i've brought it on myself. i've been incredibly antisocial and isolated ever since the abigail incident. after zack i lost much of my already-waning ability to feel connected to people. i didnt realize it until later on, because i enjoyed a totally selfishly brainless summer. I HAVE NEVER (not yet -- hope, hope) RECOVERED!!!

i hate linux.

i like hair. just not how it feels on my head.

say, how about doughnuts? will i ever be able to eat those again? well i'm sure i'll change frame of mind at some point. a month or so ago i thought i couldn't, then i did and liked it. so who knows.

but i've decided i should devote a lot more energy to making things better, and not be content with my bourgeois position, since it's really boring me anyway. i feel so stifled by wealth. it's disgusting.

oh so i started out by meaning that i feel i should go vegan now. it was a while ago just for health and to keep myself from going crazy over anorexia and shit and shat and all that. then i gained some weight again and actually felt good about it and stopped objectifying myself. it feels really nice. and as if it'll last. not about to hold my breath on that one, but it does feel better.

you know what's funny is that when i'm being a glutton i hate all the fat on my body. but when i'm not eating anything i get really sad because i suddenly like my body a lot and don't want it to go away. or rather thats how i used to feel. now i sort of feel the same no matter what. it feels really nice. i guess i am finally conquering my core extremism that i've so wished to do for a few years now or something. i'm able to embrace all these silly little changes. ahhhhh.

so this all would still give me cause for unnervement or something. like, so should i eat or should i not, even though i know it can't be either/or, i still like some continuity so i don't START wanting to be an extremist again and start all my brainkilling little cycles. they really kill me, especially because i'm so goddamned isolated. like, who the fuck do i tell this shit to? at least i'm friends with girls again. what was i fucking thinking. oh yeah i was being a misogynistic feminist, aka an extremist.

so anyway. i actually read things about veganism, just to see if it sounded valid, because i had known some but not enough, and i was interested, and wondered if i was totally uncompassionate for not feeling more love for animals who in my mind are idealized, but not in my life, seemingly like everything else. no wonder i hate living so disgustingly much of the time. (leo tolstoy is a great big genius.) i also was very tempted to go vegan just for health reasons and to keep my sanity, as explained above, if it can be deciphered since i'm definitely just spitting this out (the only worthwhile way to write, methinks in most moments)... but i also thought that was a disgusting way to spend my time thinking about food, which is a good and preservative thing, you know, the whole life-sustainment thing, too bad we're all such fuckups in america that not many people can understand it the way we perhaps ought to... so i didn't want to be so totally fucking selfish as to deny myself the food that others would and do die for. purely for my very very very petty health reasons. as in i want more vitamins and minerals and energy, which comes when i don't eat any milk or egg or sugar. while millions of people just NEED more FOOD! now my sanity on the other hand, this IS a priority for me, since i do want to go on living, since why would i be alive in the first place if i shouldn't? that's just silly. though i still sometimes too seriously do question it. so anyways, i had also been lately, as touched on above, very disgusted with all my convenient wealth and comfort and "fun" without real effort, since then it's really no fun at all, i'm just fucking numb and i definitely feel the numbness for days on end. except that my head aches with all the wasted thoughts. that's the one thing i feel, really, physically or emotionally, and then it's only a very low and cruelly continuous headache, as in i'm being suffocated softly by toolboxes on all sides of my head, and the hammers aren't going to help me by coming out and smashing my skull. they're just sitting in there, mocking my rich white domesticity. i don't even have the right to be ended.

SO ANYWAYS!!! i've been thinking about all this, and how i can never finish one single purely creative effort anymore, because once i try to produce one of the many images fleeting away through my head, one that i've caught, once i start to PRODUCE it, i've killed it. it's dead. like love, when you tell someone about it. although then it's less obvious because there's so so so much more feeling. but well it's the same if you're in love with the thought in your head, because it's as private and beautiful, well it's the same thing. same thing for me since NO ONE IS EVER FUCKING IN LOVE WITH ME don't worry i've swallowed that, i accepted it two whole fucking years ago. without much of a fight. because it was all so serene that a fight was obviously unnecessary and futile. so anyways. if you're in love with something that much, it's easier to share it, because once you do you don't kill it, it IS more like sharing than killing. because there's so much energy in it already that you can't possibly kill it by expressing it... even just the transient act of sharing it is alright, even though it takes some of it away from you, it's alright because there's still so so so much left of it inside you, and you believe that sharing part of it will help them to understand such a beautiful thing. and they do perceive it, some of it, and it is enough of a hint -- it can only be that, since they don't know till they feel it -- to give some more hope so that people can keep on living.

ahhh, so what was i saying again? have no idea. the word "vegan" pops up, so does "selfish", but i don't care, i like thinking about being in love. i was earlier. anna karenina is a great book. not a soap opera at all, i was just surface reading for the first sixty pages or so. good thing there are more than eight hundred. its a damn good book.

tolstoy is a good writer. it's one thing to be able to perceive all those things. it's one great big thing, at that. and it's an even bigger thing, though only for the effort of production, if you're gauging it by work, to express it all together woven.

hey, i really like sleater-kinney. also the ramones and the donnas. me and punk rock, who woulda thought. too bad i've not entered eternity where i'll hope to have one big party again. i really do fucking hope there's an afterlife. geez. otherwise i'll just die.

HAH!

my mom had another operation today. my mom is too beautiful. i was in love with her when i conceived that painting and i was in love with her again today. she is amazingly beautiful, and it is so easy to see when you're not selfish.