I open my computer and forget what I wanted to say. Assessing progress is difficult when there's nothing you're trying to progress towards. Why are you so disappointed in yourself? There's nothing to be disappointed in.

Eating is becoming increasingly difficult. I was excited for the beef I got. When I try to eat it, I gag. I'm sticking it in soup later, maybe that'll be better...i think my "let's go back to keto / lchf" was destined to fail. The taste of meat has become repulsive. I gag and dryheave and struggle to keep the food down. What happened? I gave up on having the beef, stuck it in the fridge for later, and forced myself to eat a small bowl of yogurt. This wasn't enough to satisfy my appetite. I'm thinking about buying meal replacement shakes, or getting a blender and making smoothies. I need to eat. Eating is associating itself with gagging. The taste of the protein bars has become repulsive. It seems like everything is degrading. I'll make a list of the things I can consistently eat. I'll make a list of the things I can force myself to eat (without gagging). Maybe eating them often enough will move them into the list of things I can consistently eat. I'll keep track of the things that I struggle to keep down. Once I finish the food that's in my fridge, I won't buy the things I'm gagging on.

Current record:

[+] mozzarella, dates, carrots (apparently I'm not allergic!!!), coconut, edamame, kiwi, instant miso soup, eggs, mango. [0] yogurt, most cheese, berries, fish, lettuce, arugula, tofu?, chicken?, hommus, granola bars, canned fruit, cauliflour rice. [-] beef, pork, nuts, grits, oatmeal, cornbread.

Lovely...but I do think keeping track of what I eat and how I react to it will help me figure out what to eat. I'd rather eat something and have a stomachache than vomit and keep down nothing. Gotta get some nutrients in me.

So...looks like my plan to increase the amount of food I eat is failing royally. On the plus side, I've eaten at least 50g of protein a day for the past two weeks! That's more than nothing. I'm going to go cook the taco beef; maybe the mix of seasoning + cheese + guacamole will make it palatable enough. I just need to eat something. Hell, I could put an egg on top of it...now THAT sounds good...I love egg yolks. The whites are meh, but the yolk makes up for it.

The beef is not defrosted. TONIGHT.

I feel like I am suffocating. I am being burried in my stuff. What stuff. The choices I've made and the things I've done. I want to revolutionize myself. I dream of the drastic turnaround; the realization of what could be and the acting on it. Instead I am caught up in the troubles of daily life. My house is shit. I have come to the conclusion that the room below mine is inhabited by two different couples---one language and set of voices for the day, and the other for the night. The scratching and banging on the walls from 12am-2am, which sounds like someone is trying to break in through the front door of my unit. The EDM I can hear through the kitchen floors. The smell of weed coming through open windows. I force myself to come home for what? I've been spending too much time on Youtube---too much is evidenced by how I go about using Youtube. I have nothing I want to watch. I force the algorithm to provide. I watch videos where people claim that they changed their life and you can too. Blonde beauties. Why won't I do that for myself. I am not satisfied with my life and I wonder if I would be satisfied with theirs. Yet their lives are so concerned with themselves---their health and appearance. I am not concerned with these things. I can't imagine making these the focal point of my life. Honestly, David Achu's videos on hearing and sleeping did a better job at reminding me to watch my health than the fitness girlies did. I love his style. He is a real person. Congrats.

I am drowning / there is no sign of land. But there's nobody coming down with me. I want to hurt people and I want to be hurt by them. "You don't take compliments well." And I bite my tongue so I don't reply: compliments are never earned.

I ask a tarot deck what to keep in mind. It answers with the two of pentacles: you're juggling a lot; better times are coming. I appreciate the sentiment. Hold on. Hold on. Hold on. All I need is one attempt to bear fruit. One attempt will come. Hold on. I promise myself: I'll finish reading, that book, work on that book, and read the few interesting sections of that book. I can spend Saturday reading! I am not working on Saturday. I will read and write. I'd started working on a visual novel, but the mechanics for my idea were a drag. I need to start by writing the story. I think twine would be a better tool; this is a text-based CYOA deal, and not a visual novel deal. I can simplify the idea into something manageable. Or I can work on the interesting bits and see where they take me. The saying is (along the lines of): if writing it is a drag, reading it will be. And the writing being boring from the start is a bad sign.

I want to demystify the writers / works I heard of in my history classes. I can read Common Sense. I can read Rosseau. I can read — and read and read. Or: I can try to read them. They may not interest me, and I may leave them incomplete, but I want to turn these intangible "great works" / "history things" into the books / pamphlets / essays / etc. they were. I can try to understand them. I like this idea. I will finish the books I am currently reading first. I will work towards my next round of interesting literature.

Work is my life; maybe that's the problem.

—growing sick of intangibility. what is this meant to be? I want to update because I want to. Now playing: Tokyo Teddy Bear (cover by Jubyphonic); Desperate Measures (Marianas Trench). I took down the papers on my walls and I feel fine, for a moment. Someday this will make sense. I will make it make sense. I will strangle it into sense.

I found an old list of "things to look into." The file was last modified 20240703---nine months ago. I offer it for your judgement:

I have read/watched very few of these. A voice in my head tempts me: with regular work, I could knock this out over the next two-three months. Would this satisfy me? I think not. It tempts me nontheless. I categorize the list into what would take the least amount of time. What can I knock out now.

What would I gain from revisiting my former self? That is all this list is. Things I thought I wanted to read buried alongside things someone else thought I could want to read. I wanted to watch Last Year at Marienbad because I wanted to know what Marienbad My Love (abbreviated) referenced; AI has rendered Marienbad My Love obsolete. I contemplate Marienbad My Love and megatexts Mark Leach and Bradley J Fest. Leach has abused the megatext, ambitiously, and AI has made his work irrelevant. There was no progress. Or the progress made---I speak vaguely---has become destructive. Generative AI is destructive. Where am I going with this---to retrieve my laundry before the laundromat closes.

Sure, she's got the maniacs, but I still got my pedophiles, so take that.

source

Not sure if I want to keep watching Lucky Star, or if I'm just watching it for Lucky Channel. Akira's on-camera and off-camera demeanors are hilarious. She alternates between "over the top cute" and "disillusioned pop star." I'm learning about small talk and human interaction^TM through the power of slice-of-life anime. Also, so much of the background music is played on the bassoon! Or a synth that sounds like a bassoon.

Telling myself I'll go to the grocery store and get 'back on track' today. For the past few months, my dietary choices have lacked sense. I think they'll make me happy, and I'm not surprised when they don't. I'd rather be unhappy and healthy than unhappy and unhealthy. Carnivore became unmanageable when I eliminated cheese from my diet. I think I'm happier with cheese. It's amazing. Yes, it can give me acne and stomach pain, but so do carbs. I can't even pinpoint what I have been eating. Canned fruit? Protein bars? I'm growing sick of the taste of protein bars. I want to mix taco seasoning with ground beef and cheese---god that sounds delicious. Next to ricotta and pasta sauce (with eggs!). My grocery store does have a limit on the number of egg cartons I'm allowed to buy. I have some tofu I need to bake; need to find a sauce to drown it in. I'm going to make an egg bake, since it's an easy way to have my breakfasts taken care of.

I need to find a way to stop myself from stressing out over food. My draft "meal plan" consists of 2-3 meals a day: eggs, yogurt w/ fruit, meat w/ cheese. Carrots and hummus. I'm going to let myself buy fish today. I'll drown that fucker in salt...yum. I'm sick of chicken, but I'll make salads with it. I don't want pork. I'll buy ground beef. Problems solved? Hopefully.

I've thought about groceries as a form of art before. I've contemplated creating a feed of my receipts from grocery shopping. When I was going to Dunkin on a regular basis, I thought of creating a feed specifically for my Dunkin receipts. I've contemplated taking pictures of each grocery 'haul': here is what I bought this week. There was something fascinating about placing every item together. Take a picture. These are my groceries; what do you think?

My latest update to the kitchen page is a practical implementation of this. I need to find eating & grocery habits which suit me. I need to stop working against food. I want to have a better handle on what food I eat / crave, when to use up frozen leftovers, and what to buy from the store. I think I can remember what products I (dis)liked...but there's no harm in noting. Sometimes, I need to be reminded that something exists. Like guacamole! When I saw guacamole, I didn't hesitate to put it in my basket. This is a good sign. I usually spend a lot of time deliberating my options. Take the number of minutes I spent looking over single-serving yogurts (I thought I might buy one as a dessert) only to buy a plain tub.

I took the time to calculate how many pounds of food I carried home. When I add in the other things I had on my back (ex. a 40oz water bottle), I carried ~30lb home from the grocery store today. This felt lighter than usual. I don't feel as sore and worn out as I usually do.

I am fascinated by the space my groceries take up. Meal prep can transform a full, cluttered fridge into an half-empty fridge. The amount of food in the fridge hasn't changed, but the space has been redistributed. Perhaps the packaging took up more space than I'd thought.

What else to say. (come morning) I want to go back to sleep. I want a coffee. I don't want to wake up. I'm going to cook fish for breakfast. If I make enough progress on my todo list, I'll let myself have a coffee. I have two hours to earn that coffee. I need to get out of bed, then. I have no choice.

The book I'm currently reading is a drag. It is a history textbook disguised as a history book written for commoners. It's been a while since I read a non-academic history book. This book is by a journalist, so I thought it would be more riveting. Aarrrgghh. I'm going to read fiction alongside this; I can't stand dragging myself through this otherwise. 120 pages feels like an entire book; 20 pages takes an hour.

I looked through MIT OCW for a course that might suit my needs; I haven't had luck with edX. Finding history courses is challenging. They have a couple classes on China that look interesting. Maybe I'll work through one of those sylabii next. I'm trying to fill in gaps in knowledge. Where am I going with this...trying to fill my time...

Depressed vocaloid music replays in my head. There's nothing to see now / I have torn it all apart (Tokyo Teddy Bear). I'm slipping through the cracks of a dark eternity (Bad Apple). Luka Luka night fever~ (titular; not depressed but stuck in my head).

In a flash, a veil is lifted---how did I not notice it? What matters is its absence. I made a thing. I made another thing. I can see the next thing; I'll work on it when I get home. These aren't epic ideas. They're trial runs; experiments. Maybe this is something, maybe it'll become nothing, for now it's a flash that matters.

I like this.

Time to get ready for work.

After seeing Keltie O'Connor's video on creatine, I decided to try it. The mental benefits were more appealing than the physical benefits. I wondered if it would help with my brain fog. Caffeine helped with my brain fog a bit, but I didn't appreciate the side effects or physical dependency. Her speaking about not experiencing severe jet lag (while taking creatine) and being able to do a "girls' weekend" without its usual negatives was what sold me on it. She sounded like she experienced the positives of caffeine which I was looking for. So...I'm trying 5g/day for the next 77 days. (That's how many servings are in the bottle). I instantly feel like one of the fitness influencers. Look, ma, I'm dissolving the magic powder into water...I'm dRINKING it...

I wonder if doing the fitness-y things (taking creatine, focusing on increasing my protein intake) are going to help me exercise more. If I'm doing some of the things the fitness girlies do, I might as well go all the way, right? Hmm...we'll see. My brief illness brought my dance habit to a halt. I was having trouble breathing, and a bit more cardio wasn't feasable (evidence: my attempts at dancing). Today, I will change that. I think I'm going to spend more time dancing to music. I've primarily been drilling a few moves (t-step, running man, moonwalk); I think doing them to a specific beat is the next step to improving. How much I struggle will _not_ demotivate me. I will keep working and improve until I'm as good as the cool kids. I will be one of the people who can quickly glide across the room. The laws of physics are no match for me; I think I'll try defying gravity. (Sorry not sorry.)

After some trial and error, I re-installed NixOS. Some apps weren't updating, I'd spent too much time installing software outside of the config file (thus ignoring the benefits of Nix's package manager), and still couldn't get the volume / media keys to work correctly. So. Have it your way. I was going to switch to Debian, but neither of the USB drives I had were cooperating with my attempts to stick the OS on them. The USB drives weren't being formatted correctly; while the computer could recognize the partition on them (between the part with the OS and the free space), I wasn't able to format the partition with the OS. If it sounds like I'm speaking gibberish or don't understand USBs...I dunno. The computer said "the USB is 5mb" and I say "no, it's 16gb." I find some other piece of software. It says the USB is 5mb, but look, there's this operating system on the USB which is occupying 11gb. Okay, format it. Nevermind, it's locked. At that point, I was just frustrated and wanted a working computer. So I re-installed NixOS. I had been using the XFCE desktop environment; switching to KDE solved a few problems. Suddenly, all of the media keys work all the time (as opposed to only when using the VLC media player). The fact that I can now press buttons to adjust the volume, instead of opening up the audio control panel, is freeing. the keys just do their thing...

My head is stuck on the todo list of "things I must complete before updating the website." I tell myself: I will write until the alarm goes off, and I will update anyways. There are three books on my nightstands---When the War Was Over, by Elizabeth Becker; Communism and Human Values, by Maurice Cornforth; A Radical Act of Free Magic, by HG Parry---which I think I must finish before I update my website again. I do not need to finish these before updating the labyrinth. I think: I must write about this, add song lyrics from this, add this this this this before updating. This website is constantly evolving; why must I have a 'complete' version for each update? Frustration with myself strikes. I dream of sifting through my thoughts so that my half-baked vision of myself and my life coalesces. There is something beneath the surface; its thoughts peak out, like tentacles, promising me something I want to work for. A version of life I can come into, instead of strangling myself into. Yes. That, I can write, am writing, but it will take time. I put my notes on the walls of my room. I am not pulling myself up; I am climbing. The pieces will fall into place, and I need only give them time.

