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i was thinking about how seeing yourself as a loser can give you a sense of certainty and control over your life, i never had another philosophy but i put a little hope in a bingo and lost all the prizes to the elderly, was i being masochistic on purpose?

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Nobody tells you about the guilt that compounds as years pass. An immobile type of grief. A sculpture that speaks, but only to you. What became easier with time, exactly?

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June is a “Man’s Month” meaning it’s a month where men / boyz can just chill-out. i know that’s misogynous but it’s OK

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surprise saturn & string of pearls tee is up now - first run will be available until june 2nd. get em here

#god yes #buy one of max's shirts

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hard times, hard techno

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the depersonalization feels subjectively like falling off the face of the planet, for a few weeks at a time. my relationships with other people are like lines on a map. the Girl is like a magnet. words are like flakes of skin or grains of sand. narratives which progress a half step per unit of time dissolve their hourglasses, and language ripples. the body stops generating consistent reports. how does one get back into it? one leg at a time. one digit at a time. add more words until the sentence continues under its own inertia. draw clocks until the seconds begin to tick again. turn the music up until your body reverberates with dance. reassert ownership of the vessel. the puppeteer and the doll are one and the same

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if a man suddenly gets into pokemon in his late 20s. well i dont know what means. nothing ever makes sense anymore. *tearing up, sudden southern accent* Everything feels different

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hi, i'm trans internet weirdo frog k, the writer, and i need help pretty fucking bad. during a long period of inertia on social media which didn't really involve much more than sitting in a chair and staring off into space most days, i had a horrible wakeup call when, after a series of falls and other minor injuries from my legs being too numb to maintain my gait, investigation turned up a cluster of severe b-vitamin deficiencies. i have been broke for a very long time, and stringing stuff along like i have been has been killing me. it's not like you get most of your calories from ramen, oil, and tvp without knowing it's gonna catch up to you, but i didn't really anticipate the way that catching up looked would be a gradual and expanding numbness and low-level and escalating dementia.

at this point i'm just trying to get my shit together physically to the point that vocational rehab is even reasonable. i've made decent progress with vitamin supplements and shit, but i don't have my head above water enough at present to justify getting three square meals a day, and that's going to cause problems whatever pills i take about it.

i'm currently hoping to raise $600, but literally anything would help, and even if you can't give anything, please reblog and all that. i'm sincerely hoping once i'm able to get all this shit sorted, i'll be able to go back to being a person. cashapp - $asimplefrog ko-fi (for paypal users) - frogk thank you all so so much!!!

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What Resembles the Grave but Isn’t

by Anne Boyer

Always falling into a hole, then saying “ok, this is not your grave, get out of this hole,” getting out of the hole which is not the grave, falling into a hole again, saying “ok, this is also not your grave, get out of this hole,” getting out of that hole, falling into another one; sometimes falling into a hole within a hole, or many holes within holes, getting out of them one after the other, then falling again, saying “this is not your grave, get out of the hole”; sometimes being pushed, saying “you can not push me into this hole, it is not my grave,” and getting out defiantly, then falling into a hole again without any pushing; sometimes falling into a set of holes whose structures are predictable, ideological, and long dug, often falling into this set of structural and impersonal holes; sometimes falling into holes with other people, with other people, saying “this is not our mass grave, get out of this hole,” all together getting out of the hole together, hands and legs and arms and human ladders of each other to get out of the hole that is not the mass grave but that will only be gotten out of together; sometimes the willful-falling into a hole which is not the grave because it is easier than not falling into a hole really, but then once in it, realizing it is not the grave, getting out of the hole eventually; sometimes falling into a hole and languishing there for days, weeks, months, years, because while not the grave very difficult, still, to climb out of and you know after this hole there’s just another and another; sometimes surveying the landscape of holes and wishing for a high quality final hole; sometimes thinking of who has fallen into holes which are not graves but might be better if they were; sometimes too ardently contemplating the final hole while trying to avoid the provisional ones; sometimes dutifully falling and getting out, with perfect fortitude, saying “look at the skill and spirit with which I rise from that which resembles the grave but isn’t!”

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By Paul Peng. 5.5 in. by 8.5 in. rag paper, graphite. April 2019.

Instagram: pppaulpeng Twitter: 1732051

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Anybody have any idea what we're supposed to be doing, thinking, feeling, and talking about

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Toxe & Embaci - Honey Island/Sorry (Elysia Crampton edit)

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illustration from KTULU by Moebius