Jesus god let this year be over. In another one of her tricks, 2023 is having me post this a second time. This is a replica, a recreation of my original digital utterance. It is the shape of an impulse with none of the initial life left in it. It is theater. If you are happening upon this post for the first time, know that even if it speaks to you, there was a better version you can never recover from the waste bin of history. Like Pina Bausch or Madame Tussauds. The shame, the embarrassment, the humiliation is humbling to say the least. Miss Gram, I am disappointed in you but mostly I am disappointed in myself. 2023 you have drained me—and not in a sexual way. Sort of like the first picture where everyone’s vibing and I’m squinting into the sun, mid throttle. 2024 please come correct queen. Thank you to everyone who engages with my content and everyone who provides me content with which to engage. Your lives look really amazing. I hope when we meet IRL that we recognize eachother.