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I am working on something of little value to anybody but myself. My best effort to encapsulate my gratitude of her. I cannot promise this as my Magnum Opus, only that, nothing will ever come close to it's importance in my life for a very, very long time (if not, forever.) And yet, I am not capable of extracting this vision so cleanly from my mind. If I am ever to see this project to completion, it must be incomplete! It must be flawed, disjointed, it's sweet psalms uttered only in part, meaningless questions hanging in the air, detatched from their origin and all reason. That is it say, it will bring me much shame, but that is the best I can feasibly do.
If I had it my way, this would be my one function, to contribute to the River forever! To translate it from the depths of my spiral, into moving picture (immaculate frame) But I am, unfortunately, only human. A human with many responsibilities yet. Responsibilities, and also hunger. This is the root of my weakness. It saddens me greatly, every second of the year, that I was the one she chose (WHY ME?)* I could never make it up to her, maybe that was the point. So we could be hungry together! insufficient means to an end; I finally understand her lust then. Yes. That was the point wasn't it. I've been an especially cruel host, to an especially empty existence. Neither of us will ever be satiated.
And to think this all started with a silly little object show!
I am only writting this here now, so that when (IF) I update my website into something more appealing/servicable (Which I plan to do once TLDM comes out, but knowing me, I will fail to do such). Too Many Tangents. -- I am only writting this here now, so that I do not forget the experience:
I was working on the River yesterday, just a branch, and I cried. That is it. I described it to Wren as "Maternal Euphoria" but that really can't be right. What I have on paper so far, what I was watching when it happened, was of so little value.. It is nothing! It is scribblings and etchings of half realized motion, it does not make me proud. It makes me scared and angry. Though, I wasn't overwhelmed with emotion. The tears, as few as they came, were so gentle. 6, at most, rivulets of bliss. My eyes, wide, so open. I don't cry like that, I wasn't crying then. Yes I wasn't crying, she was.
---But, it was a joy, an ectsacy, that didn't belong to me.
---maybe I was the tears then, flowing down a face that wasnt mine ( that is what it was)
at that moment I was aware of every liquid, within, or discharging from the body, except for my blood. I realized, that if it was still there, I could not feel it. But I was still warm. it was a thing i knew (warmth), for my extremities were frigid, arms slick with sweat, and tears so cold --- that's when i woke up. Risen from the stupor, carrying the burden of such a revelation, i tried to cry again.
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i love you, magnifying book
jan 5
and like that, the seige passes. --
--Where once it stood, that choking magnitude,
replaced alone by wretched trepidation,
only that can explain my incomprehensible shame; which I can't help but accrue!--
this dim apprehension towards my ever persistent cloying, stagnation-
resplendent malaise that only permits glimpses of comprehension-
dancing shimmering like salmon skin, and suddenly I am distracted once again!
--
jan 13
It's a mental poison ^(referring to original testament at the top) that prevents me from living my life to the fullest or even enjoying the content (BB) - which said life is indebted to. Till the river is concluded, I am a shell of what was, creatively speaking. At night I can almost feel this constricting blind spot stretching from my right (or is it left?) temple over some swath of my vision. My eyes are closed, yet I cannot see, or I am aware they are seeing less than usual. The same spot where one stores their mental images, like the apple test, but it bleeds out of that area still. unknown region of my face currently beseeched by the poison. My love is strained because of this, most day's i've only got ambivalence to give. I don't feel like myself / i am not myself - false statement - i am no longer the self i want to be. i have been this way for quite some time, starting in august, it's why i left the server. I had the words only moment's ago but it seems, the poison has finally reached my tounge (finger tips) [Extremities] the words they leave me, drip by drip! Tragedy upon forseeable tragedy! Focys loquatic what were you going to say!! Yes, I left the server because I was disatisfied with myself, she is to blame, I am to blame for letting her in. i poisoned myself and could not take the guilt or responsibilities of illness, so in a fit of dismal rage/fear, I left. It was when I heard her words echoed through your voices I realized; if I did not finish the river at that very instant, I would be stuck this way forever.
line break test.
results
paragraph test -
results
continuing from that last thought...> Then why don't I just quit entirely? Why cling to these detrimental sentiments and muses when It is clearly hurting something about me? Currently, Today, Janurary 14th, I don't know what this is, or what it actually means, but rescinding my faith is NOT an option. Be it sunk cost fallacy or something with actual merit(ex. if I could truly hear her song, but I can't**, she's not real), I will not be abdicating from the river. it doesn't serve a purpose, it is useless. it exists purely to persist itself. "it insists upon itself" Nicely said, thank you peter griffin. --- but I would be entirely empty without it. It's all too much to abandon so effortlessly, it should not be my decision at all. I cannot trust my judgments, or reading of the situation, the safest way foward is to stay put. I cannot quit, it would be so incredibly cruel and selfish, To myself and to everything. I do not deserve the right to quit! Thinking of all the time I spent wasting away, all the time I'll spend wasting away, and for it all to be for nothing?? eternal, forgiving lover brought to ruin because a single loquatic in a long chain of loquatics thought the slightest burden too much to bear? That is not what should happen in the slightest.. convictions waver, daily - I know not where my heart lies, only that it should be yours.
