July 31, 2021 ( - ) / 8:30 p.m. / I went to my family’s graveyard on my father’s side and spoke with my grandmother — figuratively, of course, because I know she’s dead — and I told her that I finally understand what she was going through.

She was bipolar, you see. Type 1 or 2? I don’t know. As a kid, she used to read obituaries to me. Picture it: me as a child, sitting at her kitchen table, and her telling me that such-n-such died. But I was her favorite grandchild. K_F and D_F were off in Virginia, and R_B hadn’t been born yet (they are all my first cousins). Because of this, I received all the attention from her.

I remember one summer day, when my grandmother was angry at the world, she said to me, “Maybe I should just go ahead and die,” and hearing this made me cry.

She apologized after realizing a five year old didn’t need to hear this.

Anyway, when I was done speaking with her, I walked around and talked to myself about the hypocrisy of white liberalism. As a self-proclaimed liberal who is white, I have a burning hatred for white liberals. Why? Because they are not sincere. They love to act like they don’t have implicit biases ingrained into their character, and they love to believe they’ve never said or done anything remotely problematic. They never learn or had to learn, you see. They are pure, like unicorns who magically popped out of Hillaryland. Or just like A_K that I used to work with at the university, who acted like a beacon by birth (and no, I will not add them on Facebook).

My question to said whites: Why do you bullshit us? The answer is simple: it’s all Machiavellian.

Trust me, I went to college with a lot of woke whites, and their only motivation is power. I’m not judging all of them, because I believe there are a lot of white liberals like myself who have come to terms with the way they were raised, and the corruption of said foundation. But these woke whites only care about an image, a hashtag, a trendy stance. They would never, ever, ever capitulate to the notion of being a byproduct of a prejudiced system, because that would mean disrupting their egos; and if they do admit to it, it’s only because they know the script. Woke whites are power hungry for approval and to advance forward; they only care about being that good white person.

Is there truth in what I’m saying? Maybe. Perhaps. Probably. But here is the point of my tangent: this idea was raging through me, fast and hard as a freight train. Suddenly, I stopped and realized I was rambling to myself.

And then the fear of the cybersphere entered my skull, and how it will pick us apart like ants. I couldn’t stop thinking about this Skynet-like god taking over. Analyzing us. Judging us. And I thought, Who will be honest when it downloads us? Who will confess? Who will be true? Thinking about this sent my mind into a flurry.

Later, as I was walking in the beauty store — because hair color is an obsession of mine; medium blonde, my new August shade — I wondered about the cameras. Can this computer see us now? Is it watching? Are others watching? A salesperson approached me and I immediately said, "I’mgoodthanks" — because I didn’t want her to see me spiraling within. Sometimes people can see your instability, even if you look fine.

I realized then I needed to go and cook for my grandmother (my living grandmother). Cooking calms me. Cooking and grocery shopping. I never shop without my headphones on. I constantly listen to audiobooks and podcasts to keep my mind from going uzumaki. I also do it because I don’t like the feeling of eyes on me, people thinking about me. People looking at my mask. You know, stupid Trumptacular rednecks on a George-Liquor high who think I’m 'Murican! I don’t need no got’damn mask. But you know, if (if) this super-computer theory of mine comes to fruition, they will happily stand before it and declare their beliefs. That’s the one good thing about a Trumpet: they are not snakes. Sure, they speak venom, but they are bulls and gorillas through and through. You know their next moves. White liberals, on the other hand


I’m sorry. I had to stop and take a walk through my grandmother’s apartment hallway. I had to clear my head.

Anyway, it was nice cooking potatoes and mac n' cheese. Grandma_J says I did well. The trick: add garlic and onion powder to the potatoes.

Song/Mood: (Sweet Dreams vaporwave mix)