I just send the last hour and a half writing a blog post and my website crashed and I am going to k*ll all the people at square. The post, as per usual, was funny and brilliant and thought provoking and engaging and not whiny at all. My best one yet and probably the best I would have ever done. And I am so sad for you to not read it. It was about being depressed and not having energy to do anything. And it really is such a beautiful thing that it took everything in me to sit down to write it and then for my work and efforts to be for nothing. What a cute silly little technology reliant world we live in. What a privilege to be alive, you know! Ahh…. well as much as I do not want to write and am now in a terrible mood, I told someone I would write a post today as accountability and so here is going to be the lamest and shittiest thing ever bc I have to get something up but also I would rather die. SOOOOOO…… in short, I am noticing myself aging for the first time in my life. I also thought I would be fine with it. And I do still have my wits about me or whatever that stupid saying it. But it is also freaking me out. I come from a fairly vain family. They would probably hate me for saying that and just call it conscientious. And love them but I have been hyper aware of my skin bag my whole life. I hated the way they were soo aware of themselves, but also like for the first time I like kinda get it HAHA. It’s easy to judge when you are all young and plump and youthful and don’t have a care in the world. But whatever I am still young and hot and I refuse to think about my diminishing value to society and how I will soon be totally irrelevant.

I also was talking about in my original brilliant blog post how I am about to hate crime myself because I am looking my mind in my new apartment. The last 2-3 months have just been insane changes and crazy chaos. And like love the drama but I have no more privacy anymore and I am about to scream. my current room in pretty small so I can’t fit a desk. So I have been sitting in my bed… which feels like I have been put in time out and I hate it with everything in me or I am in public sitting in my living room. Like I love a shitty tv show and I want to watch it in my underwear eating Mac n cheese at 11am in peace. But I have a roommate and she works from home and she’s literally not doing anything wrong but she is just there a lot and I dont have peace and privacy. Unless I am in time out in my bed. Also I am so hyper aware of communal space so I have not been working on art. I don’t have space in my jail cell of a bedroom to work on a project, and I havent been getting into anything because I will have to “clean it up as soon as I am done.” Idk why I put that in quotes but whatever. My creative process is very much lay it out and pick on it over the course of a few days, but I don’t have space to lay it out so I haven’t been creating and it makes me feel itchy and insane also. And also just sad. And also how am I supposed to eventually get out of coffee if I am not working on stuff. Also also my room literally has my bed and a tiny dresser and I dont have clothes chair so I put my clothes on the ground and then they get linty from my rug and I am going to lose my mind. I need my room to be slightly more functional because it is making depressed with a little d not a big d. Not to be serious, but historically I have struggled with depression at times, and I do think my physical space always seems to be the tipping point. If my living environment feels safe and I can properly function and decompress, I can usually cope better with the ever messy and terrible journey of life. But if I dont have a laundry chair then my ability to cope with real things is basically zero. Anyways… it’s picture time…..

Laundry chair incoming

Ooops… I just love to tease a little *insert silly sassy tongue out winking emoji*

Ooops… I just love to tease a little insert silly sassy tongue out winking emoji