5.31.25 + 4:17 PM

SHOTGUN MUCUS

woke up at 9 am today, went back to sleep instead, slept until 3 or 4. just trying to overload brain with sleep so i don't wear myself to the thick slippery bones. i had a dream about swaying and crying in a supermarket, about getting my foot stuck in a trap door of a well, that was only the width of my shoe, but somehow swallowed my whole body beneath the earth. i slipped down beneath rock and dirt, and each foot and hand on a pull lever pressure plate that flushes me down to the white and pink bright rooms of dollanganger tower. the girls down there all were frightening, ghosts of corpse faces and twisted up fear. i could see myself and the other person through a diagram, where i was in the well trap, the great tower of fear and dollanganger attic bodies was full of ghosts. it was some sort of tower, or lighthouse, it felt both beneath the earth and far above it, and i could hear the thunderstorm falling outside. then i dreamt about myself in my nightgown, feeling like i was so lost and exhausted while my friends shopped in a bright grocery store. my angel in the form of bookseller came over to me, and tried to gently place his hand against the crook of my neck. my recognition of my angel was so soft, overwhelming, like drowning in dark ocean foam. feeling him and his knowning eyes, my bare feet against the freezer aisle linoleum were cold and hurting, each line of freezers a monument. i felt loss, i could feel my body simultaneously up in the tomb of the well somehow above me in the dirt, my angel in the body of the bookseller of my waking life told me i could go to sleep, that i needed to rest, that i didn't look so good. i wandered around these beautiful displays of purple and blue olives. i felt like i was falling under anesthesia, then i woke up back int he dirt, my whole body crushed in stone and dirt, and i was back on the surface again, and i slipped my foot in to the brick again, and fell into the well, controting to fit right into the well again. i felt afraid for the pain of death, i knew i'd remain a ghost, and therefore experiencing the moment of my death to slip down into the dollanganger hospital brightness meant to feel the pain of the rock suffocating and thrusting into my neck. i only woke up to the real world, when my fingers pushed for fresh air in the dirt, and i felt a breeze on my face. i then woke up.

5.28.25 + 4:51 AM

DEGREE OF SEPARATION BETWEEN MY CIGAR LIPS

my new therapist is interesting. she asks a lot of questions, and we have a lot more direct engagement. the degrees of separation between the different pages of my mind are sticking together, and causing some kind of crazy disgust pain. my room reflects it. what was once decent, i got a lot thrown away and cleaned out, is now ruled by blood and trash and my self-neglect and exhuaustion. if i shame myself, i'll curl further away from progress. i want to clean, but i'm always so afraid of the people in this house going through my trash for each individual item like they have in the past. the lack of a degree of separation between my parts is a necrosis inside of my brain. whenever i feel threatened by the overwhelm of disgust and hatred, my cognition and motor skills just deteriorate, i can barely remember my plans i make in the morning, actions, thoughts, there's like a complete lack of stream of consciousness, becuase i realize i really have to be here in the doll, and operate it, but not in a steam pressure exploding my joints and bones way, not in a sinking deep into the machinery metamorphosis, i have to sit there with my bare body on the chair and feel the necrosis swallowing and sucking on me. i even have accidents because i feel so disgusting my body just gives up and dies when feeling the magnetic sickness throbbing down my torso.

there's enough to be negative about in life. yesterday i got a black raspberry donut, and it was the only thing i ate besides spring melon tea. it just feels so sad when i get back to the house, and i wilt into a disugsting mush in my bed, take off all my clothes and writhe in pain, feeling so wilted, like all my life got strung out of me like pulling mucus. it's bizarre and disheartening. i hope i can force myself to clean.

