biggiecheezits

[biggiecheezits]

Yk what sucks

some 400yo man who unironically wore a wig is leagues better than me at music

Like genuinely you can look at some of his simplest stuff and it blows mine out of the water all while looking like:

Like it's not even "oh he's better" NAW. He's on another fucking plane of existence with his music. Even if my imagination was directly translated to it's musical intentions on paper, Bach would prolly take a look and go "oh yeah I'll write a variation of it" and then we have a whole nother Johnny Cash "hurt" situation.

Because I genuinely cannot compare.

Have you ever seen those like 11yo art accounts where they suck but they're not self-aware enough for them to realize it and have no shame in doing so, and yet you can't call the art completly trash because after all it was done by a kid so you gotta grab a magnet and pin it to your fridge for a few weeks? Yea I'm that kid. I'm at the level where the adult goes "aww wow soo sweet" because they know it's the best my stupid child brain can do

And you know what, fine. I'm not a professional musician and will never be one. But music IS something I love, and it's hard to love when you're clutching at the paper mache statue instead of the one made of roman marble.

MAYBE, just maybe, I want something that I can be proud of myself about, that I can look and be happy, but I'm not sure if I'm too incompetitent or too hard on myself to be blind to this shit.

Speaking of shit, that's all the BS coming out of my mouth while I hardly stay awake. idek where I was going with this. No hard feelings Bachy boy. Go listen to https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HB8-w5CvMls it goes hard af

[biggiecheezits]

no creative poetry today.

Just sit with me for awhile? I don't care if you're on a toilet or bed or car seat or whatever.

....

.....

There's so much i can say, i can complain, or i could infodump, or we can laugh at some tik toks, talk about the news, or...

But that's not important.

The only thing important to me is that together, we won't be alone for a few minutes.

I won't be alone for a few minutes.

...

...

...

One-way talking isn't the best, right? I can't hear you respond.

So instead, let's share a two-way silence together.

...

...

[biggiecheezits]

Ethan had the music so loud, he could hardly tell that he was speeding on the highway. Normally, his car speakers played podcasts, but accompanying his drive today was a duet--a singer singing of love, and a bass voice straining far outside its comfortable range to join it.

He looked upward. Nineteen years he had lived, and still he couldn't fully convince himself that the brilliant blue sky he saw, with fleets of clouds sailing across, was neither a painting nor hologram. He made a great effort to engrain this sight in his mind. He was committed that this day would be remembered. That his present self would not fade from memory.

That he would always be able to come back and see this heaven.

It dawned on him that he would not always see a sky like this. His hand gripped the steering wheel tighter. While his future was by no means known, he guessed that in a few years, if he looked up, he would only see the fluorescent lighting panels of an office building. His jaw clenched as he remembered his present days were already filled enough with that damned fluorescent lighting and those computer screens and all the monotonous work and that stupid--

A distant honk reminds him that his life is currently within the control of a steering wheel and two pedals. His singing reinvigorates as the thoughts of the past and future fade back into whispers. Two tears form at the corner of each eye. They completely reject their purpose of flowing and falling, resolute instead to remain fixed right where they are. Surely there was no need to hold them back. After all, there is no spectator, no passenger, no camera--just him, the music, the car, the road, and the sky. Still, those tears did not fall.

If you were to ask Ethan about transportation, he wouldn't hesitate to vent his hatred for driving. "It's inefficient!" he would assert. "It's harmful to our environment, and it stains our society!" His eyes tired after only an hour behind the wheel, and any drive home is filled with the utmost impatience.

And yet.

Today, Ethan wished that the road would extend for a lifetime.

[biggiecheezits]

You have to codemn war, but you have to support a side. You can't be a centrist, because that's indecisive, but you can't choose a side, because then you're a radical. You have to pity the innocent lives lost, but you can't dwell on them because you'll become a zionist genocider or a hamas terrorist. You have to be critical of one side, but not the side which you agree with, otherwise you'll be a sellout. You have to find the truth, but you have to find only *my* truth, because *MY* truth is right because it agrees with all the evidence *I* see and with the echo chamber created especially for *ME* by an algorithm.

The bombs are flying and the children are screaming and the bullets are piercing and the bodies are falling and the buildings are collapsing and the protests are growing and the people are arguing and the innocents are dying and the innocents are dying and the innocents are--

...

You know what? Why am I even trying to think? I should just stop all that funny buisness, pick a side, just spread hate and consume the echo chamber's content. That'll make me happy, right? I'll just hate and consume. Hate and consume. Hate and consume. Hate and Consume and Hate and Consume and Hate and Consume and Hate and Consume and Hate and Consume and

[biggiecheezits]

Daydreamer

I am a daydreamer. My mind loves to explore certain "what if"s. In my imagination, I could be the president, a superhero, a drug lord, a wizard, or anything else of the like. 