Had a shrimp gyro for lunch. Spicy. Saw a coworker while I was walking; he was in his car, but he waved at me. I will update, I will get ready for work, I will read for a few minutes, and then I will leave for work. I fantasize about them letting me head out early tonight. I think they're trying to not have me work more than 40hr a week, so the chance is there...

Haphazardly clicking through new games on itch.io.

Trapped With Jester

Love this guy. Immediately thought of Black Butler. He sounds like a crazy guy who'd be a great partner in crime. We'd be trapped in his vengeful re-interpretation of reality. I got the "1B - My Master" ending, then replayed it and got the "Blasphemous Partnership" ending. Artstyle is nice. Simple and funny---remembering "are you alive yet?"

First Kiss at a Spooky Soiree

The cuteness overload is real. Vinegar was the first ending I got. I was concerned this was going to take a murderous twist...but she was just undead. Funny little interaction. Poffin---I kissed a moth?!. Periwinkle was adorable...though that kind of guy would intimidate me in real life. He's better at being feminine than I am! Seems to enjoy lolita fashion...I want to dress like that. Maybe I could.

Chopping Board

...the idea was interesting, but the plot wasn't coherent. I'm told to break up a couple "just because." I played through thrice without significant variety in the endings. I'm not surprised Pineapple and Pizza sued me.

answer these 10 questions and i'll tell you what kind of lover you are

...the machine is sentient. Feelings are felt. I expected a bit of storytelling, but I didn't expect the strong memory of an event the narrator and the player experienced. This was nice. I have new ideas.

Love in a Bottle

Cute! Ankora is naive and outgoing; I liked getting to play as her. The pixel art was adorable. Wish it wasn't just a demo...

Saint Spell

Loving the pixel art and gentle color palette. This is going to take a while to play through.

I am giving myself fifteen minutes to write. Then I will do the dishes and leave for work. I'm making curry. I don't want to make curry. I think it's time to shrug and buy curry pastes; time to stop exhausting myself when I don't want to. I am tired and I have been awake for 3hr. Part of my problem comes from letting myself watch videos this morning. I don't think this was a good choice. I could have read. I thought "well, I read for 4hr last night, I don't think I want to do more this morning." Oh, and I tried to read news articles. I wonder how disbanding the Department of Education could impact student debt. I'm also remembering the Department of Education in Stain'd by the Sea (All The Wrong Questions, by Lemony Snicket). The DoE was nothing there. I'm not making a true connection between these; there isn't one to be had. I read a few articles about immigration / deportation which showed how immigrants, legal and not, boost the economy. Critiques of the legal immigration process. Immigrants who saw illegal immigration as worth the risk. I don't understand the current US' president's obsession with immigration. I think he's creating a problem. What else...oh, more documents pertaining to the JFK assassination are being released. There was an article from The Free Press pointing out how people keep themselves in the dark (via conspiracy theories) and deny the truth. That is, the released documents won't suddenly tell us "what actually happened"...because we already know what happened. But conspiracy theorists will conspiracy.

So many of my thoughts are about work. I wake up and stress about work. I go to work and stress. I come home and stress. Whatever happens, happens. I will be criticized anyways. Once I am perfect, and have been here long enough, I will be fine. I am different, so the expectations are different. I'm tired of being on the outside looking in, but I don't think I can cross that line. The people who have been here for a while, thus are friendlier with each other, will have always known each other for longer. They will always have their dynamics. I am the intruder. I feel like I don't belong. I don't belong. This doesn't matter. There is no overcoming this. I don't have a choice. There was a moment when I thought I'd made inroads, but this was a lie. Now I'm grumpy and everybody hates me. I do things, and everybody benefits---my coworkers get to spend less time doing things, and they get to be blissfully unaware. I envy them. Ignorance is bliss. They aren't stressed. The timer went off. I started a timer for five more minutes. Dishes don't take that long. Besides, my shift starts in .5hr, and I need all of five minutes to walk to work. There's a catering order...I want to be a few minutes early, so I'm there for when we start working on it. This will be fine. Breathe.

I bought groceries a week ago. My fridge doesn't look sparse; it looks like there's enough food to last another week. I like this. I have a mental list of what I need to buy next time I get groceries. I'm reassessing my eating habits---what do I want to eat, what do I want to spend my time cooking---and coming to new conclusions. The salad was the highlight of my week. I used "baby butter lettuce," tofu, tomatoes, and a raspberry dressing. This was enjoyable. My food will last me a while longer. I have options, and I do not need to go grocery shopping this weekend. I need to remember to cook up the last bit of asparagus, and to make polenta. I'll finish eating the eggs and yogurt tomorrow. I'll have a bag of edamame for lunch. Okay, now I need to stop typing. Bye!!!

TONIGHT: read library books and make curry and work on website. Dance?

As I was browsing through the Neocities Activity Feed, I saw a group of similar sites which were updated at the same time:

• vegan baker in the UK
• vegan options in prestwich, UK
• curry house in manchester, UK
• solar company in manchester, UK

At first, I thought I had uncovered a Vegan Conspiracy---or was someone using AI to create a fictional version of the UK? The solar company was the odd one out; three of the four websites are about food. However, it is one of two sites specifically mentioning Manchester. I click through it, convinced it holds the answers. What internet oddity is this.

...a web developer is hosting multiple real websites on Neocities. No conspiracy or AI required. Welp. What a bust.

Bullet points against time theft:

you don't "earn" a living. you are entitled to one by virtue of society's capability to provide it.

By existing, you are part of society. This is inherent to the human condition and cannot be rejected. What you do contributes to society's capability to provide you with a living. We earn a living for ourself and others.

employment is the convoluted, esoteric, and meaningless scheme we use to inequitably allocate livings within our society

While attaining employment is a challenge, the concept of being employed is straightforward. One does work (for another person) and receives financial compensation.

How is employment esoteric, convoluted, meaningless, a scam, and a cruel joke?

time theft is calling a bluff, discovering the absence of any importance, urgency, and impact to the work you're made to do

This manifesto seems to be targeted at a specific kind of work. I'm thinking of college administration bloat..."bullshit jobs"?

I saw this 'manifesto' and was annoyed. Someone is responsible for the ingredients I am able to buy from the grocery store. There were people involved in getting things from point A to point B. How nice it is, to have a society that has progressed past agrarianism! Someone is directly putting in the work, and we respond with indirect work (obtaining money to buy things, instead of being responsible for the thing). I forgot where I meant to go with this.

Something is wrong because I am, once again, operating off of incomplete information. This is a recurring theme. Funny thing is that whoever is criticizing me calms down when they find out that I didn't know (whatever they were criticizing me for). I hate being left to feel like I'm using "I didn't know" as an excuse, even when it's the truth and there was no way for me to figure it out on my own. Frustrations with work. As always. I'm not sure what my responsibilities are. I miss being new and knowing what was expected of me. But being new turned into "needing to delegate and take care of random tasks" to "figure it out." An outsider wouldn't understand what I'm saying. If I reread this in two years, would I remember what I meant? How about in ten years? Oh, memory.

I hope I'm not actually reaching a breaking point.

I look at my recent entries, and I worry I am.

I look at the others: why is this expected of me and not you. What makes us different. If you put in more work, you're expected to keep putting in more work, and it must be perfect. Does my dropping out of college mean the standards are different. Well, it's a full-time job for me, and a part-time job for most. I just wish more people told me when I was doing something wrong. Why watch me do something wrong for six months before letting me know it's wrong? I don't know it's wrong...and (you) should have told me a long time ago! Mutual frustration. "Ask more questions" doesn't work when you don't know there's a gap in your knowledge.

Okay. What went well. I spent 4hr reading after work. I showered and ate dinner. I wrote some. I did not watch videos. I still feel slightly ill. My head is foggy. I'm not retaining information very well. Maybe I'll be completely better in the morning. I wonder if this brief cold is a physical manifestation of my problems. A sign to what?

Stop replaying the conversation. I am annoyed because people seem to take things out on me, hear what I have to say, and calm down. Someone assumes something, I bring us back to the same page, now we know what the problem actually is. If we got on the same page to start with, less time would be wasted. But people need to blow off steam, and I'm an easy scapegoat...or something. I need to stop thinking about this. Is this a game I can play to win?

lol. three days later, and i'm not sure what i was talking about here.

Thinking of Seng Ty's memoir (on the Khmer Rouge)---he had a brief moment when the agrarian life wasn't so bad; access to a garden, his family was still together,. Then they relocate and starve. Communism became religion---"you have no mother now. Angkor is your mother." All must be done for the faith, even if it means people die. People who don't fit into their vision of society _must_ die. Calling people back to Cambodia in the name of help, for the purpose of killing them. Why this fervent rejection of intellectualism? His memoir paints a picture of Cambodia that goes from "society's pretty good" to "in shambles" (understatement) _overnight_. I've another book from the library---When the War Was Over, by Elizabeth Becker---which should offer more answers. I also need to read about what happened after the French Revolution.

With this written out, I'm looking forward to getting home from work tonight. Leaving at five / only working six hours doesn't seem so bad. I've enough in savings to cover the losses (for the next three months). I have things I want to read about when I get home.

Y'know, yesterday's entry was written at 1am, so I counted it as the previous day's. I should have started writing down this entry as I thought about it. This is a constant thought---I follow a path, and then I realize I would have been better off if I started writing the path down in the first place. Lovely. If I started writing when I started thinking, this would have started with how I came to the conclusion that I could kill myself on Thursday. Friday would be a poor choice; my not being there with no advance notice would leave them in a bad situation. Eh. They'd manage, but they'd be annoyed. My not showing up on Thursday, last minute? No problem. They don't need me there. I like the idea of it. My work satisfaction has gone down significantly. I spent the past week cleaning...to no acknowledgement. Meanwhile, someone else gets mentioned in the weekly email for the cleaning she did last week (and she was told to do that stuff...guess who wasn't? Because the cleaning is expected of me, but not of the others. I feel like I work my ass off to no acknowledgement from my employer, and to the laughter of others. I'm expected to do more work for the same pay. Oh, sure, I get the monthly empty sentences of "how things will change / pay"...but all of it is empty. There's no timeline. I've heard the same things, once a month, for four months. I'm not consistently getting 40hr anymore. I'm glad I wasn't able to move into the nicer place; with this wage inconsistency, I couldn't afford it (without blowing through my savings). I'm relying on tip to pay my bills. That's not good. At least one of my loans will be paid off by the time tip goes down). Work is all I have and they're taking it away from me. I miss working six days. All I want is a consistent weekly schedule. Which, coincidentally, would give me a consistent paycheck. Wouldn't that be nice. I've started eyeing job postings, but I'm not qualified for anything. If I had a driver's license, I'd have a chance. I wonder if a kitchen that isn't operated by college students would have more consistent hours. Or is it worse, with people always being expected to be early / stay late. My 'schedule' has me coming it at 10 or 11, except for when I come in at 3, and leaving at 5, 6, or 7, except for when I'm closing. I'm scheduled for all of 6*3 + 8*2 = 34hr this week. Across five days. Of course, I haven't been here long enough to train people, and I'm not someone who needs to be trained either, so my shifts are the first to go. Go? Be bounced around? On principle, they can afford to bounce me around---I've got no other commitments, and, unless I find a better job, I've got no choice (not that they think I'd look?)---so they will.

I'm so sick of this. I don't care about my life. Why bother? Is there anything that could make this worth it? I once thought there was. Then the rug was pulled out from me and I was repeatedly backstabbed. Or let myself be backstabbed. In hindsight, the end was obvious. Someone painted a pretty picture and I was delusional, or desperate, enough to believe it. I was left to think that, if I were good enough, things would get better. I was left to think that better was an option; all I had to do was enough, and then things would change. My idle daydreams---what would happen if I were enough?---could become reality. There was a light at the end of the tunnel. Except the light was cast by a trickster who could extinguish the light whenever he pleased. I held onto the idea of the light. Sometimes, it would come back, until it didn't. It hasn't. I miss you and it hurts. I think about writing to you, and I think about how you'd tell me this is a selfish endeavor and you gain nothing from it. You're right. I want to know how you are, what you're up to, and you gain nothing from answering those questions. They are small talk. I benefit; you don't. How stupid. How childish. I miss reading together, or the promise of it; you don't. Or I miss the idea of you/we; you don't, and to you, there was no we. I was naught but an inferior being who couldn't even be a human. You use the designation with so many real people. The rare fictional character counted as human. Maybe, when a real person counted as a human, to you, you never saw a need to recognize them as such; the lack of criticism implies the reason why. Yet characters are divided up into human and not human, explicitly. I'm not going anywhere with this. Sorry for wasting your time again.---idle wish that you'd read this, I'm a forgotten element, knowing you won't. The worst part is knowing how much you meant to me and how little I meant to you. You treated me as discardable, denied it, yet you always discarded me. And this is the time I didn't crawl back out of the dumpster. You reached back in once, but only once. All you wanted from me was for me to leave. A worn out toy. No, you might say; then what was I? If I was so easy to leave behind---so easy to cut out of your life---constantly threatening to leave me, knowing how much power you had over me, false benefits and lies.

Welcome to real life, he'd say. Only a retard would expect it to be easy.

clinging to a song like it's my lifeline---where's my "I'm not trapped with you, you see / You're the one who's trapped with me."

What to do. This is why depressed people are alone. They break themselves down until there's nothing left. Then they whine about there not being anything left. "I'm not worth anything; why don't I believe life is worth living?" Who would notice if I died? My coworkers would notice when I didn't show up to work. If I went on vacation and died, nobody would know. My family doesn't speak to me; I've stopped trying to speak to them. I am not one of them. This, they've made clear.

I don't remember writing yesterday's entry. I sat down thinking I hadn't written anything since my last update. Anywho...

