19/03/2026
Rose, don't you work in a literal fucking ambulance?. Um, yea? so? Anyway, yesterday I went to this super awesome fucking restaurant with Terra (the friend from rose quartz) and it was so fucking awesome. The food was amazing, the vibe was nice, and she looked good af. She recited a post-modern poetry in the car on the way back, I asked her too because like, why would you mention it and then not read it? That was nice. I really like when she reads out loud.Girl.... Fuck off.
I measured whether my wardrobe would fit in my car or whether I have to unscrew it whole and...it would kinda fit? I'd need to sit in a very awkward position to drive but...it would fit. I need a second person to carry it tho and my parents drove to a different side of the country for the weekend and my brother is...not willing to help. So basically I'm fucked because I have noone that could help me and I have no idea what to do. I really want to just fucking live in my apartment already but all this trouble around moving shit and finding people that would help me and not want money for that is insane. Like. Fuck. I can give you head but I can't afford to give you money! Bitch?. yea yea, I'm kinda overreacting, I wouldn't give someone head for helping me move....okay maybe like one person but let's not get into that too much. My point is that I'm in this weird tango of wanting to move and not being able to because I lack help and have no-one to actually ask for that help. I could try to do it on my own but my muscles are at their limit. Literally as I write it we have a patient on the back that I had to carry from the 4th floor on a insanely bad and heavy wheelchair and the patient alone weights like 90 or so, and the fucking wheelchair like another 15 so 105 kg while I woke up feeling hungover (don't ask) and definitely not in the mood or mental space for that.
My friends turned ex-friends. Rose what are you talking about?. Look, when I was still with my ex (we met in highschool) I had two friends (just like to make it easier because there's a whole story to me and other people I wanted to be friends with but let's not get into that). Before I broke up I asked one of them "Hey, if me and her would break up. Would you stay friends with me?" and she said "of course. I'm a friend of yours and her not a friend of the couple". Well, how silly of me to believe her. She restricted me on Instagram, just like the other friend, and she didn't even read my text that I've sent on the 8th of March. It's 11 days. We used to text everyday. it's sad. I really need more friends but it's insanely hard for me to make them because I don't even know where to look. Like. How do you make friends apart from work or uni?
The problem with writing like that is that I had a thought but then I had to stop writing because, well, I'm working and I had to go into the doctor's office with a patient, and now I don't remember what I wanted to talk about. Was it about me not really knowing what is going on just now because I can't stop thinking about other things and that will be the end of me? Was it about totally not giving a single fuck about this job anymore but I need to do it because I seriously can't go broke because I don't have anyone that would support me financially right now? Was it about me wanting to escape and go to the Netherlands or to like a Slovenian forest never to be seen for a month or more and then coming back a different person? Or was it about me wanting to get high with my friend so she can show me whatever body horror movies she watches? Honestly, no idea.
Oh yea. Hi, Terra! If you're reading this, that means that you seriously have nothing better to do today and you decided to absolutely waste your time and read my blog. Yay! Enjoy this shit show of thoughts that I decided not to keep in my diary but share so that I'll find some kind of purpose in writing a diary in the first place.
And Hi K because you're probably also reading this bc I fucked something up with the code and asked you for help.
Fuck, what I even wanted to say? That you're stupid for writing this while you literally stand behind a patient in a wheelchair and you're supposed to watch her because that's you fucking job?. Okay, first of all. Like I said before. Fuck off, weird online stranger person. And second, I hate this job. Maybe not job specifically but I hate the company I work for. It's an absolute joke and shit show. Yesterday we literally asked, almost begged, a patient's grandkid who went with her to write a complaint that we have no real equipment and what we have is literally covered in rust and not even close to being safe. And what does our dear village headman/boss thinks? That the company (him) has no money to actually buy shit. Like. Fuck you mean. The company brings him around 6 MILLION in revenue. HOW THE FUCK DO YOU NOT HAVE THE MONEY TO BUY A WHEELCHAIR THAT DOESN'T FALL APART!? I hate it here. It's a shitshow. I'm embarrassed to show up to a patient in a rust covered ambulance from the 80s/90s while the other companies show up in brand new Masters or Sprinters looking so damn professional that I even start to doubt my own competences and skills and if my EMT title is even at the same rank as theirs even tho there is no ranking system when it comes to that. I feel like a joke, honestly. People laugh at us. Legitimately laugh.
Oh, running away. I won't be able to do that because I have bills to pay, uni to finish, job to attend. But maybe in 3 years when I'll have a normal job and I'll earn normal money, I can kinda save up for like a month off. If my employer would allow it, I could afford that. Maybe I could actually go back to that one house in the forest next to a river in Slovenia? It was nice. It was relieving but I was too young to actually care and enjoy it.
The patient I'm still with started to called me "Miss" and then she took a closer look and was like "are you a boy or a girl" and I was like "why would that matter" and she was like "because you're pretty like a girl and a boy" and I was like "that's nice" and we took her downstairs and she again started "so, Mr, Miss, uh, how do I call you?" and I was like "whatever" and she was like "No! no, whatever! I need to know!" and I was like "call me whatever, really" and I know that some years back I'd be happy to actually have people that can't tell what gender I am, and like, yea I get that gender is a construct and genderfuckery is cool but I'd feel so much better if people would not question it. if they'd be like "oh, that's a girl" and not "huh, that's a...boyish fem, probably a boy but I'm not sure? maybe like a really masculine girl? um... boygirl? girlboy?". I get how cool is that and I dress like a tomboy (yea yea, butch, whatever) but I still want people to call me a girl and Miss and Lady and shit. Sure, when I'm at work and I have to still boymode, it's nice, it's affirming, it's cool. But today I have makeup done and all and it doesn't feel the same as it felt when I was fully boymoding and shit. ygh. I'm too tired to actually describe whether I feel sad, mad or nice. Probably every single thing at once just a bit.
Rose, what are you even bullshitting about?. Uh...I don't know. I'm spiraling into my own dysphoria but also common sense or like, something, so like, whatever I say is pointless and all. Whatever. Who cares.
Just like I told K, if you really think about it you start to get into like absurdism and shit and you realise that whatever Schopenhauer said is actually not that bad but apart from the part that killing yourself is not an option OR you realise that hedonism is the only way but why stop there? anarcho-hedonistic order of the world is the only way because everything is pointless and whatever you do, you're no-one and maybe nothing is real. You're nothing, so why even bother?
Rose, are you fucking high?. No. But I so fucking wish that I was.
Anyway, for now I have nothing else to say, maybe I'll actually upload this shit now and write something else later? Uh, who cares. You won't see what I did when anyway. Whatever. Here's something for you to listen.
~Love Rose