first of all, the best person to ask if he'd like to invest in my vision for a free and open digital society is Warren Buffet. while it's ultra imperative to make not only a compelling case for retrofuturism but to show tangible prototype for something beyond yet another digital asset, he's most likely to be interested in the ethos of getting back to the basics. I would not ever want to be funded by anyone silicon valley related because there are already enough logistical issues with their financial entanglements and honestly none of them trust me for obvious reasons. however, some progress has been made in the department of "well, who's gonna hold all that money, baby?" so it's not all bad, and in fact, probably the opposite of bad, in the sense that I will NOT be doing business with JP Morgan.

not many people can handle total scrutiny because it's very unflattering to be perceived under the harsh light of intentional debasement, and yet even the observed can become a mirror of the soul of the observer, even if only to frighten him into realizing that perhaps we are not all that different and perhaps we are not actually strangers.

chat I was like a different person when I was in denial

chat just heard the most hilarious phrase I've heard in a long time: "Greta and the Autistic Children's Crusade"

sometimes you do just have to sing it out and then it all makes so much more sense right

"I'll just tell everybody you're insane" can go both ways but there is no need to be rude

bro is over there lecturing me on why I made the mistake of even thinking a single thought well jeez I am so sorry that I had ideas about how to fix things at least the soft landing is soft for you, too

everything's bats now

with or without that man, I'm gonna go to Nashville and record some music with all them country boys waiting to get me on a track and put the cowboy boots on me. I wish all my haters, lovers, stalkers, rage baiters, and opps the best. can you just come clean and let's settle this bullshit so I can write part two of the album I never got to release because this country somehow turned into a nanny state with tech bros in the nanny position, weaponizing the government so they could get first dibs on all the top pussy (and dick!)? or am I never allowed to sing again cause I might have too much to sing about?

are we all so stupid that every single part of what makes a human a human can be boiled down to a trite comparison between people who hardly have anything to do with each other except one has an entire industry desperate to prove that it can maintain authority on beauty and popularity and The Culture? have I stolen something so pivotal from the starlets that they flood the few digital platforms worth writing on with drivel about what doesn't really matter all that much? as the saying goes, if you can have him, keep him, and that also goes for whatever accolades come with being a Babylonian prostitute.

all I have learned from this experience is that rich people lie to themselves in such a way that can never be ascribed to manners or refinement or sophistication or any such thing, because these lies are still every bit as grotesque and gruesome as a lie told by the plebs and the poors, except it feels better to them, and they'll be off at the lake house by the time you figure out the ways their lies have personally impacted you.

chat what's the upper class, well mannered, WASP-friendly way of saying, "please just give me my settlement money for the rape tape you ordered for assistance in your conversion therapy so I can go live in the shire by myself and forget you people even exist"?

chat the counsel said this is fake gay and retarded and he doesn't even love me, or himself, for that matter, and it's all really unforgivable, so sob it out and try not to kms in the meantime

hundreds of gay partners WHILE "MARRIED" and maybe a couple dumb bitches willing to become experimental petri dishes because that's all Hollywood is – an infectious disease incubator. the reason why they always end up in each other's beds is because they have a common knowledge of all of the sex clubs and swingers parties and group activities. they know who's who and who's willing. if anyone who has spent an extended amount of time in LA suddenly starts acting like they're ready for holy matrimony, you can be sure that it's a farce, because those Powers That Be do not reward godliness. imo, that dumb bitch and that other dumb bitch deserve each other.

one thing I hate more than anything is having to speed run my way through a timeline I neglected to indulge, as it was apparent to everybody else except me that there was a certain species of man intrigued by my prose and poetry, my voice, and me, for whatever reason, unbeknownst to me. fwiw, what you have now read is what you will never have, because on the other side of that fantasy was a very dark and twisted disdain for my prescience – a hatred that knows no bounds and certainly bears no compatibility with the nature of my own love for my art. you held me in limbo while you went out to prove something to yourself which proved nothing but your unworthiness of me. let the record show that I wish the secret third thing would go back to being a secret that I have no knowledge of. I really don't want to take the risk of contracting latent AIDS that just doesn't show up on a test because it's a brand new type.

to whom it may concern, I trust my instincts more than I trust professional liars who only care about one thing and one thing only, and that thing is revenge. for what? I don't fucking know because I wasn't fucking paying attention. I don't pay attention to gay men who bring with them an entire dystopian nightmare of near-fatal scrutiny and unjustified disdain and disgust for the truth. I don't believe in softening reality for the shareholders and the scholars alike. I'm not here to be forced into doing pornographic performances so a man can figure out whether he can get it up for a woman he'll fuck just to spite me for not paying attention to his jealousy. there was a reason for my blindness and that reason was so that I could imagine myself as free enough to sing like a fucking bird regardless of my little prison-like conditions. anyways, enjoy your new identity. please leave me the fuck out of all that drama and goodbye.

chat I'm tired of men spiking my cortisol just to find out how much I love them

chat it's all just a game