ranierean
foids add me on discord: @ex2.2 🚬🚂🐇🦦✊
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I was out on one of my wired-headphones-and-listening-to-bladee-lindy-walks when I got hit by a torrential rain–it wasn’t really a surprise because the entire day was overcast, but something about it felt overwhelming, perhaps because I was in cotton head-to-toe and I just happen to be so old that the phrase “I can feel it in my bones” is actually somewhat literal for me. Winds blow me away as is and I’m worried about my women’s quarter ankle socks getting heavy with water?
It made me laugh because nothing about my life is notable aside from how I experience weather patterns, nothing really changes for me, but how I overthink things also presents a problem–if I was a teenager then it would just make me happy–a small innocent semblance of dynamism from the outside would make me happy, I would prance through the puddles like a villager thinking that they must be the happy tears from the goddesses above. It’s quite brutal, honestly. I just… don’t have any more summers and summer rains left in me, just objectively. Why do I even have to walk alone all the time? I'm a kitten that has wandered away from his litter a little too much ...I’m no smarter than a cat, actually.
I went through one of those drinking bursts where you feel bloated and don’t get any more buzz from chugging it but still want to drink on anyway, it was a sad incel thing of doing it in the dead of night, and uh… I guess I found the way that the rare light bounced through the bottle kinda appealing so I had a really strong urge to lick it and then shove it up my ass and... right as was internally debating on whether I should start with the neck of the thing or go straight with the bottom plate, one of my inner voice went like, “nah, son, just- just think about it for a second-,” as images of glass rupturing inside of me flashed through my mind–the whole thing kinda made me angry so I, in defiance, went with it anyway but got scared off by just how chilly the glass actually felt like down there so I ultimately stopped (from my recollection, anyway).
It made me laugh because nothing about my life is notable aside from how I experience weather patterns, nothing really changes for me, but how I overthink things also presents a problem–if I was a teenager then it would just make me happy–a small innocent semblance of dynamism from the outside would make me happy, I would prance through the puddles like a villager thinking that they must be the happy tears from the goddesses above. It’s quite brutal, honestly. I just… don’t have any more summers and summer rains left in me, just objectively. Why do I even have to walk alone all the time? I'm a kitten that has wandered away from his litter a little too much ...I’m no smarter than a cat, actually.
I went through one of those drinking bursts where you feel bloated and don’t get any more buzz from chugging it but still want to drink on anyway, it was a sad incel thing of doing it in the dead of night, and uh… I guess I found the way that the rare light bounced through the bottle kinda appealing so I had a really strong urge to lick it and then shove it up my ass and... right as was internally debating on whether I should start with the neck of the thing or go straight with the bottom plate, one of my inner voice went like, “nah, son, just- just think about it for a second-,” as images of glass rupturing inside of me flashed through my mind–the whole thing kinda made me angry so I, in defiance, went with it anyway but got scared off by just how chilly the glass actually felt like down there so I ultimately stopped (from my recollection, anyway).
