AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! Yeah, my whole fam now knows I am obsessed with Vico. But deep down, Jeffrey has my heart. Vico just has my sex. If Jeffrey posted a lot more I feel like I’d also be thirsting after him but unfortunately he doesn’t post any pictures of himself. Four words: Smells Like Teen Spirit. URRRGGGGHHHHH MY DELUSION IS OFF THE CHARTS YESTERDAY AND TODAY. I love being high on atomoxetine. I just hate that it’s not making me productive. It makes me have chills on my head. The pleasant kind. It makes songs 100x better. I just vibe my day away. Gateway drug. Be vigilant. Atomoxetine is making me crave social interaction. Weird. Good? OH HOLY FUCK. Gelo Llamas full name. Angelo Gabriel Llamas???? Eh? Alizeiah as Mary. He was interested in her in the dream. But she refused. LOL. So the Holy Spirit can impregnate people. Eh? Joseph = Joe Fenti post by Jeffrey? I’m actually not against giving birth. I would, for the right person. A silent wish for Jeffrey to be that person, but I feel like he’s currently lost and busy with his own life and in the “building stage” now. It’s super weird how I keep dreaming of Gelo Llamas, when he was just a happy crush. I don’t even dream of Sabby or Stanley. Maybe it means something. Also, Angela Santos full name = Angela Gabrielle Santos. Maybe she’s part of this. Inordinately pleased because I just googled what Stanley Sayson means and it means “stony field” + “grandson” which is coincidentally what Shawntel’s name means too. Her name means “singer or stone” and her last name means grandson. BRUH. I feel on fire today. So Shawntel, takes a bit of explaining to do. She's a minor celebrity that has a link to Vico. They're very compatible, I think. Yeah, I don’t know why I keep running into parallels. Gelo and Angela. Shawntel and Stanley. Yeah. Even Sabby which is just one letter shy of my own. This puzzle makes me high. High on what? Synchronicity. The odds of that—just fucking look!!!! How???? WHAT????! Maybe Shawntel is Vico’s Stanley. But I don’t even like Stanley that much. Me basically spring cleaning my IG because I want to be _respectable_ to future men??????? Ugh. Unless, they are stalking my Bluesky and X account too. Whatever. Maybe I’ll find a guy who’ll like me for me and not the prestige. I don’t talk about sex that much with my family. Except they probably have this working idea that I’m the horniest family member of the family simply because I find it more comfortable to talk about these things. I mean, I didn’t tell them I want to fuck Vico but they’re just wondering why maybe I have a crush on him. Like as if my mom wasn’t delusionally believing that he looks like my dad, which is not true at all. His father looks weirdly like my dad, but Vico looks like his mom more. I think. Or he doesn’t look like either of them but he got the best of them both. I just got a great new idea I hope hasn’t been done before. A book about what would happen if an Angel chose a stereotypical “hoe” who has slept around with many men because she is a sugar baby. Just like Redeeming Love but literalized into the actual Jesus being born of a “hoe.” Just think of all the Yo Mama jokes this Jesus would have to deal with. The fallout of being a son of a hoe. Or that their baby is a girl, making the Angel look really bad (or maybe God) to a lot of congregations up there. On top of that, the girl Jesus is UGLY UGLY. But no matter, they are not supposed to be married anyway or have that as their life mission. LOL. Jesus was said to have no beauty at all—so that part is true. Except this girl wants nothing to do with being Jesus at all. It could all be a series where she has this “transformation” that’s just her yo-yo-ing between her “true mission” and her “beauty pursuit” and the ending is that God or Angel finally gives up and makes her supernaturally beautiful that she gets what she wants—for a price, of course. Plus, it has the incel energy of her being mad asf and bitter about not inheriting her mother’s sex appeal. Yeah. Thinly-veiled roman a clef path here I come. Who knows who will marry me now if I manage to be this heretical and ignite a movement where all these hoes are just becoming Christians by the droves and make them very appealing to a certain type of person who will marry them anyway because of “love.” Yeah. I guess that’s the price. Meanwhile, this “hoe as Mary” was written by a virgin whose only experience with sex is masturbation. I want to write this novel idea but I have work to do—perennially a problem. I have all these great concepts now, which is progress but I need a different kind of progress now: execution and follow-through. LOL. I can never be a “serious” writer because the tone I’m currently capable of is so YA and simplified. Maybe I’ll just use that to my advantage. So far, it’s 7PM. I haven’t caved yet and watched Wake Up Dead Man. Just great _no sarcasm_. Just fucking great. WAKE UP DEAD ABBY. I just realized that maybe I don’t think on my feet is because I’ve always been a journal writer. I never think unless I’m writing things down. Maybe they are doing a thing too, like what part of insanity is this now? Could it be, if I have reasonably made people believe in my theories, that they believe they are now Jesus too? And that they’re distracting me to death so I never fulfill it? That’s actually very strange, but HDP’s posts have me believing it. Like, he’s just “pretending” to be a “suitor” of some sort when it’s probably not him who’s behind those posts that all manage to be related to each other. And cluing me in on how I’m being watched by everybody. I don’t even know but it’s making me feel bad. So many people just starved for meaning. I mean come up with your own schizo theories I guess? I haven’t written anything creative these past few days. Well, there’s my quota. I should STOP BEING AN IDIOT AND ACTUALLY WORK!!!!!!!!! It’s 9:34PM. If anyone is reading me right now. I will not break this promise if I give myself only 30 minutes or so for this entertainment loop to be closed. I will prove that I just need to “sow my wild oats” until I’m blue in the face (or prove this theory wrong). I’m just existing in a “play mode” but have unconscious “work” pressure all the time ruining my enjoyment. I’m never full at all. My loop was interrupted by my mom and being asked to help bathe my sister. Yeah. I’m gonna do work even though I have 12 minutes left technically. It’s only 30 minutes!!!! PLEASE. OMFG MY LEGS ARE ON FIRE AFTER 6 MEASLY MINUTES OF HIIT. WELL, HIIT as defined by my fucking body. FUCK. I decide to work out and I’m maxed out at 6 fucking minutes. WHY???????????? Rewarded myself with some scrolling after HIIT. FUCK. 11:06PM. I’m just psyching myself up again. What is stopping me? Fear? Fear that I’ll have no idea what to do again? But obviously how are you going to do it if you don’t know how to do it? You have to start NOW. It’s 11:11PM. BYE. I had this idea that I’ll just do an autoethnography if I manage to get zero response to me asking for people to answer my survey or even Zoom interviews. I mean, I have buttloads of zettels to go through and maybe they hold something I currently don’t have access to. I can find no reason else to not do this because I will basically admit that I got an “introject” of Mike who literally gave me the intuition to swipe right multiple times for about two days on my Tinder Pro subscription to find him. It’s so unlikely and yet it’s true, he was, indeed, on the app. I feel like this is the only way I’m going to make it happen. Asking women if they’ve ever been violent in response to what happened to them with their husband’s or boyfriend’s porn addiction? What would you have done differently? What was it you really wanted to happen? Why did you resort to such violence? Why did you think that would solve the problem? Well, I guess I thought I would get a clear response from Audrey besides all her “seen”s. Instead, I got antipsychotic damage and even more turmoil. The belief that it would become true if I believed hard enough = ends up happening. WTF?????? I believed in my own crystallized intuition so strongly that it happened. No other way to come up with an explanation. So the protagonist in my fiction short story ends up violent, suffers consequences, then somehow ignites the makings of a “solution” working in her spirit. Just like Big Hero 6 and Abigail’s father being arrested in the end and his daughter ending up alive!!!! Well, I guess I can reward myself for starting. 15 minutes more. Getting those unstoppable hiccups just as I was about to download Analytical Autoethnography. FUCK. Notice how this only happens when I’m overstimulated and extremely high on dopamine because of armodafinil. Some part of me wants to rest now that I’ve done 30 minutes of work. I’ll pick up tomorrow because I finally have direction. But I’m just scared I’ll miss my window again. It’s currently 11:40PM. I have 7 days or so to make a miracle. FUCK. Just literally re-read my lit review and how much better I could be if I had a mission or a purpose. It all aligned everything into place. I was working with an intuition of some kind that’s the product of a mosaic I feel like I can no longer replicate. So the solution is: stop treating it like intuition is the only way. STOP THINKING YOU HAVE TO BE GOOD AT IT. JUST FUCKING DO IT BECAUSE THAT IS WHAT EDITING IS FOR????? It’s so unfortunate because all my skills are ad hoc, like I literally don’t and can’t generalize. I come up with something new and I never replicate things. It is always being deleted somehow and never moved to my basal ganglia. WTF AND WHY??????? Am I just supremely unlucky that I find myself staring at blankness these days? I can’t stop hiccupping. Gonna turn in and drink Glycine. FUCK.