four provocative self portraits

i wont get into why or how i did this to myself, but it involves lite self abuse and messed up pleasure/pain wiring in the brain. basically, it was very painful but felt really good, like a certain ‘release’ where the acute pain felt either deserved or commensurate with ongoing non-material pain i constantly feel. the finger sort of looks like a huge ass dong too, which is cool.

this is me trying to fall asleep and idly thinking about ‘death, in general.’ i’m looking at my ceiling and going over how vacant my life is and how vapid i am. like how i am a sentient maggot with a complex nervous system punished ‘for no reason’ with a consciousness able to perceive its own imprisonment inside itself. these sessions usually end up in a fantasy about an asteroid crashing into the earth and me not having to go on twitter or to work or cook dinner the next day. i think damien rice was playing.

this is me on my second glass of wine at ‘sugarlump’ a cafe with bougie menu and wifi. i often come here to write and to feel connected to my community which consists of other lonely people who come to public settings to do private work, each of us almost resentful of the strangers for whom we desperately came. damn, i just thought ‘desperately came’ and imagined something very evocative.

this is me now. you may gather by my depleted countenance that i’m really depressed. it’s 2:31pm and i feel so alone — and not the kind of aloneness which would find relief in a kiss, bang, or conversation; but a kind of irrational fear of actually, simply, being alive, like a panic attack ossified under complete emotional paralysis, where not god or mom or babe or bro can help me. i feel like jack dawson sinking into the cold, rose’s face separating into loose ribbons of faint light above the surface of the water. i’m trying to read a book or maybe should get groceries but all i want to do is go to bed and listen to damien rice or sun kil moon or some acoustic-y music where the bro has a good voice and disturbing childhood. i need a red bull or a priest. i need to go