self diagnose // just an update

I haven't been very good about writing lately. I mean, I never am, but this is special. Because during the past week or so I have actually been thinking. It's like I'm midways, suspended in gravity, along a deep pit. I was looking down, but now I am looking up. I can see some stars, whereas before I could only see more brown.

I have ideas, ideas about films that will probably never be made, ideas about how to decorate my room, ideas about the appropriate way to trick a girl into kissing you. Setting: She has curly hair and doesn't want to go too fast, and you're okay with that. For the first time in ever.

via this person
My birthday is next weekend. Saturday. It will be my first birthday in Uruguay in five years. No themed parties, no summer birthday any more. I turn 24, which is a blah age. I met a guy the other day and I had a really funny conversation of which I was the star. I like when people think I'm funny. He couldn't believe he was talking to a pretty girl who was funny. I laughed it off, but it's pretty sad. The people in this country need to chill the fuck out. Maybe the summer will bring shorter skirts and some more laughter.

I got bad news the other day from the Italian embassy about my citizenship. It's apparently one year behind. And if I want to apply for my masters in Sweden and not pay for it, I need my citizenship. For other things too, like, moving the fuck out once the fall here starts again and I can go be with my J and be able to work in Paris. I realize I just can't be without her. You know those people who move places for love? Well, I want to do the same, but for friendwife love. And the italians are cramping my fucking swag.

Speaking of J and I, we went to Buenos Aires when she was here. It was very cold. She met A who is a very good friend of mine and I just knew they would get along and talk about arty shit I have no clue about. Although me and J fought A about how good Buffy was because A doesn't like it, which I think is a travesty, such a great post-modern show, not being appreciated by one of the most intelligent people I know. Oh well.

J and I did very touristy shit but it was great. Being around her is like a human SSRI inhibitor. I just feel fucking happy. I'm lucky my soulmate is not someone I have sex with, because that fucks shit up. We are forever.
We looked at the pretty colored buildings and danced until sunrise and had lols as we missed out boat coming back to Montevideo. Buenos Aires is a weird city for me. I don't really like it, but, goddddammmmn is it much much bigger than here... There are things TO DO! I mean, if all else fails, I guess I could move there, getting a job there will probably be not hard.

i took this one

But I'll try New York before I try Buenos Aires. Its size scares me. And there are no black people there, which is unacceptable.
Holy shit this post has been about nothing. Here's something I thought about when I was looking down at the mud. Imagine the robot voice from Fitter Happier saying these things out loud.


non-voluntarily anorexic
fictionally paranoid, high functioning virtual paranoid
bipolar with a twist of anxiety
selective attention deficit
party junkie
panic self doubt
chimeric body issues
oedipally complexed woman
bicultural depression; the open veins of pachá new york
chaotically simple minded
unextraordinarily intelligent
lazy fuck

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