---
slug: fn-src-post-145
title: "Facebook journal — 2026-01-01"
kind: source_post
status: published
hash: eeaaac9c1a84b2ca090b77485a258e84479d2a1940ef1e9ca0be703649a10533
created: 2026-10-11T06:41:56.325Z
updated: 2026-10-11T06:41:56.325Z
summary: ""
tags: []
above: ["[[fn-index-posts]]"]
below: []
adjacent: []
nested: []
---
# Facebook journal — 2026-01-01

🧵 🏥 

Everything & Nothing Indefinitely 2026.01.01.05.54 
It’s a new year. My stomach hurts, from the medical grade advil. I was trying to spend time with my dogs, I was sitting on the floor with my labtop, zoned out with AI, five hours passed, got up, didn’t feel right, nearly passed out. It’s been like two weeks, a week after steroids. I’ve gained like 15 pounds of water weight, maybe more, which is really working wonders on top of my hair falling out, and my hair falling out from stress, which is complimenting the bags under my eyes just amazing. 

Around 1 am I was at the pet hospital, my dog got sick from raw chicken, I guess. I lost everything else save for the dogs, yet I was lazy and wrote I had lost everything, so much left to lose. Both of my dogs are old. Pain, already having neuropathy from sciatica. I found joy in walking in 2025, and so of course then, pain might find my walking, and time and health might come for my dogs. I’m not surprised. 

What is there to say. If god is watching, I hope all purpose and joy he has turns to ash in his mouth in 2026. Pain in walking? I will wear the slap with pride, I will find joy in the pain, and pain in the joy, I will hate the pain, and love the pain, hate hate, love love, love hate, hate love, if god is watching shame on him, and if shame is watching, god on him, let shame square itself so as to be known by the most shameful, and hateful creature. 

I will not dignify this fucking troll, I do not hope for 2026, I have no goals, I have no expectations of it, love for it, hate for it, no self improvement gif’s. 

Someone said once - if everyone threw their problems in a pile, you’d see everyone else’s and take your back, and walk away. I’ll throw my problems, and take none back, all back, or double my helping. I take my problems and spit on gods face as I walk from the agora. “This person sounds very angry.” “This post goes against community standards.” I will not void my joy of walking, simply because the spiteful degenerate who sits in the clouds and jerks off to being praised would pry me of one thing - 

Go fuck your mother. Keep your saints. There are no saints for sinners. Fuck the new year, counting the birthday of some degenerate son who was a shitty carpenter. 

To be good is to be good on its own merits, and to be bad is a matter of opinion. Happy New Year. 06:10.

## Facts

```json
{
  "platform": "Facebook",
  "source_id": "https://facebook.com/100035971342878/posts/pfbid0sdRFWs9iFWEFvqjQfAMEwG92e7BSPDdraMDUkqJKMiQ95kS2rmSkjmRwnHCi5bVml/",
  "date_as_recorded": "2026-01-01",
  "post_type": "text",
  "author": "Cyrus Massoumi",
  "retrieval": "Facebook connection timeline fetch, 2026-10-10 (case file Appendix C)"
}
```

---

**above:** [[fn-index-posts]]