[unintelligible screaming throughout]
Am I doing this right? My head is filled with much thought. I'm really anxious about helping in that dinner party probably because I'll blow it and be awkward. I guess I'll be fine even in the worst case actually.
Idiot. You actually don't care if it screws up. Now you're being hard on yourself. But yes you can gently think that your friendship with N would recover from that. My random upper trap muscle still hurts. I wonder if I should go for a run. The pain should subside soon enough. Side sleeping might be the end of me. I phrased that dramatically because I can. It's not that bad really. I'm so unfiltered. I can feel no filter. Yet it's unbelievably boring. I was hoping for more.
Peace to Train's lipstick stained left frontal lobe as Thebe Kgositsile(?) didn't say or surmise, good for him. Peace to every illusory border of reality. I think G is needlessly churning a lot for no reason. I hear barbets and some type of honkers in the proximity. The honkers remind me of being shouted at. I remember that L shouted at me. May they not have to shout. Like slopcones??
I thought it dishonourable to want to leave if it was my responsibility to Voice (Hirschmann trilemma) and maybe I did not Voice appropriately. I can see my ego trying to manufacture grievances on a spotless mind. I see it now. It's gone now. There's no clear causality to these thoughts and thought to action. It's endless generation, I'm teaching the generator to generate. I have been chill about no one matching my energy (idc if unfair). It's clear from everything so far that I love myself. Seems about right only.
I'm thinking of black cadillacs even though there's none here. The word black cadillac has a lackadaisical quality to it. I think I know what leadership is. It's the art of getting a collective to achieve something. I play too soft because I treat people as fragile, emotional beings with egos to manage. See the problem? I 'play'. I should not be 'playing'. I think some realness will help. I'm conscious of the default societal hierarchy. Like a pagliacci who knows the village will laugh from the clownshow unasked, must one lead knowing everyone will want to be led.
I must tell H why I'm desperate. I had a dream (nightmare) today. I am faffing about in the bus stop as agreed before with F. But to F's annoyance I remembered I had to brush my teeth. So I ran back and brushed my teeth against a groovy diagetic soundtrack. I think E hates me. This is landmark. I didn't know how it would be like to have someone hate my guts. I have no anxiety or nervousness about my guts being hated. I expect this to be difficult though.
Metatime, boo, I know. And yes, self-aware boo, not an actual internal contraction type of boo that's a critic mode thing. But I'm glad I haven't given up this habit yet considering I haven't stuck with stuff like this all that well. I'm thinking of how to optimise commute timings. Can't just be literally cutting corners. Okay I'm running late. Sorry Julia, going to cut this short.