Mr. Brightside
Today I'm appreciating that I never experience full-on mania. Instead I get a lot of small manic blips in between psuedo-manias. It's like I'm always on just a little more heroin than meth, but I slip in a little Addy sometimes and that slow releases to really melodramatic hyper-focused bursts of sadness energy and the itches. I stay up reading and scratching and watching and pulling things out of drawers and ottomans and making small islands and doing too much laundry when its dark and the outside is a vast clearing that seems perfect for something to rush through and then i realize that i've got four bottles of shampoo and a new foaming body wash because it was clearanced but it's probably made by children out of baby seal tears and one hundred percent carcinogenic and i'm garbage and all i do is make garbage so much garbage maybe i should open a store that makes soaps that don't have to be packaged but i bet that would be really expensive maybe i should stop buying things that are packaged but that's everything i should start growing my own food and eating things people are going to throw away that will totally offset the oil refineries i live within fifty miles of and i'll be making a difference! YES! I'LL EAT ALL THE GARBAGE...but that garbage also comes from a system that creates waste maybe i should just start eating the leaves that fall from the trees i'll catch them in my mouth running to get them before they hit the ground will be good cardio i hope there are no bugs on them my mask from korea is made of snail sadness is this the hole that amy pohler wrote about in that book that i didn't read because i never read because i'm too busy reading articles about tv and politics and things for class?? IS THIS WHY I DON'T KNOW HOW COMPUTERS WORK???
But I thought of a new show that's really just two shows that I used to like that didn't make it past 3 seasons mashed together.
I'm glad I don't experience real mania. I'm just a regular millennial, saddled with medical debt and education debt and luxury debt. Not one of those daddy's money Millennials the Olds used to write articles about and put on TV. Flitting about in vans across the country because they have oil money to fall back on and connections at WellsFargo. I have to live in a house my vampire parents bought with drug money in the 30's like a regular person!
It's nice that the tide is turning. There's one of us in the Oval office. When she sneaks in through a window. No one's guarding that shit now, no one's getting paid. We're all just writing love notes to each other in NY Times op-eds about how it's okay to feel run-down because of how often you have to scream "RACIST" at your parents. Vampires have been using that "It was a different time" line for far too long and as much as I like Tilda Swinton we can't let them keep getting away with it. I'm comforted in the public shamings that are giving me permission to perform private shamings. I wish I knew my grandparents so I could throw my old ill-advised R.Kelly-Louis CK mix CDs at them, too.
It's the first week of my 3rd to last semester of college. This is the closest I have ever been to graduating. And I might get away with something that sounds sort of useful and legitimate. And my financial aid is being delayed. And I am worried I might have to stop. This is the closest I have ever been. I'm so scared. But at least I'm not manic.
But I thought of a new show that's really just two shows that I used to like that didn't make it past 3 seasons mashed together.
I'm glad I don't experience real mania. I'm just a regular millennial, saddled with medical debt and education debt and luxury debt. Not one of those daddy's money Millennials the Olds used to write articles about and put on TV. Flitting about in vans across the country because they have oil money to fall back on and connections at WellsFargo. I have to live in a house my vampire parents bought with drug money in the 30's like a regular person!
It's nice that the tide is turning. There's one of us in the Oval office. When she sneaks in through a window. No one's guarding that shit now, no one's getting paid. We're all just writing love notes to each other in NY Times op-eds about how it's okay to feel run-down because of how often you have to scream "RACIST" at your parents. Vampires have been using that "It was a different time" line for far too long and as much as I like Tilda Swinton we can't let them keep getting away with it. I'm comforted in the public shamings that are giving me permission to perform private shamings. I wish I knew my grandparents so I could throw my old ill-advised R.Kelly-Louis CK mix CDs at them, too.
It's the first week of my 3rd to last semester of college. This is the closest I have ever been to graduating. And I might get away with something that sounds sort of useful and legitimate. And my financial aid is being delayed. And I am worried I might have to stop. This is the closest I have ever been. I'm so scared. But at least I'm not manic.
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