There is an elephant on my chest---what a recurring phrase. I want to identify the source of this stress and assassinate it. Work went well today. I didn't meet my standards, but nobody screwed up, and there were no complaints. Customers were not negatively affected by our work. This is good. It isn't good enough---I could have done more, I needed to be better, I should have juggled more. This isn't it. Where comes the stress. From where. I've decluttered. This usually alleviates some stress...my room feels crowded. I don't know what to do about this. Fixating on my stuff isn't useful. My possessions exist. Inventory---weights (use), snacks (use), games (need to return?), alcohol (creative product), containers for alcohol (materials for hobby), foam roller (use). I'll return the games to my parents if/when I see them again. I don't think that's it. Notebooks are notebooks; I wish I had the ones I threw out, so I'm not going to throw out more. There's an extra binder. I need to take the bag of clothes to fabric recycling. None of this is it. I want a bare space. Bare isn't realistic. Sure, I could toss all of my pens (enough to fill a pencil case), but this wouldn't do me good. I would need to buy more. I can have fewer writing implements once I've used up my current ones. That's not it either...I want to vomit. All of these physical sensations are displays of anxiety. Why the rise. I keep saying I'm anxious.

I want to play Shining Nikki. Not just play---I want to blow my entire paycheck on whatever-the-fuck the current event is. I don't know what's going on in the game. Infinity Nikki wouldn't scratch the itch. Infinity Nikki is a lie: see, here, you're doing work, you're getting things done, you're making progress. Shining Nikki is what it is: you have made progress on collecting clothing. You know the clothing doesn't matter. You know it's arbitrary. There is no lie; the progress is true. I want the chance; how much do I need to spend?---want masquerading as need, desire masquerading as necessity; I hurt for this.

Did I mention that I saw — at the cafe; she waved but ignored my attempts to talk to her. I know she can be shy. I could see how this spiraled: she forgot to respond to one message, didn't get the change to respond to the second, so the third seems like an insurmountable challenge. The fourth? Forggettaboutit. Still...what am I supposed to do. Is this it? Our attempt at (trying to be friends?) dies with her unresponsiveness. What role did I play in this. Am I not interesting enough? Is there something I could have done differently? Come to think of it, the way she spoke about some choices she's made make her seem flaky and impulsive. In the short time we worked together, she went on more than one last-minute international vacation (or study abroad, or do something with a stranger...). Maybe it wasn't going to work out. Maybe I pushed her too much; maybe her haphazard ideas of plans weren't meant to be taken seriously. Hmmm...

I want real people. I don't think I'm as lonely as I used to be. I can see how other people enhance experiences, thus bringing the extra dimension to make the experience worthwhile. Going out of my way for someone else is worthwhile. Making effort for somebody is worthwhile. Doing things for/with people feels good.

Something is missing. You're fixating. I want to write my life into something that makes sense. I want there to be a plot---focusing on a plot and threads has made a difference. My hobbies are brewing and dancing. I read a bit; I'm currently focusing on history so that I can develop an understanding of the world. (Not too different from why I was reading philosophy...). I'm paying more attention to how much water I drink and how much food / protein I eat. These are small things, and they matter. These are some direction. This isn't enough. I want drastic.

Yesterday, I went to a boba shop. I had a blueberry slush with coconut jelly (which has become my second favorite drink, after coconut with grass jelly) and some strawberry pancakes (complete with nutella and whipped cream). That was nice.

I've done my decluttering---another "big one." The second one of this year. I guess it's not that big, if I managed to do it twice. I don't think I bought much new (other than brewing supplies). Later this year, will I refine my belongings again? If I'm not buying new things, I doubt there will be more to refine. Maybe I've reached equilibrium. The top-shelf of my closet bothers me. What's on it: checks, trash bags, toothpaste, deodorant, backup glasses, cash, pads, mouse traps. What's there to be annoyed with. Why am I annoyed. I'm not sure what to do with my weekly check; do I need to hold onto them? What for---taxes? Maybe I can shred last year's checks. Oh well. At least my space feels cleaner. There's no stuff piling up; no things that "I've been meaning to get rid of but haven't." I feel slightly better.

The tea wine is amazing. I keep drinking it at night---that sweet, fruity taste is lovely. And I used bread yeast! I gave my coworker a bottle, and she asked if she should have it with creamer (like the Thai tea she always drinks). Her questions confuse me. The Thai tea wine does not taste like Thai tea, and I've told her as much. No, don't add creamer...she also was confused by how brewing works. (You don't just "add alcohol!" If it's this long between "when I started" and "when I say it's drinkable," it's a bit more of a process than you think). I know she doesn't know anything about brewing, so I'm not actually annoyed with her. Her misconceptions are slightly amusing. Would you ever add creamer to wine...?

I can't figure out if wine is disrupting my sleep, exacerbating my insomnia, or merely making my sleep problems more obvious. I drink enough to feel slightly tired (or my fatigue grows prominent at the same time), and then two hours later, I'm wide awake. At midnight. Yippee.

I feel like shit right now. No, that's not it. I feel overwhelmed by something? My chest hurts and I'm struggling to breath. The anxiety is anxiety-ing. Over what? I don't know.

I don't have much to say. Doing "morning pages" is clearing my brain of clutter. I've got a long way to go before I finish clearing out the brainshit. Still, progress is progress. This week was peaceful. My work schedule was easy; no closing shifts, and got to leave an hour early. I wish I'd been told I could leave early on the dead days in January...as much as I appreciated the money, they didn't need me to be there. I keep refreshing the email for this week's schedule. AAARRGGHH. I keep thinking I hear my phone buzz. I just want to know what's going on!!!

As I write this, I'm listening through Lady Gaga's discography. I wasn't allowed to listen to her when I was younger (though Katy Perry was a-okay...). I've been hooked on her latest album (especially Abracadabra), so I decided to listen through all of her other music. I've heard enough of it before (Bad Romance, Paparazzi, Donatella). I like getting to place this music in its context. I've been shuffling to the music from Mayhem. Speaking of shuffling: started filming myself to get a better understanding of how my movements look. Picking apart my movements to understand how I could improve is fun. This isn't like playing clarinet, where I can hear the problem and fix it. I spend time learning a move, then video myself to figure out what's going on/wrong. Sometimes my moonwalk looks good. I'm struggling with fluid transitions between movements. My running man doesn't look great. I'm thinking too much, and it shows. I think that's one that'll get better with time. I want to dance on pavement, but I don't know a good place to. In this city, spending a couple minutes in the same spot draws attention. My shitty dance practices would attract more unwanted attention. I could use the basement, but I'm not sure what goes on down there. I don't want to increase my risk of running into the downstairs people. I realize I don't understand the language they're speaking---buzz! goes the phone, finally---but I feel like I'm overhearing an unhealthy relationship. Guy raises his voice and yells, stomps, hits things, slams things, and talks over gal; gal is quiet, says a few words here and there. But I tend to misread situations, so I have no idea what's going on. I'm probably overthinking this. Then they move to another room, and it's the dance music and weed for a few hours (which was a thing before she moved in).

And the work schedule goes up. I haven't worked with — in a few months; I hope she's changed...and by changed, I mean "will respond when I repeat my question the third or fourth time, while asking her for a verbal response." Usually, I have to repeat myself five or six times, clarifying that I need a verbal response, and not getting one until I raise my voice. So :| The bar for her is so goddamn low, and she fails/failed (hopeful past tense) to surpass it. Only got 27-28hr this week. I hope they get my pay figured out soon. I have enough in savings to make up for the potential loss. That's...that's what it is. Very glad I didn't move somewhere else. Can't afford better.

If nothing is concrete by the end of the month, I'm going to start looking for a second job. This instability isn't working out. That way, when my lease is almost over, I can afford to keep paying rent here while working on moving out. I've learned that saying "I'm looking to move ASAP" is a red flag for landlords...yet they also _want_ you to move in ASAP. So I need to be prepared to spend most of my monthly income on rent for two-three months. Lovely.

Had a brew day/night on Friday. I started a mead with lemongrass and galanga, as well as a kilju(?) with pineapple and mint. More details are on the brewing page. When I have a carboy free again, I want to make another batch of tea wine. This stuff is so drinkable. If I weren't saving some for coworkers, I wouldn't struggle to drink the entire batch.

I was looking at taking summer classes. Applied Stats would be useful for finishing my degree. A history class would be useful for filling in blanks, and I want to take one of the classes, but is that the best use of my money? I can't afford to spend that much on something frivolous. Stick to books. Remember how shitty the conversations with classmates actually were. You don't have money to spend on a chance. I mean to go over what I need to do to finish my degree. I could take one class per semester---drag it out, but for my disinterest, it could be a compromise. At least then I'd be able to say I had a degree. And, at that pace, I could graduate debt-free. hahaha.

Made plans with — and she cancelled, but rescheduled. She hasn't responded to my messages since then. I messaged her on two different days, and gave her a timeframe for today that'd work for me. And...no response. I don't want to send her my schedule for this week. "FYI, I'm not working on Wednesday, wanna hang out?" for more disappointment. I just want someone to go out and do things with. She sounded excited about going to places, and had places she wanted to go. Do I go and do the things on my own? This option isn't appealing. I'll go out of my way / comfort zone for other people, but if it's just for me, a rideshare app or long walk ain't worth it. Maybe she decided to travel last-minute and hasn't had the time to let me know. She does love study abroad classes; there might be one during Spring break. I'm grasping for reasons. The truth is probably that she doesn't want to hang out with me. Why did she spend so much time saying she missed me, and that we should do this more often? I'm not sure what the appropriate response is to this.

I want to do things with someone. Conversation is the best I can get, but that's not what I want. So now I'm drinking homebrew wine out of a yogurt container while watching CMVs and listening to Lady Gaga. (I just reached Artpop...I know I hear people saying this album wasn't well received, but it is such a bop! Loving the beat of every song. And I rarely enjoy music with lyrics that focus on sex). (I got distracted watching CMVs while grabbing the videos for the list below this paragraph. I think I want to watch Hazbin Hotel, if only to get context for these CMVs. Or I'll just start reading "Radioapple" fanfic. Wouldn't be the first time I read fanfic without knowing the source material).

Some videos I watched this week, which I enjoyed:

• gardenscapes was not supposed to be mobile slop and i have the proof - what a throwback. I thought my memories of the computer game were the Mandela effect. Nope. 'Twas real.
• Masochism Tango - humorous choreography. I wish I knew how to tango; it looks fun.
• Too Sweet | A RadioApple CMV - reminds me of a deleted Hannibal House of Memories CMV. I'm unfamiliar with the source material, but I enjoyed the acting, set design, and lighting.

I find myself wanting to push myself into extreme minimalism. I worry about losing my room---I signed no lease, only an agreement over text, first, and last rent paid. Something is stressing me out---what, myself?---and my instinct is to take it out on my environment. I'm going to use this desire to declutter to use up stray ingredients. It's a good week to push myself through the odds & ends in my fridge and on the shelves. I think I have enough food to last until Saturday (I did groceries last Wednesday). There's meal-prep leftovers in my freezer. Gotta eat them sometime. Gonna make now that sometime. Oooh, speaking of food, I decided to try Prime Bites. A Youtuber I watch (bruhloony) keeps mentioning them...they're sugar-free and have 15g of protein. This is the first time I've ordered something a Youtuber kept mentioning (hahaha), and I'm excited. I never order food online. Seems like a waste of money. But my grocery store lacks shelf-stable convenience (semi)health options. This costs less than using a rideshare or grocery delivery service.

I'm going to post this and finish watching the Helluva Boss s2 finale. And finish off this container of wine. I didn't sanitize this container (needed more bottles than I had). But it tastes fine, and has only been there for...not even two days. So it's probably fine.

I feel physical symptoms of anxiety. I am noticing that I feel physical symptoms of anxiety. I am noticing that my chest hurts and my breaths are shallow. I am noticing that I'm thinking about work again. I'm noticing I'm fixating on a trend in a coworker's mistakes. I'm noticing I'm comparing how different coworkers were trained. I'm noticing —

I was scrolling through a meditation subreddit and saw a screenshot about distancing yourself from your thoughts. Feeling something becomes noticing you're feeling something becomes noticing your noticing. I (think I) don't understand the final layer of detachment. I wonder if rephrasing "I feel" as "I notice I feel" will make a difference. I want to keep this rephrasal in mind. If it makes a difference, great; if not, I'll learn why it didn't make a difference. What are you thinking/hoping to accomplish?—emotional stability. I don't like riding the emotion rollercoaster. It creates problems, and I do not want to create problems. I want to manage the problem before it escapes my head and impacts reality. I need to.

We are two months into the year. What's happened. I created a few small projects (see the studio). I'm not pleased with my amount of creative practice, or rate of having ideas and following through. Morning pages are helping me rebuild the habit; I hope regular practice will bear fruit. I started brewing. A package of yeast for rice wine arrived yesterday; I'll put it to use soon. I have read books...but nothing significant. I'm working on improving my eating habits and eating more. I'm trying to improve my meal prep routine. I dance inconsistently. (I notice I have no routine & practice irregularly). I'm not pleased. I want to be able to say I've done more than that. I want to have been able to say I finished that longer video and completed the storyboard for another video. I want to have been able to say I started learning 3D animation to make that video. I want to have been able to say I developed those lyrics into songs. I want to not be struggling with eating and emotions and work-life balance.

I copied positive song lyrics onto paper, and taped these papers to my walls. I hoped surrounding myself with better words would counteract my negative thoughts. I hoped the words would help me remember I can have a future where I do better. These words feel dishonest. I romanticize the tortured artist; I want to self-destruct. In my notebook, I can be myself. I want to write in my notebook. I write here out of a sense of obligation. I must tell the world I exist. I must hand over this representation of myself. For what?—to create the kind of website I want to read. I feel a sense of obligation. I see this as giving back; I want to read others' brainvomit, and it is right for me to let them read mine. Not doing so would be hypocritical.

