Decisions
Decisions
A galaxy of violence does not indicate that the galaxy is violent.
I am on the verge of a major conniption fit after discovering my recently acquired electronic instrument is not powering up anymore. Its defect is the opposite of misaligned ballasts in fluorescent lamps—that awful buzzing sound that reminds everyone of hospital bathrooms—which is a sound I became obsessed with when I learned to maneuver it through this synthesizer. I found a beautiful old fluorescent lamp in a free pile in my neighborhood shortly after my discovery, so you can imagine my delight and sense of positive fate.
Now, all of these things mock me.
You pedantic asshole, Anne. Why were you so excited by hacked electronics? How dare you pay attention to sound? Did you really think you’d learn anything or contribute anything meaningful to the discourse at your wizened and pathetic lecherous age? You don’t even know how to turn this on.
This is making me wildly upset. I can’t even jailbreak into it because I bought a version of it that is housed in a precious wooden frame. Like I was protecting its guts from me.
It’s likely I’m reading too much into it, but this is the second one of these idiotic instruments I’ve purchased in the last few months that has not come through, so I think it’s a sign. God I hate this fucking thing and the company that makes them. Damn them all to fucking hell. I tried something new and this is the universe telling me: no. IT’S JUST A THING, ANNE. CALM DOWN. Well I’m seething.
I also got impossibly long acrylic nails fused onto my fingers this week, which makes typing on a laptop fucking impossible, so I can’t even scream by typing. Not without stumbling over typos.
I know the world is on fire. That this is meaningless and indulgent. But you see, that’s, I think, why I’m so unreasonably and precipitously upset—these indulgent diversions were my only curative for morbid fear. I feel like my health care is being revoked by god.
The responses to this tweet have been pretty funny:
Let’s make a list of all the bad life choices I could make before the year 2021 is over now that I’m in a horrible mood:
Set everything on fire.
Set my hands on fire.
Give up.
Forget.
Nothing happens without a reason. As someone aptly pointed out on Twitter (I know I know), the system isn’t broken but rather designed to make us lose our wits. So things happening for a reason can mean that there is some design to our coordinated miseries.
A galaxy of violence does not indicate that the galaxy is violent.
Nothing happens without a reason.
I want to believe I want to believe I want to believe I want to believe I want to believe I want to believe. I want to believe I want to believe I want to believe.
I want you to believe in me with all my heart.
