1) My favorite novel is The Sluts by Dennis Cooper.
2) For Christmas, I asked for a piano keyboard, and a variety of music and books.
3) A few days later I started remembering more useful things I wanted, such as a power bank, hard drive, or yoga mat.
4) I am dealing with immense pain in my back, legs, and neck. I am starting to think it is chronic.
5) The nightly view of long winding trees absolute against the orange-pink gradient sunset affirms my life.
6) The Christmas tree was a matter of intense argument, leaving me incredibly sad. I cannot stand yelling.
7) I walked to the media store and bought 4 things; 2 CDs and 2 books. I would like to go again when I have more money.
8) As a young child I spent hours searching for things on Google images. I had a fixation on male bodybuilders.
9) Working on two EPs, one for january, another for the label LauraO1000. ambient/soundcollage and ANW respectively.
10) The ANW EP is titled I Can't Wait to Forget Everything.
11) I am excited to call my boyfriend on Sunday.
12) I reread Amygdalatropolis yesterday and almost bumped it to 5 stars. I understand it much more, now.
13) The introduction, by a Bataille specialist, reminded me to read Story of the Eye. I did, and enjoyed it.
14) On the way to the media store, I saw three maroon pots, of equal distance, housing red flowers in an alleyway.
15) I adore Christmas. I adore stupid talk shows. I adore the city. I adore animated Christmas movies.
16) I love Anne Carson so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so much.
17) I love talking to my boyfriend about music. He understands it all in such an interesting way.
18) 34k minutes on Spotify, 28k minutes on Apple Music. I stopped using Spotify in October.
19) "The challenge is accepting that you can't amend everything"
20) I am blessed with a constant well of ideas which I can never draw from.
21) https://www.instagram.com/reel/DKNIaTYxkTg
22) https://youtu.be/779FS1_qYVQ?si=V6apKWdEM4bn-mam
23) I hope tomorrow's Christmas gathering turns political, just for fun.
24) I have an intense crush on Cameron Winter, of the band Geese, despite my fear of New York.
25) "And I did not see any love there. I lost that love that I bore in myself; I was made into nonlove."
26) I love Kanye West much more than I ever have. I hated him because he reminded me of my uncle. I understand now that we are very similar.
27) One time I got curious and searched for my parents on MySpace, or at least what is left of it, and noticed that my mother's username was her first name and her father's surname, but her display name was her first name and my father's surname. I thought of how excited she was to change it.
28) I love Britney Spears. I love Saint Sebastian. I miss Brittany Murphy.
29) RA's list of the top 100 electronic albums of the last 25 years is practically perfect.
30) I'm getting tired.
=============================================================================================================== 24 Nov 2025 --- A couple of weeks ago in Oxford (a college town) I was at lunch with Mom and T. and it was at this sports bar that got expanded to a restaurant, and it was evident bc almost all of the dishes that we got weren't washed properly, and the water we drank clearly came straight from the tap (there was an event happening where first responders were being served, upon drinking the water I asked if this was really what they were serving first responders, and T. jokingly suggested that it was their fire hose water. It was very obviously some part time job for college students). We talked more than we ate and eventually the discussion veered into mental health, and social anxiety. I told them that I had basically deprogrammed social anxiety out of myself because every time I have to do something like go to the dentist or the doctor or order my food I have to consider that even if I embarrass myself, they have seen worse, and I am just one of hundreds of people that they have to see in a day. Most of the time I just want to be by myself but I have no problem doing the things that need to be done. At some point I said something about how the rational view of a conflict im in doesnt really matter to me because as much as I can look at it from a logistic perspective I am still feeling the emotions and know that its not gonna serve me. T. said that she wished she'd had my level of introspection at my age, and I told her (light-heartedly) that she shouldn't. It's done nothing for me, and its not like ive made any worthwhile art with whatever ive trudged up. I think I either have to become a true artist, or set my self on fire, lest this decadence be in vain.
