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entry 2
on being a rape victim growing into a teenage boy, a percieved threat: alternately titled, "why are you running, i am one of you". boyhood is learning to be cruel. naked and damp and shallowly alive, let the the tears mildew in your eyes like the still water of a kitchen sink,the one you were bathed in, now full of flies. learn to love the sight of the barbies you left in the tub, tangled limbs and black mould freckling their plastic grins. throw silverware. dent the couner with your teeth. learn to destroy because staying stagnant will kill you so much faster. remember the first time a girl crossed the street away from you at midnight and you forgot how to breathe for weeks? grasshopper blues ring in your ears when you kneel into the dew-soaked grass, phantom blood running from your thigh, womb and rectum are not distinctions made in a child's mind.
entry 1
i wonder why any semblance of opposition or dignity is viewed as a threat by the elderly. perhaps they suffer from a specfic branch of what i have come to call "epiphienomenalism", of which i admit i cannot in good faith absolve myself, in which they fall under the assumption that every opinion they hold is inherently correct. this particular subset of mind can result in corruption, extremism, and often violence. if one considers themself a prophet, all naysayers will act as judas and all acting in accordance with their delusions will become loyal followers- subjects, even. i often view those who have been influenced by me in any way as automatically inferior beings,