Maybe returning to the calendar would make a difference. I (notice I) doubt it. Nothing occurs. Nothing changes. I pass through time, unconscious, wondering if this time---maybe this time---my latest idea will make a difference. It's gotta happen sometime, right?

I watched a video titled " Learning Things on YouTube is (secretly) Destroying You." This is a new (to me) take on contemporary isolation & lack of community. He focuses on how learning is a way to meet other people, and gives a few suggestions on how to meet others through learning. He's the first Youtuber I've seen passionately advocating for taking community college classes...for the fun of it. (Shocking, right?) He also draws an appropriate parallel between Zoomschool and current online learning. We agreed Zoomschool wasn't great for learning, yet we hop onto watching videos to learn things? Hmmm....

I wonder if online hobby communities are a valid argument. Yes, people do meet each other online, and participate in online communities. Some of these communities do / must alleviate isolation. However, most of us are lurkers! By lurking, we don't get the full benefits of online community. "Online community" becomes "online." I do think the wide demographics of online hobby communities makes it difficult to develop a community. There's the questions noobs ask---we were all new once---constantly popping up, alongside longtime hobbyists who are tired of seeing noob questions. Sometimes the oldtimers are interested in noobs; sometimes they just want to be around people who are at the same stage as them. The internet allows these demographics to constantly clash with each other.

Freeze Your Brain - MissyAsylum - I love how she transitions between what the characters are doing and what they're thinking/feeling. She's also put a lot of thought into how the characters are moving / dancing. They aren't standing still...they're acting. I'm watching her other Heathers animatics; they're just as good. She uses colors to emphasize the tone of the song / atmosphere. Yo Girl included great visuals of the Heathers (they're there, without being there).

After work, I went to a nearby boba place. I had a blueberry slushy with coconut jelly. That hit the spot. I was their 33rd customer...seven hours after they opened for the day. Ooof (for them). It's a nice spot, good atmosphere.

I tried a dish my coworkers love. Didn't get the hype. It paired well with the lime sauce <3

I've started writing three pages first thing in the morning. I know these have been popularized as "the morning pages," which is an exercise from the book The Artist's Way. I haven't read The Artist's Way. I think this works well for my stress / anxiety. Writing in the morning is a way for me to deal with all the brainshit. Cleaning out the gears. Sometimes I write down my dreams! Journaling about my dreams is something I've never gotten into the habit of. I'll try to, and I'll break the habit (before it's even formed). But when I'm braindumping / stream-of-conscious-ing, I can write about my dreams (if they come to mind). I like this. I wake up, drink some water, use the bathroom, and I want to go and write my morning pages. I think writing on paper helps me chill. Pen & paper take more time than typing.

Saw this video & immediately thought coquette.

She looks up from the floor. The clock across the room reads 9:49; pm, according to the darkness. Where did the time go? She's lost a few hours; why did she let the time go? Her notebook reads of new attempts to re-invent herself. She realizes she'll have lived another year and accomplished nothing of self-worth. This is arbitrary, she remembers.

Her posture curves, straightens. She checks her phone. She messaged someone twelve hours ago. No response. She wants to write again: i'm shit and you don't know half of it. Please hang out with me. She reads and thinks about another stranger. She could send him a short story; he wouldn't care, she thinks, and after the last message it'd be awkward. She remembers someone else. What'd happen if she emailed him? What could there be to say? Hey, she thinks, and she imagines a response. Maybe he'd ask why. Maybe he'd ignore her. Would he shit on her? She'd be on edge for days, wondering if he'd respond. The temptation is strong.

She shakes her head and returns to her books. Any purely structural understanding of Jacobinism which lacks a philosophical grounding...¹ and the words slip out of her mind. She picks up another book. Heidegger's analysis of man's being is not concerned with the opinions one has about things and man, but with letting things and man appear primordially as they are.² She is falling asleep and the words have lost her. She's been reading the same two volumes for the past week. How embarrassing. Her chest hurts; the walls fall towards her. She contemplates a world where she walks outside. The midnight people walk towards her; their midnight faces join the black night. Her face, hidden beneath a ball-cap and face-mask, join their midnight faces. Where are they walking to? She turns the corner and slips on the ice, her fingers scraping against rocks as she tries to catch herself. She is on her side. She sits up, pushing herself forward until her feet meet concrete. Where will she go. Why. The convenience store will be sparse. She hears screams; she shouldn't be out here. An ambulance turns the corner. Near the hospital, there are always ambulances. Her bladder makes its presence known. She's barely left the house; must she wander home so soon? A car zooms by, well above the 25mph speed limit, and the bass that erupts from it disappears as quickly as it appeared. Across the street is a dimly-lit man holding a cigarette. His breath is visible. She goes home, shuffling her feet to prevent slipping. The key slips into the lock with ease. There is no strangeness here tonight.

¹ The Frozen Revolution: An Essay on Jacobinism - Ferenc Feher - pg51
² Martin Heidegger: A First Introduction to His Philosophy - Joseph Kockelmans - pg134

Time to take stock of what I've been doing & make ~another~ plan for my future. Lovely. Really, really doing a great job on following through with the things I tell myself I'll do.

Interests (of various states of coming and going):

History

I'm enjoying the concreteness of history. By reading history books, I get to read & think about the real world! This is in stark contrast to philosophy, which is only a way of interpreting the world. (Philosophy influences the real world, but it isn't the real world). One thing I like about reading about the French Revolution is seeing how the FR has been re-interpreted. I don't think people re-interpreted it to consciously fuel a particular agenda; historians found an interpretation that fit it and went with that. Bosher's book contemplated there being a psychological aspect to the FR; I'd like to find a book on that. I also want to finish the Jacobinism essay (I'm 1/3 of the way through it). I also saw a book on the sans-culotte at my library; I don't have a great understanding of the term, so I want to read that book to understand it. What I've been reading tells me that Lefebreve's and Rude's books on the FR follow the socialist interpretation. While they're significant books, I'd like to hold off on reading them until I have a handle on what happened. Then I won't be swayed by a convenient explanation.

Notice how alive you felt while writing that paragraph. You don't understand the FR, but you want to. You see a word and want to read a book about what it means. You're making plans without consciously choosing to make a plan. You're seeing a connection between philosophy + literature and history, and you're prioritizing the history over the philosophy (concrete > in-concrete). You don't instinctively think "this is too difficult to understand / I'm struggling to get this / am I an idiot? Why don't I get this?" You're thinking you can spend a few months reading and develop a better understanding of the topic. You don't see it as a slog; you see it as necessary. While reading philosophy, you think: I should take notes on this to understand it. While reading history, you think: I want to take notes on this to understand it. Notice the difference.

Tarot

I am so bad at using tarot on a regular basis. I'll get into the rhythm of it, and then I'll abandon it. I love the oracle deck I have; it's an easy way to see personalities in the cards. What personality do I need to listen to today; what traits do I need to keep in mind today.

What role do I want tarot to play in my life? What do I want to get out of it? Hmm...tarot challenges me to think. It forces me to re-frame a particular situation, which can give me the opportunity to understand a situation. From this perspective, tarot is a conversation partner. Oh, I hadn't thought of it that way.

Philosophy

To me, philosophy has a form of mysticism. Why do I keep wanting to read Heidegger? "He was mentioned in HoL" isn't my answer. I'm interested in his wordplay. He re-purposes words and creates new ones to explain what he means. Am I more interested in the way he thinks than what he says? Hmm. How we (ab)use language to communicate is of interest. Think of this in literature, in HoL! The introduction to Derrida's book hints at language abuse; maybe it is my next step. I care not for universal being, but for individual being. Heidegger is/not of interest, hahaha. (And by saying that, I revisit my old self: how shall I abuse language & syntax to portray what I mean? Ambiguity and confusion are my goal. If my reader is confused, my reader gets the point; my objective is accomplished. How I let one person sway me into abandoning my principles no longer matters. He is gone; I am what remains.)

I eye the books on my nightstand. Do I finish the book on Heidegger, for the sake of following through?—what a poor reason! The Hegel books are a different matter...I keep seeing his name on the internet, in the philosophy books, and in the history books. He is a mystery to me. And then the Derrida book, which I thought I'd put off, takes priority: it is of direct meaning to me.

House of Leaves

The desire to video is growing worse. I want to encapsulate Johnny's experience. He, not the house, not Pelafina, not Zampano, is my interest. I love his stream of consciousness and his confusion and his psychology. He's desperately losing his mind; trying to rationalize and find something to cling to.

I ask myself what I want to do tomorrow, and immediately respond: I do not want there to be a tomorrow. I don't miss six-day weeks, but I do miss having a reason for my fatigue. Now I am the reason. What the fuck is this. On Tuesday, I completed something, and then what? I fall down. I reject the concept of getting back up. The answer is to have a time when I do not fall for an extended period of time; I fight against falling, instead of treating it as inevitable.

Work—I need to not sit around after work.

Where does all my time go? After work, I continued reading The Frozen Revolution. I spent my morning on it too. The author has focused on different interpretations of the French Revolution (abbreviated FR). He's discussed British & French (re-)interpretations of the FR, and what historians contributed to these interpretations. He, like many other historians, takes the time to discount a socialist-turned-Marxist interpretation of the FR. The next chapter is on the role of the assignat (new currency) during the FR; I'll read it when I'm awake. The assignat was mentioned in passing in previous FR books, so an entire chapter on this "surprisingly overlooked" (author's words) aspect is of interest.

I'd watched a self-improvement video where the speaker noted that he'd been watching all of these self-help Youtubers and realized he could be like them. This realization is what helped him finally help himself. I wonder what would happen if I gorged myself on self-help videos. Would I accomplish anything meaningful? What do I need to do to believe there is something worthwhile for me to become?

I'm watching an anime titled "I'm Quitting Heroing." The main character has learned and become unimaginably powerful. I envy characters who have learned and become specialists in their craft. I think of Akemi Homura, from Madoka Magika; she's a powerful character who had the drive to become strong. Not the drive; she had a person-reason to become strong for. Why am I not my own person-reason? Why am I not my why?—and I hear them say: you're not worthwhile. Everybody else is worth more than you. Why should we spend time on you, when there are other people to spend time on? You need to be self-sufficient. Stop being greedy. Stop asking for attention. You're a waste of our time. You're less important than other people. You're a waste you're a waste you're a waste.—and how does that inform my thoughts? I go to the grocery store and think: I don't deserve to eat. I shouldn't spend money on this (myself). unworthy unworthy unworthy. keep to yourself and be, think, do nothing, lest others be made aware of your existence. you don't matter. I don't care why I'm like this. How do I turn it off? "it's okay to want to eat," and I'm going to cry. "it's okay to like fish sticks," and I'm interested in eating lunch. "it's okay."

I'm fading from reality. I cannot enact, do not engage. I retreat into who-the-fuck-knows-what. The Citadel is a ghost town. Ralph is dead. My attempt to create another world failed. The air reeks of blood and I am alone. A scythe scrapes against the floor. Soon, death will come for me. These academic halls, which I thought were the answer, are quiet. The people are dead. I poke through their dorms, wondering who these people were. There are bloodstains but no bodies. Who used them, I wonder. For what. The ground shakes. I fear the answer. No, I don't think twice about the answer. I will flee. This world has been laid to waste, and so I must move on to the next one. I could return to the house. I think of its castle walls, the typewriter-filled ballroom, V and Professor Abbacus and Hannibal and Harley and Alice and Koroko Sensei and Karma and Nagisa and Lan Wangji. Them slaving away. V's desperate attempts to teach us of dance, of culture, of what has been banished. Them working towards perfecting themselves and trying to get me to understand. Come here, do this, practice this. You can if you try, but you won't, you don't. I put away the green-blue stone chamber. I see my tiny room, with its loft bed, desk, and computer; I see the pink room, with the princess bed and an old man who I do not want to see. I find the Latin room: a, ae, ae, am, long a; ae, arum, is, as, is. us, i, o, um, long o; i, orum, is, os, is; — is, i, em, e; es, um, ibus, es, ibus. I will find something else. There is the hall with the mirror. There are cobwebs everywhere. The mirror cracks. The world is black. Where am I, I ask, and I'm in the forest. Bill sticks out his hand and asks if I'm ready to make a deal. I shake his hand. The world fades to white. Can you tell me who you are / can you tell me where I am / I've forgotten how to see / I've forgotten if I can. I slap someone; why the fuck are you so ignorant to what you tell me.

Where am I to go. What am I to do. How do I disable these parts of my mind and be. Be-ing without thinking. Being and only being. Being at its base---existing in time, having a definition, being representative of a concept? This is too much. I think of House of Leaves: I must read, I must read, I must read.

then what do you actually want from others? For the minutiae of their lives to be interesting. Sometimes the unknowns are tantalizing---how do you live, let me absorb every detail until I understand you. For me to be able to be more than a conversation partner to them. With, with, with. Reading; if only I'd someone to read with, and we were to try to penetrate philosophy together. Where's the thread that ties us together. Why are you so willing to put up with me, when I don't care about you, and how can I turn this into a two-way thing. Why am I so disinterested? I don't crave a person, I crave what people have with each other; I crave their experiences.

I'm trapped in the stone chamber. I press my palm to a wall; there's a layer of slimy grime. I shudder and wipe my hand off on my shirt. I have no choice. I have only a bookshelf and a bed. I must read. I must read. I must read.

Why am I always so goddamn emotional? My family always told me I'm emotionally unstable. There's normal 'oh, females are always so emotional,' and then I manage to exceed that. I'm volatile and unpredictable and unreliable. What the fuck am I supposed to do. How do I disable this. My emotions are in charge, not me, just like how my anxiety is in charge, and not me. I want to be in charge. I want to have a say in my life. I'm denying myself the right. I'm letting my emotions deny my rights.