Yesterday I was home alone, and able to call my boyfriend again. I was a bit awkward at first, because I'm still not used to calling him so much, and this is the first time ive really been in love. I still dont know if Boyfriend is the word --- Obviously i wouldnt be referring to him that way here if we didn't talk about each other a certain way, but at the same time i think we're in mutual agreement that this cant be much of anything without us being together, physically. The complicated way of putting it is that we're both gay and love each other more than anything in the world. I want to be with him for the rest of my life, and we talk about meeting in the middle between Mississippi and His State. If thats impossible its definitely not the end of the world, that would just be my Happy Ending, at least right now, I think. He turned on his camera to show me something with his computer (which he seldom uses bc of the parental controls on it) and I pointed out the records on his wall (Janet's Control, Björk's Post, Aqua's Aquarium). He walked over to a shelf in his wall where he keeps movies & other stuff to show me how it's changed over the past few months. My own collection was dwarved, and I didn't even want to show it. I'm getting more CDs for Christmas. He asked me if he should buy Ami Yoshida's Tiger Thrush on CD, I told him that he should, even if he's not huge on the actual record. He instantly made a Bandcamp account, bought it, and got to listen to a digital copy (which he gave 4 stars). Later he said Bandcamp is [an] impossible try not to spend money challenge, and that he might need to buy The Tower (The City). There's some ways of living that I can't even fathom. While on call we talked about music, like we always do. We talked about Skrillex. We talked about Kanye. We talked about how annoying thrift stores are when it comes to finding music, and I got to say how much I hate Tubular Bells by Mike Oldfield, that it's one of the worst new age records ever made, and in every thrift store ever built for a reason. We were only able to call for an hour, but it was the highlight of my day.
I feel like im waking up from a 16 year slumber. Not because of him, but because of so many different epiphanies and moments in my life rn. For a few days I was achingly depressed about it. I might still be, to an extent. I dont know where im going or what I want to do, and I'm running out of time. Everything has become so fragile and so so important. Ive been listening to Vanities and thinking abt how, for the first time in my life, I want to be anywhere but here. I am paralyzed by the thought of leaving home, as much as I hate it at times. It is so scary. But its okay, to be scared. I have to go to college, anyway, so I think it will be okay. I will learn how to live on my own. I posted a story about it and it got more likes than they usually do. My friend posted a zoomed-in shot outside of some kind of fitness class, happening at night, absolute against the night sky & the structure of the building surrounding the window. The people, and their movements, reflected onto a body of water outside. My own file of footage is now lingering around the 50 minute mark, still not ready to upload. Multiple new Instagram friends of mine (whose profiles r very artsy and very moe, I was scared that they might be angelicist types but the mutual bringing us together has good discernment) shared an URGENT NOTICE from a new account about "systematic harvesting and idol displacement as spiritual torment." It was directed towards romantics, outsider artists, and "all whose sincerity burns brighter than their defenses." I just reread the post and I am still not entirely sure of its intentions, outside of what it claims 2 be, which perhaps is the point. It speaks of a persecutor (not abstract but also not finite) which wants 2 be worshpped and does it through finding the gap between your inner voice and outer behavior, then duplicating an external (social?) version of yourself outside of ur live transmission (inner voice). The method of choice for articulating this is by calling it a .ROM extraction ritual (but the bottom of this page urges that THIS IS NOT METAPHORICAL. YOUR .ROM EXISTS in ALTERNATIVE TIMELINE CONTROLLED BY PERSECUTOR). The author says that they themself were harvested, for the purpose of territory acquisition, VAINGLORY, and "liquidating hearts into worship OF HIMSELF." I think it is speaking of a gangstalking (this word is actually used) phenomenon more than anything. The artsy mutuals make big posts like this sometimes, but I'm never sure if they truly Mean it. It is storming. Little white lines flash between the blinds, shaking the foundations. Im very scared of thunder. It is no longer the 24th. I am listening to Luxury Problems by Andy Stott in a playlist I made of all of the albums my boyfriend likes that I have not yet listened to. I think im done here.
