I was checking a mutual’s timeline after a week away from following because her foot jokes weren’t feeling right And I saw the unfolding callout posts and your Paw Patrol kin made despicable sense you well-hid she-nonce I’m aware that adulting is hard when crumbling empires have you in their sights But in coping your past trauma’s taken sordid routes through newfound infanthood Your diapey license should be revoked You shouldn’t play shows for kids Horny on main is a bad habit to keep Trust me I would know As does - I hope - Car Seat Headrest Solidarity can’t be criticless if we’re letting people slide who pose a big threat to the ones most in danger Mindfulness of what turns us on deserves to be high priority when like me you’re freaky without foul intent Because intent didn’t matter when people damned me for weirdening Margaret Smith so just show some fucking tact and throw your kinks out ‘cos they’re clearly much worse than P.I.S.S. Horny on main ruins lives and careers It’s not worth the risk Find something else to do with your time Hush Hush E I was checking a mutual’s timeline so I could see his Brandon bear posts after a showrunner showed his support And I saw he agreed with my thoughts over these past four minutes so hey maybe there’s hope left in this shithole world

REFORM THE LAURELS REFORM REFORM THE LAURELS REFORM THE LAURELS REFORM REFORM THE LAURELS I don’t know how long I can last in this jail of hair and ossifying bone I don’t know why you see our pain with these two year waits like that’s acceptable I don’t know what our government’s doing to help if they’re even on our side REFORM THE LAURELS So there’s no more blood on your hands REFORM THE LAURELS This system can’t stay stale REFORM THE LAURELS So there’s no more tears on our referral forms I don’t know how long I can last in this jail of musk and angles everywhere I don’t know why you see our pain with these ten year waits like fairness must be earned I don’t know what our government thinks of us but I’m sure we don’t go unmocked REFORM THE LAURELS REFORM REFORM THE LAURELS REFORM THE LAURELS REFORM REFORM THE LAURELS

Alveolar Bob couldn’t take the strain I played it like a harp Shift the a I control the weather now I played it like a harp Shift the a I control the weather now I played it like a harp Shift the a I control the weather now Calumnes Via trista Sittin on the bed Bring back the dead Bring out your dad Gangrenous gelwurst never persuaded my anthirrups as much as some other guys would Bartanin Poljrhode Shart Grand Martinex Wobbles Had So great And So lovely Eric Idle said ‘shit’ at the Olympics Shift the a Shift the s Raggedy like mushrooms Too much gluten Too much fibre Too much gluten Too much fibre Too much gluten I played it like a harp Shift the a I control the weather now I played it like a harp Shift the a I control the weather now I played it like a harp Shift the a I control the weather now

Twice now I have been to a sub-par takeaway-only variant of McDonald's, once in Westward Ho! and once near Uplowman. In both cases the restaurants have been cramped, the decor out of date, and the food underdone and flaky. The Westward Ho! branch served raw meat cuts. Last night I extracted a truly enormous blackhead from my face while showering. I wanted to step on it to extract the pus, but it slipped into the drain before I was able. Justin Lee Collins was perched at the top of Cabots Circus, threatening to jump. After an hour of negotiation he did the deed, perishing in sickening slow-motion detail. Much blood. An old school classmate complained about how his dog Ss had died. I told him to stop moping and just get another one called Tt. A Gigeresque craft that stood, twisted and pretzel-like, on the surface of the moon. On its underside was a cheerful Aardman-style plasticine face. stets on my bed stets on my bed stets in my head stets on my bed Team Fortress Comics #7 was finally released, accompanied by a truly ridiculous Neil Cicierega video full of mashups, ‘Poops, and other ridiculous TF2 remix content. It was eighteen minutes long. “The Nick Drake Virtual Reality Experience”. The prison of choice for a cohort of juvenile offenders was a series of skylights on our roof. The boys peered through at night, leering and spitting at us, as we cowered in fear. A wide half completed crest that represented my life so far. Determined, I vowed to make the most of the rest of my crest. The curly haired tanned boy from Year 11 chased me home asking why the fuck I wouldn’t let go of the past - through choking lead and tripner leg around my vibrating sac of funny smiles through grunting skittering little demons heading our way from epsilon eridani iv through heaven’s balustrade-lined crackhouse in dreams I thought I’d never parse parsiphaan makes his final deal and prepares the ricin goblet for you. I started keeping my current dream diary in July 2015, shortly after I left sixth form and my formal structured world collapsed into the long endless path it’s on now. I don’t know how long I’ll end up keeping the diary for. If the technology and the motivation persists, then I could be doing this for a long time. It is scary to imagine me forty or fifty years hence, in a world where we didn’t all drown or freeze or choke on fallout but just continued down our long endless path, and I’m still writing down what I see every night, still with the same locations and themes and people.