I can watch all of you guys having your get togethers, your hang outs, the way y'all are so familiar with each other. You seek out each other; it isn't one-sided, there are two sides to it. And then I have my get-togethers with one or two of you, a handful of different people and a handful of different times, at it turns into nothing. As if it never happened. Of course I'm jealous. You guys meet each other, talk a few times, and become friends. I meet you, we talk a few times, try to hang out, and then I end up alone. And that's a constant theme in my life. No matter what I do, nothing pans out. I message fifty-some people about room listings, I see three, and nothing pans out. You can go on about how I didn't try hard enough as much as you want. I don't fucking care anymore. I message every god-damn opportunity, and trying gets me nowhere. I'm begging and nobody will hear me. I'm alone. I'm always alone. I don't expect things to be easy, stop telling me I do, I expect that things will pan out within a few months. Not things, just something. Instead? Everything stays the same. I end up alone. I'm so tired of hearing you tell me it's because I'm not trying. I can't conjure up room postings. I've responded to every single one of them. I've followed up. When given the chance, I've seen the room. I can't conjure up people to hang out with; I can invite people all I want, I can't make them respond. They always have other people to hang out with. I'm nobody's other person. I don't even know what I want. I've always been alone. I wouldn't know what it means to have a friend. I'm envious of y'alls gatherings. You sound like you're having fun. You're trying food with people and going places with people. You're hanging out with other people. You got to know someone and it evolved into something. I get to know someone and things don't click. The real people aren't interested in me. The rare internet person is, but I seem incapable of forming connections with internet people. I seem incapable of forming connections with people and internet people represent an exacerbation of this difficulty.

I want to vomit. Everything is my responsibility. The mistakes others make, regardless of whether or not I see them, regardless of whether or not I'm working, are my mistake. I don't know how to get them to listen to me. Well, I don't know how to get them to respect me, and I don't know how to hold them accountable. I can tell them things as much as I want to. It isn't enough. I don't know what else to do. I wish I had options. Scheduling issues meant my boss had to work with two people who he doesn't usually work with. He is suddenly aware of how much they suck. Now I'm the one who's failed to whip them into shape. I'm not responsible for training people (deflection). Telling them what to do & (micro)managing them hasn't gotten anywhere (deflection). They don't listen to me (deflection). What the fuck else am I supposed to do? I don't want more responsibilities. I want to work a shift and go the fuck home without feeling responsible for however my coworkers behave when I'm not around. I think my coworkers have some respect for me; when I'm sitting around after my shift, they keep asking me questions. So...they listen to me when they want to, but not when I need them to. And even then they don't remember what I tell them & keep it in mind for the future. I answer the same question from the same person four times in a week. They don't do their jobs. I haven't figured out how to change that. I can improve their job avoidance when I'm on the clock, but that isn't enough. They don't want to work.

I write this out and want to scream. I understand his frustration. I am also frustrated. I've been bashing my head against the wall & he's suddenly very aware of why. I'd say "I don't know why he has to keep making everything seem like my responsibility," but...I mean look at how much time I spend there. Someone who is there full-time, who you rely on to be responsible, needs to not make mistakes. Because if I'm making mistakes and the shit-heads are making mistakes...well. The team is weak. Not a team. There is this vague problem and I don't know how to solve it. And I'm the perfect person to hear about it.

That sounds like something a warrior would do, he says.

I'm not. It's pointless and I don't want to spend my time on that. I hate the idea---why the fuck should I dedicate all of my free time to something I'm not interested in?

It's better than doing what you're currently doing. You know that. We both know that. What happened to striving to do better? You need to do this.

I can't describe how much I don't want to. Why not spend my time on all the other things I want to do.

Then do that.

I don't want to. How's the priest going?

You're deflecting...I don't know how to be one. Your archetype is easy: hard work and perseverance. Mine is...a different kind of faithfulness and perseverance. I don't know what I want to do. What have I to be faithful towards?

You can start a new religion. Then you don't have to find one that aligns with your values. You start it, you're faithful in it being successful, you're forced to work on it and spread it. You're a literal Priest!...do you know how the other Priests live?

They read the kind of books you read, he says. The ones that talk about existence. Vague philosophical things. Meditations. So many meditations. They're waiting, and believe that their meaningless work will become something better. I don't get it. They try to understand life without engaging with it. Why think about what relationships can be like instead of experiencing them for yourselves? They try to understand existence from a distance. What's existing, if not trying new things and being around other people? They're content to dissect definitions. They're frustrating.

So what are you doing instead?

He waves a hand. A bit of this and that. Nothing that goes anywhere.

Constant work on something is a recurring theme, I say. For both of us.

Can you imagine being in the Court, Ralph asks, and I shake my head. I can't imagine leaving the Troupe. We must renounce ourselves, he says. That's the goal. The Troupe is bad for us. You have no choice. Neither do you, and I know you won't follow through. That's what both of us are here for, he reminds us. I'm here to make you listen. You're here to make me listen. Together, we'll make our lives better or worse. But it'll be together, so it's worth it.

I can see myself in the Crowd, he says. I could turn myself into a Muse. Do we evolve through the ranks, I ask. Do we move from the Troupe to the Crowd to the Academy to the Court. He frowns. We could. The Smith catches my eye, I admit, but I think we best continue onward. Would you like another glass?

Well then, he says with a laugh. A Warrior and a Muse. A Warrior and her Muse. You could be more than a Muse, I suggest. A Muse is an evolved Runaway. We will reject the Runaway. Work harder. You could be my Sentinel. No, he says, not a Sentinel. A Priest. An Acolyte. You'll be a Priest, I say. A Priest and a Warrior. Two halves to a whole.

Our archetypes wouldn't engage in this rendezvous. I agree. They would be in bed by now. They've learned not to be night owls. Even on a Saturday night? It's Sunday morning. I think...they'd want to enjoy their Sunday off. They wouldn't want to live with the sideways sleep schedule. They'd have had their fun during their normal waking hours. And then they'd have gone to sleep. Very well, then, he says. I shall bid you adieu, dear Nobody. Farewell, Ralph.

So my new life-changing plan is to *drumroll* work on eating enough food and drinking enough water each day. I ate ~1200cal yesterday and felt sick. I don't usually eat that much. And internet calculators are telling me I need to be eating ~2400cal a day. This is going to be a challenge. Drinking enough water will be easier. I do some days, but not every day. Maybe this will clear my lethargy. I told one of my coworkers that I'd used some websites & found out I was undereating, and he nearly face-palmed. I don't need a website to know that, he says. You don't eat.

Yeah...undereating didn't occur to me until now. My plan? Uh. I'll add rice or cauliflower rice to appropriate meals. I'll make an egg bake for breakfasts; I can have eggs and a can of fruit. My go-to can of fruit is only 150cal :(. But it's cheap! I'll always eat dinner. Maybe I'll eat pasta? *reluctantly pokes at carbs & processed foods* I don't know how to feed myself. But I'm gonna do more of it!!!

Whenever I try to change things again, I'm resigned to failing. What makes this time different, I ask myself. I shrug. Nothing has changed. Well, this approach is different. I'm optimistic about how this will turn out. I'll need to drag myself to _not_ see food as the enemy.

Current library books:

• Martin Heidegger: A First Introduction to His Philosophy - Joseph Kockelmans - very approachable. I want to devour it when I get home from work.
• The Frozen Revolution: An Essay on Jacobinism - Ferenc Feher - the French Revolution book I read didn't give me a clear idea of who the Jacobins were. I think this essay will rectify that.
• Hegel's Concept of Experience - Martin Heidegger trans. Harper & Row - while I abandoned Heidegger's volume on Nietzsche, I still thought it'd be interesting to see what he has to say about another philosopher. Everybody mentions Hegel, so...Hegel it is.
• Of Grammatology - Jacques Derrida trans. Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak - the man himself. I may put this off a while longer. Derrida seems to be a consequence of philosophers I don't have enough familiarity with. I need to put together a new reading list to figure out what gaps in my knowledge I want to address & their chronology. Heidegger sure drew on the Greeks.
• Science of Logic - Hegel trans. WH Johnston & LG Struthers - I think this is the next 'big' work I'm going to tackle. On a whim. Because other philosophers keep referencing him. Flipping through it makes me wonder if Kant is necessary to understand it; seems like Kant is the prerequisite to all philosophers after him. I don't mean to exaggerate. The books and philosophers I read of keep mentioning him.

I think I've been overzealous in the books I'm grabbing. Hmm. Plan of attack: alternate between Heidegger intro & Jacobinism (when grow weary). Then start attacking Heidegger's Hegel, then Hegel. While clearing volume 1 of Hegel, work on creating next reading list. Save Derrida; I don't think I've learned enough to understand his context.

Hmm. My tone is different. The urge to isolate and remove myself from life is still there. But I'm trying to not bury myself in my room, and maybe I'm making progress on that? I'm pushing this update and leaving for work. Ciao for now.

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This sounds like a twist on the 'How is your life Cyberpunk' posts.

I really wish people would stop trying to call themselves Cyberpunks, but instead, start calling themselves Cyberpunk Artists.

Cyberpunk is a genre, and it's a fucking great genre, where anything that includes tech and rebellion can make an artistic statement.

You want to make some kind of electronic culture jamming art installation all over some corporations head office? That's pretty fucking Cyberpunk.

You want to make your own wearable tech, that's pretty fucking Cyberpunk.

Even making your own clothes, music, stories, comics, paintings and propaganda is Cyberpunk as fuck.

Go out and make cell phone darknets so protesters can get pics of the cops beating on them to the media. THAT is Cyberpunk.

Stop trying to BE Cyberpunk, and start trying to MAKE Cyberpunk. It's not a lifestyle. It's the fight against authority taking place 20 minutes from now, that's going on in your head. All we can do is show one another what we think that looks like.

I'm sick of looking at my computer, so I'm writing this in my notes app. I've been journaling in my notebook. There are fewer things to say here. I'm writing in circles and telling myself new lies. What makes this time different? An evolved past. At most. No, so little has changed. I'm a series of broken promises. I've been writing affirmations. When I'm writing affirmations, I feel positive about myself. I don't carry this positivity beyond that. Writing affirmations has helped me develop a better sense of my identity. I haven't made the progress I want to make. I want to vanquish this stilted demeanor. I need to keep telling myself I'm allowed to want things. When I pay attention to my thoughts, I notice I keep telling myself I can't try things, shouldn't eat/do certain things, dislike things, should like things, and don't want to do things. I think "I want a taro slush" and counter it with "weather is freezing, and it's sweet, I shouldn't have that, and I wouldn't like it anyways." No...I would enjoy the taro slush. Just because I want it doesn't mean I'm going to go out and buy it, but I don't need to deny that I want it. I want it and I won't have it, not I don't actually want it.

I finished 007 today. Realized there is an 006 which I can go edit. I want to get 008 done this month. I have the content and not the structure. If I can finish three projects in February, I'll feel like I've made tangible progress. I'll update The Minotaur before the end of the month. What'll it include? We shall see...hopefully more than one new project.

I'm getting a hang of the running man. I'll go back to shuffle tutorials and figure out what to learn next. I have a handle on the move; now I need to work on my endurance when I want to keep it up for a longer period of time. When I'm moving to music, I'll be fine for a minute, and then I start to rush and stumble over myself. But it's something I can improve on. I'm having fun. I don't like how out of breath I get, but I'm ill and do very little cardio. Another thing to improve on.

Discourse on Thinking, by Martin Heidegger, is composed of two parts. The first section is the memorial address he gave at a celebration of composer Conradin Kreutzer in 1955. The second part, titled "Conversation on a Country Path," is a dialogue which elaborates on the concepts presented in the memorial address. While reading the memorial address, I was reminded of contemporary issues. He references a flight from thinking, overvaluation of calculative thinking, and an overvaluation of effortless pleasure. In doing so, he manages to foreshadow the extent to which contemporary society has fled from meditative thinking.

Heidegger defines calculative thinking as computing possibilities. He gives examples in regards to sciences and the economy, such as the development of the hydrogen bomb, atomic energy, and fuel sources. His definition of meditative thinking is less precise. Meditative thinking is rooted in reflection, "releasment towards things," and "openness to the mystery."

"Man today is in flight from thinking" (pg45) can be related to contemporary social media usage. Algorithms choose what users will see. Algorithms create a profile of the user to understand the user's tastes. Because of this, users do not need to think. Users don't need to consider what they like and don't like, or what they'd like to look into. Their ecosystem of choice---be it TikTok, Facebook, Instagram, etc.---does the work for them. Users need not have a personality or hobbies. Their social media does it for them. "Mindless consumption" may be an overused term, but it is accurate. Users are trapped in a cycle of thoughtless content consumption. This cycle re-enforces itself; why break free when 'happiness' is right there? Social media provides no incentive to engage in calculative or meditative thinking. Social media also represents a flight from thinking because it has replaced boredom. Instead of sitting with one's thoughts---the first step to engaging in any kind of thinking---one pulls out their phone and consumes. Users of social media have rendered thinking obsolete. They do not need to think. Contemporary abuse of social media represents a completion of what Heidegger spoke of in 1955. Social media companies have encouraged a flight from thinking, and users have fled appropriately.

When Heidegger proposes man's flight from thinking, he brings up a simple rebuttal: "there were at no time such far-reaching plans, so many inquiries in so many areas, research carried on as passionately as today" (pg45). One may repeat the same statement today. With constant research and (scientific) development, how can one say we are in flight from thinking? Calculative thinking has resulted in the development of AI. Calculative thinking has allowed people to create a tool to complete the flight from thinking. Why think, when AI will be able to do so for us. Generative AI may be the worst offender of thinking. Why create, which is to engage in what makes us human, when AI can do so for us? Why seek out new content that may be interesting, when AI can create interesting content for us? Society has begun to offload thinking onto computers in the name of efficiency. While calculative thinking is valued in today's world, and is leading to a constant improvement in understanding the world, it still represents a flight from meditative thinking. AI, a display of the powers of calculative thinking, is a tool which allows users to flee from thinking altogether.