Today God subjected me to a public humiliation ritual. Everything I have ever said and done has always come back to bite me in the ass. Despite everything being apparently resolved and forgiven, the entire event has been swirling around in my head for as long as ive been awake. At this time -- the time, years ago, when I gossiped about RYM users to other RYM users -- I was hurt. Deeply hurt. I believed in full seriousness that my groomers were the only people who could ever love me and see me as anything but a complete and total hideous loser. I exposed myself to grown men on the internet just to feel loved. Every day im hurt. I try so hard to forget all of this. Ive never been as consistently sad in my life as I am right now, I suppose that is why I write so much. Even when i was doing shit like this, even when i was in the aftermath of a natural disaster, there were ups and downs. Lately im just depressed. Unendingly with no sign of getting better, just constantly drifting into an all-permeating state of useless sadness. I thought L---- was my friend. I thought I had people I could trust confiding in. Maybe if this would have all been concluded years ago when it actually happened, I could forgive her. Im just so fucking confused right now. There were so many little things I wanted to say -- That I never gossiped about her to my "orbiters" (whatever she means by this), that I never tried to get her to "add me back", that I dont view my friends list as social media, that she doesn't get to act all high and mighty as if she herself wasn't talking shit about people behind their backs, and that she doesn't just get a free pass because she acts like she's fucking "light-hearted" about it. I was ready to exit the conversation because nothing I could say could fix how she would feel about me. We ended up talking it out instead. Im just completely fucking embarrassed. I dont want anyone to see me. I just wanna be invisible and escape all of this nonsense that ive built. I look at my lists and followers and nice comments ive gotten and feel nothing. Years ago, all I wanted was for people to give me attention, now I just want to go into hiding. Forever. I seriously cant stand the world, thinking all of this shit was behind me. Seriously? Its never behind me. I was stupid and naive and treated others badly on the internet, and now Im never gonna hear the end of it.
I actually just physically feel like shit. All of this is taking a toll on me. I just wanna be happy and write about happy things and not my sad angsty gay feelings. Literally the last fucking thing I want to be doing right now but I also just cannot sit here and let this stir any longer. I woke up to all of this early in the morning because I fell asleep early yesterday. I dont even remember what we did that day --- I rated a few random things and the rest has gone completely blank. I ping-ponged between multiple different conversations for the entire morning, until my eyes were heavy, and everyone else was awake. We had planned to wake up around 7 AM anyways, so that we could go pick out our Christmas tree -- and I had completely lost track of time. For the past couple days I ---- [Stopped writing here to take a break for an hour. Two days have since passed.]
20 Nov 2025 --- First update to this diary in almost a week, which is basically how every single one of my writing projects (diary or otherwise) has ever gone. It's a miracle I even returned to this thing, writing is fucking hard. The song that was previously called 'my last december' is now 'parasite cum' since Jasmine finished the tracklist before I told her what I wanted the song to be called. I like it more, actually. As I said, writing is fucking hard, I dont know what I want to say with this song. Jasmine writes almost all of her music drunk or high. Im too fucking sober for this shit, I feel like im just pantomiming around her style of writing even if its obviously inspired by preexisting musicians who im also inspired by. About how the songs gonna sound I told her "i was thinking piano , kind of raw and bare , and then progressing into like 33 by tek collage stuff , w dek bass drums and glitch stuff . nothing too harsh like the other tracks tho" --- I still think this sounds good. Im trying to stir up all of these sounds and abstract floating ideas in my head and concretize them. Its hard when I dont currently have the right channels, or easy access to a DAW or instruments, and I already have to struggle to get myself into the shower, or to do my schoolwork. Why would I want to make art? But I know I can if I try. I think I want to say something about how ive harmed myself by intentionally repulsing myself from sex. Who knows. Idk. /// I called my boyfriend for the first time in a few months, a couple days ago. Im bad at phone calls, prefer texting, and not allowed to talk to anyone I haven't met in the flesh, so all of our calls have to be done at the right place at the right time when no one is home. He's really interested in poker