hello, today i have decided to talk to you about theory and how it destroys my soul, and how i really fucking hate it.
it has put me in this awful vitriolic mood & i can't help but think that the absence of those gorgeous soothing chemical braindeadeners might be a contributory factor. since however, i am right royally fucked off with benjamin at this moment, with adorno & nussbaum, and especially plato, i have decided that i am probably not going to get any work done tonight. and that throwing this big fat white book at his head might make me feel better. to explain; i hate your voice. i hate you deigning to talk to us when you need something, really i just hate you right now. poor you. i suppose you did nothing to warrant this, did you? i can't even be sure myself now. and yet i know that you will talk me out of it like you always do. i hate the way you look down at us, how we're not good enough for you and i hate how i could never ever tell you how i feel or how much you hurt us. or me, or whatever. i don't care right now. i want this fucking essay done, i want you gone and i wish my head was clear. i wish i could think, that there was someone to talk to, 'cause really it all seems to be fading right now, it's awful lonely here in kansas. i fucking hate terry eagleton and i hate how stupid i am. is that enough hate? i can't get it out of my blood or my system, i won't leave or get out. what can i do?
i wish i could stop time, just for a little bit. or run away, stop all of this. i want this all to stop. please? okay, it's not your problem. but what now?

Feeling:
Listening to:
Pretending:

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