Classified II

Hi, my name is Jude McCoy.

I am rotting until I can die again.

Thank you.

That’s the game—

My functionality is rooted in suicide.

My true feeling in suicide and everything else is neurotic, anxious, depressed mania.

Get into the suicidal dirt of wanting to die.

Suicidal leased pay-to-play garden.

Manure.

Bone meal.

Blood meal.

Dirt.

Seeds.

My apartment is my greed shelter.

Ian Curtis.

Hunter S Thompson

Chet Baker

I can be a fake persona or avatar at work.

I can rot and basically be dead at home.

I cannot be a fake persona in public while not grinding.

However this might be the last vestige of my original self to go.

I would still be myself in private rotting.

Until that went as well.

Welp, I guess—

I am going through changes.

Staged, calculated calcifications of myself going away.

Watching myself actually die and turn into something else.

Is it a butterfly?

Is it a man?

Or is it stupid?

A little American rich girls painted toes and fingernails.

This is where we are now.

The point of complete estrangement, madness and success.

AA in the morning I guess.

&%*#(@*#&%*#@)*#$& *&%)#*@*#&$*#(@#$

I could literally publish my blog

“A troubled millennial.”

Any kind of porn actually helps me through the power of collaboration.

The bar was this way.

AA would be this way as well but the anonymous, ego slaying of depersonalised ghosts in a void makes them strange to me..

It would be a study.

Porn and alcohol are helpful in a very deep and relaxing way.

Is it then that I must make my life even more steep and difficult to manage by avoiding them.

A kind of self over-torture.

This seems to be true.

A self-denial of a good thing in order to focus on the cruelty of modern life.

This seems to be true.

Didn’t even do anything productive and got a Goldie heart.

Spent more than I could afford and avoided AA.

Still I am too good to be true.

In this stillness, the rotting, there must be great progress.

Fucking vulnerability tunnel syndrome.

I get rid of only fans

Now my life is perfect, clean and clear.

I have no problems.

But I do—

I have all of the same problems that I did before—

But somehow when I had the door open to vulnerability—

I did not feel presentable.

Now that I am not vulnerable—

I do not see any problems in my life.

I do not like being vulnerable..

ABSOLUTELY!

In fact the entirety of my life’s work, goal and mission has been to not be vulnerable.

I don’t want someone to be able to reach in and punch me.

I also don’t want someone to be able to reach in and hug me.

Responsibility has been the word of the day.

If I am cut off from responsibility—

Then vulnerability is the next word that comes to mind.

Without responsibility I feel vulnerable.

Then I am cut off from wisdom.

How modern.