Status Updates From Permafrost

It dawned on me that the apartment might be a front, that in a back room somewhere, a hoard of pretty girls was possibly gagged and bound, hands and feet tied together with one long, improbably knotted rope. My mouth went dry. What would become of me? I wasn't even pretty!

Brigitte represented what I imagined my future would have looked like if my aunt hadn't put me out on the street: a lifetime pensioner with an autistic dog as her only companion.

what do u do when ur suicidal but have ocd about how u die

I am assaulted by the delirious notion that I wasted my time at university… This realization gives way to a series of symptoms: a stabbing pang in the chest… another kind of pain that is slippery rather than stabbing and radiates to every extremity of my body like a weighty, ravenous sorrow... This must be like the pain that follows an abortion, the residual sadness of a life unlived, clinging clawlike to life.

"Now what?" I wailed. "I've lost five years of my life! It's too late to switch to a degree in fine arts." At twenty-three, it's too late for everything. Not until our forties do we realize there's still time. Maybe not for everything, but at least for everything that matters.

Still, I couldn't seem to fall in love. I basically made friends, most of whom ended up as my lovers. Now and then, a lover would fall in love with me and I'd have the impression that life was staring me dead in the eye in its most unflattering wig.

ok finally reading the actual one
first page made me nervy bc it was like poetry and incomprehensible but the whole thing is just weird & suicidal so getting used to it

Uncomfortable.

“I am forty two kilos of loneliness and lamentation, a real treasure” oh I like her a lot

18/08/2026

17/08/2026