something about mary is giving me high anxiety
really good bookz i got at cake (sad sex by heather benjamin, stink helmet by otto splotch and pork magazine.)
i’ve been proven not to be important to some. i ask to much i guess. i’m too much.
i’m wasteful. i am a lump taking space. i need not be looked at, or looked over so i am not appreciated. what is there to appreciate about a bruised, glutinous lump? nothing.
Consciousness has led us to believe in inherent value. my consciousness has led me to know that inherent value is fabricated.
i will sit and depreciate.
I’m just trying to take a good selfie with this bear. cuz that boy isn’t going to call (probably cuz I’m too fat)