fractal

fuck.

I keep sitting down to update here, and I'll type a few lines and hit delete. It's all too personal, all too historical, all too fucking self righteous boring crap. It would irritate me to write it, and it would irritate me even more that people actually read it. What does anyone even get out of the whole public personal journal? Is it a voyeuristic thing?

I don't go outside much anymore. It's too fucking hot and too crowded everywhere. It's disgusting. This city is an empire built on broken dreams, high end retail on the ground floor of tenements, everyone scatters around trying to impress everyone else.

Here's a little bit more for the voyeurs.

I'm filled with disgust. It's not even hate. It's contempt. It's this vile infestation of people, too many of them in too small an area, all of their putrid smells and sounds, the vile eyes wandering over your body filled with lust or rage or just nothing at all, horrid beasts trying to figure out if they want to fuck you or if they want to know where you got your shoes. It leaves a grimy film on your skin.

I looked at old photos a few nights ago, they were like images out of some stereotype movie. I miss that.