cat!! :)

https://bsky.app/profile/matisse.bsky.social/post/3jv7ub74tpw2u

reject and reject and reject. it’s ridiculous. but let’s be real! to become more pragmatic, i should look into a useless master’s.

learn mathematics among the theater kids. go to tech school and study philosophy. live in community and end up with a more aggressive individualism. spend time with accountants and become dreamy and idealistic.

firm up your religious belief via interfaith dialogue and deconstruct them at church.

all these meta-thoughts all the time and no object ones. i still don’t know what to do with myself.

(it’s not true, i’ve been plenty irresponsible before; thoughtfully. no it didn’t work out well, but no it’s not that i regret it either.)

but i’ve GOT TO. i’ve never taken a risk in my life i’ve never made a decision. cheap thrills aren’t the point but i’ve got to try towards it, grasping grasping grasping

i can’t do it directly (tragedian? idealist? who knows) it’ll take some kind of external project, can’t keep my eye on the prize, gotta just give myself up to the work and see what gets obsolete and what oozes out

what would it be like to let go! just for a moment! of being this person in this shape! i love this shape this shape is fine (“my lumps are just lumps”) but imagine! just for a moment! taking a different shape! just for the hell of it!

“why do we stay the same? because of our ceaseless resolutions not to change” the book says, or maybe the tweet say. and it’s me! here! wholesome as ever, ceaselessly! but i WANT to give it a try

what would i learn just from trying? why is that even the question? do not progress! do not grow! do not optimize yourself! you do not have to be everything! you do not have to be complete! and yet.

you won’t know if you never try! if you can’t manage a good satanic ritual, why not try a bad one? it does not have to be perfect all the time! that is the whole point!

it’s just another kind of arrogance, thinking debauchery beneath me. what will i turn my nose up at next, as i wait to stand in line to receive the eucharist. body and blood.

“there are no good satanic rituals,” i say, wishing that the activities deemed as dissolute could redeem me but thinking them unworthy; drugs and gambling won’t get at that god-shaped hole inside me, won’t get at that un-shaped whole inside me

i’m so clumsy with it. “i want to get a tattoo i’ll regret,” i claim. a woman who has never seen recklessness in her life. my body is a temple i’m afraid. i’m not actually going to get a tattoo, i dyed my hair purple for the second time but it will have washed out in a month.

eros, you know, or reality. the luminous dark. rules are no rules at all.

it’s not that there’s something inside me that needs to get out

have been wholesome through and through a long time, no tendency against it

but it just seems like there’s something in the world i could stand to make acquaintance with

but clearly i'm getting somewhere because my partner can now tell that things are jokes *before* i say they are

because it's kind of hard to tell, i don't say things that are ... funny