#thank you to the video essays I watched while I went crazy while stitching this

[aussie-bookworm]

Smashed this project out in one day for a friend’s birthday!

I think it turned out pretty great!

Pattern is by SonovaStitch

[jawnjendes]

isn’t it obvious i’m a wreck | shawn mendes

university au, shawn x goth gf

AN: fun fact the song this fic is named after has the same name as one of shawns songs :P anyway, this one is a bit angsty, and continued from no medicine is strong enough so yh if u like this series blease let me know and blease feel free to reblog the masterlist :’)

masterlist | series playlist

Only rarely was I ever vocal about my pain. Go ahead, pretend to be shocked. I mask my hurt, angry, upset feelings with mannerisms and behaviors my therapist wouldn’t necessarily approve of. I’d clear my throat to keep from crying hysterically. I’d play video games on the couch to avoid thinking about whatever is shaking my world at the moment. I’d fuck my boyfriend to avoid talking about my feelings sometimes, I’ll admit it.

But this… This was something I could not put on a front for, even if I wanted to. I really did not want to put on a mask. Shawn had to see what was happening to me, he had to know what he created inside me. My knees went weak and I was on the floor in his bedroom, heavy tears welling in my eyes. Something like a scream erupted out of me, followed by several loud, uncontrollable sobbing. He didn’t even finish his anecdote before I pieced it together.

My insides went cold as ice but hot as lava at the same time. I felt like I was physically falling apart, like my limbs were going to come off, like my surgery stitches were going to pop, like my heart was going to fall out of my chest if I didn’t hold myself. I hunched over, my forehead hitting the carpet as I cried louder.

“I’m… so sorry,” Shawn mumbled from where he sat on the bed.

“No you’re not!” I yelled at him as I sat up, my voice shaky and incoherent. “You could have done… you could have done so many other things before… before…”

“I know…”

“No you don’t! If you knew you wouldn’t have done anything! If you knew, you could have just broken up with me instead of betray me!” Angry tears streamed down my face, blackened by my mascara. I looked as crazy as I felt, as crazy as I just became. “Who was she? Do you love her?”

“No!” Shawn replied, looking at the floor. He had a pained expression on his face. Pain he only brought to himself. “It was just a stupid mistake, I was-” He sighed.

“What?! Say it!”

He got to his feet, looking down at me. “I was mad, okay? I was angry because you refuse to tell me anything! Ever since you left the hospital, you’ve shut me out! You make it so hard for me to even look at you! You make it so hard for me to love you! You’re so difficult to deal with, it’s like you want me to leave!”

My hand went to my stomach, where I was cut open not that long ago. I could feel the thick, bumpy surgery scar under my shirt. I was practically botched, cut open like a pig at a slaughterhouse. It messed with my head for a bit, and I needed even more therapy for it. I have mild trauma from my time in the hospital and it gives Shawn an excuse to cheat on me? Where is the logic in that?

“You made the decision to go out, hit up some random girl, go home with her… and it’s my fucking fault!?” I screamed, standing up once again. No more tears, I actually wanted to punch him. “You betray me, you hurt me…” Okay, more tears. “You throw away everything we have, after it took so long for me trust you, and it’s my fault?”

It’s my fault! It’s my fault! Everything is my fault!

Shawn made big strides towards me, and he grabbed my arm. He was saying something to me, but I was crying so much it made my stomach hurt. His voice was gentle now, and he was shaking me slightly. I tried to yank myself away, how dare he touch me… His hands have been on someone else’s skin. How could he touch me?

“Honey…”

I closed my eyes and shook my head, not wanting to hear the nickname he gave to everybody. He probably gave her the same nickname. It made me feel incredibly sick, I actually wanted to vomit.

“Hey there, little fighter…”

My eyes opened again, only slightly. It was hard to keep my eyes from squinting, because it was suddenly very bright in the room. I also felt wildly sleepy, like I could slip into a permanent coma at any moment. I couldn’t process any of my surroundings, the only thing I was sure of was that I was sitting on a bed, lying at an angle, and someone was holding my right hand and grabbing my left arm.

After blinking a few times, I looked to my left and saw a blonde lady in green scrubs standing next to me. She had thick black frames on and a pen in her bun. She was poking at a machine next to my bed until she realized I was staring at her with a stupid look on my face.

“Hi there, how ya feeling?” she asked, smiling at me like I was toddler.

