there was one time at church as a child where the pastor was talking about miracles and i broke down crying and prayed that my dad wouldn’t need to wear glasses anymore
there’s something mundanely magical about this room. the beams of setting sun, filtered through leaves from the tree outside your window, illuminating the accumulated objects of your history that surround us.
dreamt i was having a philosophy convo with my extended family but my subconscious got annoyed they were wrong about everything so eventually it turned into everyone espousing varieties of positions i hold
me: “obviously marx talks about alienation of man from man in the 1844 manuscripts (that’s like the main place to check!), it’s one of the 4 canonical types he explicitly explores and it’s only a few pages long, you don’t even need to infer it from passages in capital where-”
also me: wtf is a copay
there really is no excuse for being as incompetent as i am at my job, besides that im clearly just a humanities girlie first and a 4fun programmer second
my goal in life is to be begrudgingly accepted at all the incelcore live shows as the fakest fakecel because i’m the only guy in the scene who can play the drums