Low hanging fruit: “Lol,” “I don’t care,” etc.
Higher-order stuff I call out directly: “I know you don’t actually give a shit about [x y z],” “You’re trying to gaslight,” etc.
Low hanging fruit: “Lol,” “I don’t care,” etc.
Higher-order stuff I call out directly: “I know you don’t actually give a shit about [x y z],” “You’re trying to gaslight,” etc.
So yesterday I saw a ghost (not literally, of course): not my ex-friend, the one I’ll always remember, the one I was posting about a lot. Not them, but their on and off roommate of 7 years, their de facto best friend who I referred to in private as their “platonic boyfriend.” The one I said I was so jealous of.
I was at the park. He came up and said hi (which is maybe a bit unusual because of how extremely shy he is—he used more words in that moment than I’ve heard him say the entire time I’ve known him).
It was like all the shit with our (formerly) mutual friend had never happened. It’s entirely possible he has absolutely no idea. They said they hadn’t told him about any of it, when I asked just before the three of us went to Radical Pride, but that was a year ago.
He had recently moved out, into an apartment. It’s probable they still aren’t roommates.
I feel like him and I would get along really well under other circumstances. But with things as they were, I mumbled “Hi” or something, turned away to watch for the bus, realized he might also have been waiting for the bus, then ran away.
There was just no winning move there except to not play.
What’s kind of funny about this is, they have been creeping back into my life recently—reaching out to my friend, ostensibly about business-related matters. Him and I were fighting when shit went down with them, so I wonder if they know/remember the connection there.
Something something True Detective something something Carcosa.
Oh yeah, lol.
I found that image I think on Tumblr years and years and years ago, before I even was a homeless drug addict.
I was in love with the idea of being a dirty squatter-punk (and in spite of it all I haven’t looked back once). And I was in love with the idea that I might find someone I actually feel a connection to—something I hadn’t ever felt—out here in this forest of squalor, who actually wanted to be around me and stuff.
I really think I actually found that person. And then I lost them. Because I suck.
I have a profile image?
CW/TW drugs, depression, everything basically
I haven’t really posted in a while. I kinda feel like my life is falling apart.
Basically everyone did in the Bronze Age.
I hate my life so fucking much.
Please help me.