“Sad,” I replied in a whisper. My throat was incredibly dry. I coughed once. “I think my boyfriend cheated on me.”

“That boyfriend?” the lady asked, pointing across the bed.

I turned my head the other way, finding Shawn sitting at my bedside. He was holding my hand and looking at me like it was fucking Christmas or something.

“You’re too pretty to cheat,” I mumbled. “Only ugly men cheat.”

He chuckled, though his brow furrowed in mild confusion.

“I feel sick,” I announced. “My boyfriend cheated and I feel sick.”

The blonde lady nurse person quickly grabbed a silver bowl from a table that appeared out of nowhere, and she held it for me as I puked in it. She reassured Shawn that that was normal, it was just the anesthesia. Oh yeah, I had surgery.

I fell asleep after that. When I woke up again, the blonde lady was gone, but Shawn was still holding my hand. Now, I knew that was Shawn Mendes, the popular singing guy from the college I went to. I knew that I knew him on some level. But I just stared at him with groggy eyes while he scrolled on his phone with his free hand.

“You’re pretty,” I mumbled. “Are you single?”

He eyes flickered up to me, and a the corners of his mouth went up. “Huh?”

“Are you here with anyone?” I asked.

“Uh, my mom should be coming soon. Stella just left, though.”

“No, like, do you have a date or something? You taken? You’re so cute…”

“Yeah, I’m taken. By you. I’m your boyfriend.”

My eyes widened for the first time. That statement shocked me so much I fell back asleep.

~

Several things kept me awake in the days after my surgery. For one thing, a nurse came in every hour to check my vitals and my incision site, even at night. I heard Shawn singing to himself whenever I tried to nap. I was pretty sure either his mom, Stella, or both were talking in the room. I felt like I was either balls deep in a coma, or balls deep in insomnia.

Anyway, the surgery was successful. Part of my bowel was removed, and I had to be kept on a liquid diet for a while. I still had a fever that made me slightly delirious. It was like the morphine except my body wasn’t numb. Shawn was quite entertained by my delusions, because I talked way too much about things I normally wouldn’t talk about.

“Don’t tell anyone,” I said to him on day four of fever dreams, “but you’re my favorite person ever, and I’m so lucky to have you.”

He was leaning on the bed, elbows on the thin, lumpy mattress. He was smiling so wide you almost couldn’t notice the bags under his eyes. “Well, you’re my favorite person too, and I’ll tell anyone who will listen.”

“Must be nice to not be scared of your feelings.” I looked at his arm, the one with all the tattoos. Then, I looked at his face. “God, you make me so-”

“So what?” He took my hand in his, and he rubbed my fingers with his thumb. He had a hopeful look in his eyes, like I was going to confess my love for the very first time.

Before my lagging brain could say anything more, a nurse entered the room. Older lady with short grey hair, very smiley. I wasn’t sure what time of the day it was, time didn’t exist in these walls. Maybe it was early, since she was so smiley. Most nurses at night were cranky and sleepy.

“Morning, you two,” she said, walking over to check my vitals on the machines. “You feeling okay, sweetie?”

“I’m good,” I said. “My cut feels warm, though.”

That warm feeling turned out to be a surgical site infection. It was hot, it was red, it was the cause of my fever, and best of all, it smelled and secreted some nasty shit. Needless to say, my hospital stay extended five more days. I had to convince Shawn to go back to work. One of us had to stay busy. He always came back to sleep at the hospital so I wasn't alone.

In other news, I was excused and given full credit for my English final, thank god. No prior studying had been done on my part, so I got lucky. As for research methods, I just had to email my final essay to my professor. Academically, I didn’t have to stress anymore. Living wise, Stella was constantly texting me about which of my belongings should go in which boxes, and where I got my textbooks from because none of them were from the campus bookstore. I had to make Shawn go to campus to help her.

By the time I was properly discharged, all of my things were moved into Shawn’s apartment, and my car was in the parking lot. We stumbled through the front door only to see several boxes lined up on the floor along the wall. I was leaning on Shawn for support, but the hallway was now too crowded for two people.

“Fuck,” Shawn cursed under his breath. “Here, let’s do it this way.”

He moved so he was standing in front of me, and he took both of my hands. Slowly, but surely. I stumbled my way through the hallway, careful not to disturbed the five tiny but deep cuts on my belly. They were still numb from the Vicodin I was given, so it was only a matter of time before the pain kicked in.

