I don’t know if it’s just cuz I’m using my phone or what but I can’t crop my images. I put the little rectangle where I want it then the only option available is to cancel it. Wtf?!? Where is the publish button?!? I’m so Fucking sick of shit going wrong and stupid selfish people in my life.
When I look at etsy or other vintage clothing sites and they’re calling Everything from the 90’s ‘grunge’. Conservative Mom dresses. Anything velvet. Boring preppy little outfits. I don’t know why it’s bothering me SO Fucking much but it is. I Hate when people use buzzwords to get views that are completely irrelevant. It’s cheating and wastes my time. When I’m looking for something specific I don’t wanna have to wade through a bunch of SHIT first. NOT everything in the 90’s was considered grunge. Look it up you Fucking idiots. I was there. I know. Music and style was a big part of my life back then. I wore that style. Get off the Fucking bandwagon. Idiots.
Now he lives in a little rectangular box on my nightstand. Now I don’t have to worry about him anymore. Now I always know where he is. Now I’m never alone. We don’t hurt each other’s feelings these days. When I babble on about nothing in particular it feels pretty much the same because he usually just tuned me out. And that’s just fine with me. Sometimes I just feel like doing my stream-of-consciousness thing… When it’s important, he’s right there, when I need him to be.
He’s still the most important person in my world. It’s been over a year, dammit. Ain’t someone else supposed to have taken that spot over by now? Damn attention whore. O well, everyone else just bores the hell outta me, and I detest stupid people.
Since he died I rarely leave my cluttered little apt anymore. It’s hot as fuck in here right now. I’m naked- in front of my fan- on the bed- next to a cat. Like I am every other day.
I don’t do shit anymore. He knew I’d end up like this. With the exception that I eat. A lot. We both thought I’d starve myself as I usually do when I’m unhappy with my inability to control things. You know, because it takes a lot of control to resist eating food when I’m so hungry that it feels as if my stomach is eating myself from the inside out. Yes, it’s not easy. But I went another way for some reason. I’m not liking it though- I think fat is disgusting. And I’ve got 20 extra pounds of it now, all around my midsection. Ugly.
Regarding never leaving the house, I have to twice a week for methadone and necessities like cat litter and candy and e-juice.
I lost interest and I’m too hot and uncomfortable to write. And typing this crap on a phone is excruciatingly slow and annoying. So I. Am. Outta here!
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