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Freux wrote

I got a cold, don't sleep well, feel too lazy to do chores, and everything annoys me.


Tequila_Wolf wrote

I feel your pain! I've been sick almost three weeks. And haven't had much time to sleep.


mofongo wrote (edited )

I have to work on the 24th, no long weekend for me.

This is after requesting the day before Thanksgiving. Instead, my co-workers who had Thanksgiving free, are having the 24th free. One even left earlier today to go to a 4 day all inclusive resort.

This is the day after the company raffle, where the winners were middle management and at most two people from the high raking projects. You need to pay to participate too, for charity.

I did not get my yearly raise this year, apparently i didn't perform well for the first time in six years, it's less than a dime per hour. Management didn't even tell me directly, despite me asking.

But I'm going off rails... Where was I? Ah, right. I'm not working on Monday. Yay long weekend!


Cheeks wrote

I spend to much time on "what ifs." Its fucking crippling. i learned it from my mother. Always be precautionary, even when she bailed me out of Orleans Parish Prison for pissing on the oldest church in the nation i was thinking about what i hadnt done to make it worth it. Or when she organized a caravan to pick up a few dozen of us in Miami after the WTO protest. I was angry with her again. She was simple, or it seamed, disabled single mother with two poster children for welfare. I know she didnt have the money to make this happen, where the hell did she get it? She said we were feed and bills were paid so it doesnt matter and applauded me for standing up to "them." Its been 3 months. since she has passed. I still worry about everything.


existential1 wrote

Sorry for your loss. I'm similarly trying to process the "ambiguous" loss of my father. His mental state went downhill quickly after becoming homeless a few years ago. Now he doesn't remember my phone number (I was the only person he'd call), and nobody has heard from him or seen him in 4 months. I have to check the obits and arrests for him in the county he was last seen every week.

I now find myself being more critical of my own decisions and processes in the fear that I'll end up like him, since I took after him in terms of thought and personality.


GaldraChevaliere wrote

Was excited to see someone interested in sugaring for me yesterday, but she had something come up the day of the date and we have to reschedule. It's a shame, it's a unicorn situation and I don't give a fuck about her gross husband who has a sissy fetish, but she herself has been really cool and I'm not used to cis women like, actually respecting my boundaries at the fuck all. They're usually worse than men about it but try to frame it in weird "just curious" ways instead of just stating their intent. So it's been pleasant talking to her and I can stomach a man's hands on me for a few minutes if it means maintaining an arrangement with her.

The upside is I get yule with my actual lovers instead of spending a morning over at her place, so I'm getting up real early to pop open a bottle of mead and baking apples for Idunn. It's a shame I don't have any gold ones right now.


Tequila_Wolf wrote

Didn't know what yule or Idunn was until now.

Hope your sugaring situation works out despite the reschedule! She doesn't sound like a timewaster based on the little you've said.


BADC wrote

Ya know on this internet we have a shattering of trust. There are some chunks laying around but the rest is like dust. It doesn't help that most of these people can't pass the Turing Test. That's not the main problem; the internet can be like running down a hallway full of cops naked. So we anarch this and we anarch that dreaming about a utopia filled with violent monkeys. I ask myself "How can I be so happy?" and I answer myself "Because you're laughing all the time." The whole charade is so wonderfully absurd it's hard not to be awe-struck. We come and we go, some go silently into the night, some go in horror, in beauty, in pain, slowly or in an instant. Our scratchings and scribblings lay around in heaps waiting for the cosmic blast furnace.


OldHippieChick wrote

You know, after being discarded by my entire family last September, I am simply going to have to accept the fact that these random scribblings and "messages in a bottle" are what I did with my life.

Not what I CHOSE to do with my life, mind you, but all that remains.

I had to take so much stuff to the dump this week. A lot of it was useful or could have been turned into money but there just wasn't time and I would have lost access to storage and cooking facilities if I hadn't tossed and cleaned like a madman.