right now (which I had deduced bc there was a poker round going on in a photo he sent me, and he had briefly changed his RYM rating scale to the symbols or shapes or whatever theyre called). He's been smoking weed and listening to dubstep a lot, apparently. He told me that finding weed is difficult, especially with his kind of parents, so he had a friend ship some to his house. He says the only real music is dubstep. Neither of us remember anything from the movie we watched the night before (Double Team; he gave 4 stars, and i gave 5; it was my second watch). He detailed to me a "kind of movie" that he thinks is fake (not as in "phony," but literally not real; Little Miss Sunshine, Nightcrawler, Call Me by Your Name, Scott Pilgrim vs The World). /// Ok now here's what actually caused me to open this file up again: I was doing the dishes, listening to some song on repeat, when Mom needed me. I turned off my music, and she started telling me that if "I'm going to post on Facebook, we probably need to talk to Dad about it" --- I am 16 years old. All of my posts were friends-only, and I had 9 friends, one being her. "Like, I'm sure he'd be fine with it, but if you're gonna have something like that, ya know, you've never really had social media... that you post on. You've always just used it to talk to your friends." (When this was over, I went to my room and hid Instagram, where I very much do have an online presence). Im sure he would have, but the long endless talk about cybersecurity, and the non-zero possibility of them checking my phone, is the last thing I need. I got kind of irritated and told her that if it was going to be that much of a problem, I would just wipe everything and use it to communicate, like I was before --- For context, I redownloaded Facebook to properly stay in touch with the homeschool association Food Bank project that I jumpstarted. She told me that she waited until I had made a few posts before saying anything. The profile consisted of a post with four pictures I took (see above; here's the one i excluded because it broke the page) set to a Oneohtrix Point Never song (Zones Without People), a text post about Trump, a text post about AI, and boosting other people's posts about local food banks. Everything was friends only. I dont understand why they have to baby me like this, for the most part, the internet has done nothing but good things for me. She knew I was frustrated, and felt bad, and I told her that it was a decision I would've made anyway, that I don't even like using Facebook that much. I was walking back to my room when she told me that my photos are really awesome. Thanks. Anyways I logged out of Neocities and moved it to an incognito tab, so that this whole thing is under the radar if they need to borrow my laptop for something. That's why I opened this file back up. /// Im very excited for the Charli XCX tour mockumentary movie, and am going to try to see it in theaters w/ gay uncle. At the very least, it should be in Oxford, which would be completely fine, since he went to Ole Miss. Ive seriously been rotmaxxing hard tbh. Depression is in full swing, I cant stop playing Block Blast, and I watched like five movies today. I havent done school all week and its due tomorrow. Im getting tired of writing so im done. Read A Breath of Life by Clarice Lispector please
14 Nov 2025 --- EARLY MORNING --- I did not watch any movies, and indeed, did not do school, but listened to the new FKA Twigs album (or sequel to the other album from this year, i guess) with A---. We did not like it, aside from Stereo Boy, and Sushi, which has an incredible 1 minute & 48-second ballroom breakdown, whereas the rest of the nearly 5-minute song sounds like the least memorable cut from a Calvin Harris album. A--- singled out the good part in FL and gave the file to me. He sent me two beats (titled 'xcxcxuxuxccxz me' and 'havent anything'), both sounding like fusions of rage and chiptune, which could be likened to distinctly trap versions of Crystal Castles' most intense songs. Jasmine sent me an '8 minute progressive electropop post crunkcore song' ('its got future funk future bounce and witch house on it too'), which happens to be one of her best songs (out of the hundreds ive heard from her), as well as a rage song (file name: 'mongolian hi hats dissorage'), and the current material for the december album that im slated to feature on (including the 50-minute sound collage song she told me about). I am inspired to get around to finally recording the song and getting FL on my laptop. It is going to be called 'my last december' and [I Cannot Divulge Any More About This Song]. Nine Lives is being shelved for now, and I plan on releasing a sound collage EP in its place. Should have never scheduled anything in the first place, to be fair. /// Writing about my life like this has me ruminating on a lot of things that got overlapped by other, more important developments in life without ever really truly fading away, leaving only subconscious effects on