How can this flight from thinking be countered? Heidegger proposes an ambivalent relationship to technology: use them, but "let them alone as something which does not affect our inner and real core. We can affirm the unavoidable use of technical devices, and also deny them the right to dominate us, and so to warp, confuse, and lay waste to our nature." This relationship represents his idea of "releasment towards things." By using technology, understanding one's relationship with technology, and not allowing technology---a tool to fly from thought---to control one's life, one begins to engage in meditative thinking. To counter the flight from thinking, one must understand how they have fled from thinking---the first step to thinking!---and reject their flight from thinking. Then one will be able to engage in thinking and being.

New Citadel students receive their archetypes today. I am designated the title of Runaway. One other student, a mouse named Ralph, receives the same designation. We meet and exchange greetings. You've skipped a few classes too?, he asks. I'm taller than him; the top of his head reaches my shoulder. I nod. I'm not handling the structure well, I say. I'm not very interested in it. Well, I like the idea, but...

He nods. How dare they expect anything of us, he proclaims. I can't help but laugh. I know, we're hypocrites. We can rise above our archetypes, he suggests. There's no such thing as destiny, I agree. But I need to leave soon. Perhaps we could discuss this later. We can pick new archetypes and force ourselves to become them. No, we will develop into them, he says, and we shall wear their masks. What's more like a Runaway than to runaway from oneself? I nod. I'm working until 10pm, are you free then? Yes, I am. Can we meet at Troupe Grounds? Sure, I'll be there then. In the back. It's obvious, but it'll match. We're not supposed to do this. No, it's that it isn't recommended. Additional challenges need not occur. Especially for runaways; we don't take up the challenge as is. To set ourselves a new one...

Well, it's worth a shot. We're already the lowest of the low. What's the worst that can happen? We could make ourselves worse, I say. People like us our good at doing that. He nods. Well, if we make each other worse, at least we do it together. I like his decisiveness. I must head out, I say. So: Troupe Grounds, 10pm, bring archetype deck. He winks. Yes. See you later. Au revoir.

Yesterday. — brought us burgers, and I didn't realize one was for me. I figured it was food that was up for grabs. Everybody else would want one, so I was fine not having one. I wanted one. I'd built the last burger up (in my head) as something I want but can't have. I don't need it; someone else wants it, and I shouldn't be greedy. It isn't mine. — insists I go on break; I relent, not realizing he meant for me to take the burger and go on break. Cue odd discussion where I say I'll have it for dinner. I was hungry and I was confused. I could eat the burger? He'd bought it for me? Why would someone give me a whole piece of food---not just a bite, but an entire burger?

Journal excerpt:

We're closest to static when dead. We decompose, and others thoughts of us may change.

I can create a between-world. The Citadel is one. My current daydreams are an alternate/parallel world. I can let the Citadel evolve into something I want to exist in, and something I do exist in.

I can do that? I can have likes and dislikes, and I don't need to stop at being grateful for having anything at all? I can have a preference for how I like something to be cooked? I can say "I think the bacon was better before it was re-fried"?I can want/expect things to be different, and not just be happy to be a part of things?

There is a MOUSE in my bathroom.

"You're getting really into this [brewing]." I guess. The effort seems worth it; putting in the effort intrigues me. My motto might as well be "fuck around and find out." Brewing seems like a good hobby for this. Put together an idea, implement it, find out what happens. I'm drafting up a mead using coconut and coffee; I'll make cold brew later this week. I want the nutty + buttery flavors of the coconut to come through. I think coffee will work; I have a dark roast which does have a nutty flavor to it. Maybe it'll give me what I'm looking for?

Not that I know what I'm looking for. I racked the tea wine and tasted it. I can smell alcohol and fruit. All I taste is fruit. I wasn't able to get an original gravity reading. I don't know the alcohol content. The mead is still fermenting; in the one video I'd watched (for a capsicumel), fermentation took more than two months. Back to the tea wine---I wish the alcohol taste was stronger. Maybe it needs to sit longer? I am worried that temperature impacted fermentation. Did some of the yeast die early. Temperature fluctuations and whatnot. But damn, for bread yeast + tea + sugar, it tastes very good.

I want to make rice wine next (makgeoli?). Once I have enough of a list to justify ordering from Amazon, I'll buy the yeast to make it. I think I'm going to order more carboys (in the future). I have four; I need to keep one free (for racking), so I can only have three things brewing at a time. I want to do more, damnit!

"You're always grumpy. And you're mean"---more or less what one employer and several coworkers are saying to me. Oh, it's 00:00. Hello, February 12.

I meant to learn how to make an app that would do a particular thing. I'd like to turn "The Aspirant" class into an app. There are daily lessons; each day is the meditation and journal entry. You must complete each day before you can move onto the next one. So...it's a diary + meditation app. How original. But it'd be fun to learn how, and to make something simple enough to fulfill my needs.

Thoughts are slipping through my fingertips. I want to write the "Discourse on Thinking" response essay; was outlining it a few hours ago. I want to add a voice to Vivarism's latest essay; I've referenced her XX shrine more times than I can count. I'm glad she had more to say, and I hope she keeps saying more.

Sorry. I, for once, feel obligated to let y'all know I'm still alive. I want to eradicate my being, and I know I need to fight and urge myself into an existence. So I'll push an update when I'd rather not be. Then I'll go back to reading and sleeping and dancing and brewing. Normal hobbies, heh.

Ciao for now,

View of face, while lying on side in bed. A grey blanket covers her body.

NARRATOR: Good morning, internet strangers...I'm tired and sick, so I don't know what I'm going to get done today. No work. No classes. This week, The Aspirant is expecting us to complete the work on our own time. I don't think meditation is for me---a natural response for someone who's struggling with it.

She sits up. There's a gray curtain behind her.

NARRATOR: When I roast peanuts at work, I'm counting a rhythm while moving the peanuts around. One...two...three...four.five. More like "trip-l-et trip-l-et trip-l-et one and two and." I was wholly focused on moving the peanuts. I wasn't daydreaming. That level of concentration (on a simple task) is what I aspire to when meditating. And I was able to keep that up for an hour, while still paying attention to the state of the peanuts. I think I need to find a way to meditate that works like that. Like training wheels for meditation!

NARRATOR yawns.

NARRATOR: ...fuck it. I'm tired. I'm sick. I have nothing scheduled. I'm going to go back to sleep.

SCENE: NARRATOR is sitting at a plastic gray table. There's a jar of writing implements in the corner. Her computer is open, though the screen is black. We can see a yellow wall in the background. Her bed, which is made, is also visible.

NARRATOR: so now it's the afternoon. I re-woke-up around ten, and I felt well-rested. So that was three more hours of sleep. I took a shower, watched some Youtube videos, sharpened knives [SCENE jumps to a ten-second clip of her sharpening a knife against a blue whetstone], folded dumplings, and cleaned. There's always cleaning! AAARRRGGHHH. [sighs]

SCENE: black screen.

NARRATOR: I wanted to show y'all what I've been working on for The Archer. My progress is embarrassing, but...well, here's where I'm at so far.

SCENE: NARRATOR stands on left side of the screen. Behind her is a yellow wall. There's a white door on the far right of the screen. NOT SHY - ITZY begins to play at half-speed. Her moves are clumsy. The song cuts off halfway through the first verse. The song replays at 75% speed, and then at 100%. When it plays at 100%, she is flailing. She is not keeping up.

SCENE: black screen.

NARRATOR: sooo....yeah. Like I said, I'm struggling. But maybe in a month, I can rewatch this clip and see how much I've improved. Right...?

SCENE: NARRATOR sitting at gray table.

NARRATOR: [holds up a book; the cover is a forest-green. There is no title]. I'm about halfway through this book on the French Revolution. He's still covering context for it, and I'm getting lost in the details. Okay, okay, there was a lot going on in the 1770s and 1780s. Mostly 80s. There seemed to be a significant amount of stress about food, and then economic and political discourse. I wonder if the increase in discussion about politics was a significant contributor? And then the king allowed, almost promoted, the amount of ongoing public discussion. He had humane, liberal values, and seemed to support the public having a strong voice in the government. Censorship decreased during his time. One of the people who was involved in government finances was open about the government's financial situation, and his own plans, so the public was more aware of how the government functioned. I'm not sure where I was going with this.

NARRATOR: It's as if the king was responsible for the downfall of his reign. Or the king's values didn't support the existence of the monarchy? Hmmm...I'm drawing blanks. I'm struggling to pay attention to this book, though, so I grabbed two others.

NARRATOR holds up two slim volumes. One is a thin gray pamphlet. The other is a slim blue book; 'ANCIEN REGIME' is written on the side in white lettering.

NARRATOR: One of these is a lecture on how historians have characterized the French Revolution. I thought it'd be a good interlude---like watching a Youtube video on the subject. The other caught my attention because it was between all of the French Revolution books, and I'd never heard the term 'Ancien Regime.' I skimmed the book's introduction, and the author says the 'Ancien Regime' is what the French thought they were rebelling against. However, the term is loosely defined, so this book is exploring what it is. The book I'm reading primarily touches on recent context for the Revolution, so stuff from the 1770s/80s, and this sounded like it would provide larger historical context for what the fuck was happening. And it's short! I really want something short...just to get the satisfaction of finishing something, y'know?

SCENE: NARRATOR is sitting at a table in the library. A pamphlet is open. She has a notebook and green pen beside her. In the background are books on the history of daily life in America. She doesn't speak. Noises include the sound of pages turning, writing, traffic, and footsteps.

As if I can't break the desire to shit on myself. I still hate myself. I should stop.

work mistakes. Fake name came in yesterday. It sounded like a real name, so I dropped it. Then the front tells me it's obviously fake, because it's a reference to something. I don't know the reference. Later, I get told how it's a good thing front caught it, since the cooks run on autopilot and don't pay attention to what's going on. Then — finds out I don't know it's a reference. I'm quizzed---have you heard of [THING1], [THING2], related acronyms, how could you not know this, do you not watch tv? No, I don't, and now I'm about to start crying (well at that moment I was) because I felt so stupid for not getting something everybody else understood. Everybody else saw something as obvious, and I'd never heard of it. I wanted to die. I wanted to cry.

Today: I'm being told it's fine to intervene when things are going wrong. Everybody else tells me not to. Not helping people is the best way for them to learn. I don't know who to listen to. Logically, my boss is right, and I agree. Solve the problem instead of compounding it. But the coworkers are the people I actually work with, and if they choose to compound the problem, there's nothing I can do about it. I hate being stuck in these situations where I know my coworkers are doing things that don't make sense & my boss leaves me feeling like their choices are my responsibility. How do I disagree with a guy twice my age? The first suggestion was to shove him around.

This isn't even a work thing. I'm writing to myself and saying positive things about myself. I still don't think I deserve to exist. I still think everybody else is better without me. Vitriol protrudes from my soul. I don't want to talk to people, it says, and you don't deserve to socialize. You need to stop inflicting your life on other people. Just be good, that's all you need to do. And you can't even do that right. All you do is find new ways to screw up.

It's the next day and I don't care. Cement your desires: I do not want to get out of bed. I do not want to go to work today. I don't want to work with —. I don't want to exist. I want to be dead. I deserve death.

— keeps referencing B— and I hate it. Where did he get the idea that we were dating? B— would say we were acquaintances, at best, due to the volume of time spent around each other. He'd send emails explaining how retarded I was, how I ruined everything, how he was better off without me, how I wasn't enough of a person to help him, if I were a person I could help him, but I'm not and I can't. Couldn't. I'm so sick of being reminded of him. As I write this, I can hear him telling me I'm not grateful (what was there to be grateful for?) and don't get things and and and. And I don't know enough to have opinions, and I'm too retarded + female to have a taste, let alone good taste. And and and. And and and. And and and. And it all blurs together because I don't remember and I'm sick of being reminded. Please stop.

I don't want to be on the internet. I don't want to talk to people online. Do not see me. Do not witness me. Do not — me. I have to force myself to write this—for what? To get these thoughts out of my head? No, they're stuck there. Because I owe it to strangers to be consistent and update? Oh, for the life of the small web. I drag myself to act as a student and I have fun, for a moment.

I thought this'd be 'just a phase,' a passing emotion that I'd break free from. Yet my sense of revulsion grows. I don't want to be, and being online is a form of being. Do I cling onto this being to — my feelings? It's more than the internet. I'm rejecting real-life people, avoiding the invitation for a get-together, knowing I'm not going to go to our company outing (if it ever happens). One ball of misery, coming right up! What a self-fulfilling prophecy. I wish I could erase my view of myself. I wish I weren't here.

NARRATOR is standing in her kitchen. On the table behind her, we can see dried chillis soaking in water and a loaf of bread.

NARRATOR: Good morning, strangers! It's the weekend, so I've started working on my meal prep. I cut up this squash (holds up a four-cup container of kabocha squash; it's cut into one-inch cubes) for the curry I'm making. Don't worry; I've saved the seeds to roast later. I'm going to coat them in oyster sauce and brown sugar. I've also done the chicken (holds up plastic tray with two-inch cubes of raw chicken). Right now, I'm soaking the dehydrated chillis and letting the lemongrass and galangal thaw. I need 1.5 batches of the curry paste, so I'm going to do two batches and use the leftover for dumplings. What else...

[holds up mug] I'm drinking matcha right now. I mixed some honey into it. I had yogurt and a can of coconut meat for breakfast. There were two cans of coconut meat at the store yesterday. I bought one, but I should have bought two. Doesn't matter. Oh! I have my class with The Archer in ten minutes. It's a dance class. So I'm going to go to that, and then make the curry. I was thinking about making butter cake today, but I think I'll save that for another day. Maybe. We'll see how I feel after all of this.

Cut to: in room, at edge of bed, putting on shoes.

