You are your experiences.
You are all things that affect you.
The one hundred year old man that escaped drank and ate too much.
He went with the flow, blew things us, became a spy, caused the deaths of others.
I am torn, is life fatalistic.
Do things just happen, can we look towards nature for the answers for the universe?
Dose our own existence need to occupy the most of our thoughts.
Existentialist theory blah blh blah blah blah blah.
Cause effect, early death, exhaustion, poor health. Self sacrifice.
Caught in conversation with yourself and the end of the world, whether its yours-specifically or everyones. “who cares” – they’ve all been saying.
“see you on the other side” for others.
I feel full,
Slimey, sluggish.
Chubby cheeked.

Longest relationship? 3 years?
Who knows. Does it matter now. The follow on effects. I am a product.
Packaging is so so wasteful.
every time I buy something. consumption.
Laugh and grow fat, toil toil toil the world away to ashes.
Fire and brimstone.

I remember the first; the Cure played.
I cried like onions hung over my hear.
Boys don’t cry.
Belly, skin and hair.
Curls and dry… dry dry.
Must I change.
Find new ventures.
Seek out my strife.
Strive for better in myself. Peoples reactions, motives, words and actions hurt me.
I am evil-eyed.
And the world reflects.
No rainbows here, my shape allows for only ugly-ness to mirror.
The cracks are appearing.
Pots and pans.
I wont be young forever.
what, ‘o what are we doing here.
Can I be any other way but this.
Pineapples and Pictures.

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