regularisperfect because in the end, we’ll all end up 6 feet deep in the ground, so might as well be yourself while you’re here.


journal 001:

November 13th, 2022

Dear Public Diary

As I write this, I’m in the backseat of my best friend's Volvo. We got in a car accident and have been sitting on the side of the Bronx expressway for 3 hours. The car battery just died; we’re going to be here for a while. I’m listening to Kaytranayda to try and pass the time but my mind keeps racing. As my neck burns from the collision, I’m starting to realize some things:

I’ve been in a bit of a slumber. A depressed state I guess. It’s been going on for 5 weeks now. My grandma keeps asking why I can’t eat how I used to, and why I’ve been starving myself like Cassie from Skins. I guess I have one person on my mind a lot, and I keep wondering what went wrong. I now realize that there are some things you can’t control, and that all I can do is smile that for once, I met someone I got along with.

I complain that I have no friends at school, but it’s my fault. I’m not in any clubs,  I don’t talk to people after class, I just sulk and stare at the ground w/ earbuds in.

I should try more in college. Be more present. My moms going into all this debt, and she wants me to finish, so why not? I can start my career and do school. It’s a lot but I wouldn’t be put in this position if I couldn’t handle it. Pressure comes with growing up, time to be an adult.

This morning, before I spent my night on a highway, my Grandma asked: “What do you identify as?” I guess this is because I’m growing my hair out and dress like a SoHo kid who browses Grailed 24/7. I replied, “I don’t know. Finding myself like any other 19 year old on this planet.”


journal 002:

Dear Public Diary,

As this semester comes to a close, I realize I’m about to turn 20 in three months. That number is horrifying--twenty. What is life coming to? I’m entering a new chapter in my life, a new decade, and I still feel like a toddler.

In times like this I miss the days I used to binge watch Skins in bed everyday when I was 14. I didn’t have to worry about anything. Now all I do is worry. I idolized all these characters in shows and movies growing up, and now I’m the one coming of age. 

I guess I should be excited; one more year till I can legally get drunk instead of going to shitty clubs in Hempstead that feel like a High School reunion every time I walk in.

20 is supposed to feel like a milestone but for me, it feels like a reminder of how fast time is flying by. I can’t keep eating like a child anymore or else I won’t make it to 40. Right now, I eat like a gremlin. My diet consists of pop tarts, candy, and cookies. On occassion I’ll eat real food but that’s rare. I have the body of a twink but that won’t last forever, so I should probably start going to the gym before my metabolism slows down and I end up with a build like Danny Devito. 
i'm not going to stop being myself just to please somebody for a couple of minutes, they have a few moments with my presence, I have an entire lifespan with this vessel.


journal 003:

Dear Public Diary,

Whenever I’m at school and having a staring contest with the ground, I wonder if I’m wasting time here. There’s this one thought in the back of my mind going: “This isn’t for you. You’re here doing jack shit, just getting by, wasting your mother’s money and putting her into deeper debt than she already is.”

I feel like an autumn leaf that’s swept up in the air due to high speed winds pushing me up into the sky. In a non-pretentious manner–I feel fucking alone. I'm usually content with this feeling but when I’m at school I see everybody with people. Everybody is talking to somebody. Everyone has a friend. What do I have? A box of pop tarts that I bring with me everyday?

journal 004:

Dear Public Diary,

Today is October 12th. I walked out of the middle of my Linguistics class and ran to the bathroom, because I had to cry. I sat there in the stall thinking about how miserable I am here. At college. I’m not sure what I’m doing here. Every time I come to this campus I get this feeling in my stomach. This empty feeling hits me like a rock. I am alone. Totally and utterly alone. It’s okay though. There’s bad and good periods in life. Near the end of my crying breakdown, somebody walked in. They thought it was empty, so they came in and farted up a storm. He passed gas so many times that I thought he sharted himself. He kept groaning too. This made me belt out into a silent laugh, and put a smile on my face. At that moment I believed God was real and that he was essentially telling me to stop being a bitch.

english paper excerpt:

I Kissed a Girl and I Liked It

“That decision landed me on that log of wood, with the sunsetting, and my Vans shuffling around in the sand, quivering out of pure terror. She ended up saying, “I’m never good with first moves.” This had my head spinning. I retorted with, “Me neither. I’ve never...never done anything.” She was shocked. “Never? Like, never kissed anybody? Not even hold hands with someone?” I felt embarrassed. I’m brown skin and I’m pretty sure I’ve never felt my cheeks turn that red before. She ended up being super sweet and gentle, smoothly leaning in and asking, “Well, do you want to kiss me right now?” I, of course, said yes, in an extremely nervous tone. She smiled, our lips collidied, and my childhood fantasy finally came true--I had my first kiss. I never felt so infinite in my life. I never felt so free. I never felt so happy. The little kid in my heart jumped for joy. For once, I felt connected with somebody. For once, I didn’t feel alone. For once, I wasn’t afraid that my life would turn into my Father and Mother’s horrific relationship--cold, distant, and severely lacking in the affection department. I can confidently say, I’ve never seen my Mom and Dad kiss on the lips. My dad would always fringe up when my Mom would ask for a kiss...”

journal 005:

Dear Public Diary,

The other day I was on the way to the subway and instead of paying 2.75 to pass through the turnstile–I went through an open emergency exit. Instead of getting by as usual, there stood 3 police officers giving me a mug of disappointment and annoyance. The officer didn’t say anything, he just gave me a glare and wagged his pointer finger for me to come over as if I was a little dog. I did as I was told, and went over to a filthy wall right next to another guy in the same boat as me.

