Ramble On: Summer 2026 Edition

  Plums.  Hours spent agonizing over the promise of just one minute more.  Got Titans in my back pocket.  Everything in duck fat.  Funny thing about noncompliance and not succumbing to facial recognition, finger print, face-everywhere bullshit is that that technology is likely designed to work backwards. Meaning, if you suddenly don’t check some box as fast as it wants you to, you’re probably a bigger red flag than you would have been had you just obeyed to begin with.   I don’t have a menu of people to purchase. I barely have enough of an appetite for even just one these days.  Oliver Stone.  Butterscotch chips in oatmeal = 10/10  Bubble and squeak.  Gold paint.  Do you want to cry? Yes/No W.E.I.R.D. Science bias.  Six more months in solitary.  (Insert Bernoulli's Expected Utility)  Climbing fences and walls while wearing stilettos.  Platinum fortune cookies.  Pink frosting.  No.  No.  No....

Journals (Archive)

Please don't open us up for all the world to see.
She isn't yet ready for the way her heart would bleed.

We contain all of her memories,
those both joyous and filled with treachery.

Her capricious handwriting reflects her emotions,
devoted to writing about all her life's commotions.

In our pages, we have secrets --
a decade long archive of personal leaflets.

We are filled to the brim with paper ephemera,
from tickets to wrappers and even a smudge of mascara --
most of which now seems like it's from a different era.

And she's told us stories that no one else knows,
to this day, we're very proud of the way she grows.

She's been through a lot,
but so have we,
surviving moving and fires and anything that can be.

So please don't open us up for all the world to see.
She's not quite ready to spill the tea.

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