NARRATOR: I almost forgot to mention that I played Ommatophilia last night. I'm not sure I understood the game, but the art was pretty. The creator mixed pixel art with drawings and photo edits. Some of the edited pictures of statues of angels reminded me of Vaporwave. There were religious themes---look, there are angels---and complicated relationships with mothers. Blue was such a cute character! The main character, Angel Cakes, seemed to have been desensitized to violence...which explained some of the weirdness of her character. Anyway, I'm going to be late for class. Bye!!!

Cut to Narrator standing in room. We can see her face and a yellow wall.

NARRATOR: Just got back from dance class. We're working on Not Shy, by ITZY. I remember being neutral on the song when it came out. I was into CLC, Dreamcatcher, and LOONA at the time. The flashy outfits in the video reminded me of the things I disliked about Blackpink. Not to mention, the music video has some vague plot. I dunno, I just didn't get the hype around them. Didn't Aespa debut around the same time? Anyway...I was able to get a hang of dancing the introduction. I can do it at 50% speed, and I can keep up at 75% speed. But I start to get sloppy. When I try to go to full speed, I lag and skip moves. And that's just the first ten seconds. But! That was just the first day of practice. We're going to keep going until we can do the entire dance, at full speed, with precision. Fuck yeah. This was more of a leg/calf workout than I expected. I know I'm on my feet all day, but that's mostly walking and small movements. Not...I'm not sure how to describe the difference. Maybe I need to pay attention to how heavy my feet are. Light feet, not loud feet.

Cut to view of mortar and pestle in her lap. Timelapse of making curry paste. We can see the wire of her headphones. The paste is dark red.

Cut to her pointing the camera towards her face.

NARRATOR: It's been an hour and a half...I decided to call it good enough. So I left some of the lemongrass and shallots un-ground. They're minced, and they'll be good for texture. At least, that's what I'm telling myself. I'm tired, so I'm going to take a short break before I start cooking it. I have 2 1/4 hours before I leave for work, which should be enough time. I'm still thinking about making that butter cake. ARGH. But it needs time to rise, and I'm out of time! Next week. Now, onto cooking.

SCENE: NARRATOR sits at small table. Behind her, we can see a sink; the little counter space surrounding it is covered in dishes. On her right is an oven set to 450. There is a backpack in her lap. The room is brightly lit and smells like cranberries.

NARRATOR: Hello, internet strangers. I just got back from grocery shopping, and I wanted to show y'all what I got.

NARRATOR holds up a plastic container. There are two multicolored triangles in it; they resemble slices of cake.

NARRATOR: So I was looking for ice cream, even though I said I was cutting dairy, and then I saw this by the sorbets. I wonder if it's a local brand? It says it's ice cream with chocolate and rum. I ate a piece on the way home---it's definitely ice cream. The rum is prominent. Also, look at the ingredients! [holds ingredient list towards camera] See, there's green food coloring, for some reason, but there aren't any preservatives. That was a surprise. I'm going to put this in the fridge before it melts.

Cut to NARRATOR removing more items from her bag.

So...did I buy anything else that was interesting? These are chicken breasts, duh. I'm going to use them in curry and dumplings. Yogurt, that's boring...I bought a banana flavor coconut milk drink. [holds up bottle]. I like the texture of the coconut jelly. I once bought a jar of coconut jelly, but I didn't like eating it very much. But when you cut it up into smaller pieces and put it in a drink, it's like boba. Very nice.

Alarm rings. NARRATOR jolts, pulls out phone, stops alarm.

NARRATOR: Looks like the bread is done!

Cut to loaf of bread.

NARRATOR: Wow, this smells great. Though the cranberries look a little burnt...I'll find out how it tastes when it's cooled down. Instead of water, I used cranberry hibiscus tea, so I'm a little reluctant to find out how it came out. I used this no-knead bread recipe. I made plain loaves of bread with it last week.

Cut to view of shelves below kitchen island.

NARRATOR: I restocked my coconut milk and coconut cream this week. I wanted to try a new brand. We use this brand [picks up light blue can] for one of the curries at work. When I last brought in curry, someone said I should try using thicker coconut milk, so I decided to try different brands. I usually use the boxed coconut cream that's in a white & brown carton. I did try some other brand last week, I can't remember what it was, but it was in the South American section of the grocery store, and it was practically a sugar syrup. [NARRATOR shudders]. So.

Cut to NARRATOR sitting at kitchen table. She's holding up a small green pyramid.

NARRATOR: I almost forgot! I don't remember what these are called, but they sell them at the Asian grocery store. This one was hot when I picked it up. I think they make them there? I usually buy the large rectangle ones. If you don't recognize these, it's a banana leaf, and when you unfold it, there's food inside. I usually buy the ones with the banana and red bean filling. This is coconut filling.

NARRATOR unfolds the banana leaf. There's a yellow-white ball inside. She stares at it.

NARRATOR: The ones I buy have sticky rice in them...this isn't sticky rice. Hmm. [takes a bite]. That's really chewy...oh, is this tapioca? It tastes like the steamed tapioca cake they sometimes sell. [more eating] [points food towards camera; there's something brown inside it]. I think this is shredded coconut. I was expecting coconut meat, for some reason, but this is good too. Huh.

SCENE: sitting on edge of bed. She's putting her shoes on while talking.

NARRATOR: Anyways, I have my class with The Catalyst in...ten minutes? Yeah, ten minutes. So I need to go to the library for that. Apparently, we're going to spend the first three weeks on the French Revolution. And then...I don't know. He's not saying. His syllabus just says that this is a reading & discussion heavy class. Which isn't surprising, since it's a history class.

NARRATOR stands up, is putting on coat and backpack.

NARRATOR: My class with The Aspirant was awful. The teacher is fine, and even though we're only three days in, I'm shit at it. I just need to meditate for ten minutes and write a reflection on how the meditation went. Then there's the homework, which I'll do later today; writing a page of "I am/do/etc." statements. I'm so bad at meditating. I keep counting as I breathe, but that hasn't been enough for me to focus on the counting. I just count and think about something else. I can focus for eight counts, if I'm lucky, and that's it. I know that's what the class is for---improving this---but I have a feeling I still won't be able to meditate before the end of the unit. So I have three weeks, minus three days, to learn to meditate. Anyways...I'm going to go to class now. Don't wanna be late! [sneezes]. I don't know where that came from. I'll see y'all later!

Cut to after class. NARRATOR is sitting on a couch. There is a brick wall with a bulletin board behind her.

NARRATOR: So, I just got out of my first class with The Catalyst. We started reading a book on the French Revolution, by J. F. Bosher. We went over a lot of different people---he said we didn't need to remember them yet, just that it was an introduction to what we'd be seeing---and dates and a timeline of important events. Then we read about the population and geography of France in the 18th-century. I didn't realize how agricultural their society was at the time. I think it was that ~3/4-5/6 of the population lived in the countryside. Lots of grain and wine production. Anyway. I have to leave for work in a few minutes, so I'll see you later. Unless this is where I end today's vlog. So...bye???

1. How Friendships Changed The Last 50 Years - Tyreke Simmonds - I loved the editing. The guy put effort into the set & costumes. The sound effects for the 2010s guy nailed the non-social attitude. The end of the video foreshadows the oncoming horrors of AI. Entertaining watch.
2. congrats! you have no personality - doothi - a thinkpiece on contemporary hobbies (or lack thereof).

What am I doing with my life?—I don't have to do something, but I'd feel better if I were working towards something. I see nobodies who waste away and know I don't want to be them. Still, I am (becoming) them. I'm a litany of failed projects. Can't even care about myself. I've thought of writing a c urriculum for myself—here are the next four years. I'd enjoy creating it. I don't want to be anything, so who can I turn myself into?

I was rewatching Madoka Magica and writing about which characters I liked and why I like them. I see myself in Madoka. Were Kyubey to offer me the chance, I would become a magical girl for the sake of becoming a magical girl. I could be worth something. I look at Homura; I like the strong, silent type. I look at Sayaka; I dislike how she wastes her life on this boy.

(do not gorge yourself on hatred and pity.)

I think: why not create a curriculum using tarot? These will be my teachers:

The Aspirant: "a figure knelt in meditation." // meditation

The Archer: // dance

The Brawler: // fighting exercise

The Catalyst: "Artifacts lay scattered across a table (...) what calamity comes next?" // reading about being

I rewrite myself: I am a student in The Citadel. We spend four years as students of life. There is no set curriculum. Our curriculums are set by chance. What we study, and who we study with, varies from semester to semester. Each semester is fifteen weeks. We take four classes at a time. This week marks the beginning of the new semester. I've drawn my cards; my teachers are The Aspirant, The Archer, The Brawler, and The Catalyst. I wonder how my classmates are taking in their new schedules. Who are these people? What will their classes be like?

I look at the semester handouts. I'll receive the syllabi later today.

I've started and stopped (what?—this entry). I deleted Infinity Nikki, again. I was tired of chasing after infinite goalposts. Finish one thing, here's the next thing. There would be no "catching up." The side-quests seemed endless. Sure, if one played the game as their lifestyle, the side-quests would come to an end. But I don't want to game as a lifestyle. If I am to game, I want to game casually. I don't want games to expect me to dedicate my life to the game. I want to have a closed storyline. I don't want the endless stream of content. That's all this is. Content. And I'm not content.

I waffle between "gaming" and "daydreaming." They aren't opposites. They're two options, and these options fulfil the same desire (replace reality with something better). My daydreams rewrite reality; they're loosely intertwined with reality, twisting my existence into a contradiction where I experience two different versions of events simultaneously. In my head, I repeat a particular outcome until I'm no longer certain what actually happened. Things I should have said become things I said, though I never said them.

Though I wrote that, I dabbled in an old daydream this morning. I visited a different world with its own character; this being is independent of the people I know IRL. This daydream doesn't provide the same comforts as my usual daydream. I must populate it with a new cast of characters. I must twist it into fulfilling my desires. My daydream must be separate from reality. Then I can find solace in it.

I'd like to be independent of the desire for escapism.

(quit caffeine...odd how tired i am. headaches. craving. i will power through so i can enjoy coffee again. i do not want to be dependent on it.)

I finished crafting the Wishful Aurosa outfit in Infinity Nikki. I passed out shortly afterwards. Got a full seven hours of sleep. I'm tired of the game; will not play until I read at least one book. I grabbed a copy of Archive Fever, by Jacques Derrida, from the library. Here's hoping it holds my interest.

My mood has taken a sharp turn downwards. I spent too much time inside today. Despite the cold weather, a short walk could have done me good. I can go outside without going to a particular place. If I don't want to go somewhere, a ten-minute walk is better than a fifty-sixty minute trip downtown. I was thinking of going somewhere this morning, but was getting caught up in how there was nowhere I wanted to go. Dear self, you can go on a short walk. Benefits---exposure to sunlight, fresh air, cold breeze will jolt me awake, helps me stay outside of my head. A good choice for a day when I spend all my time alone.

My thoughts are anti-social children. I don't want to talk to other people, they claim. I prefer to be alone. Other people aren't worth the effort. I shouldn't bother other people. I don't care about other people. I don't have anything worthwhile to say. And on they go, spewing their gospel of nihilism.

I don't have to listen to these thoughts, but I still feel them seducing me. Nothing is worth it --> I can lay in bed and play video games. Nothing is worth it --> I don't need to eat. Nothing is worth it --> I don't need to finish the things I started. I wonder if not questioning the value of tasks would help me complete tasks.

Asking if a task is worthwhile is a way to assess how worthwhile the task is. Is the outcome worth the effort? Doing task A means not doing task B; is this worthwhile? (Opportunity cost). What are the pros/cons of this task? These questions establish the task's context, thus allowing someone to understand the task.

By understanding the task, one can determine the appropriate approach for dealing with the task. They can modify their execution of a task to better fit its context. Someone may realize that a task requires less effort than they initially thought (when is something "good enough">). Vice versa, someone may realize the task requires more effort than they thought, and may assess other tasks to determine how to best allocate their efforts. One may conclude the task is not worthwhile.

A task can be unworthwhile in relationship to other tasks, to itself, and/or to those carrying out the task. While these first two cases can be based on rationality, the third case allows emotions to play a role in decisions. Emotions allow people to make decisions which "feel good" but are not in their best interest. (Emotions --> nihilism? "it isn't worth it" overrides all explanations of worthiness)

(I thought I was going somewhere with this, but I'm too distracted by gaming. Playing infinity nikki; so close to getting the last medal & crafting the aurosa outfit!!!)

The "new approach" to sleep worked pretty well for the first half of the week. I woke up, I drew a tarot card, and I got out of bed. Very nice, A+ consistency. However, in the second half of the week, I started playing games until 2am. This fucked with my sleep schedule! What a surprise.

By gaming & watching videos, I've spent less time daydreaming. Time spent daydreaming is time that could be spent on watching videos about making mead. I'd rather watch people make, taste, and discuss brewing. I started a tea wine and mead yesterday. I also added bread yeast to grape juice (just for shits and giggles). I might use the rest of the wine yeast on a container of juice; the yeast (Lalvin 71B) smells fruity and slightly floral. This smell is amazing. I hope the mead comes out well. I've been watching the bubbles in the airlock like they're an episode of The West Wing. Can't miss a second, hahaha.

This week's work schedule is frustrating. My boss gave me a heads up that they're cutting hours this week. While it makes sense, it means that there are fewer shifts to go around. [cut] eight of us for sixteen shifts. So they were only able to give me four days this week...and it won't even be 30hr of work. ARGH. I know they're saying they're waiting until [cut] I won't have to keep worrying about how many hours...but AAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHH. At least I'm getting the 7-8hr shifts. I'd say they over-hired, but [cut] they need to bring in new people to fill in the holes that are going to appear. Still. STILL.

