Mental Health

Random word generator says go out and juggle. Insists by university. I don't wanna. The damn app makes me feel good about myself. Professional. Talented. It was fucking talking me up!

So, I go. It's a real nice campus, ASU. Mostly empty because it's Sunday. But I'm looking for a spot and I see a gaggle of people. Graduates, maybe, but there were a ton of girls in white dresses that went maybe two inches below their vagina. And I don't stare at the eighty pairs of barely legal legs, but I see them, I panic, I look away, but in the process, my attention coordination snapped to some flesh. She saw. She said, "Hiiii!" Cruelly. Mockingly. Now I'm out of whack. I'm dysregulated. Emotions surge. I can't think straight. My mind has been taken over.

NOTHING SEXUAL! Fucking David's dick is small in the sculpture because he is about to face Goliath. He is afraid. I am afraid of young people, because while I have done the work to not stare or even think of that shit unless I'm alone by myself without visual aid (except the occasional transgender mommies), because I know how much it ruled me, my sexuality.

I don't want to be an animal. I have worked hard so I do not have to worry about myself, but instead I have this impediment in my life, where I cannot function because a sudden fucking babe of my preferences will completely destabilize me in anxiety and fear.

Women as a whole have been associated with disease n death because my mother had AIDS. It's primordial in my consciousness, the fear of being attracted to a youthful feminine form. I'm not ashamed anymore, because I have demöbiated the sin within me so the fire of pursuit and intention and attachment to desire is gone.

But I am afraid, as when I was biking back, shell-shocked and eyes locked as forward as possible, I passed a couple in the crosswalk. She said, "ew," in regards to seeing my bright pink tanktop, to which he responded, "yea, he's a pedophile." And that took me out of it. Made me mad. Hurt. Judged. No one cares I'm not a bad person. I might be killed, randomly, for what I think about when I jack off. I breathe. And I'm ok. Mind is a flurry. Can't function.

Writing is easy; it better be how much I've busted my balls! But I can't function in society. I know I will be with everybody for eternity, and I genuinely care about every being, even if I lose my shit sometimes, and sometimes people need to hear something, but I have literally negative desire to do anything regretful.

Those college kids were still friggin' kids; I have to forgive the girl for her remark and shade, because she knows not what she does. And that is why I want to help the young men who likewise do not know what they do, who might be in the process of ruining their lives. I saw a mural on the way there, "Education is not illegal." Well, all I want to do is educate, make something of myself helping people. And I'm scared out of my mind to juggle at a college campus.