“You wanna go to the bed or the couch?” he asked, frequently looking behind himself so as to not trip on anything.

“Couch,” I said, “I wanna watch TV.”

“Alright, here we go.”

Who knew getting to the couch would be so exhausting? I was sat on the soft white cushion in minutes, completely winded. Shawn handed me the remote and smiled.

“Need anything?”

I shook my head.

“Okay. I’m gonna go move those boxes. Let me know if you need anything.”

What I needed was to be useful. Those were my boxes, my belongings. I had to be responsible for them. But no, one wrong move, and I’ll bleed out on Shawn’s white couch.

I couldn’t even lift my legs up and lie down on my side, or reach the handle to recline the seat without straining myself. I could only listen to Shawn move things around, and I could only stare out the massive windows. I had successfully turned into a couch potato in less than five minutes.

Eventually, I settled for watching gaming videos on YouTube. I fell down the rabbit hole that is Legend of Zelda theories. I had nothing else to do, anyway.

Then, my phone went off next to me. I looked at the screen, reading the name of the alarm I had set. It went off every day for the last few months, but weirdly enough I didn't remember it going off while I was in the hospital. Then again, drugs and fever dreams.

The sight of my medication alarm made me gasp softly. I had to get off my birth control and Prozac. Lack of birth control was fine, it just meant that my period would remain irregular. Besides, it’s not like I was having sex at all, not that that’s the reason why I take birth control. Lack of antidepressants would have been bad had I not been on morphine and Vicodin to keep me loopy.

“Babe, can you find me my meds?" I called.

Within minutes, Shawn came over to where I was sitting with the orange bottle and foiled packaging in his hand. He set them down on the coffee table, and then I had to ask him to recline my seat for me. I felt dainty and needy, and not in a good way.

The last of the hospital’s drugs wore off by the time Shawn and I went to bed. The physical act of getting to bed was more strenuous, now that there was nothing numbing me. I had a moderately high pain tolerance, but this shit was enough to keep me awake. I dozed off for minutes at at time before waking up again. Meanwhile, Shawn had knocked out the second his head hit the pillow. He had been moving my boxes into the spare room/his recording studio all day, and he had been running around getting me to the bathroom and walking me around the apartment so I didn’t turn into a full on potato. On top of that, he hadn’t slept much while I was at the hospital. He needed it more than me.

When sleep finally came to me, Shawn took my hand from under the sheets. I was too tired to squeeze it, let him know I was there.

~

I was up and running in the afternoon. Shawn had to work until the evening, so his mom came and stayed with me. Yes, I internally freaked out. Yes, I spoke to her while I was admitted, but I wasn't alone with her until now.

Karen was more persistent about getting me to my feet, so she took me on walks up and down the hallway of the floor this apartment was on. I felt winded every time, but I knew I needed it.

“So, when are your parents coming?” she asked, not for the first time.

“In the next couple of days,” I replied between huffs of breath. “They got my texts this morning, they’re working on flying over here.”

“Okay, good. I can’t wait to meet them.”

I feigned a smile. While I did miss my mom and dad, I was very nervous about their arrival. Not only was this going to be a belated hospital visit, this was also the first time they would be meeting Shawn and his family. Lowkey, I wanted to die. Lowkey, I’d rather be under the scalpel again.

Karen and I talked some more as we strolled through the corridor. I was able to finally tell her things about me that didn’t have to do with my illness. I told her about my goal of getting my Bachelors in psychology, and how much I loved my dealership job. You know, things your boyfriend’s mom would like to hear.

“Do you plan on staying in Toronto when you finish college?” she asked.

“I haven’t fully decided yet,” I said, “but it’s not off the table.”

“I imagine you’d like to keep living with Shawn if you stay.”

For once, I hesitated. It made me nervous. Was I supposed to be outwardly obsessed with her son, say I’d love nothing more than to be at his side all the time? I didn’t know how to sugar coat serious things like that, so I decided to be honest.

“Maybe. I mean, I’m only here because I had surgery and can’t travel.” I’m supposed to be home. “The only plan I have is to work in my field of study until I can open my own practice, wherever that may be. But I do love it here in Toronto, and I… I love Shawn.”

His mother was looking ahead as we walked, but she smiled at my sentiment. She was quiet, though, which prompted me to keep rambling.