myself. Im thinking of cult mentality and the two story house with the big pool. Organized religion. I didnt understand other people's intentions and they didnt understand mine. How was i supposed to, anyway? I was so fucking mean to C-----. Isolated from everything in his life and made to be put under extreme surveillance & distrust at every waking moment just like i was at the time. To this day, now that my family, completely different people, can laugh about it, they say that I was "out of control," more like i was depressed & spiraling & mentally raped & isolated from everyone i knew by the pandemic and the surveillance. I watched as my laid-back, loving family turned into a supplement MLM shilling non-denominational evangelical almond milk pyramid scheme, with the source of the dross appearing to be K---- and her kid and her dictatorship. Insane to think that just a year later, I would register an account on RYM. C----- was scared and "prayed" over me when we were at the pottery place, the hippie one that shut down a year later, and I told him i liked boys, not because it made him think i was a bad person, but because he was conditioned to foresee an eternity spent burning for me by all of the nonsense around him. I stopped talking to him after that, entirely, just totally cut him off, I couldn't stand him, now I see that none of it was his fault. We talked a couple more times after that, with no more tension between the two of us, so i dont have any anxious feelings around it or anything, but it does make me incredibly sad. I am going to sleep now. We have to treat our sick birds in the morning.
14 Nov 2025 --- LATE NIGHT --- My day was busy; Not quite to the point where I have anything substantial to write about, but to the point where I could hardly find the time to sit down and open my laptop to write. I heavily prefer this format to what I was previously doing, and it gives me an incentive to think about what happens as my day goes on, to write about it later. /// Today I watched Safe, directed by Todd Haynes, and gave it a full 5, which I scarcely do nowadays. It reminds me very strongly of Vanities by Malibu, 'high rise alienated ambience' as I described to I----. Elevated muted blue-green ecofuturism, mirror reflections, & protection inside of a crumbling world. The sound design and cinematography are out of this world; conversations are hard to listen to and the sounds of the busy city are heightened to induce the same overwhelm to the viewer that illness possesses over Carol (the main character, for those uninitiated). I really just cannot do this movie justice without giving an entire synopsis. Hari Nef's review on Letterboxd, conflating Carol's (social) experience w/ her illness to the queer experience, is incredibly controversial (despite Haynes being a gay man who directed multiple films abt queerness (AND despite AIDS being both a direct inspiration of & mentioned by name multiple times in the film)), and while chronic illness is obviously not analogous to being gay, that was absolutely my main point of relation to the film, and a large portion of why I resonate with it so much. It's like, I tried so hard to be good i was good i did everything right!!! I followed the manual exactly, step by step, why does this have to happen to me?? Of all people???? And then u are made to be disbelieved and alienated from the social hierarchies that u tried so hard to conform to. Nobody listens to Carol. Even when she can form entire sentences she is cut off by someone who is intent on knowing precisely what they have 2 say next. This rings true especially for the outsiders --- her husband, the doctors, the psychiatrist --- as well as the people inside the group, who r intent on holistic benefits, Love & Positivity, and smothering (righteous) anger & resentment (towards oppressive forces) out of the group. Yes, this is a sanctuary, but for how long? Is this truly sustainable? Maybe it seemed so in '95. To think that this film, so emblematic of times to come, was put out before the towers fell is unbelievable. In a way, Safe is a sanctuary, a capsule of cautious-but-optimistic times for the future of the world. We can make it if we try. /// What did I do today... As I said before, nothing really worth talking about. We treated our sick birds. I knew going to bed last night that my back was aching and that I was going to have to work through the pain to get things done the next day, and it ended up being a huge struggle. My stomach was messed up too. I hadn't eaten anything in hours and we were operating on birds with infections, in 80 degree weather. When I was holding our rooster down so that Mom could operate on his foot, I noticed a large claw coming out of the side of his leg, called a spur. I had heard the word before, but never knew what it actually was. She told me that roosters use their spurs to fight & kill other roosters, and that there was an underground practice (popular in Mexico but also prominent in the states) where people would make