i said…earlier in the movie we paused it, via me saying something about how the cops were being fucked up to mickey and dickey, like it was fucked up that the cops didn’t get in trouble for breaking mickey’s hand. then that lead to a conversation about government and anarchy. i said ‘it’s all just always the same thing, people are just always afraid of each other.’ ex-boyfriend seemed to agree and said things about jesus and believing jesus was saying nice things and he was crying a little. i agreed with everything he was saying. i kissed his face and he said ‘don’t do that because…’ i said ‘i’m doing it because i want to do it, not because i think you’re trying to get me to do it.’

referenced jesus in argument just now. like. i said something really stupid. i don’t know much about jesus. i said ‘jesus would be like: love people, people will never think the same things, it’s okay, don’t hurt each other, you’re all still people, you all ended up in bodies one day, the best thing to do is be nice to each other and not make each other feel bad.’ forget what he said, i don’t think i gave him a chance to respond. went to kitchen for water, then to our room to get a bigger bottle, which he seemed ready to volunteer. i said ‘what you’re saying is fucked up, like, you think one person’s experience of life or art or whatever is inherently better than another person’s, i think that’s so fucked up, that’s like, the same line of thinking as nazis or whatever.’ something on his phone was making a noise. collected computer cord to take with me to the living room. he said ‘where are you going?’ seemed like if i said i was going home he would’ve gotten upset the way he does when i’ve driven back to baltimore after drinking and arguments.

heard him hovering by living room door. i locked it. he said ‘oh, okay.’ i’m not mad at him. this idea he has just seems shitty, has always seemed shitty…we argue about ‘my writing’ and this…related things…how i’m producing shitty things…seems so…goddamnit. it makes me like. i’m. wish i could…make something come out of me. shit a giant shit or shit bullets out my ass into nothing.

want to make something clear.

i don’t give a fuck if you think there is good or bad art.

i give a MAJOR FUCK if you think other people are more entitled to make art, or that more people deserve to exist than others.

i’m crying right now…thinking…of people…no, i’m not crying. almost. i almost did. YOU HONESTLY THINK ONE PERSON HAS MORE OF A RIGHT TO MAKE SOMETHING, AN ART PRODUCT, FOR ENTERTAINMENT, THAT TELLS THE WORLD WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO BE THEM, THAN ANYONE ELSE?!?!

HONESTLY????

CAN ANYONE HONESTLY…