“Like, if he and I are still together when we graduate, then yeah, we could live together. Properly, y’know, not while I’m recovering from surgery.”

Karen nodded in approval. “You’re realistic. That’s good. It’s good for him as well.”

I internally relaxed. Finally, a rational mom.

“You know Shawn is happy with you, right?” she said to me. “I’m sure he tells you, but I think you need to hear it from someone outside the relationship.”

“Really?” I asked. I felt a hint of doubt in my mind, but I wasn’t sure why. Karen was right, Shawn did tell me all his thoughts and feelings all the time. I just had the smallest feeling that maybe I was being lied to.

“Oh yes. The day he took you out on a first date, he told me… ‘Mum, I have a really good feeling about her. I haven’t felt this way about anyone before.’ He was over the moon, and he still is.”

My cold ass heart jumped for joy. I let myself believe I wasn’t being lied to.

~

Karen had to leave about an hour before Shawn was off his shift, meaning I had to be a couch potato for that long. It wasn’t a problem as long as I didn’t have to use the bathroom, and not much was getting into my system these days. After the liquid diet from the hospital, I was put on a “soft” diet. Most of what I ate was bananas, applesauce, and white rice. Oh, and soup. So much soup. Neither Shawn nor I cooked, so he always brought me soup or pasta from a shop downtown.

Shawn had decided to eat soft foods with me so I wouldn’t feel alone. But I knew he was most likely devouring whatever fast food was nearby his flower shop. I knew because I would probably do the same damn thing.

“Okay, they were out of chicken noodle,” he called as he entered the apartment, “but they had broccoli and cheddar, I know you like that!”

He made it to the couch, sat next to me, and kissed me on the cheek. Then, he set the brown paper bag down on the coffee table. He carefully took out the large styrofoam cup, but paused when he saw what I had on the TV.

“Thought you would have had enough of hospitals by now,” he commented, his chipper mood suddenly turned.

I shrugged. “Grey’s is comforting.”

Shawn sat back with my soup and handed it to me. “Can we watch something else?”

“Aw, don’t you wanna watch Lexie kick the can again?” I joked, giggling.

For whatever reason, he wasn’t amused. “Please. Change it.”

My laughter immediately died down. Then, I grabbed the remote and switched to The Office. “Sorry.”

Shawn had been hovering ever since I was admitted to the hospital. He frequently asked how my incisions were doing, if I felt faint, or if I needed anything at all. His hand was on my forehead more than it was sweetly cupping my cheek. He stayed by my side every minute. The only other thing he did was work at the flower shop. I wasn’t even sure if he had met up with Teddy for songwriting lately.

“How was work?” I asked him, nudging his side.

“I’ve seen too many roses today,” he replied, lying his head back on the cushion. “We have so many options, but everyone just wants roses. Or daisies.”

“Thought you liked roses.”

“Yeah, but when you see as many flowers as I do... “

“I wish I could go visit you,” I told him. “I’ve never actually seen where you work.”

“Mm, it’s a small place with a lot of light. Might be too out of your comfort zone.”

I made a face. Confused, but also mildly annoyed. Instead of snapping at him, I remained patient. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He picked up his head again and looked at me. “I’m just worried about you, my little fighter.”

“Well, I’ll be able to work again in ten days, and I’m on a soup diet. I just can’t travel on a plane or anything yet.” More specifically, I couldn’t go back home. I tried to adjust myself so I could look at Shawn properly, but a certain sting on my abdomen kept me still. “Have you sang lately? Do you have any gigs booked?”

Shawn looked at the TV and shook his head. “I couldn’t go even if I had one. I’ve got a sick girlfriend here, after all.”

Maybe I was already going crazy from the impending cabin fever, but that kinda hurt. A sting of guilt when through my chest. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” He changed the subject. “So, some of my friends are asking about you. They wanna come visit.”

The guilt only increased. Lately, I’ve been a lot more vulnerable than I was comfortable with. I was practically helpless in front of my boyfriend, who had only seen me as strong and independent up until my bowel crapped out on me. This was different territory, and I didn't like it.

“Not while I’m like this,” I said sheepishly. It wasn’t the first time I turned away visitors. I only allowed Shawn, Stella, and Karen to see me at the hospital.

“That’s okay,” Shawn replied. “Whenever you’re ready, you got people.”