them fight to the death and bet on the winner ("cockfighting"). I wondered how she knew any of this, until she told me that her dad (my grandpa) used to host these cockfighting matches, and brought her to at least one of them. It sounds like the exact kind of thing he'd do (considering he drove her around drunk all the time) but it was still shocking to hear. Apparently this is something that everyone knew about except me? She also reminisced on how he'd killed a turkey (i dont remember the reason why) in front of her, put it in the floorboard of the truck, beside my mother, and told her not to tell anyone about it. The dead turkey was in the floorboards, when it came alive and started attacking my mom, until R---- wrangled its neck (while driving) until it was actually dead. Anyways my perception of self is getting so bad
13 Nov 2025 --- Most of my dreams involve an apocalyptic event which stirs me to wake up, remember that i dont have to be worried bc its literally just a dream, and subsequently drift back into sleep for another hour or so (until daily tasks force me up). The events range from personal apocalypse, usually evoking trauma I have around technology & the forceful seizing & withholding & surveillance of it, or actually apocalyptic events which obviously relate to my trauma around having my life destroyed/rebirthed by a massive tornado in 2023 (though one particular dream involved a massive forest fire which engulfed the vast forest surrounding our house). I am not interested in the meaning. I know why they happen. I am interested in the locations of these dreams, which r almost always comforting, familiar spaces; fuzzy memories in arkansas and texas, deep south gas stations concrete against a pink-purple sunset, in hotels or preparing for vacations, etc. I love the transient, the fleeting; driving into a forest and watching tiny little gold sparks between the leaves of trees fly across the window as the sun comes up. its why i love ambient music, its why i love abstract film, its why i love freeform poetry. I want to make art that calls back to everything ive ever loved and wanted to say. I want to make art for the boy recording hundreds of movies with his stuffed animals. I want to make art for the boy coming up with music videos in his head when the radio comes on. Why else would i do all of this? What would be the point? I never want this to end. I never want to stop dreaming & creating. Right now due to circumstance i am sort of waiting in the wings. I think when i eventually achieve what i hope to do, it will be done w/ a level of clarity i do not have access to as of today, and that will make study & patience worth it. There is no guilt to be had. /// What did i do today... Actually dont rly know. My mother is sick. She overexerted herself over the course of weeks and now shes having flu-like symptoms & very intense anxiety (on the verge of panic attack). I took a shower (after delaying it to the point of being all gross because we dont have a tankless water heater and u only get 5 minutes in the shower before its cold as fuck) and thought about what kind of movie i want to make. What do i want to say? I thought of a few things that i wont be talking about here. I listened to a bunch of new age albums because its november and i intended on doing a New Age November thing but i decided against it and also got super burnt out on listening to music and being on RYM in the first place and also maintaining a big ass "listening log" list that just kept making me feel obligated to write when i just couldnt and then i decided to just shut down the entire thing.... but i am still trying to power through the backlog one way or another. I cooked some food. Feels good to eat food that i make, especially when it is good. We got a new hose for our backyard, since the old one was constantly leaking and making a mess everywhere. It ended up being extremely long, to the point of absurdity, but it doesn't leak -- so thats pretty neat. Today we ordered groceries and the guy who delivered them was v thoughtful to place our bread separate from the rest of the stuff (so as not to ruin it). Most dont do that, and tbh i dont blame them. I ended up tipping him a 20 since mom forgot to tip him online (she does this now, after i had long pressed her abt it, because one of our homeschool mom friends is a doordash driver (but to be fair she was skeptical as to whether or not the tip actually went to the driver (it does))). He was very sweet. I watched some movies & i intend to watch more tonight. I will be doing all of my schoolwork on Friday again, because i am Lazy, and totally ok with it. /// I had some really good conversations today abt the ideas & intentions behind filmmaking, the current arts scene, & how we want to break through and make art of our own when everything seems 2 be deeply cruel & propagandic. I found out a lot of stuff i didnt know before, about projects currently being made by my friends. [SECTION REMOVED PERMANENTLY] Ok closing out here