5.27.25 + 1:10 AM

WHITE BRIEFCASE

déjà rêvé. i have it every 6 months, specific light patterns and organ weights inside me, and key words instantly snap into place, for just a second, and i can remember the dream this already happened in, or the subconscious movie strip that's burning in the background of thinking. bizarre and stupid, like thunder crackling along my sternum, i already did this, while i was sleeping. i did this. this time, it was about medication for the cat. i was on the phone, talking about what medication that should be picked for my cat. the voice on the phone said "you should pick the shot". the purple light from my tv aligned perfectly with the dark pile of clothes, and the glow from my candle warmer, and i already had this conversation months ago in a dream.

though i frequently have nightmares, i can only feel comfortable about life when i am actively and vividly dreaming. though, most of it is nonsensical sometimes, last night i had a dream about my own house being turned into a sort of disney land house stylized with giant wall crowning, clouds, like old build a bear almost, or when i went to a make a wish park as a child. i was using a map to navigate. i tried to have sex in my garage upright, which was the garage of my real house, but the garage door remained open, and i stared at the children playing outside and blinking and running around in the lawn, staring, their bikes laying like fawns in my lawn, and i think i was half naked, standing barefoot on the dirty concrete, my body shadowed silhouette and unreadable, my shorts pulled down, my tank top pulled up, i was young because i still had my hair in a long straight braid. i was then back trying to navigate the giant playhouse, i was following Doctor House around, as he side-eyed me, and limped away around corners. i was now in new york, and the funhouse was located on the corner of a street, intersecting with another street. there was a secret layer below, a third bottom floor, and i walked around endlessly trying to access it, until Doctor house led me to this underground part past this big theatre within the funhouse. it was full of pipes and walkways, and i could never exactly follow him, while he called out different street names and passwords to access the bottom floor. i got to the door, i could hear loud music pumping, it was red under there, red light and shadowed bodies flickering, my heart was pumping hard and nervously along with the bass, but i was unable to get in. i even went into grand central station which was fused with a library and museum desk, and tried to follow Doctor House through there but to no avail. what did the dream mean? who knows.

it's funny, i used to believe Doctor House was one of my real doctors who performed surgery and excised my intestines as a child. i believed it for so long it was almost comical. i would see him on DVDs or on the internet and just think "yeah, he's one of the real doctors i would see in the children's hospital." some crosswires in my brain was only able to come up with something so easily disprovable, yet i believed blindly into my teens for no real reason other than i had no wish to challenge it. i had no curiousity and it meant only a recognition of someone i had known before. how stupid is that? i even one time looked right in the face of the actual surgeon at my children's hospital, and thought "that's not what i remember you looking like...". his face i tried to morph in to Doctor House, but could not manage it.

where was he leading me last night? his face was almost twisted up in concern or pity, but i just couldn't follow. whatever password and hint he gave me about the cross sections of streets and addresses in New York didn't click in my head, and the dark red pulsing room underneath the disney-funhouse was inaccessible.

5.24.25 + 4:19 PM

STUPID DAY AND NIGHT

wake up from nightmares, but does it really matter? i'm really angry today. my dream was bizarre, but not too much of note. i dreamt about watching swaths of people all holding hands in broken roads as they flooded getting steamrolled by trucks and cars and splattered everywhere, and i'm in the backseat, and the road in front of us is twisting and moving and spiraling and the rain won't stop, and i'm praying in my sleep. then, i got back to the "dollhouse" (where i was staying with many other girls) and there was a terribly large beetle with great red eyes trying to first get in through the screen window over the sink, and the terrible buzzing of its wings, and the lace curtains fluttering, then it got stuck in magnets, and i was screaming for my f*th*r to help, and i kept trying to back away and run under a table, but the giant beetle kept following and buzzing and no one was coming to help me, and i woke up suddenly sweating and clutching my mocha plush, and all i could smell was blood that's sunk deep into my comforter, and the blood running down my face, and my skin rotting without washing. i went back to sleep.

im so angry today. i feel smothered and disgusting. it's like i died. all things i remember yesterday seem out of character and confusing. i feel so ugly and horrible. my m*******************m always has nightmares, and when i can hear her "screaming and crying" i hate with so much frothy and terrible anger i want to slam my head on the corner of the wall until my brain gushes out from my eyesockets. i hate it so much. does everything have to feel like constant molestation?

