https://youtu.be/MCvYUaQXnE8

sitting at the bar im most comfortable at and having just had a very heavy and existential conversation with a friend, am truly wondering how it is going to be in the near distant future for all of us, collectively speaking... im nervous for everyone now, everyone i know is having the most difficult time. and everyone is so broke, we're guilting ourselves in buying groceries. this country is so broken.... this is just not right at all. and its making me mad, for everyone.

I love the person that wrote this.

Day 31

Modelo, can I be your new quarantine spokeslady? I'm ready to sell out just for you!

Day.... 17.

Well THIS is where I relate this to the Oregon Trail... morale is so/so and basic food supplies are low (just basics: bread, almond milk, tomatoes) BUT! a friend of mine is going to steer their wagon (vehicle) my way today and drop off said food items to me since they're going to pick up groceries anyways... wouldn't have made it to Day 17 without the support system that is East Rock (and it's inhabitants! :D) morale is mostly so/so because I'm still awaiting unemployment.... it's basically all set up and ready to go, but, no one (at least from what I've gathered btwn a few other service friends) has received anything yet. That and combating insomnia and sleeping at random ass hours - have been getting headaches a bit more frequently and I need to moderate my coffee intake... ... my dad sent me a bunch of my old dvds, so I'm just gonna go get lost in those for a while.

Day 7 of No Service but Day 9 of me not working, personally

For me, Sundays and Mondays were my days off. and after the weirdest Friday and Saturday night at work of my life, the 13th and 14th, the end of the last week I'd be working - for an indeterminable amount of time... I bonded with my fellow service industry workers over some of our last pints out, and sequestered away we went. 'The killing time... unwillingly mine...' it's been a lot of time to process, to listen to myself, to find out things I've ignored about myself that I'm frustrated I've been too flustered to realize ... but I'm honestly coming back to feeling a little more human / myself, through this, as scary of a situation it seems. I'm used to be being by myself, and I actually kind of feel for people who don't know how to feel comfortable by themselves, with just, themselves. No pets, no people, no distractions involving money or gambling or sports --- just to simply reconnect with ourselves might be the finest silver lining in the silver linings of this disastrous debacle. oh, I've got plenty of time oh, I've got light in my eyes - Talking Heads, revised for single people

Day 7 of No Service Industry Service / Isolation / Pandemic 2020

it takes a pandemic for guys to really truly open up to me about how they wish they could 'do things' with me after I've been really good at being single and just getting myself off, seeing as I thought none of them cared enough to bother with me on equal levels of, uh, caring? well, we can discuss it all we'd like, and you can tell me how you wish I could come over, or you wish you could stay over, and sure we can run some hot steamy sexting back and forth a bit - y'know, for the sake of at least getting each other off in the comforts of our own places during such an anxiety filled time, you can send whatever pictures you wish, and I may send a few, but honestly? that's about it. dating was a clusterfuck of a mess before the pandemic, now it's either going to be non-existent, or like finding a fucking needle in a haystack. or I'm just going to be sexting fantasies with certain people to get myself off and am just going to leave it at that.

O__O

Random blog update. It's really late. Tried taking something to fall asleep. instead having hallucinations of creepy black satiny wisps of shape shifty spirits running back and forth on the floor between my bed and the radiator. It could just be one singular creepy mini babadook. :[ Also rather unfortunate: in this current state of being, am noticing how badly the wall I press my back against in bed shakes with the 91 overpass right outside my window. oh, and I realized I suck for not even trying to write anymore, even if it's sufferin' bowl of succotash. so, in this and thwarted attempts at sleep to come, I'll just write about what fucking sucks. Like the rumbly feelings of the semis passing will one day just crumble it to the ground, because the house rumbled all the damn long day and night. Or one will go careening off of the overpass one day and fly right into this place. It reminds me of having the highway outside of my window of the SECOND house I lived in, in Glastonbury, and all the sleepless nights I had there. The internet was so much more fun in high school... people would actually chat longer than five minutes. If you can get five... these days. this is also where I'll admit, I've got some thoughts cooking up my sleeve. Actual legitimate creative endeavors. Can't say anything more because I will never let myself jinx myself ever again by telling anyone what I aim to accomplish - it always sets me up for failure - and there is nothing stopping me now. yes, I will have these shitty fucking days where I stay in bed practically the entire two days off because my body is mentally/physically scrapped (and due to the resurgence of colder weather, everything hurts) but it's also in these days I think the most, especially when I'm trying to heal myself out of the wreck I used to be. Still having not so great moments once in a while, and drinking less at night means serious struggles with sleep (used to rely on heavy amounts to put me TO sleep) ... it will be a never-ending battle; at my best have found myself enjoying a few miller high lifes, and all's well. I'd like to have some of the calm, creative, social confidences I once had back... they'd pair well with my newer ones. Hopefully this can be some sort of starting point. I need to get out of my head.

"When bullies grow up, they get meaner, yeah, they really get it down."

you wanted to see just how good it feels (to leave)

“The best people possess a feeling for beauty, the courage to take risks, the discipline to tell the truth, the capacity for sacrifice. Ironically, their virtues make them vulnerable; they are often wounded, sometimes destroyed.” ― Ernest Hemingway

everything is overrated.

Stag

hate the police