I forgot Bluesky existed. Probably for the better. I have a very Sad Boy™ account.

I won't fix anything, but I will acknowledge it.

It's not worth the pain to feel love.

I'm ashamed of my most benign thoughts. Perhaps I'm not enough for myself.

I didn't believe in the animus until I was introduced to people's private Twitter accounts.

An ancient Chinese proverb says that "You must never ask the farmer what side of the island the elevators are on."

Due to the adverse effects of climate change, I'm afraid Ice Spice is now Water Spice.

When did God get so merciful? I'm pining for a return to Biblical punishment.

I’m still unsure if I’m constipated or envious of shitting.

I'm still unsure if I'm frustrated by or envious of ignorance.

It is on quiet nights such as these that I am consumed by thoughts of the past. A past that exclusively my mind is aware of. Sometimes tragedy ruminates, other times rose tinted nostalgia.

All I can do is contemplate.

I don't have a lot to say. I really-- Where's Bluesky?

My favorite pastime is seeing the posts of new people joining this website, reading their lists of interests, determining that we are highly compatible, and choosing to completely ignore them.

I find hatred difficult. Conversely, however, joy is impossible.