A brain cannot grow without changing its pattern.

I wonder what the odds were last March (there are only so many times you can hear this without repeating it), when I said out loud for the very first time in memory, “I’ll just kill myself,” (shocking even myself into pondering whether I really were suicidal (I wasn’t and turns out I never have been)) that the very next thing said to me would be, “Good, nobody wants you here.”

I’m like a horse, pulling gets us nowhere.

If this 💩 ain’t obvious by now, I suppose it never shall be.

48-48 ain’t tied… it’s an admission you don’t know where to stick the remaining 4%

I like that Stevie Nicks made me cry

The nerve on me to respond that the cat has been getting up and going downstairs regardless of whether I touch the top of her head and say good night to her as I get into bed. I totally deserve this for not saying what she wanted to hear. No, really. I do.

Under 30 days left and I just this morning heard y’all on two different programs asking the right question… the one I asked four years ago (and settled on a solution for three years ago). I guess we’ve slid from six months behind to four years behind.

That is a yes on the No Drama Lama

There’s a party all the time for them what choose

I bet step one is to let the adrenaline drain.

When you reach out to her sister.

The mental hurdles make my legs sore.

Not really sure why the fuck I’m still posting this shit.

We are sitting at something close to 53/47 as we near the home stretch. How quickly races are called next month, in combination with how representative the turnout, shall be the two violence modifiers in our equation (since y’all are no closer to diagnosing (and subsequently treating) our dual reality democracy than y’all were four years ago).

Philosophy is the calculus of unknowable sets.

Also… nowhere looks an awful lot like now here

The next nation to drop a nuclear bomb loses. Nowhere is far enough away anymore.

Read the room, Kim. Nobody is interested in hearing from you right now.

There are only two ways to resolve a shared space without a shared reality.

I may be done bearing the bulk of the weight of this facade I never really wanted to erect.

fuckEveryone + timeToKill =

I oughta record all this fucking noise and blast it back at them once their fucking house is up. 8:45a and I have to put noise canceling headphones on without a GD thing I feel like listening to just to inhabit my fucking home. My world has been fucking mute since April.

Okay, Lingzi, let’s see where your Great Evil Dragon takes us.

If doctors were in the least bit equipped for thinking laterally, they’d ask old folks about the histories of their progeny. Were this the case, my father’s doctor would learn that he’d endowed me with his ADHD, while my mother’s would find out she’d dressed me in her dysthymia. Leaving dysthymia untreated must blow.