This just gets weirder and weird huh?!

I had a couple girls in the background as a formality but honestly I just decided to close the windows. I am not broadcasting myself either currently, but I do have music going now. I have stuff on my mind and here I am writing it out... to music.

Between a middle school girl reaching out to me and my complete failure to successfully do much cleaning today, I guess the obstacles the universe throws at me continue to prove to be formidable. I keep wanting the conditions to be at least semi favorable, but if the whole point is they won't be agreeable then maybe I'm jumping the gun here.

Everything is coming to a head. I have only two weeks left before Mom returns and effectively ruins my life. I brought this on myself, in fact I decided to have this happen-- I don't know what kind of sadistic idea I had in mind to force this upon myself but as I say, here I am writing it out... to music.

I can even see it in my eyes. My right eye is zonked. My body is giving out on me, and I only have so much time before it becomes irreparable. Yes, that may be a lot of time in general, but that's relative to what's happening in my life as I am writing it out... to music.

What music, you ask? Mostly new age today, but not like hippie dippy soft jams, I mean underground modern funk. Vaporwave. It's all I've got off the top of my head. The fact is I am being thrown in ways even I don't forsee, which ironically is to be expected. This isn't an intellectual issue though, it's an emotional one. I'm literally feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders and it's enough of a pain in the neck that I now have acne on the back of my head from scratching too much.

If I were to describe my feelings right now, it would be a mix of utter despair, sheer paranoia, and pure dread. But Lord have mercy were I to be out of control, then it's off to the psych ward, just because I'm willing to open up about my feelings. I don't feel normal, but isn't that normal? At least sometimes perhaps, weirdly enough.

The universe absolutely hates the idea of me being financially stable for simply being me it seems. Or even doing what I do, even if it's legitimate work. Even a steady job remains elusive. Perhaps I am too far beyond the normal scale of minimum wage work, yet too moral and mundane for the live fast and let loose world of the rich. I apparently am an outcast of outcasts, even as I am writing it out... to music.

-Russly