It's going to haunt me for awhile---Mr. Fluffers and all the baby pictures and everything that used to be my life, but the relevant part to this comment is all the letters I wrote to my son when he was deployed where I poured out my heart to him, thinking that if it was the last thing he ever read before he lay on that battlefield with his entrails spilled all over the ground waiting to die, he was going to want his mommy so the letter was the most important thing I would ever write.

He never read any of the letters. He saved them as "proof" that I was "so mentally ill she doesn't even have a Facebook".

Does that mean I was a sucky writer?

Does the fact that I recognized how corrupt the publishing industry was in 2003ish and stopped writing for money mean that I'm a sucky writer?

Does the fact that I genuinely believe that the printed word is the only form of immortality mankind has been able to achieve, and that I chose to use this power to communicate with people on the internet who were going through crises I could relate to and had some power to alleviate, rather than using that time and energy to exploit people's vulnerabilty and emotionally abuse and manipulate them into giving their money to corp-orations mean that I'm a sucky writer?


BADC wrote

My condolences for the mind bending at the hands of the war machine. As for the family, that is a shame.

You'll be a sucky writer if you care about what everybody else thinks. Do you, just like you're doing, so it's really not an issue then. Sucky writer it is a metaphor for the reader; sending a feeling of loss of an irrelevant pay dirt. That's what I got you sucky writer.

I'm struggling with watching artists who do sculpture draw so much. They re-pop Apollo & Daphne with such deftness. That's how art turns into old shit. There is a place for exactness but there is so much more. I enjoy the metaphysical application of the moment whether it be in lines or words.

OK, I'm rambling but it's fun. Right? Helping people is a moral of the anarchist. It's a moral of a lot of people but anarchist do it differently because they do not give a crap what the state thinks. I don't think you should work for ***holes. I do like helping ***holes immensely though. I don't lie to them; I just listen more and don't relate so much in a pointed "This is ME!" manner. I've been known to show up physically in the strangest of places to help all of the nice people & ***holes that I know. I call it anarchist outreach you.

I'll be your family. Jesus can be your probation officer.


yaaqov wrote

I had a lucid dream so lucid that I was talking with the people in my dream about whether or not they too knew it was a dream. A couple of them told me that yeah, they had known it was a dream. Another person told me that they hadn't, and they were feeling embarrassed for not realizing. I reassured them that in most of my dreams I never realize.

But at the same time I sort of wasn't lucid at all. It was more like I was dreaming that I had a lucid dream... dreaming that I realized my dream was a dream, instead of actually realizing it. Lately my lucid dreams have been of that nature. They lack any of the exploratory control of lucid dreams from when I was younger. No flying, no fucking, no speaking in languages that don't exist yet. That moment of "Oh shit, I can try doing stuff" never hits. I just... know I'm dreaming. And the dream continues.


bloodrose wrote

On vacation, barely checking raddle on my phone. Staying with my husband's old school friend for a few days in Portland. I thought he was cool the first time I met him. Now I see him for what he is: a self-satisfied engineer who thinks he gets to control everyone and everything around him. I am going to grind my teeth to dust, holding back biting responses to him telling me what to do constantly. I did snap at him when he asked how I knew I wasn't rewarding bad behavior in my kid by saying "she is a human, not an animal to be trained" (not that I would train an animal but I'm not ready to open up that much). I just want to let him know who I really am and say "people like me mail bombs to people like you."


alex wrote

damn good luck


bloodrose wrote

I dated a guy just like him years ago. It seriously fucked my brain. I'm trying to push him in small ways. He said of the girl he was dating currently that he needed a girl willing to give up their career for him and I told him, no, you need a woman who has a career that exists in multiple locales. It was a nudge in the right direction for the poor poor girl dating him. She might be hanging out with us tomorrow. I may just have to say "why?" to her fucking face. haha.. no, i'll be good. I'll behave. My teeth will survive. I may be drinking right now, why do you ask?