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WhyAmI
WhyAmI
111/TS/Behind You
“Why do I only write heartbroken in an empty apartment?” That’s such a stupid sentence. I’m trembling Sha pop king Bag in hand Didn’t ***** It was her birthday Kundle is ketamine Spundle is speed Bundle is blow Therefore Hundle Is Fundle In this piece I will, from the perspective of myself, cover topics: death, *** reconnection, and love. Recurring themes throughout this story are: ****** a couch, the NYC housing market, and Brown University. I’ve never done ****** don’t own a couch, am homeless, and never went to uni. All of these are one in the same. Let’s ******* go. The state of consent in California is 18. A minor under the age of 18 cannot consent to ****** *********** with any individual over the age of majority. There is no Romeo & Juliet clause. I dated when I was 17. I had never orgasmed prior to meeting her. She was 20 when we met. My mom was a hoarder. I never had much furniture growing up. I have a special sort of autism that makes me incapable of leaving my bed during the day. I can’t even remember what I do every day but I’m very happy. There was a pandemic three years ago and I had purchased an IKEA couch two weeks prior. One month later I would watch this girl cut her wrists on this couch and order her Ubers back to Trump Tower. This was a year after we broke up. I’m laying on that couch right now. Small world, right? Giancarlo DiTrapano liked the tragedy **** I wrote about this scenario because I was a 19 year old model. It’s been two years since his passing and I haven’t improved my writing one bit. Honor’s dating a bodyman now, but that’s another story. There’s a very loud owl outside of my bathroom window that’s giving me anxiety. The couch is actually the only piece of furniture left in this apartment. My roommate’s dad died three days ago, sudden heart attack. He was surfing in Palm Beach. The roommate had just accepted a job there, working as a project manager for a solar company, currently finishing up a masters in Renewable Energy or some **** at Columbia. Neither had any connection to Palm Beach whatsoever. New Year’s Eve, 2022: I wake up at H’s place in a delirium and this guy keeps feeding me OxyContin for my hangover. I ***** and go home. Great night. O was looking for a plug and he gave her chlamydia. I saved his life a week before he died. I think his funeral’s today. He went to Brown, majored in History. Big fan of American Affairs, very bright guy. Hopeless death drive. Minor heir, his father was an executive at the company that produced IMAX. Centimillionaire range. He was taking meetings with thiel-esque billionaires to discuss film finance stuff in the days leading up to his death. Could’ve been a useful ally, alas. May of last year, another guy died. Beautiful, strange, pathological. Another Brown alum, a former teacher at Exeter, having recently started a research post at a small hedge fund. My girlfriend turned 29 today and I think I’m legally allowed to call her that now. I wish she would say “I love you more” but she tells me it’s her way of retaining control. I think it’s charming. She’s a people-pleaser, more charismatic than I. She’s also a woman, with all of the folly that makes one so easy to love. Guy #2, death #1 was her first love. He was a friend of mine that had slept on this couch before. I’d met this girl in passing, her ****** past being my objects of envy and homoromantic intrusive thoughts and homoressentiment. More financially successful artists, heirs, social climbers, rockstars and all that. (I think she’s just a cool smart g uhh I irl. We haven’t had *** in two or three days because she just got her period. I’m so excited to **** her soon. It just feels right, you know what I mean, A.T.? We all love *** when we’re asked to write for an erotica zine. Side note: I have never orgasmed by ************ and this makes me feel disconnected from the typical male experience. A minor queerness, differentiation, stratification, isolation, in the same way that being a white-passing mixed race individual feels.) You can buy the same vape in Warsaw as in Tribeca as in Manila. There’s something going on. Factories out of Shenzen only charge $10k USD for a bulk order of 1,000, custom branding and all. That’s a small business right there: biopolitical control. I’ve been shaped by weird economic paradigms, familial