But one scenerio, or should i say genre of scenerio, seems to climb it's way to the top of my mind every time. Sometimes it'll take me to a hallway, or a sidewalk, or classroom, or room, but what is constant in all of these is the girl in front of me.

I am a daydreamer. But I can never get quite right the color of her brilliant eyes, the soothing voice that calms my heart, the shade of her glistening curly hair, the way her smile infects the disease of joy.

Even so, that never stops me from rendering my heart open to her. Sometimes I give a speech, other times I simply whisper those three sacred words. Sometimes she responds back with a thrilling answer, other times I'm left heartbroken.

I am a daydreamer. But now what's in front of me isn't a dream. Those thousands of scripts unite into one sad truth.

When i look at her with all the love I can muster, what's reciprocated is a wave. After only the shortest moment, I am out of her memory like a leaf caught in the wind. 

I am a daydreamer. But what I dream will always stay a dream. 

[biggiecheezits]

I hate the night sky

For I am enthralled by the shining of each star

Captivated by their beauty. 

Moved by this jewel, I feel no choice but to shine my flashlight in return.

But i know that light will never reach back. I will never be seen as a star.

And so each time I look up, I am assaulted by these glamorous lights. And so I have no choice but to hide in a cave instead, trying to forget about the wonderous light I could never shine as.

And yet, when the next night comes again, I will be the first to take in the twilight beauty once more.

[biggiecheezits]

oh yea if, for the very large audience following me, were wondering, she don't like me. Didn't confess, but like she never has gone out of her way to talk to. me like in thhe past month.

anywho, writing thhis. down for achrivial sake: didn't realize how much i hate myself, didn't realize how much ii miss my old friends and blame myself for tthem leaving. didn't realize how important the past was to me.

[biggiecheezits]

welp, I think I have a crush now.

A crush on my nextdoor neighbor.

I live in a apartment, and my space shares a wall with hers.

I'm really just confused. I shouldn't be going crazy over this girl so much and yet im thinking about her all the time.

When I see her she makes my head spin with how beautiful she is. When im in my room, I have to fight the urge to leave, knock on her door, and just tell her how I feel.

And I don't know if she even likes me. Of course she doesn't, it hasn't even been a month since we first met. But sometimes I text her and she doesn't respond for awhile. She invites me for some stuff, like she made lunch for me and some of her friends and we ate together.

I don't know. I'm clueless. All I can think is that I can't wait to see her smile and hear her voice and talk to her again.

[biggiecheezits]

hmmm... I think I cracked it.

I took a personality test. I've gotten the same result from it for years now. It goes like this:

"You must truly hate yourself. With the ability for deep self-analysis, it's so easy to find things to loathe about yourself."

now, oftentimes I don't agree with this statement. but today I realized the reason why: I place other's view of me above my own.

By default, I hate myself. It takes other people's validation to make me happy. Im extroverted because not a single good thought comes from myself; I need others to make me feel like more than human trash.

[biggiecheezits]

damn I could use a thick thighed muscle mommy latina rn

[biggiecheezits]

what will satisfy me. what will be enough.

[biggiecheezits]

Helllooooo my favorite corner of the internet! I should definitely be asleep by now but instead I decided that today was the day I feel shame about my social status.

The good thing about being unseen and uncared about is that you can say seemingly whatever you want. Why not? Who else will read it?

The bad thing about being unseen and uncared about is being unseen and uncared about.

If anyone for some godforsaken reason actually reads this, or sees my other posts, just know that this is me letting it all out. amy time i feel like this, I open the app and write.

[biggiecheezits]

look at me and say that you love me. I can't bear with any other outcome.

[biggiecheezits]

Im so desperate for attention.

I believe I'm a good, funny, talented person but my social value must be low since probably 3 people outside of my family give a singular damn about me.

I just want this feeling to go away.

[biggiecheezits]

time for some over sharing!!!

I was gonna leave a big paragraph here, but then I remembered the poem basically screams what I'm thinking. it's pretty obvious.

so just give me a little bit of attention.

[biggiecheezits]

Hey God,     What do you want me to do right now?     What do you want me to do tomorrow?     Where have you called me?     What have you called me to do?

    Is my God the God of late answers?     Is my God the God of "I'll get back to you later"?     What do you want me to do     As I wait        wait

wait                                   wait

       wait

wait                      wait For guidance?     What else is required of me?     What more do need I do?     When can I be shown?     When I have a clue     of what im doing.

walking              the                     winding           wavering road           that                is                 unending.                                         walking            the                        winding           wavering road                that                                     is                 unending. walking                  walking    walking.                     walking. walking.  walking.  walking. walking. walking. walking.  walking.  walking. walking. walking.      

[biggiecheezits]

conversations are just really accurate roleplay