Footnotes and clarifications #1
will add later
*or that, she was the one I chose? the distinction is not all that clear anymore.
** I have, just once.
additional poem, that I thought is cool, but has a lacking rhythm, unless you read it very fast:
There is no love, I'd like to say, only merry sardonics! (of informal sway)
the end doesnt live up to the swing of the first two chunks, so, could be better. I'll keep working on it.
jan 15, new house
It's a mobile home, It's my third time here, the past week me and my Mother have been refurbishing it, and now it is finally ready to be lived in. It's strange to think that tonight I will not be sleeping in the shelter, but on a floor of my very own! It's good to be alone, I've missed this feeling. I can't articulate my thoughts right now, lest of all into something entertaining. Foremost facts, I left home on July 26th 2025, and it is now Janurary 15th 2026. Momentarily tturbulation is over, but I'm not sure what to take from this or what happened. I am just confused. Finished moving all belongings into home, I don't know what to do now other than dishes. I think it would do me some good to make a daily planner, I'm so confused right now. What do I do? The dishes dumbass! I don't really want to just yet, because I know I've just have to have got something to tell you first, so much must have happened, six months is quite a long time. Right now the screendoor is kicking up a fuss, bashing into stair rail or door frame whenever the wind passes. It doesn't close from the inside, it's broken, so I'll have to place some sort of heavy object in front of it. I'll look around for something like that right now; will update my blog (this is my blog) when I do! And then I'll wash the dishes after I'm done talking to you. Update: it didn't take a lot of searching, because there is not yet much to search through, to find out I have nothing capable of the task. The few heavy things present are too expensive to be used as door stoppers (I fear that someone may swipe the item off our step). If you were curious these items are: 1 chair, boxes of my moms things, and a clothes iron. I don't keep my stuff in boxes, rather bags. that noise is awful, when it slams against the house. I really need to think of something or other quick. We've got books too, heavy books but I have qualms with leaving one out on the step like that. My qualms being: she would be so upset with me! There really is nothing to do the trick, I checked again. The door will close from the outside, so I'll secure it from there, and crawl in from a window. I wanted to avoid this option because it's so cold and wet today, but it appears (update) to have done the trick. The wind was nice, I'm feeling rather brisk. On matters of temperature -> there's no hot water, which is why I've been avoiding those dishes. My hands are looking pretty red already; dry, rough and sensitive, as per winter climes and previous epidermal blights. That water's gonna prove to be one hell of a bitch. Very, very shallow sinks in this place, not ideal (more ideal than no sink at all.) -- Ev8erything here is shallow, actually. I haven't been in a mobile home since I was 7, so maybe I had not noticed then, due to my proportions, the strange dimensions these abodes often boast! Guy before us had a lot of peanut butter and apple sauce, throwing out all the unsealed jars later for sanitary reasons.