trauma, history turning itself, and my own shortcomings. But above all else: I have been shaped by these dead guys, those whose Thanatos lived stronger than their Eros. Let them be a cautionary tale. Bundle is blow Spundle is speed Kundle is ketamine And hundle, hundle is fundle. But fundle is chemical warfare. And this couch? It’s very comfortable, my new bed until I leave it on the street in a couple of time, measured in whatever unit I choose. Maybe we’ll meet again someday. Who knows? Oh god. It’s so cold in here. Hi A.T, I’m writing this with you in mind. I’m losing my ******* mind. Two days on Xanax. Just two. That’s all it takes. I wasn’t even taking the big doses. .25 mg TWICE for MILD ANXIETY. (Upon dosing a fifth time after writing all of this, I realize I had taken it four times in the past week.) “Why do I only write heartbroken in an empty apartment?” That’s such a stupid sentence. I’m trembling Shaking Bag in hand Didn’t ***** It was her birthday Kundle is ketamine Spundle is speed Bundle is blow Therefore Hundle Is Fundle I was going to send you something I wrote in a similar mindset after failing to **** the girl that taught me how to **** You represent her. I really don’t like her accent. She was on the cover of “Purple” or whatever. She committed statutory **** I’m committing bad writing. James Goldstein walked her down the red carpet to the most recent Balmain show or whatever. 1. James Goldstein is in his 70s or 80s 2. She has less than 30k instagram followers 3. We dated when I was 17 and she was 20 or 21, being forgetful here for dramatic effect. In the state of California, a minor under the age of 18 cannot consent to ****** activity. There’s no Romeo & Juliet clause. 4. I would like her more if she were like nicer to me or something 5. RIP Lucas Foster, that guy changed my life Bro the real reason I’m writing this: I am having extreme difficulty finding a sublet right now. It’s 3:14 AM. I downloaded all of the apps. I sent messages to 9 potential sublets, all under $1900 in lower Manhattan. **** in, **** out. Trying so hard not to dose Xanax. Isn’t it all quite boring? My roommate was awesome, mellow guy. This sublet was a perfect deal. It came with the couch I tried to **** O on, on that night, the last night I felt compelled to “open notes app in an anxious mania”. I could recall a single line from that little note but that’d be beside the point: I’m not any better at writing than I was at 19. Obviously. I literally don’t write. Giancarlo DiTrapano of Tyrant Books read it, he said he’d publish a book of **** like that. RIP Giancarlo Hundle Is Fundle All of these things coalescence and my self-involvement brings it right back to where it is here in this moment: Why do I bring that up? “I kept telling her I loved her but really I just wanted my **** ****** - LF ****** makes you gay” - GF “Nothing will ever feel as good as opiates” - LF “I literally haven’t done ****** - DL “He gave me chlamydia” - OI “I’m not doing ibogaine, I’ve never done any psychedelics” -LF “Maybe he had a good reason for not doing psychedelics” -LH “Are you going to his funeral? I am” -CM “I should probably dose Kratom rn” -ME The ******* ripple a life can have. A lot of people, well… you can go to Warsaw and buy the same smoke vape you could get on MacDougal St. or in a Manila Jakarta wherever ASEAN head shop. My friend who brought this to my attention: RELAPSED RECENTLY. I still haven’t tried Hundle, but it sure seems quite Fundle. It’s time to stop taking Kratom, that’s a gateway drug. How is this porny? A, you asked me to write porny. It’s self-indulgent, it’s pretty crude, it’s not even fiction. It’s a diary entry. I lose my train of thought and the only overarching themes I bring back are death and entwinement. But isn’t that what life is all about? Death And Entwinement Hundle Kundle Spundle Dundle Mundle Pcpundle Eundle They’re all quite fundle. Hold up I’m asking GPT-4 to improve this Nah Sike my phone died I’m not going to do that It gave me “Oh, the chill” with an accompanying content policy warning So to restart: Oh, the chill A wanton owl screeches above me A poorly trained mind aches with resentment This is literally ugh You’re gonna tell me to edit this **** YOU **** **** YOU **** The apartment is empty I’m finally tired And to all That do oppo research on me in the future I’m trying to keep my skeletons out of the closet
0
Feb 24
