Still psychologically brittle from yesterday. I’ve lost count at the number of times today I’ve screamed at something at the top of my lungs.
The unsupported use case of Bix Frankonis’ disordered, surplus, mediocre midlife in St. Johns, Oregon.
No fear, no hate, no thoughtless bullshit, and no nazis.
Read the current manifesto. (And the followup.)
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Still psychologically brittle from yesterday. I’ve lost count at the number of times today I’ve screamed at something at the top of my lungs.