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It's February but it's always a New Year if you want it to be.

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ALL OF THIS AND A GUTTER

before me, the world hard to think of the world bitter, round can't wait to be dead watch it move from above see if be romantic without me

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CURIOSITY IS A JOB or I READ MY BOYFRIEND A PORN STORY BUT I DON'T THINK HE LIKED IT VERY MUCH after Variety

anywhere you walk men are staged. lifting heavy boxes staring at your body and thinking about porn. not sex. porn. the act of porn. Christine sells tickets down at the porn theater. the tickets only cost $2. there are men in suits having important conversations. i think about their hearts. i spy on them. i spy on porn. i follow it. i need to be stopped. Christine loves to tell porn stories. she's really good at them. she sits all day in a glass booth. she trades a pack of cigarettes for a break. i take a long walk through a maze of boxes. it's a threat to be here. i think Christine should hang out with the women at the bar. they all want pleasure too. i'm waiting to find the time to call this boy back. it's dramatic on the floor. curled around my record player. staring at the phone. i should really call my mom back. Christine is eating food. she's talking about porn with her mouth full. she's talking about johns with her mouth full. bright lights fill the streets. an old john took Christine to a ball game once. he left half way through for a porn emergency. she's obsessed with him. i'm still trying to figure out what i like about sex. on the street i see lots of dead fish. gutted. gutless. no heads. pink inside.

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When I get to the vineyard, I notice all my coworkers are dressed a certain way—with exaggerated makeup, neon clothes, spandex. Like dolls from the ’80s. Which, I learn, is because they recently made a movie about a popular doll from the ’80s and today is the day you could dress up in homage. But I’m dressed regular. Because I didn’t know. “Well did you check [scheduling app],” my boss says. She’s got a sideways ponytail and makeup all over her face, representing a version of the doll a kid has drawn on. We’re in the walk-up bar, a converted shipping container with service windows. She’s counting cash and putting it into drawers. “No I told you, I don’t look at that shit. I refuse.” “Well there ya go dummy,” she says. She asks me if I’m gonna be ok in the customer-facing bar, because I’m usually in the service bar. She’s smiling. And I tell her that I’m trying to evolve as a person.

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you can write it on my tombstone: 'i wanted it!"

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In The Men’s Locker Room At The Gym

I’m approaching.

I’m asking if they believe in God.

Most of these naked guys?

Nonbelievers.

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my name is pronounced GAY-bree-el. i was born on Halloween, do the math. im dark and i like dark …. so dont like me . 🖤🖤 im cryz … very cryz …. dark …. drops …"waw"… ever since i was young i like to include blood in the poetry i write. i like to write about what's happening to me as i write. (if anyone would like to make me bleed by doing horrible things to me while i write about what you are doing to me, my roommates are out of town until a week from Friday.)

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I'm only pontificating—I'm not a lagomorph. I only wear this headdress of long fabric bunny ears to prove that I am fuckable. What I am, though, is boyish for my age and a person who collects little people and animals. Also, a body without organs—as I am a schizophrenic. An unorganized body, an astral being. However, I'm a medicated one. Hence the inertia. I'm an over-medicated one because I'm also an opioid-lite addict.

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update on sam pink. reading his essay response to "fuccboi" an autofic book he says copied his style. in this essay he comes off particularly unpleasant. i think i have a love hate relationship with sam pink. the way he writes about women is questionable. my initial judgement of his talent retains but the feelings complicate. have you read fuccboi/would you ever? are you reading anything right now?

I have not read that essay, I will look it up. I would probably read Fuccboi, I'm not one to take sides in artist disputes like that. Though, if it is as much of a ripoff as he suggests, I wonder how genuine it reads.

I suspect like many talented artists, Sam Pink is probably not the most pleasant person to be around. It's unfortunate that it usually works out that way, but I suppose it is what it is. I have so little hope for anyone (male) of even moderate success to be a decent person that I really just don't even gets my hopes up lol.

It is also funny because some people have at times said they've gotten a Sam Pink vibe, for sure an inspiration, in my own writing. I don't really feel like it would go as far as Sam Pink is suggesting Fuccboi has gone, but it is fun to think about.

I'm reading like twenty different books and finishing none of them. You?