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Cake day: March 1st, 2024

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  • They’re fine now, as people, but I don’t hold a lot of trust in them and I don’t tell them much about my interests.

    To modify the Miranda rights quote, “anything you say, do, or express interest in can and will be used against you”. Anything i talked about or enjoyed in my childhood was poked fun at by my dad to the point i stopped enjoying it and stopped talking to them about my likes/dislikes, and my mom can’t/couldn’t keep a secret for shit.

    Dad also had zero understanding of personal space or privacy, and would just barge in my bedroom at any time (through a locked door, one of those doorknobs that can be unlocked with a flathead or a coin).

    Stopped invading my personal space after i got big enough and held him in an elbow lock in a public space once; he kept putting his hand in my face and i eventually slapped it away, he got pissed and tried to get us to leave and grabbed my arm.

    We get along mostly fine as adults after i moved out, he recognizes he fucked up a lot, but i don’t consider it a close relationship.








  • Ray Bradbury also has a good array of short stories, at least one or two of which are sort of precursors to Fahrenheit 451

    Edit: its been too long since i read Fahrenheit 451… just started (and finished) re-reading it for the second time in my life, in the last couple hours. i still think it might be one of the more likely dystopias that await us.

    It feels appropriate, somehow, that my first read through was a pirated PDF copy of it from some random corner of the internet.

    I’m left feeling oddly… hopeful. Like I’ve been reminded of a part of being human that is good.