Normally he would press the topic. In the earlier stages of our relationship, it was hard to come around to meeting Shawn’s friends. Almost none of them were expecting someone like Shawn to date someone like me. As always, I was my quiet and mysterious self, and it was a little off putting to them. Not to mention, my small reputation of sleeping around had gotten to some of them in the past. It was frowned upon when it was me, but if I recall correctly, my boyfriend used to be the exact same way. However, Shawn always gave me a push to be more engaging and reminded me to give people a chance, but this time he just let me have my way.

I was wide awake that night, and it wasn’t from my surgery pain.

It’s been two days since I was discharged. A week and a half since my surgery. Stella flew home to Florida without saying goodbye, and I was still stuck on not having any other visitors. I didn’t even tell my own friends, like the guys from my video game club. Most of them probably went home for the summer anyway. Now, Shawn was acting weird. Was he mad at me because I was keeping him from his music? Was he upset that I was taking up space in his apartment?

I turned my head to look at his sleeping figure. The moonlight shone in through the window, so I could barely make out the features of his body. For once, he didn’t look tense or stressed. He kept a physical distance from me, though. We couldn’t spoon like normal because I couldn’t lay on my side. Last night he still made the effort to hold my hand. Never had I wanted to turn to him and stroke his curly hair more than I did tonight.

Shawn suddenly twitched in his sleep. Not dramatically, but just enough to catch my attention. He was lying on his front, head facing me. He twitched again, and let out a small noise. It was a monotonous hum, lasted a good five seconds.

Delicately, I placed my hand on his bare shoulder. It was a little awkward because I couldn’t physically turn my body towards him, but I was still able to touch him.

Another groan left his mouth, distressed. Then, he yelped and twitched, now a little more spastic. He gasped and groaned into his pillow, so I gently shook him.

“Hey, hey babes. Wake up,” I said weakly. “Please wake up.”

Shawn woke with one final jerk of his shoulder. Panting, he turned onto his back and placed his hands over his face. “Fuck… Oh, fuck…”

“You’re okay,” I told him, touching his arm. “It’s okay. Just a dream, it’s okay.”

He took my hand and kissed my knuckles, all while trying to control his breath. Then he turned his body towards me. “I love you.” His voice shook in a way that made my heart ache.

I only returned the pressure on his hand, watching his face. It was probably for the best that I couldn’t see the exact expression he had on. I really hated seeing him in distress.

“I need to hear you say it,” he pleaded, holding my hand to his chest. “I need to hear your voice.”

“Shawn-”

“Please...”

“I love you. You know I love you,” I told him gently. “Do… do you wanna talk about what just happened?”

He shook his head. “No. No, I just wanted to hear your voice for a minute. I love you so much.”

That wouldn’t be the only night he would yell in his sleep and wake up shaking. That kept me up more than any surgical pain.

[luisneer]

selected tweets 2016-17

These are tweets from my first @luisneer twitter account. Recently I made a new twitter account with the same username, after having deleted my account and having been without twitter for several months. These tweets are from August 2016 to March 2017, which was most of my first year of college at Shepherd University, in Shepherdstown, West Virginia. I don't go to Shepherd anymore; I transferred to West Virginia University, in Morgantown, WV, after my second semester. My tweets from late March 2017 to [July or August] 2017, when I deleted my twitter, were not archived. 

I'm creating this blog post so the world will have access to some of my tweets from the deleted @luisneer, in case they have any merit as literature. I'm still not sure if I will continue to use twitter in 2018/the future. Usually when I use twitter I feel like I'm actually wanting to be doing something else, but I don't know what; or wanting to be using "another app" that doesn't exist. Twitter generally seems bad for me. Questions about my tweets August 2016-March 2017 can be directed at luisneer@gmail.com. Thank you

    2016

   morgantown has ~48 vape shops

 **morgantown has ~480 vape shops

 siri has werner herzog-like inflections

 considering changing outfits when i take several walks in one day (so nobody thinks im a serial killer, stalker, spy, alien)

 think i remember ~5% of things i said today

 imagined vague connection btwn 'vitamin d' and 'reptar'

 felt distinctly that i was a monkey or chimpanzee while crouching in the corner of my dorm room eating peanuts out of a jar

 just thought (as a request to my mom) 'fax me my skateboard...'