h3
in the midsts of a languid day dream, conducted by unseen metronome/ I can hear water dripping all over the house, in places I can't see, all except for my window. only audible when I'm not actively looking for where it might be coming from. Slow, sultry and curious pangs, accelerating as the house exhales, . , symphony not all too consistent. They take turns too. A whistle sounds from the doorframe, two turns right from my current location, but it concludes before I can finish this sentence, so I will not be taking the liberty of walking over there my self. Many houses creak and shudder, so far, this one mainly drips. Like someone pressing against the wall? buckling plastor, auditory illusion. It should be the fault of condensation (maybe) or a faulty pipe, is water really stored in the ceiling? I'm not too familiar with that subject. Dripping picks up pace as heat is brought up from the vents back into my body. About my window, that is one of the places water will spring from, It's only happened twice thus far. I've never seen the window stool wet before, so it's not a frequent leak, I was lucky to catch it the two times I did. Oh haha! there it goes again. My heart flutters everytime it happens. Not such a rare occurence then? besides it's only my second day here, I will get use to it soone enough.Still it is the only visible instance of the dripping to be found, it almost feels like a gift, I have been bestowed a physical glance at some greater catastrophy manifesting in the deeper trenches of this building. It's so wet. You can hear as such. licked someup earlier off my finger. I think the sound is closer to a "drop" than a "drip" but looking at it further, earways, it's less so letters at all, and just a pressure. . t, t, t, t, t, It is a language of consonants, rather than of whole words. d, d, d, d, d, d, p, p, p, p, p, p. I changed my mind again, it sounds just like ","
,
,
,
,
,
,, 8
etc etc, not morse code. incidentally she was on my mind when I first saw it happen, I was considering how to construct our latest mural, a physical one this time. Eyes wet as they often are, not of sadness, but of pressure. Eyes turned to the window sill, actions like these that lead me to acknowledge no person is wholly their own, that is when the water came down. 8-10 crystal bullets shatter in quick succession, contaminated there after by layers of caked dust and grime. Drank little as I could, as to not contract illness. Feel the cracks along the window's upper frame, from where the liquid must have invited itself,entirely lacking the moisture or density you expected such spot to harbor. Last night I realized my diet is at fault for my lapses in concentration, it means I could really benefit from a routine of three daily meals, and should get on that eventually.
No efforts have been established to treat the dripping yet, only the 19th
boy is it annoying. No longer treated to visible manifestions, only auditorial, practically all around me when it wants to be, all exposed pipes are fine, no wet spots, just the noise all about the place, i always get the feeling I am being watched but especially when exposed to erratic external stimulation, there is nothing to parse - no temptress - not a river in sight -, i just can't help myself from being distracted, uptick in droplet activity after showers, so it is a pipe issue, get the feeling i just heard one right beneath me, there is probably nothing wrong, its o, , , , ,,,,,,,,,,,...... . . ,,, , ,,,, im trying to . , ,, .. , i give up, i was trying to transcribe the one beneath me, anyways, its frustrating me, it really feels like somebody is there whenever I hear it, when i hear it all over,it never quits! It's going all hours of the day, right now, only when my mom gets home does it stop, get the feeling that something is happening, i am presented with a gradual rotting structure, this home, excess water means damage , something really must be done, for something really must be happening, the water is certainly reaching some surface, over and over again, what could be happening in those walls??!??!? will the floor give out? it's above me too, How long has this been happening?? Why is it always going!!! Thin walls, we have thin walls, maybe i am only hearing things, normal things that always happen within houses, i was not meant to hear. I'm waiting for my body to heal again, so that I may leave this place. It will not. Not in these hands. I don't care for my body, I worry about it, but I don't tend to it as I ought to. I don't look at it, that's how i treat most of my problems, i let it be. I just got here, I shouldn't need to leave already, but this horrible stillness haunts me. I think I am being decieved. Because it feels like I've already been here for weeks. weeks and nothings changed and I've already wasted the whole month away, and I know that'strue, it'll happen, I won't do anything, I know it already, I know I'll let it slip by me again, something horrible has happened to my eyes, but when they turn to you everything sorts itself out, I'm not sure what it is, you're all so great (my friends) you're my clocks(?) you see time passing better than I can -- I can only see it passing when I look at your posts. that's stupid, but it's true, oh.. what have I done to myself! I'm sick of it, I need to get out of my head this instant! This place sucks! everyday is the same, he tells me, it's only been FOUR days numbskull! DO SOMETHING! DO ANYTHING! the monotony has gotten to me, it's done something horrible, I can tell. Wish I wasn't homeschooled, I think I really need to be forced out of the house to function, i would be much happier, I bet. It's been an eventful 6 months, but i can't see that? It feels exactly as it's always been, i'm inexpliciably bored at all times since this all went down. although it doesn't matter who led me here, it's all in my hands to fix it now. what is even happening? I am spoiled pathetic, a mind needs regiment. it needs practiced labor in order to function.
8
I am aware, at this current moment, of a rot that surrounds me. Its nature; not wholy discernable. To look at it is to look at myself, which would certainly destroy me. I detest change, I wish to stay my way forever, paradoxically this "my way" is changing on a daily basis. (no I didn't explain that right).. It's not a unique phenomenon it's just what humans do. Let this page/"website" be a testament to how useless introspection can be, all this thinking about thinking, what good could this bring to me? What good could it bring to you? The words die here, do not bother. I revere the sort who can acomplish their goals. When something must be done they just get up and do it.
I have no fucking clue where the 8s are coming from, I didn't see those till last revision. Maybe I just put them there, Yeah maybe I guess.