay!! We’re at 90 now. It’s 5am. I’m going to try and do a little of the sleep thing. Super cool, please edit them now editors and pay me. much sleep tired brain. Actually sleep hopefully will happen? I can only do a small few hours worth. But I will do the hours.

 

 

the nonsleep diaries

I’m sooooo exhausted. My eyes can barely focus. Blurrrrr city. blur blur city. But guess what? I got a trail for some fucking weird bizarre type of freelance work that I don’t even fully understand yet, and I have to finish it by 7pm tomorrow. Hahaha yeah. I’m alternating between chill confidence and gut wrenching fear. I need to look at the things and figure out what I’m doing and figure out if I have any questions I need to ask the client, but I don’t want to do that stuff at all. Nah son. Nah son. Not at all. But really I had a nice day today mostly. I spent a lot of it with my parents. We went on a long walk with the dogs, and I pet two horses and one of them really liked getting scratched under the chin, and I named him chin horse, and we were friends. Also we saw a bunch of alpacas, and they were way on the other side of a field, but they came over to check us out and they were super cute and v curious about the dogs. I’m really fucking tired, and I need to do more stuff with my life in general. I really do.

I’m not high I’m just weird

Hey hey fellow carbon based sentient life forms! how are you enjoying your oxygen and the compound made by two atoms of hydrogen and one of oxygen? haha yes, me too. It is most refreshing. I am hiding under some blankets with my phone because the phone light is super bright. I need to go to sleep!! Feeling not super tired but maybe it will happen. We are flying through space right now and we are each a world to microscopic organisms and everything is amazing and I love you.