The boredness that I am feeling might be what is leading me most into the thoughts of suicide. The boredness and the feelings of loneliness. I know that there are people all around me, in real life and online, but there is still a disconnect that I feel from them. The true life worth living still stuck inside of me.

I’ve got to keep trying to be honest with myself. Sometimes even when I am, thinking back on it a second later it feels as if I didn’t go deep enough truthful with myself – like I was putting on a facade, artifice; trying to create something clever, creative, uber genuine, productive.

The music is okay tonight. The images on tumblr inspiring. Karta has begun sending out a tiny letter. Galaxim has been responding to my Medium posts and over email. I haven’t heard from Changeling all day but I haven’t said hello to her either. Piper asked me what my favorite meme was. I told her that I don’t think I have one. The schmig has been clogged regardless the atomizer that we put in it, regardless the fact that I cleaned all of them in a bowl of hot water. Nobody is talking on Telegram. More chatrooms have been created. The enemies are present yet still distant. Crabs in a barrel, grabbing at all the fun.

I have to go to work tomorrow. It is my method for shoveling food into my life. Thank goodness for the bagel shop and the one employee there who thanklessly makes our sandwiches for us without tips. Thank goodness for the Key Foods. Thank goodness for Chaturbate. Thank goodness for this trashy corner in the kitchen that I can masturbate as loudly as I want into. It is right behind Musette’s sleeping head but separated by a wall. A metaphor for this online literary life I’m living.

I wish Facebook would stop telling me that I have more friends than I think I do. I probably have less honestly. Like some of these people online whom I think are my friends talking negatively about me behind my back in public right in front of my ever present eyeballs.  


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