 looked at toilet in bathroom stall with expression of 'utter terror' for what felt like ~15 seconds while it flushed

 listening to bright eyes with headphones at house show

 feel that the toothpaste i use is advancing decay of my teeth

 feel 100% certain that i could train myself to use telepathy to operate my phone during classes

 enjoying the sensation of my right leg 'falling asleep' during psychology class (left foot is also 'asleep')

 felt 'sociopathic' after eye contact w library worker who watched me pick up & pocket a pair of apple headphones someone had left on a chair

 left stolen apple headphones on gray bench across the street from my dorm

 repeatedly placed/removed sunglasses while walking in hallway

 strong desire to remove all positive patterns from my life and perpetuate/embrace all negative ones

 feel that my laptop 'knows' which parts of its screen im looking at

 in winchester, VA

 thought of my own music as having 'no compelling audible elements'

 thought of myself as being legally named 'the fuck up', then couldnt remember my actual name

 successfully, i feel, duplicated 'sociopath facial expression' during eye contact with arch-nemesis in stairwell

 ive taken 13800mg ibuprofen since i got to college

 feel compelled to ask my 9 yr old brother for advice re 'college-level' personal issues

 feel smart after sitting on couch in painting studio + reading art magazines for 2 hours

 persistent notion that 100% of students at my college personally hate me

 psychology professor muttered something like 'scary snake... endocrine system...'

 feeling heavily drugged/sedated in psych class

 psych professor seems obsessed with/terrified by snakes

 imagined kanye smoking crystal meth and tweeting something like 'please help me... cant feel mouth... need help'

 saw a moth at open mic, thought about god

 experiencing difficulty trying to smile

 enjoying using numerous cliches ('the case is closed', 'taking a step back', 'harsh realities') in an essay

 intrigued by conversation i had 9 hrs ago w/ 2 boys who countered my tone (calm, eloquent) exactly by being loud and rude in a friendly way

 felt simultaneously really cute and really lonely while giggling with my mouth closed in french class

 imagined kanye inventing the word 'compactualize' and using it in a sentence during a televised interview

 enjoyed 8-sentence john updike bio in norton lit anthology

 perceived person standing outside bathroom stall occupied by me could 'sense', via something like echolocation, that i was/am depressed

 spoke to french professor in what felt like a distinct persona/alternate luis neer called 'marge simpson voice' luis neer

 feel confidently that the public debut of 'marge simpson voice' luis neer was a success

 feel that 'marge simpson voice' luis neer is the culmination of an unconscious process that initiated in my mind maybe 3-5 years ago

 i want to identify/analyze additional alternate luis neers

 i dont like videos

 i came to college and got weirder, better at writing, more arrogant, more defeated, more sensible

 simultaneously feel that i should run 3 miles and that, at this moment, i would be incapable of running any distance

 feel urged to draw new attention to my 'marge simpson voice' tweets

 huge power outage at shepherd lol

 realized theres no such thing as a 'nation'

 remembered ive blown off obligations to several people, not just one person, so my irresponsibility doesnt 'have a focus', felt comforted

 feel that my follower count is 'crystallized' / will never increase or decrease ever again

 struggled to convert 'stick-and-poke' to past tense during conversation in line at sheetz

 feel it would be pleasurable to take a donut + bottle of coca-cola from this sheetz via armed robbery

 crossed busy road, felt really surprised i didnt get hit by a car, also i wasnt wearing glasses, was walking to sheetz, bought an icee

 laughed alone in my dorm thinking that i should print out a picture of barack obama to put on my wall

 drank from separate glasses containing soymilk, coffee, iced coffee, apple juice, cranberry juice, water, sprite for dinner/breakfas

 just thought 'from adorno to zizek' sans context while shitting

 opened gmail, emailed my father, closed gmail, opened gmail again, viewed email to my father, forwarded it to myself

 'camcorder' would be a good band name

 i thought arnold palmer had already died

 willem dafoe doesnt make me uncomfortable

 i want to stop being mean

 i hate bfs but i want to be someones bf

 wishing i was in a car with friends and no cellular service

 tangled up in myself and others

 twin peaks is depicted as a small town but its population is greater than that of every city in west virginia including the state capital

 eating shark

 thought of my own intelligence as 'frightening'

 thought while walking to class that ginger ale should be made public domain

 had the stitches on my chin removed today, touched the scar tissue for the first time

 i miss being in therapy

 i love carpet

 i love carpet !!

