Day 6

I put your playlist into a playlist on YouTube so I can listen to it and cheer up whenever I want. 

I don’t currently want to feel that though. I did some writing today. 639 words about a deadend friendship that hasn’t grown in nine years. My entire life is stagnant. 

I hate twitter. Why are writers the dumbest people on Twitter? Where’s their wit? They just advertise their novels or blogs or other writers or other books. They’ve got 144 characters and all of them are links or hashtags or stupidity. Fuck writers. Fuck twitter. I hate everyone on it. I’m purging everyone that says anything stupid. I only got it to look at tits and then I realized people from my life were finding me and could see my 100 followers, all porn stars or people I wish were porn stars. 

Blaine Gibson commented on something I posted on his RoosterTeeth profile. RoosterTeeth being the internet company that entertains me 20% of my day. He’s one of the recent hires from about a year ago, very fit, buff, like Captain America. I suggested that he propose to the people in charge there making a fitness show led by him, for nerds, featuring bumbling idiots. “I think it'd be a fun community thing to get us off our asses since laughing them off is only figurative, unfortunately.” That’s what I said to end it. Pretty clever. 124 characters, short enough for a tweet, not fucking stupid like everything on Twitter. I hate it. 

Their YouTube channel has over 2.5 billion views and 7 million subscribers and their personal site has like 3 million members and Blaine has 2,500 friends and he saw my comment and told me to message him to bounce ideas off each other. 

I wanted to email you about it but I don’t know what’s going on and we didn’t talk today and I can’t help but listen to The Bleachers but I’m resisting The Smiths because at least The Bleachers have an upbeat sound. If I put on the smiths, I’m just wallowing, I am anyway, but I can lie to myself since it sounds so cheery when they say “So I put a bullet where I should’ve put a helmet.” 

I might go to the library tomorrow.  

Two nights in a row with nightmares, let’s go for a turkey! That’s a bowling term.

I love you. I need to talk soon. 

I didn’t post anything yesterday because it was too depressing for even this.