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22:41, 25 Feb 2025
Some parts of my life have turned out like I had hoped they would when I was a kid. Like tonight, I'm just in from my writing class, sitting on my little couch, jacket still on me while the room heats up. I've the laptop open and I'm reading other people's writing, better than mine, while eating last night's homemade fudge from the greaseproof paper it was wrapped in. That's the good shit, you know? That's the stuff they really don't want you to have. Like that joy and connection and solidarity. If you find peace and all that then you won't go searching, if yer not searching, you're not buying. And then what use are you at all? To them? And I love that. I love to be no use to the billionaires. To sit here happy as Larry in my tiny flat with the electric heater and the single bed, to live so simply and so happily, to have nothing they can take except for the two middle fingers I will happily give them. Oh, it's a glorious thing to live a life of blissful resistance.