Feb 24, 2026 at 5:30 PM UTC
Hundle is Fundle
“Why do I only write heartbroken in an empty apartment?” That’s such a stupid sentence. I’m trembling Sha pop king Bag in hand Didn’t ***** It was her birthday Kundle is ketamine Spundle is speed Bundle is blow Therefore Hundle Is Fundle In this piece I will, from the perspective of myself, cover topics: death, *** reconnection, and love. Recurring themes throughout this story are: ****** a couch, the NYC housing market, and Brown University. I’ve never done ****** don’t own a couch, am homeless, and never went to uni. All of these are one in the same. Let’s ******* go. The state of consent in California is 18. A minor under the age of 18 cannot consent to ****** *********** with any individual over the age of majority. There is no Romeo & Juliet clause. I dated when I was 17. I had never orgasmed prior to meeting her. She was 20 when we met. My mom was a hoarder. I never had much furniture growing up. I have a special sort of autism that makes me incapable of leaving my bed during the day. I can’t even remember what I do every day but I’m very happy. There was a pandemic three years ago and I had purchased an IKEA couch two weeks prior. One month later I would watch this girl cut her wrists on this couch and order her Ubers back to Trump Tower. This was a year after we broke up. I’m laying on that couch right now. Small world, right? Giancarlo DiTrapano liked the tragedy **** I wrote about this scenario because I was a 19 year old model. It’s been two years since his passing and I haven’t improved my writing one bit. Honor’s dating a bodyman now, but that’s another story. There’s a very loud owl outside of my bathroom window that’s giving me anxiety. The couch is actually the only piece of furniture left in this apartment. My roommate’s dad died three days ago, sudden heart attack. He was surfing in Palm Beach. The roommate had just accepted a job there, working as a project manager for a solar company, currently finishing up a masters in Renewable Energy or some **** at Columbia. Neither had any connection to Palm Beach whatsoever. New Year’s Eve, 2022: I wake up at H’s place in a delirium and this guy keeps feeding me OxyContin for my hangover. I ***** and go home. Great night. O was looking for a plug and he gave her chlamydia. I saved his life a week before he died. I think his funeral’s today. He went to Brown, majored in History. Big fan of American Affairs, very bright guy. Hopeless death drive. Minor heir, his father was an executive at the company that produced IMAX. Centimillionaire range. He was taking meetings with thiel-esque billionaires to discuss film finance stuff in the days leading up to his death. Could’ve been a useful ally, alas. May of last year, another guy died. Beautiful, strange, pathological. Another Brown alum, a former teacher at Exeter, having recently started a research post at a small hedge fund. My girlfriend turned 29 today and I think I’m legally allowed to call her that now. I wish she would say “I love you more” but she tells me it’s her way of retaining control. I think it’s charming. She’s a people-pleaser, more charismatic than I. She’s also a woman, with all of the folly that makes one so easy to love. Guy #2, death #1 was her first love. He was a friend of mine that had slept on this couch before. I’d met this girl in passing, her ****** past being my objects of envy and homoromantic intrusive thoughts and homoressentiment. More financially successful artists, heirs, social climbers, rockstars and all that. (I think she’s just a cool smart g uhh I irl. We haven’t had *** in two or three days because she just got her period. I’m so excited to **** her soon. It just feels right, you know what I mean, A.T.? We all love *** when we’re asked to write for an erotica zine. Side note: I have never orgasmed by ************ and this makes me feel disconnected from the typical male experience. A minor queerness, differentiation, stratification, isolation, in the same way that being a white-passing mixed race individual feels.) You can buy the same vape in Warsaw as in Tribeca as in Manila. There’s something going on. Factories out of Shenzen only charge $10k USD for a bulk order of 1,000, custom branding and all. That’s a small business right there: biopolitical control. I’ve been shaped by weird economic paradigms, familial trauma, history turning itself, and my own