 just thought about my own tweets and lol'd

 mood lately very fragile

 this is what i get for staying up til 5 am

 all night i've felt a wave of dread swelling up, now it's really hitting me

 sound of laughter in public still frightening + unnerving

 my instinct for when to unfriend people on facebook has adapted so that i unfriend people over statuses that make me feel no emotions at all

 fuck, im feeling so much terror

 gucci mane was born 3 days before conor oberst

 the other day i mentioned that i was a poet and this vape guy interrupted me to say "and you didnt know it" and i went fucking nuclear

 interacted with mailman who was picking up mail as i was trying to mail chapbooks, he didnt notice at first that i was talking to him

 what if old people have secrets

 my dad is making me root for a football team but im in pain emotionally

 i feel guilty in general

 thought of my poem "portrait of a nation without any people" as the "lead single" for my full length; it appeared in potluck 14 months ago

 im close friends with satan rn

 feel like travis scott never intended for people to spell his name with a $

 from now on every time i get honey on something ill list the thing in this thread

 finger

 desk

 coffee cup exterior

 pajama pants

 knee

 carpet

 chin

 phone

 shirt

 shoe

 thought that my elderly geography prof. moves by "shuffling"

 feeling shorter, broader

 the only part of the new bright eyes box set i want is the booklet

 is there a booklet? i know there are nvr b4 sn photos

 the song "lime tree" came to conor oberst in a dream

 i like citing things in MLA

 i write essays by pretending im werner herzog

 doesnt seem to be getting later

 lit professor gave my project (sequence of 6 sonnets) a C, i wish she would have gotten me expelled, shelley + ginsberg both were expelled

 heard someone in another room ask "where's wal-mart?" as if wal-mart were a person whose location could change

 i think i just swallowed a filling while eating popcorn, i am very scared, please help

 crazy how things get worse

 there are people on my floor having tons of fun and im upset

 bit my mattress while sitting in the chair next to my bed

 weird that chance the rapper only has 2.4 million followers when he's sort of one of the most famous artists in the world rn

 also weird that donald trump has made 34,000 tweets, seems like an incredibly large number

 the strangeness of yesterday was, for me, augmented by people on the internet talking about a tv show that ive never seen or heard about

 the sunlight is obscene

 im so upset about the sun being so bright im afraid to go outside

 im glad im the only poet who likes trailer park boys

 i slept in a blanket fort under my bed and havent left it all day

 yr = your ur = you're

 my favorite things are pdfs

 now that ive adapted my living space to allow me to never leave my blanket fort i feel like my roommate, omar, exists in a parallel universe

 i hear him but i never see him

 i love latte art, i drink many lattes

 thought that twitter "isn't worth it" in an upset tone while drinking mtn dew

 felt pleasant considering uniqueness of all parent-offspring relationships

 went through my closet + made sure all shirts and jackets were zipped/buttoned

 my blanket is generating flashes of light from static electricity

 record store guy became visibly sick of me several months ago; feel a little guilty every time i enter his store to spend money

 i prefer EPs

 felt "out of control" walking downhill listening to dead kennedys with headphones

 writing an essay is difficult because idk how much relevant information other people have already considered / moved on from

 have been wanting to write at least one poem inside my blanket fort but i don't think it's going to happen, i don't know why

 the internet isn't big enough

 usually when i think "i dont understand the uproar about [event]" i realize there is no "uproar"

 "uproar" is media's way of manipulating the public spotlight and distracting people from important tasks

 feeling helpless + melancholy after dying 15 times and killing 2 stormtroopers in star wars battlefront

 the only way to attain conor oberst-level emo hair is to lay in bed and sob for hours

 i'm sad

 my mom was confused when i told her my first book comes out today

 was luis neer in odd future

 thought "sometimes i just want to end it and start all over" in an exasperated tone re my goodreads account

 becoming increasingly convinced it would be best for me personally to take myself extremely seriously/never joke about myself

 thinking that my tweets would seem terrible if i were a senator/governor/other politician

 imagined doomsday device for future @starwars movies: the "death train," a normal train that exists in space and destroys planets

 how does anyone do it

 in science fiction movies, spacecraft usually look like shopping malls

 everyone in the world is high except me

 feel like i want to have poems published immediately

 having delusions of grandeur

 im sitting on my record player

 my most-used word in 2016 was "bleak"

 prepared and ate garbanzo beans w a lot of rosemart at 2:00 AM

 my brother has a friend over and is being mean to the friend

 all i want for christmas is to never cheer up, ever

 watching eyes wide shut and hugging duckuc

 my nose feels like it's going to bleed

 im sad because every bf looks like me

 getting better at eating ice cream by punching it with my tongue

 the internet is too freaky...

