And Then I Thought I was a Fish

IDENTIFYING INFORMATION: Peter Hunt Welch is a 20-year-old single Caucasian male who was residing in Bar Harbor, Maine this summer. He is a University of Maine at Orono student with no prior psychiatric history, who was admitted to the Acadia Hospital on an involuntary basis due to an acute level of confusion and disorganization, both behaviorally and cognitively. He was evaluated at MDI and was transferred from that facility due to psychosis, impulse thoughts, delusions, and disorientation.

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Observations of a Straight White Male with No Interesting Fetishes

Ever wondered how to justify your own righteousness even while you're constantly embarrassed by it? Or how to make a case for your own existence when you contribute nothing besides nominal labor to a faceless corporation that's probably exploiting children? Are you clinging desperately to an arbitrary social model imposed by your parents and childhood friends? Or screaming in terror, your mind unhinged at the prospect of an uncaring void racing to consume the very possibility of your life having meaning?

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Noware

This is the story of a boy, a girl, a phone, a cat, the end of the universe, and the terrible power of ennui.

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⬅ Books for monies

Things I Send to Recruiters

Composed on the 2nd of December in the year 2016, at 1:31 PM. It was Friday.

I get about two recruiter emails a week, because I work in a bubble industry that’s getting fattened up for the inevitable slaughter. Once, they made me feel desired and capable. Then they were junk mail. Then they started finding my personal email addresses and they became obnoxious. I must a be a skeleton key considering how many companies think I’d be a great fit. Then you get annual trends when one clever recruiter’s original cold mailing makes it to reddit and all the rest fall in line. Sort of how half the panhandlers on the subway were raising money for their school at 10am on a weekday, then they were definitely not raising money for their school but just trying to stay off the streets and now they all have families.

But one day I realized recruiter emails were something else altogether: writing prompts. From a captive audience.



Weirdly, I think she would be cute in the right light.

Hi there! You should totally go buy my book for the low low price of 6.73! It's like buying me a beer at an out-of-the-way dive bar in Brooklyn! Not in Manhattan. Manhattan prices are ridiculous, though there are a couple of decent Irish dives where you can snag a drink for five bucks. Otherwise, you're looking at a two or three book beer.
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