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Nightly rants,
We're all trapped even by this very act
Could I have handwritten this? Nah, that is feminine.
…To stare at this world.
Appropriately titled...

"We're Stuck"

God, this is so boring. To sit and stare and type type type as work. Lemme tell you, I hate rich brats, though I am a brat myself. I will not go on talking about them anymore. Sympathizing their rich brat tales. Her depression! Yeah, she had to be on this drug after that drug. All the middle class problems…you ought not talk about them. Ooh, it makes me mad. I don't even want to blame middle class if this is what it sounds like. Too many people have made the mistake of blaming middle class and by making that mistake, the middle class starting thinking that they were rich, when in fact, they were declining and getting poorer. Then they really started distinguishing from the 'poor' and how were you supposed to know? Well, never mind my crude politics. I babble because I feel some kind of a duty. Actually, I feel pulled to it.

To backtrack about that girl…we pay so much attention to those little things. She was this and that and you know they wouldn't have cared if she looked different, if she looked like something else, someone else, I mean. If she dressed like everyone else, which she actually did…but if she dressed like the 'average' folks, no one would have cared. So much for clothes, I guess they're not the main point. I'm not heated here either. Lemme get that straight at least. It's just that I like to ramble about day to day things. I wanna whine like I matter a whole lot. I wanna talk about anything. Do whatever. I dunno. Did that sound cliché enough for you? Oh, but I do digress. I learned to say that too.

So, start another topic. Okay, this one is probably going to be another hate list type of thing. I wouldn't go as far as calling it hate, but it's easy. Hey, we want comfort in America, you know. Hmm, this reminds me all too much of the time I was in high school and doing a lame ol' zine called "Flipout!" that nobody cared about, but I. I guess that is all that is important though, or is it? Anyway, this zine thing turned out less of a zine, but more of a 'I hate this and that.' Well, what else is a zine supposed to be anyway? A set of record reviews and concert reviews? Those zines are boring and really, I need to give myself more credit. I wrote article after article and no one made me do them. I even tried to propose solutions and as wacky as they were, I thought I was creating some sort of revolution or something. I thought people would follow it. At least in a very local, local level. It was never anything else, but hey, that was the whole deal with zines. That's what you were supposed to expect and that's what I loved about 'em. And so, there goes another story…

But there is that real sad side of me, I must say. I'm all wrapped up in this shallow world, and maybe it's not shallow, maybe it's art as they call it. I'm so wrapped up in images. I mean, moving picture images. So call me a couch potato all you want, but at least I could say, I have good taste. I boast way too much though. That's partly disease I think, but anyhow, it is the taste that counts. Sometimes I take it way too seriously; the pictures, I mean. I hear when you take things seriously or love something so much, you wanna be alone with it or engage on it on your spare time, which is what happened with me and my television. I wanted to hoard those images all on my own. Yes, I did.

I don't wanna force words out, but I do want to talk about this thing that goes with what I've been saying. It's that thing about privacy, being alone, etc. Sometimes, I hardly ever get time to myself and I choke up. It makes me nervous and I can't do anything I want to because I'm never alone. Then there are times when I feel totally isolated. Actually, I think I feel a combination of entrapment and isolation all at the same time. It's not hard to feel that way. It just is.

Probably none of this is all too interesting…I tend to talk this way. I do believe that I expect the worst because I've been getting the worst all the time. Yes, I've been getting the worst and it's time for me to take some action.

And that isolation I've been talking about…I don't think I can control it. You can talk about it so easily like something's bound to change within time, but when you're there, it hits you. Nothing will really change. 'The enemy is you' kind of thing…perhaps.

But I don't think I'm all that pessimistic either. Sometimes, I just wanna find things. I just wanna find things in extreme excess and take it all in. I want it all, but I never say it. I give a hint so as not to be disappointed had I been too overt. I guess I don't wanna give anything away and why should I? You've gotta work up to it sometimes and once it happens---that thing you've been waiting for---it really happens. It's that little thing that feels like magic.

Everybody has a double, well I shouldn't say double, nor binary---that would be crime---but multi-faceted personality of some sorts. I really hope no one overlooks me, but we're all human and I do that way too much myself.

So about isolation again…someone once told me that I isolate myself, which was a wonderful compliment. But I really don't wanna believe that sometimes and the more I hear certain, very certain things, I have a hard time believing everything can be that sweet. I can't quite believe I am the master of my destiny or that I am what I make myself…we know these are lies. I am about to get political again, but I won't go that far, though they remain lies and propaganda! There I go again, right?

As much as I would like to have faith, and as much as I would like to say that I myself am the master of my own fate, I am not. That was hard for me to learn. Eh, no one even taught me that till I got older…I guess in the political sense. I am not one to go on blaming everything and everyone else for my conditions, but lets face it, I just don't fit and I don't wanna end it this way, but I am getting much, much too tired. So tired, I may as well forget how to spell a few words. My thoughts are getting hazy and I feel a bit bug-eyed. I don't even know what I am looking at anymore. I might as well live in a cubicle because all I'd need in order to survive could be so compact.

Masculinity, technology, patriarchy, and I'm talking about it as it is in America…though someone did say once, 'if you don't like it here, why don't you go to Yemen,' but lets leave that out for now. I feel like I've been taken over.

I'm so fixed on these letters, I feel like I haven't lived life. Be full, be brave. I've gotta get out of these letters, this world full of letters and microchips and screens. In this world my eyes dry out so fast it blinds me. Gotta do something worthwhile though I've never tried it before. Must get out of this world, I suppose.

-STUPOR

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