 i think 2017 will be a year of realizing things

 im watching the angry birds movie

 the angry birds movie is so shitty... why was it made...

 ive never had a new years kiss

   2017

   im weird

 eating medicinal ice cream

 im not going to do any drugs in 2017

 made a medicinal phone call

 i want to drink some blood

 i dreamed that roger ebert wrote a negative review of life after ppl and called it "liner notes"

 years dont kill people

 feel inexplicably/explicably really scared about the future of my poetry career

 i've felt stoned since i was a baby

 downloading google earth

 made eye contact in starbucks with possible luis neer incarnation from ~50 years in future; bon jovi "dead or alive" played through speakers

 realised that at some point in the future i will become extremely interested in watching football

 i recommend reading poems extremely slowly while touching the text with your middle finger/index finger

 experiencing cognitive dissonance

 used phonetic clues to correctly predict meaning of & use the word "tandem" while discoursing with myself internally

 i miss steel pedal guitar sounds on conor oberst songs

 my previous incarnation "college luis neer" has evolved to become "high school luis neer-like luis neer in college setting"

 thought "man, i got to stop caring what people think about me" in an emphatic tone that seemed confusing/interesting

 mediocore

 beyonce is cool i think

 i want to re-read "v for vendetta" and to not tweet about it

 remembered that i own a pinata

 i will be at awp

 how could i make twitter a better place

 i saw 4 people wearing yeezys in dc this weekend

 feeling increasingly self-conscious about how much i use the phrase "in the world" or refer to "the world" in poems

 felt robot-like while attaching detachable headphones cord to my headphones while wearing the headphones

 watching shepherd univ lacrosse team practice from "safety of" student center

 i invented releasing two chapbooks in one day

 im dumber than me

 reasoned mentally that im more likely to produce accurate drawings of myself because "i basically look like a bird, so i just draw a bird"

 i want to have a "fake tweet" (e.g. a simple phrase) to tweet repeatedly every time i feel urged to tweet an uninformed/unimportant opinion

 my fake tweet for the foreseeable future will be "i dropped my textbook in the stairwell". when i tweet this it means i have an opinion

 i dropped my textbook in the stairwell

 does anyone remember the chapter of "the hobbit" where bilbo avoids starvation by ingesting peanut butter, honey, cherry nyquil, and water

 sensed that all my college friends just simultaneously shifted from having vague/non-serious negative feelings about me to hating me

 resulting from continuous building of irrepressible/inevitable conjecture in the friends' conscious thoughts

 eating chicken and squash

 i click on 100% of poetry links tweeted by poets i follow

 when i was writing Waves i was obsessed with waves (e.g. energy waves, frequencies) and used the word "waves" at least ~10 times every day

 i dropped my textbook in the stairwell

 white nike swooshes on shoes of boy in library look vibrant/magical

 terrified of being cool

 walked to library really slowly while listening to noise music through big headphones

 i was really, really yung when i started publishing and i'm still really yung

 2 chainz always looks like he's walking in an airport

 i have 5 twitters

 i didnt know what bill paxton looked like, i was thinking RIP gene hackman

 why doesnt anyone blog about me

 thesis statements arent real

 thinking about my book

 i deleted both my tumblrs by accident

 sad about my tumblr

 my name is all over the internet

 im a lizard

 someday there'll be no more ppl

 a lot of conor oberst song titles have parentheses

 feeling sad about the actions of my clone, who passed away

 idk how to use venmo or what it is

 present-day tumblr is like the end of the never ending story where atreyu is talking with the rock biter and the nothing is swirling around

 when someone, anyone, is upset with me im afraid im going to be assassinated

 the views-era apple music ads that depict drake working hard in the studio have really affected and inspired me

 on tumblr i have 4 followers

 almost all of my tweets seem unimportant

 feel that if someone told me that one of my tweets made them upset i would just apologize and delete it

 ground control to commander venus

 i like my new tumblr

 i would be wearing a cardigan rn but i dont have one

 feel that i will continue to generate bright eyes-related content throughout my life

 is everything ok

 i look like michael moore