one of my favorite writers made a follow up piece to what i consider one of their greatest works. it was saddening, it was mostly discussing the dampening of their soul and personality and how they've stripped themselves down to what's passionless, in all other passions they've had they consider to be simply egregore. i thought it was stimulating, but it did make me sad, though, i can't say maybe this passionless altar is a safer place for them than their ribboned passionate self that was vibrant in suffering. it truly made me consider how interwoven my own suffering is with my identity, and if it was all stripped away from me, would i be left a motionless statue? it doesn't scare me, though i am still in the throes of tightly holding and guarding, bearing my teeth and drooling senselessly, beating my head and limbs into limp submission when feeling that this sacred monument, a testament to this hell, is tainted or touched or filling over with dust. i guess in their theory, i would be considered the worst kind of egregore holder, that each fragment inside is its own living being within my heart, that beats and screams and suckles like any other mammal. which is worse? does it really matter? i guess not, you should really just pick whatever is most comfortable and gives you the best quality of life. though, i'm my own worst hypocrite, as i seem to go against all markers of quality of life in order to preserve and soothe myself from tainting and molestation feelings.

i haven't been this part of me in a while, perhaps i emerged from the sickness and anger of last night. i don't know. i have a hankering to get my side project done with already, i just want to work on my own stuff, i've neglected my own site for way too long, and now it's a practical "egregore" in the sense of it looks like to me the fleshy trembling forearms of a part of me that's not going to be here for a long time, which makes me sad.

i wish being awake wasn't so painful. i tried to cut up fruit today to eat, one plum, one pear, and i ate one cannoli. my stomach hurt so much last night from not eating. whenever i'm sick i just don't eat enough, i think i just made pastina with bitter broth each day. one ginger drink in the morning, then a bowl of bitter pastina, that's it. i am just relieved i don't have eardrum blistering again. it always feels like i won't survive the pain.

not much to do today but just try and bathe without feeling like my skin is being peeled and penetrated off of my body.

5.23.25 + 4:27 PM

ROSEBLOOD

i got sick. woke up today with a massive bloody nose. blood all over my legs and my face. glad it's over. probably because i took a nyquil. i am so afraid of getting eardrum blisters again. i'm trying to have no sugar. my daily routine consists of waking, drinking a ginger shot, drinking electrolytes, spinning around the kitchen dizzily, making pastina, then tea, then sleep. i can feel my muscles and flexors wasting away, it's frustrating. i just can't be surprised, i'm sick. there's blood on my mattress cooling pad. i don't want to sleep in my bed, i feel disgusting. dreams are long and interesting. feeling just dizzy and fatigued most of the time. i'm happy that it's rainy season right now. i think i'll need help after im sick getting back on my feet.

working currently on my side project, but i hope that as soon as it's finished i can get back to revamping my site, and finishing my own personal projects. i always feel i have more motivation for working on stuff for other people.
then, i want to continue writing.

5.20.25 + 11:28 PM

COLD HUNGER

i lost the poetry contest i entered. if i got so upset with every rejection, i'd be reduced to a weeping hump of flesh on the floor, so i can't think too much about losing out on prize money and publication. life goes on, there will be many more rejections in the future, until i triumph.

had a miserable trip out into the city with bookseller and blonde friend. it started off good. bookseller paid for our hotel, it was not cheap, but originally we were going to do a comic-con, but it was too expensive, so they decided on a weekend in the city. he covered my half, blonde said she'd cover her half, but she should get a discount since she's driving. so he just told her not to worry about it. i paid for our food, (around 400 dollars for everywhere we ate and got snacks). i didn't want blonde to come to the comic con, i don't like hanging out with her in general. even after hanging out with her consistently for a year, i just never felt i knew her at all. on this trip she was constantly upset, being passive aggressive, giving me and bookseller the silent treatment, and it was miserable. he'd offer to buy me some cheap trinket, and then i would thank him. he'd tell her "don't worry let me know if you want something too, i can get you a labubu" (that popular keychain that's being taken over by scalpers) she instead gets angry and says "of course you pick the one thing that we won't be able to find!". even though the hotel was paid for, and i was covering every food bill, i guess it was just not enough for her. every moment was an opportunity for a sigh, an eyeroll, a jab or neg, it was like walking on eggshells trying to make her happy. i'd do my best to make her laugh or cheer her up, and we'd all be on the floor laughing, then not 5 minutes later she'd shrink into anger and resentment about something she wouldn't say.

