liveblog 08/12/25

00:00: Jack off thinking about Jacob Elordi and fantasise about how envious certain people would be if Jacob and I were together. About him making me sign an NDA just so we can sleep together.

08:26: Pee then open willpower book.
The book asks me to meditate. Something in my body feels like a victim in a horror, screaming, begging not to be killed.
I don’t want to sit with my legs crossed. I don’t want to give up five minutes of precious screen time.

08:40: Begin meditation exercise.
I’m meant to focus on my breath, but I’m pretty sure I don’t breathe for a full minute.
I notice my foot’s on a damp towel. I get goosebumps. I want to rub my eyes, itch my scalp, adjust my seating position, go for a walk. Just when I think I can’t take the boredom anymore, the timer goes off, and I get back into bed.
I laugh at the line “The birds in the trees are singing John Lennon’s ‘Imagine.'”

09:11: Fml another breathing exercise. Apparently people who breathe four to six times a minute are less depressed.

09:11: I get a roaring urge to post on Instagram, but compromise with BigTech/TheDevil that I’ll do so after a walk.

9:25: I walk upstairs for a glass of water and a q-tip. My mom’s in the kitchen with a posture training band pulling her shoulders back. She’s just gotten back from a tramping trip. We talk about self control. I say elimination seems a lot easier than management, so I don’t know how I’ll navigate my relationship with screen time. She agrees, saying if there’s a packet of cookies in the pantry, she will think about it all day, but if there’s isn’t one, cookies won’t cross her mind. 
She’s been loving chapel roan but has to close her ears during many lyrics. 

10:00: I head back into my room. I change into mini combat shorts with tights underneath and a bleach dyed shirt. I play Pink Pony Club. At first my dancing is twitchy, think Lorde Pure Heroine era. Then the chorus lifts and I’m captured, hands and knees on the floor, swinging my head around. I leap through the door and skip onto the road. Between each step I jump and flail mid air as if I’m falling from great heights. 

10:13: I reach a field of cows and open the lyrics to Pink Pony Club and belt it for them twice. 

10:24: My tights stick to my skin with sweat. I pause behind a tree and accidentally open X. 

10:30: I like wearing tights because I can lift my shorts when dancing in public and won’t catch a case for it. 

A couple fantail swoop past me. 

Listening to Virgin. Wonder what Lordes breath smells like. 

An Oklou song comes on. I recall the phrase ‘ethical mid’

I’m on twin oak drive. Three rows of trees. Dappled light. I’m in the largest bedroom in the world. 

10:53: I run into one of Oriah’s friends, he’s on a date, and we small talk. “If you guys have nothing on in a few hours and feel like expanding your horizons, send me a message.” I say. I hope it doesn’t sound like I’m propositioning a threesome. 

11:04: Troy calls the gamers’ Discord. Apparently, the person who made Spotify Wrapped was an unpaid, uncredited intern. 
I stop to smell some purple flowers. 
Troy won a thousand dollars last night from a two-dollar bet. I say that’s all the more reason for him to help tidy my room. 
I’m the only person who separates their whites. 
Lars asks ‘Would you rather: every time someone makes a joke around you, you have to explain the joke to the nearest person, no matter if they got it or not, OR every time someone says a fact, you have to ‘well actually,’ their fact and say the same thing but slightly more specific.  
They’re too similar to be a good Would You Rather, but everyone has fun discussing it. Charlie chooses the joke one, and I choose well, actually. 

11:23: I get home. Lie in bed. Realise I shouldn’t. Go upstairs to find my mom and the end of life care person who looked after my grandma and helped with the funeral a couple months ago. The end of life person comes to hug me but I don’t let her because I’m sweaty. I head back to bed and open Test Chat. My nickname there is ‘brike.’ No one knows if it’s s typo of ‘brick’ or ‘broke.’ They make transphobic jokes about me as whinge about my paycheque being $70 this week. It gets weird when someone says “All Roman nations are prone to pedophilia.”

12:05: Rey texts me a photo of his asshole. I think yuck, but reply ‘hot.’

12:32: During my camera roll clear out, I fangirl over the time Rivelino (the green line theory guy) retweeted me. I wonder what book i was reading on the 15th of June 2024 because the line “He looked at photos of the camps being liberated for thinspo and couldn’t make it up a flight of stairs.” Is really funny. I discover a bunch of draft tweets. 

  • Cannot wait to stain a toilet bowl 
  • I wish I could have started in the Lindsay Ellis rape rap
  • Sixty is the new 30. U don’t start getting old until ur like 65
  • Italian American save me
  • I’m far more interesting and I’m not insecure about my body btw
  • My uncle told me that minorities aren’t allowed to use Bluetooth anymore
  • My little brother is diabetic so sometiems when i want to cancel or postpone a hook up i say that my brother has low blood sugars and i have to look after him because he might die
  • Having a man could cure my eczema
  • I have spent enough time dreaming about 7 boyfriends. It is time to realise l am strong and powerful and capable and self sufficient. I also have eczema and i’m very

12:56: How a beautiful princess who wants to unlock goodness in her soul would tidy her room: 
She would get a big plastic bag 
And put all the pieces of nicotine gum into it 
She would fold her washing 
And even pair her socks.
But I don’t want to do that. I pick up the willpower book and it tells me to jog around the block. I call Theodora instead.

13:31: I open grindr to a flood of messages. Most of my replies are ‘pls dont shave’ or ‘would you like to help tidy my room platonic style?’
Someone sends a photo of an eraser on his penis.

14:50: League of Legends has swallowed me

17:37: At least I’m gaming with friends…

19:06: I pop a quetiapine. This evening offers nothing fruitful.

19:30: Mom’s made dinner: Falafel, avocado, beetroot, hummus, something. It’s much nicer than her usual cooking. I do the dishes as a thank you.

20:00: Oomf went bald and now he’s chopped. Very few people should ever go bald.

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