Melinda Gwin

It looks like the bird is dropping a fiery egg on the beach.

Really feeling Jeremiah 5 today.

YouTube video by optigandotcom Optiganally Yours - NONPARTISAN

My Luigi-pilling finished spreading through my system and finally, fin-a-lly cured the ailment it came to heal.

I'm nonpartisan.

That might actually convince me magick is real.

So, guns don't kill people, but words *do* kill people.

Fascinating.

Beginning to think I 'lack empathy' according to allistics because I care too much about others and their wellbeing.

Yes.

An ex of mine was very conservative and *loathed* anyone different.

In retrospect, I'm pretty sure he was autistic with extreme internalized ableism. Self-loathing is a straight and quick road to bigotry.

Finished a mod loadout.

Now, I get to see if the computer I just built can handle a (heavily-modded) game from 30 years ago.

Wish me luck!

Verdict's in. Charlie Kirk was killed in the Groyper War; the shooter is far-right, and law enforcement officers don't understand internet irony or post-irony.

And now I have to dive into Groypers and figure them out. Oof.

Also, according to the ER machines, my systolic blood pressure breaks 180 when my pain levels get high enough. That can't be good.

This poster, which was created and disseminated by abolitionist Theodore Parker, warns black people in Boston to beware of watchmen and police officers, who were legally allowed to act as kidnappers due to the Fugitive Slave Act of 1850. Text reads: Caution!! Colored people of Boston, one & all, you are hereby respectfully cautioned and advised, to avoid conversing with the watchmen and police officers of Boston, for since the recent order of the mayor & aldermen, they are empowered to act as kidnappers and slave catchers ... Keep a sharp look out for kidnappers, and have top eye open. April 24, 1851

History rhymes, and we can learn from the cadence.

Went to ER. Was prescribed muscle relaxers. They helped immensely, and I wondered why I stopped taking them.

Then I stood up, fell down, and remembered. Overtight leg muscles are all that keep me vertical. Muscle relaxers loosen them, causing falls.

That. That's why I stopped.

Managed to get lost going through a robotic phone menu today. It was like driving, but while sitting on the toilet.

My phone just autocorrected the word I typed, 'fatuously', to 'stupidly'.

No, I'm not going to presume the people I talk to are so poorly read and ill-informed that I need to say 'stupid' when I mean 'fatuous'.

When did my phone become such a misanthrope? People know that word!

Actually watching Trump's ramble on DC's police forces being commandeered by the Feds.

Only at the 15-minute mark of a 1.5 hour recording because I keep fact-checking.

This thing is a master class in using real numbers to lie egregiously.

Order Total $666.69

Just ordered parts to build a new PC from Newegg, because my last one dropped yesterday.

I take this final total, $666.69, to mean these components are blessed by my Laird.

LLMs are basically cults. They worship the same God that is predominant in America: Mammon.

Worshipping just about any other god will render better results.

Yesterday, my dog knocked an ashy incense burner onto a pillow in the living room.

Today, I knocked an ashy incense burner off of my nightstand with my pillow.

Yes, I have incense burners in every room. What of it?

Angel (Angel Prelude) by Mikalojus Konstantinas Ciurlionis, in which a peachy pink angel sits atop a misty mountain near bridges tilting to the sky. The painting is accompanied by text that reads, "Liber AL vel Legis as read by Gwinsome. April 2025."

Finishing up editing my recording of Liber Legis from this year. The tiny mistakes and audiovisual glitches bug me; I'll do better next year.

But it's making me manic. As usual. How exactly do books pull people's brains into ritual goo-space? I don't get it. They're words. But brain go poof anyway.

Same reason I have long hair.

100% needed the alt-text to understand what I was looking at. One of the more pleasing hidden images I've seen.

That's a statement all on its own, hot in an intriguing way. It'd work just fine.

Bad dream last night. I was robbed, beaten, had my stolen phone replaced with a half-functional facsimile (scariest part so far).

Then a woman in a pink blazer started clawing and hissing at me. The undulations of her lapels were so horrifying I yodeled loud enough to wake my partner.

That coat...

Just uploaded that. It's long. And I forgot to get dressed, so it's got pajamas. (Autism, man.)

I also may need to make a part two for the bits emotional exhaustion prevented me from addressing that day.

But I want to work on the incel thing and redecorate my recording area first.

Goddammit. Now I have to read, fact-check/debunk this instead of continuing my current deep dive into inceldom.

Thanks, Trump. I wanted to focus on mental illness in the homeless instead of mental illness in adolescents today. (No, not really.)

Today, an older man pulled his cart back and out of the way when he saw me coming, before I said anything.

I smiled and thanked him; he blushed and smiled in response.

Minutes later, I heard him singing along to Tainted Love.

I may have a crush.

Saw my psychiatrist today. Talked about how I had an eating disorder as a young person, as many autistic females do.

Then I described it. And she went, "It was a hyperfixation?"

Which I'd never thought about. But it absolutely was a hyperfixation with getting the numbers lower.

Having physical materials is nice, but this method is far more portable.

Murder in the House by Jakub Schikaneder. A woman lies immobile and bloody in a cobblestone alley while onlookers look on in terror, despair, and outrage.

I should love True Crime podcasts because I enjoy reading about cases and learning about criminals/victims, but I often feel bored or sullied, like I'm reading a gossip rag.

I'm here for the psychosocial causes and effects, not to hear all the bad things the bad people did. Give me meat, not blood!

Had my first Aleister Crowley dream last night. Worth the wait.