shortcomings. But above all else: I have been shaped by these dead guys, those whose Thanatos lived stronger than their Eros. Let them be a cautionary tale. Bundle is blow Spundle is speed Kundle is ketamine And hundle, hundle is fundle. But fundle is chemical warfare. And this couch? It’s very comfortable, my new bed until I leave it on the street in a couple of time, measured in whatever unit I choose. Maybe we’ll meet again someday. Who knows? Oh god. It’s so cold in here. Hi A.T, I’m writing this with you in mind. I’m losing my ******* mind. Two days on Xanax. Just two. That’s all it takes. I wasn’t even taking the big doses. .25 mg TWICE for MILD ANXIETY. (Upon dosing a fifth time after writing all of this, I realize I had taken it four times in the past week.) “Why do I only write heartbroken in an empty apartment?” That’s such a stupid sentence. I’m trembling Shaking Bag in hand Didn’t ***** It was her birthday Kundle is ketamine Spundle is speed Bundle is blow Therefore Hundle Is Fundle I was going to send you something I wrote in a similar mindset after failing to **** the girl that taught me how to **** You represent her. I really don’t like her accent. She was on the cover of “Purple” or whatever. She committed statutory **** I’m committing bad writing. James Goldstein walked her down the red carpet to the most recent Balmain show or whatever. 1. James Goldstein is in his 70s or 80s 2. She has less than 30k instagram followers 3. We dated when I was 17 and she was 20 or 21, being forgetful here for dramatic effect. In the state of California, a minor under the age of 18 cannot consent to ****** activity. There’s no Romeo & Juliet clause. 4. I would like her more if she were like nicer to me or something 5. RIP Lucas Foster, that guy changed my life Bro the real reason I’m writing this: I am having extreme difficulty finding a sublet right now. It’s 3:14 AM. I downloaded all of the apps. I sent messages to 9 potential sublets, all under $1900 in lower Manhattan. **** in, **** out. Trying so hard not to dose Xanax. Isn’t it all quite boring? My roommate was awesome, mellow guy. This sublet was a perfect deal. It came with the couch I tried to **** O on, on that night, the last night I felt compelled to “open notes app in an anxious mania”. I could recall a single line from that little note but that’d be beside the point: I’m not any better at writing than I was at 19. Obviously. I literally don’t write. Giancarlo DiTrapano of Tyrant Books read it, he said he’d publish a book of **** like that. RIP Giancarlo Hundle Is Fundle All of these things coalescence and my self-involvement brings it right back to where it is here in this moment: Why do I bring that up? “I kept telling her I loved her but really I just wanted my **** ****** - LF ****** makes you gay” - GF “Nothing will ever feel as good as opiates” - LF “I literally haven’t done ****** - DL “He gave me chlamydia” - OI “I’m not doing ibogaine, I’ve never done any psychedelics” -LF “Maybe he had a good reason for not doing psychedelics” -LH “Are you going to his funeral? I am” -CM “I should probably dose Kratom rn” -ME The ******* ripple a life can have. A lot of people, well… you can go to Warsaw and buy the same smoke vape you could get on MacDougal St. or in a Manila Jakarta wherever ASEAN head shop. My friend who brought this to my attention: RELAPSED RECENTLY. I still haven’t tried Hundle, but it sure seems quite Fundle. It’s time to stop taking Kratom, that’s a gateway drug. How is this porny? A, you asked me to write porny. It’s self-indulgent, it’s pretty crude, it’s not even fiction. It’s a diary entry. I lose my train of thought and the only overarching themes I bring back are death and entwinement. But isn’t that what life is all about? Death And Entwinement Hundle Kundle Spundle Dundle Mundle Pcpundle Eundle They’re all quite fundle. Hold up I’m asking GPT-4 to improve this Nah Sike my phone died I’m not going to do that It gave me “Oh, the chill” with an accompanying content policy warning So to restart: Oh, the chill A wanton owl screeches above me A poorly trained mind aches with resentment This is literally ugh You’re gonna tell me to edit this **** YOU **** **** YOU **** The apartment is empty I’m finally tired And to all That do oppo research on me in the future I’m trying to keep my skeletons out of the closet
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