we extended the trip by a day at her suggestion. what a mistake. she grilled bookseller about paying her for his half of this extra hotel night (he never got her portion of the hotel money), and so i paid for both his and my half of the hotel. i don't know why she extended the trip if she was so upset everyday. more silent treatment, our final day in another town she refused to speak to bookseller, who was so sick he couldn't stand. he became so sick because of the stress, as the next day he was basically better, but in town with her he was sweating, his face was pale, and he was swaying on his feet. nothing would get her to speak or be interested. any activity, tickets boguht for her, food paid for, jokes made or conversation started ellicited nothing but singular word answers and silence, and the face of boredom and disapproval. i tried my best to make her feel better, but all i could manage was brief people pleasing-ish conversation where she would just nod or make an approving noise and then nothing else.

i don't know how to approach this situation. i don't really know who she is. i know almost nothing about her personal life or inner world. i just don't know what the hell was going on.

what a shitty end to the weekend. i just am shaking my head, feeling crestfallen and defeated. things will get better. but right now, i am feeling pretty rotten and just mad. i wish i was back at my cousins house honestly. so i could just stay there and have routine and be away from all these monsters. i hate being at this house. it is like torture.

i just feel sick and dirty.

5.10.25 + 9:21 PM

MY LONELY FREEZER CAKE

realized i left a cake layer i baked in the freezer for the past week. oops.

5.8.25 + 11:31 PM

NEWYORK

stayed upstate with my cousins for a while. i found out something really awful that my "br******th*********r" said about me. i feel defeated. he comes back to the house tomorrow. i am pretty numb right now which i am grateful for. i am really really upset, he said a really horrible lie about me. i know it isn't true, and it seems like no one believed him. my cousins said that he was laughing when he told them, and they all said they didn't believe him at all, because he is such a liar. apparently he prefaced this with going on a long tangent about how i'm a slob, how i sleep all day, and how worthless and terrible i am. it makes me so mad and angry and scared. i just feel like i am fighting a war with no armor, and no lance, and i have no shoes on either and i'm fighting in the mud. everyone else is on horses, and i can't run fast enough, and my feet are sinking and sticking in the mud. what he said was really horrible, and triggering, and i don't know how i am going to live with him the whole summer. i am trying to look at this in the best way possible, but i just feel defenseless, and disgusting. i feel so sick. i hpoe my new therapist can help me.

living at my cousin's house is like being a little girl again. my cousins are disabled, so most of the day revolves around nap/quiet time, for when they need to rest and recover their energy. so the day usually starts out very late, we get breakfast and take all the medications for the morning, do some chores or bake, then it's quiet and resting until nighttime, then at nighttime we have dinner and watch a movie (usually a barbie movie or a reality tv show i want to watch, or soemthing like azumanga daioh or luckystar) then we talk for a little and then it's time for bed again. my cousin's house is full of dolls, i think they have the most dolls i've ever seen any family own. their rooms are very warm and inviting, and i like the windows that you can watch the rain come down outside. they are very quiet and timid people, which is nice, as it feels peaceful and not a lot of pressure. i like during quiet time, i can work out and stretch and color. it has changed a lot since i used to just get sent there when i was bad. now, it's different.

i am happy to be back and be able to use my computer. i can't wait to finish my art. i am making a new design for my website, but it's been sidelined for another side project. i hope i can be more productive. i want to get my liscence this summer, so i hope i can do that too. i hope i can work more on my projects.