Easy now Thruth Thruth quang millet I’ve sung this song before I’ve sung this song before I’ve sung this song before Coldingsource YA SUCRE This is what American celluloid torture feels like AND FUCK VISHNU’S SCHEDULES Comms: Closed Requests: Never Trades: Ask Gifts: Please Bagel: Toasted Cheese: Creamed Dick: Out Doctor: Idiot Day: Wasted Gun: Shot Man: Not me Toon: ????? When you made that noise it deafened out and strounded out teacher (OOH YOU DON’T SAY) Leghi leckey Lumn lomney A dock That is also A gun I’ve sung this song before I’ve sung this song before I’ve sung this song before I’ve sung this song before I’ve sung this song before ...Tulpa Tulpa Tulpa Tulpa Tulpa Tulpa.... It’s petty and privileged and Tom and Dick and Larry have worse problems I’m Devon’s henry Horny Darger pickle-pock pickle-pock time is running out. the fog is rolling in and dinner’s getting cold. pickle-pock pickle-pock things are getting weird. the crows have left the tower and God is getting old. And when the breft breaks Where will you stand And when my creaking chenoises start to sag Where will you be The flapid fladjulian tootsies Licked in all corns of his morn I’ve sung this song before I’ve sung this song before I’ve sung this song before I’ve sung this song before I’ve sung this song before I’ve sung this song before I just want to hear your voices I just want to hear your voices I just want to hear your voices Take me out of this strangely silent world I just want to hear your voices You were two silly boys Living with mum and dad One blue and one orange And you were never real (Seventy nine percent) I just want to hear your voices You were two silly boys Roaming the grasslands One blue and one yellow And you were never real (I’ve got a sweater on) I just want to hear your voices You were two silly boys Not getting on with work One blue and one brown And you were never real (Like dolphins can swim) I just want to hear your voices You were three loving mums Here to protect the earth Red purple and peach and rose And you were never real (Always find a way) I just want to hear your voices You’ve helped me out a lot Given me anchors Through turmoil and anguish Oh I wish you were real (I could mention many more) I just want to hear your voices You’ve meant so much to me Constants as I have grown In body heart mind and soul Oh I wish you were real (Sorry I draw you looking weird) Wish I was real Wish I was real Wish I was real Wish I was real

OHHHHH ITTTTTTT starts from Sharma and starts from /co/ and slowly trickles up to the brain until your core is rotten filth and you’re not where you want to be It breaks apart your mores and ways until you’re feeling in need of books from childhood that taught you how to say please sorry and thank you It makes its mark upon your past until you’re wincing at every part and going back is like a dance across a unsurveyed minefield It’s finally coming to terms with how nobody taught you to be human You had to learn the hard way and you’re still learning Nobody told you why it was wrong You had to join the dots while they were screaming in your face Please kids Why can’t we play nice Badness is inherited from where you go and who you meet but it’s never too late to kill it Badness won’t go overnight and sometimes it steals things for good but it’s worth the effort to kill it Wanna be told what to do to be better But I don’t know if I know how to be better And what if I mess up trying to be better Just tell me I’m doing good trying to be better Wanna be told what it means to be better But maybe life doesn’t want me to better And what if they’re sick of me trying to be better Just let me be better please Every cringeworthy memory loops around your mind I know I know How could I forget Every slip up comes back to haunt you in the night I know I know I want to repent But your time machine is broken and you don’t know how to fix it And you try to keep your head in the present but you’re still nowhere near grounded And with nothing else to cling to you find solace in TV mantras Laugh hard my friend And don’t you ever start sulking Run fast my friend And don’t you ever stop running Be kind my friend And don’t you ever half-ass it I let you go I let you finally ascend Still don’t know what I can do to be better But I still want to find out how to be better And yet if I mess up trying to be better I’ll still keep on trying so hard to be better Still can’t be told what it means to better But I still hope life wants me to be better And yet if they’re sick of me trying to be better I’ll prove them wrong one day show them that I’m better Still don’t know what I can do to be better But I still want to find out how to be better And yet if I mess up trying to be better I’ll still keep on trying so hard to be better Still can’t be told what it means to better But I still hope life wants me to be better And yet if they’re sick of me trying to be better I’ll prove them wrong one day show them that I’m better

The highlight of my year was bumping into you In a McDonald’s car park Three summers on you knew my hair in all its length Though I can’t say I knew yours I blushed my way through learning where we both were now You’d gone far further than me And when we said goodbye I found myself smiling Some highlight and some year What have I got to live for What have I got to show Ecological collapse Regret for lost childhood Right wing feelings in the air Microscopic entropy What have I got to live for What have I got to show Five derivative full lengths Folders full of grotty draws Deprecation and boasting Horrible intrusive thoughts Truly something’s gone wrong Truly synapses are glitching Truly I don’t know how to stop it Do you Do you Do you? We’ll see what summers still to come will bring for me Probably less and less I hope my brain and social life will get better Though knowing me not likely So if you’re hearing this reach out give me a call Big emphasis on the if And if you’re in the future when I’m dead and gone just remember I wanted a life.