As I stood there getting interrogated and forced to pull out my ID–I zoned out and thought about where I am in life. I’m starting a career in music at 19 that is both exciting but equally terrifying. I’m a sophomore in college who doesn’t take school seriously enough as he should, and is suffering from a chronic case of loneliness. I’ve been in a slump the past three weeks because to be honest, I haven’t felt as much joy as I did on September 18th, the day I got my first kiss. I’ve gotten really tired of Long Island, so I’ve applied to one city college in hopes of transferring. I worry my Grandma too much because she says “I look mad at the world” and never smile anymore.

I snapped out of my daze as the officer handed me a ticket, telling me, “if you just paid the 2.75 then you wouldn’t have to deal w/ a 100$ ticket.” He was right. But then I wouldn’t have a story to tell.


regularisperfect script excerpt #003:

Last semester, I was sitting in my philosophy class and my teacher was talking about the meaning of life. It was the last subject in the course, as finals were approaching, so I was pretty absent minded and was on the verge of jumping into daydream land (I was off 2 hours of sleep, I vividly remember having to drive to school and feeling like I could veer off on the side of the Southern State Parkway at any given moment). She was talking about a philosopher whose name I have no recollection of (I didn’t read the chapter), and had said that one of his views was that the main goal in life is to be genuine.

Instantly, that struck a chord with me. It’s like I awakened from my vampire daze and started paying attention. She had used the example of a college student to prove the philosophers perspective, saying that: if you’re in college because you genuinely want to be here, and you want to learn for 4 years before life starts, then you’re living an authentic life. If you’re in college because it’s made out to be the thing to do, or your parents want you to, or because all your friends are, then you’re living an inauthentic life.

journal 006:

Dear Public Diary,

The only reason I became an A&R was because all throughout High School I was depressed and sat on the internet all day. Because of this I did nothing but do write ups on new music for a blog called FreshFruitOnly, post obnoxiously on KanyeToThe and post new music on Youtube under a channel called nappyhead. Now I’m here, and am so unbelievably frightened. I have this huge oppurtunity and I have to perform. I have to sign big things. Things that make money. I’m just a kid who’s chronically online, have half a brain, and only speaks when he has something to say. I guess that’s worth something. I wonder where I’ll be by the time college is over.


journal 007:

Dear Public Diary,

What is this feeling? This crippling loneliness that occupies my chest every time  I step foot on this campus. I don’t know. I haven’t felt it since High School. Freshman year didn’t feel this bad. I suppose you could call it the Sophomore blues. Because lately, things have not been particularly clear in my head. Rather cloudy. I don’t sleep that much anymore, for some reason I wake up pretty early at around 4 or 5 and just think. I usually stare at things while listening to music. Usually it’s the ground, or it’s my computer screen. While I’m doing this my head is elsewhere, thinking of so many thoughts at once it’s insufferable. I want to make another video again but I second guess myself too much to get up and do it. I want to enjoy college but for some reason the past 3 times I’ve been on campus I've belted out crying. Like full on you look in the mirror and your eyes are bloodshot red as if you’re high off 3 joints in a hotbox type level crying.

That is okay though, I know the world doesn’t revolve around me. Everybody cries. I’m not going to jump off a bridge and hold up traffic for everybody. That’d be selfish. Sometimes I just wish that it had a pause button. So for once, I could breathe and relax. And think clearly. But it doesn’t. That’s not reality.

I can’t really speak to anyone, even if I try, they all leave or I don’t want to bother them.  I’ve lost my appetite–the other day I didn’t even eat anything for 30 hours straight. I don’t know where this habit came from, I think it stems from a sort of self-punishment. If something goes wrong in my life, then I must stop eating how I usually do, and fast as if it’s ramadan.

I took a midterm the other day, and just stared at it. Like full on blanked. My mind on the subject of Astronomy was absent, I had no desire to even attempt to focus. This was probably because I was thinking of scoffing down the Maple Syrup flavored pop tarts I had in my bag, because as usual, I didn’t eat lunch during my 12 hour school day, because I have nobody to eat lunch with and I’m sick of eating alone. I know that sounds stupid, but I’d rather eat nothing than spend another minute eating in my car, or nibbling on peanut butter crackers in the student lounge.

I’ve been filling out transfer applications but am second guessing myself because–what if I’m just miserable here because I never tried? I haven’t particularly tried to make friends–I just go to class, sulk and have a staring contest with the ground, and go home. That’s not trying. That’s just getting by.


u kno i'm really stumped on this thing called life but i like finding new music and filming and editing things maybe i'll make something of myself someday