Egad, what a joyous day it is to have eyeballs on the Internet. I make Things and contend with Ailments. Welcome to chaos. Hehe.
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Well, I had therapy yesterday…
this session actually felt productive. I’ve been wondering for a long ass time why I write the way that I do. It feels like I’m possessed much of the time. Once I start on a project, I find it very difficult to stop, and if I’m not working on a project, even if there is…
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like an inkblot
I attended St John’s College in Annapolis, MD for my freshman year of college. My dad died at the beginning of second semester. I was a young eighteen, already struggling deeply with depression. I didn’t think I would live to see my eighteenth year, and losing him fucking gutted me. I spent the remainder of…
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on being mostly nocturnal…
nighttime is really the only time I get to myself these days. This post was first published on my Substack. Hello, everyone. I want to preface this by saying that I have absolutely no fucking clue where this is going. I started a draft of this post in the Substack app, but the links were…
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mk interviewed me for its blog Debate Me Bro!
We talked about my zine Field Notes From a Colder Time, neuroqueer zine culture, and how it relates to anarchist organizing praxis as a whole. I really enjoyed this conversation! Read it in full here. -Allēna
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mk interviewed me for its blog Debate Me Bro!
We talked about my zine Field Notes From a Colder Time, neuroqueer zine culture, and how it relates to anarchist organizing praxis as a whole. I really enjoyed this conversation! Read it in full here. -Allēna
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mk interviewed me for its blog Debate Me Bro!
We talked about my zine Field Notes From a Colder Time, neuroqueer zine culture, and how it relates to anarchist organizing praxis as a whole. I really enjoyed this conversation! Read it in full here. -Allēna
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Out in the county with Emerson. We’re picking up…. blankets????
Wish us luck, lol! I’m running on about 4 hours of sleep and no food.. -Allēna
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I wrote this at the jazz open mic last night.
I see, I hear, I learn, I bend myself in pretzel knots and unfold my mind longhand I traded the fire and brandy autumn leaves for you and instead we squeeze every dropof juice we can from this town with gusto and verve. I might die tomorrow as my hand cramps andmy heart races in…
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I didn’t mean to get overthrown…
-Allēna