i'm sitting on a draft. i'm sitting on a few drafts, actually. i'm sitting on eleven whole years of unpublished writing, & then years of writing i did publish, & then deleted.

i love odd numbers. but 11 just feels awkward. too skinny. 10 or 12 seems better, i think. 12 is the number of years in one chinese zodiac cycle. 11 feels... wrong.

if you saw my update about how i was going to publish CRYING ABOUT CAPITALISM [-1.0/2.0] on february 11th, 2023, exactly one year after i wrote it...

well, i haven't yet.

bc i don't feel ready.

& that's scary & sad for me to say out loud.

i already feel helpless, so helpless. it is helpless to be a disabled human being with no family or friends. it never occurred to me until recently — since i have been living in a different reality, in a dream of a better world inside my head, since 1993 — that capitalism-enabled people don't realize that poor disabled people are basically floundering by themselves.

i don't have a partner. that's sad. every other disabled human i know has a partner or family. no, that's not all of them.

there is basically nobody in person to help me.

the people in the worst situations are dying on the streets. i am not in the worst situation possible, but that doesn't make me feel better, bc it needn't.

capitalism-enabled "communists" thinking that ableism doesn't matter is them trusting in the very system that they purport to want to abolish. trusting that that system takes care of us disabled people.

it doesn't.

i feel helpless bc i still can't stick to a posting schedule. i'm sad. i feel broken inside. my life has never been stable, & the very people who claim to care about these issues, are mean to me for the results of poverty: me being traumatized.

i'm sitting on a draft. but the line i keep thinking about the most is this:

after somebody kills themself,
their loved ones always say:

"WE SHOULD HAVE
SEEN THE SIGNS."

I CARRY MY SIGN
WITH ME
EVERYWHERE.

IT DOESN'T MAKE
ANYBODY
TREAT ME
ANY BETTER.

This isn't a suicide note. Although I deeply wish I could make art about suicide notes, and I probably will one day. I talked to C, who's in law school, about the legality of writing about suicide online. There's nothing illegal about it. I talked to [redacted], who works for a nonprofit, by & for Mad people.

There's nothing illegal about talking about suicide.

*unless you're a psychiatrist, in very specific circumstances

i reposted mariela's article summarizing suicidism on a cursèd social media thing [i.e. website] today. prettier slides.

Read it on the web instead, it's way better here.

{ there's also a little extra commentary in the web version, from me }

here's another start of a draft:

i feel like everything i've internalized on what it supposedly means to "heal" is about changing myself towards acting more neuro-normative/neuro-conformist.

forced sanity.

i think it's difficult bc [ unfinished ]

i find it funny when so-called "communists" don't care about somebody who's suffering. i guess that's the core of genuine, all-usameriKKKan white supremacist capitalist individualism, for ya.