stone soup

the strongest of breezes can’t be felt here. my brain is muuuuuuuush.

this week hasn’t even been a roller coaster. even the steepest of those have some sort of slope. mine, however, was a beautiful undefined DROP. i don’t know what the hell is wrong with me, switching out of my current class into some perhapshell i might not be able to handle. one month after class starts. “but I wont slack offfffffffffffffffffffffffpff, like last year.” the news was brilliant a few days prior, I was joyous more so because i convinced steadfast Nicholson rather than for the actual 'victory.' but the blunt of it has hit me hard today. i still don’t know my potential. it’s the pride that shoots me down, yet keeps me alive.

i wouldn’t know potential if it cha-cha-ed naked in front of me.


i hate being human. we’re morons when it comes to death and dying. "don't leave me here, i need you, i can't exist without you, if you go, you might make me sad!" meanwhile, they're hooked to unrecognizable machines, placebos to you, who think they're thankful to be alive and living normally. the smiles you see aren't expressions of happiness, relief. they're of regret for knowing you.


i get feverish from stress. wtf.

our world balances out disgustingly. you have the unfortunate cleft-lipped babies, whose caretakers can’t afford the correction, the wealthy public, who feel pity for the big, sad eyes of those unfortunate souls TIME displays on special thick advertising paper, which is equivalent to a good 7 pages of magazine paper, and the advertisers for help, who leave blanks for $25 min, up to $500. of course, any donation is necessary, so a lonnnnnnnnnnng space is left for “your donation is appreciated. thank you.”


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"your ignorance is appreciated. thank you."