Last night, I wasn’t going to drink, but I had one can of lemon soda and suddenly felt bubbly, and I wanted to keep going.
Since no shops were open, I ordered pizza and some drinks, then fell asleep.
I was woken by the doorbell and freaked out for a moment. Who’s knocking at the door? Uber. Nothing mysterious.

I watched a few clips online while eating. Everything started to feel boring. Everything looked like everything else, and so there was no point. Why are people so obsessed with how things look? Why are we brainwashed into thinking we need to worry about it?

I worry about it for a minute, cleanse my face, put on some makeup, and then feel bored again. 

Perhaps it’s because of the invention of the camera that people are so obsessed, Since they feel the image isn’t passing, no longer something temporal, 
they feel that we will be forever defined by how we look.

I read the comments under the videos and am astonished by how many people worship beauty. It’s almost like a religion. Maybe it is.  "To be loved, you have to reach perfection",  but what pleases the eye isn’t always worth loving. And any perfect flower withers, so why care? I want to feel beauty even in the moment of withering. We will all experience it. I want to embrace it without fear. But that’s just me. I stay away from the camera, and from the spotlight. 

I try to express my sexual desire, but it doesn’t work, it’s always stolen.
My desire becomes part of someone else’s fantasy, and I hate that feeling.
I want my desire to be mine, without them forcing it onto me. Shut the fuck up and listen to what I want. And, I don't want you to lie an pretend that you want my story, because if you did, you will not have to say it. Don’t you have the patience?
Pay attention to who you’re talking to. But that doesn’t happen.

And then the eros is gone. Use your fucking imagination, have you got no senses? 

I log online and see posts from a lonely man lamenting that he expects no one will ever love him, and therefore he feels suicidal. I guess that’s a common fear we all share. But instead of fearing never being loved, perhaps what we need to learn is  to love. And if we master it, a soul would be saved.