Oh, and he's saying that a few of them need to get together with me to have a conversation about next steps. And a few other things...seems like they have a list of topics. Apparently, they are concerned about my mental health and work-life balance. This is not a conversation I want to have :|

Y'know, I'd been sitting down to make a plan for what I want to do over the next four months. Wow, I have ~ once again ! forgotten all of the goals I'd written. Or so I thought. I did complete the important goals. Hah. I didn't do what I set out to do, but I got somewhere better anyways. Okay. I'm...pretty okay with this. I'm not where I thought I wanted to be.

I keep thinking about how not thinking about the problem can solve the problem. Don't focus on the problem, just do something else. So...could this work for sleep? I don't know, but I'm going to try. Focus on the things I will do / want to do instead of how I'm struggling to get out of bed and need to get out of bed.

Or steal the "floppy fish method" that was mentioned in this video. Flopping around like a fish sounds terrible, will most likely be as ineffective as counting down, but why the hell not. Wake up, flop like fish, drink water, solve ~the hunger problem~.

Speaking of hunger...I just remembered that I bought frozen pizza for dinner. HELL YEAH. I was thinking about takeout, but this frozen pizza will scratch the same itch. So I need to finish eating the about-to-perish foods now. Tonight? Pizza, popcorn, and a movie. Someone was reminding me to watch Mostly Martha. I realized it's on Amazon. Renting it is inexpensive and worth it...because I want to watch it & the cost of going to the library + putting it on hold ain't worth it in the winter. (If I had a car, it'd be a different scenario).

Went to the Greek grocery store today. Remembered they have good pre-made food! Including stuffed grape leaves. I need to buy more pre-made items from there; it's fresh food.

I haven't been taking the time to brew coffee in the morning. I bought a bottle of cold brew for the week; maybe it'll cut back on the number of days I go to Dunkin? The school library is open again, so that can scratch the same "do not want to be in this godforsaken house" itch.

Gonna wash the water bottles (yes, all of them), eat some chicken, and write an email.

I fell asleep while writing the last entry. And now...I'm back!

Idea: write 1001 things to do instead of laying in bed. Item one: find 1000 other things to do.

Going back to college feels like a concession. I was wrong, they were right. Taking a class in Real Analysis sounds interesting. I'd like to get a better handle on how to think about math and how to create proofs. This would be a good starting point for taking higher-level math classes; it's a foundation for rigorous math.

I need to buy more fresh fruit. Find the easy-to-eat things that I'll eat. I do not consistently cook for myself---okay, whatever. Instead of not eating, find something to eat.

Something hasn't been going well this week. Talking to my mom didn't go well. I want to live my life on my terms, not hers. The choices I make are the choices I make. Can't people respect that, instead of guilt-tripping? Work has been stressful. While it's been slow, people are spending time chit-chating and not doing their jobs. Why should half of the cooks be talking for twenty minutes, no tickets, and not give the rest of us a hand with peeling garlic?

I'm disrupting conversations---they have five minutes, and if they're not working while they're talking, I'm giving them things to do. If we're behind, they need to help us catch up, and not rely on me doing all of the work. I want to call these things grunt work, but it's kitchen work, not grunt work. Just because some tasks are less showy and fun doesn't mean they're unimportant. Sometimes you need to get your hands dirty. Something was a fire hazard, but because it meant cleaning, it meant I was the only person who was going to notice & fix it. We can't keep working like this. I hate being the killjoy, but something's gotta give.

My tea's gone cold
I'm wondering why
I got out of bed
At all Thank You - Dido

Ever on and on
I continue circling
With nothing but my hate
In a carousel of agony Bad Apple!!

Where to start. Work woes? Yesterday, a technician came in. I was in the basement when he came in, so when I came upstairs, I assumed someone had already let the owner know what was going on. This is not what happened. They didn't find out until I made an offhand comment about it the next time I saw them. Lovely. To make things worse, the tech wasn't able to fix the problem...and there's a hefty bill for the visit. ARGH.

Today, an order came in under an obviously fake name. I've brought up fake names with the person who was running expo today; every time I tell her a name looks weird / isn't a name, she says it's probably fine and to drop it. This has happened enough times for me to figure that saying something to her isn't worth it. And she's my only option. So today, a fake name came in, and I went ahead with the order. Of course, it ends up being credit card fraud, and we're losing money on the order. AAARRRRGGHHH.

I want to think sitting down and writing out my current problems will make a difference. If I resolve these threads of rumination, something will improve, right...? If I write them down, I can make plans and address the problem.

I'm sitting in my kitchen. I don't like it here. I never cleaned up the debris from the fly incident. I don't want those coconut flakes. There are too many things I don't want but feel obligated to use. Containers aren't in convenient locations.

I rearranged some of my kitchen items. I made cookies. I cleaned. Now, I'm back at the library...doing what? I returned the library books. I was thinking: what should I read about next. All these books surround me, and I feel little desire to filter them. I could read...I could read...I could read...and then I think to go back to the other things I've started reading and wanted to read. I look at my downloads folder and delete most of the books. And then a few more. Oh, I was going to read books from that NPR list, or did I abandon that thought? I had thought about looking at portrayals of male & female mental illness in literature, or was I not going to follow through with that?

There's a man outside. He's talking and keeps waving his hands around. Is he on the phone? No, I don't see headphones, or earbuds. He looks like he's making eye contact with his shadow. There is nobody near him. A stranger in the library keeps burping. I'm typing and drinking watered-down coffee.

Authentic self? AUTHENTIC SELF? There is nothing here.

I thought about this, I thought about, I could consider this, DO SOMETHING, no not that!

One of my math professors is walking by.

Am I abandoning Hellenism? I'm not pushing through. I lack faith. Nothing is stopping me. I am stopping myself. From what. For what. To what end.

I am creating things. This isn't the progress I wanted to make, but it is progress.

5/6 of my recent reads were duds. No wonder I'm unhappy with my reading. The answers are in front of me; how can I see/implement them?

So much to do that I keep putting off. I want to finish up D—. The hard work is all that's left. I think I can finish this tonight, as long as I go home after work. Or work on it after work, instead of haphazardly doing things in the dining area and checking in on people. I am sabotaging myself.

Read an article titled The dangerous aesthetic of psych-ward TikTok, by Poppy Sowerby. The author has written a few other articles about internet culture. I'd made a note: do women encourage each other to be mentally ill? The internet has created cultures where mental illness is a hobby. r/fakedisordercringe chronicled this. Anecdotally, (something something women, ex. the subjects on r/illnessfakers are primarily women).

These thoughts are incoherent. So. Talking points:

• Girl, Interrupted---haven't read/watched it, but fuck me if this wasn't a phenomena.
• edblr culture on tumblr.
• lana del ray / summertime sadness (...which i associate w/ lolita & tcc)
• fetishize mental illness, women more likely(?) to experience mood disorders + something about hobbies. there are masculine hobbies; feminine hobbies were cast aside via feminism? so women turn to something else---~emotions~
• that isn't it. I swear "hobbies" + "women" + "mental illness phenomena" is all connected. askj;safdj;asdf;jiasfedoij;afhoi;
• Maybe I need to read Reviving Ophelia.
• Novels from "female mental illness canon" which aren't in Sowerby's article:
  • contemporary: Boy Parts, My Year of Rest & Relaxation, Sally Rooney's novels(?), Grotesque, Elif Batuman's novels, Girl in Pieces.
  • ED novels---these aren't mainstream? Wintergirls, The Passion of Alice.
  • Ellen Hopkins? Shirley Jackson?
  • previous: ???
  • Ethan Frome, by Edith Wharton
  • The Yellow Wallpaper
  • Gone Girl kinda fits the list...(we/they) certainly quoted it.
• Portrayals of Mental Illness in Literature, From Tennyson to Today
• MENTAL ILLNESS AND FEMININITY IN LATE NINETEENTH- EARLY TWENTIETH CENTURY ANGLO-AMERICAN LITERATURE
• ??? 19th century novels about women and mental illness
• We are seeing tumblr teenage phenomena enter mainstream + adult?
• The Sick Apple: Female Mental Illness in New York Women’s Literature, 1920 – 1945
• compare to portrayal of male mental illness (in literature)

Collecting quotes for later reference. The Cost of Turning Our Kids Inside Out

A 10-year-old gets an iPhone and immediately signs up with TikTok, whose algorithm nudges her to follow near-peers, girls a couple years older who’ve won lots of views and likes by talking about their Mental Health. Thanks to their own training in their own schools, these kids are old hands at therapy-talk. They might even have an entry or two in the DSM memorised. Our 10-year-old, already school-equipped with a therapeutic vocabulary, enters an online market of status and imitation where fluency in this vocabulary gives an apparent advantage. Casually, she and her friends start diagnosing themselves and each other and other kids they know at school. By anatomising her self in therapeutic terms, she may or may not be improving her Mental Health, but she’s definitely adding new symbolic matter to this self, new traits and definitions and layers of significance she can dwell on, wonder about, perhaps worry about.

The student mental-health crisis is a myth: Therapeutic entrepreneurs have distorted the data

For the past decade, an emerging class of therapeutic entrepreneurs has consolidated this claim, warning that the problems of everyday life are simply too much for the uninitiated layperson to manage with their own resources. While recognising that deep emotional pain is part of life, there is a growing sense that even “normal” feelings require “treatment”, lest they spiral out of control.

If I want to remember what I did last year, I need to take a moment to figure it out. The first four months were intermittently consumed by — and school. Those memories seem so long ago. Remember when I left Neocities and started using labyrinth.monster? Remember when I deleted my website? I made a few scarves; other misc. knitting projects. I moved out, I got a job, I took summer classes---how much time did those eat up?---and I started working on my undergrad thesis. I dropped out of college. I...am not sure what happened during the rest of the year. I read. There's always reading, and there's more than I immediately recall. There are two(!) internet strangers who I maintain intermittent contact with. That's twice as many as before. I've hung out with offline people more than once, which is a new development. I storyboarded a few videos, but never followed through on making them.

I think I lost some of my creative drive. Between '23 and '24, I let myself get lost in someone else. When we were talking to each other, I spent too much time trying to satisfy him; when we weren't speaking, I'd try to think about what went wrong and how things could go better. I'd let myself waste time daydreaming about him. I spent so much figurative & literal energy on him that I lost spending energy on creative endeavors. That's how I'm rationalizing it right now, who knows if I can think of another way to explain it in the future.

He's finally faded from my brain. I don't hear his criticisms; when they do, there's a specific thing that triggered them, and I recognize them as his criticisms. There's no hope for us to speak again. He isn't about to reach out to me. I can't deny that I occasionally think about reaching out to him again, but what for? As much as I'd love to read with someone else, our tastes were too different, and I've not the time to give him the commitment he wants. Or wanted. Something with him has changed, hopefully a lasting improvement, so who knows how his behaviors might differ. I'll stop entertaining the thought.

What I want to do is pinpoint how I lost/abandoned creative energy. Right now, I keep having ideas, and I keep writing them down and starting to follow through with them. It isn't just an idle thought / daydream in my head; I make some notes on the idea, I make some notes on how to implement it (ex. what medium, mechanics (if it's a game)), I work on it. I get through a draft, and am immediately hit by the need to revise. The shit draft's done, and it's enough to give shape to a coherent draft. (These revisions aren't forced. They're the next step). The work I'm doing isn't impressive---these ideas are short-term projects---but it's more than I've done in the past year. Which is embarrassing...

I don't want to let myself stop making things again.

The other bad habit, which did interfere with my creating, was getting lost in imaginary conversations with real people. I keep realizing I'm doing this, and then feel the urge to "finish up" the conversation. Most of the time, I do give into the urge. Making to-do lists is helping. To-do lists remind me of all the other things I'd like to do. I think I still spend a few hours a day on these daydreams, but they no longer take up most of my waking hours.

I get home from work and spend an hour daydreaming. Then I finish changing my clothes, eating, and go to bed. This week, I'll work on changing this. I had written out a routine, but that didn't work. I think I start daydreaming on my walk home, and then continue the daydream when I get home. If I don't daydream on my walk home, I might lower my chances of daydreaming when I get home.

Okay. What else could I think about on my walk home? I could treat it as a meditation. Deep breathing and counting exercises---for a whopping five minutes, at most---so I stop thinking about work. I don't want to think about my to-do list. I need to get home, get changed, and EAT. Tasks can wait until after elementary tasks are done.

I'd like to listen to music on my way to work, but I can't risk not paying attention to my surroundings. The weather has deterred weirdos!...but it means black ice. I slipped today. While carrying groceries. At least I didn't buy eggs.

I'm alarmingly okay with letting my identity be defined by a list of negative character traits: anxious, gloomy, impulsive, lethargic, lonely, moody, shy, tense. Maybe cross out shy...I'm not outgoing, but I'm not in a turtle shell anymore. I see these and accept that's all I am and all I ever will be. How depressing!

there's a piece of glass separating "me" and ???---between this view of myself and wanting to change it. This is me, why must I stop being me? Except this doesn't have to be me. All of these character traits are ways of behaving; I can change my behaviors. I don't need to keep affirming that I am these things. Nothing is stopping me from doing differently!

"Anxious" can turn into careful, observant, and thorough. "Impulsive" could become ambitious, amicable, and witty. "Lonely" could become imaginative and knowledgeable. That's a stretch, but---point is, changing wouldn't mean discarding who I've been, it means improving on who I am.

This reads like I'm writing my own self-help book. Well, if that's what it takes for me to understand what the self-help says, and if I then help myself...then progress is made. Progress is what counts.

I need to stop letting myself game for a few hours at night. Or I need to stop getting into the habit of gaming for a few hours. 23:40 is bedtime. Then I'll wake up around 7:30. I'll have a consistent sleep schedule regardless of when I'm working. I need to want to fall asleep, and I need to prioritize good sleep (--> focus, better health, feeling less shitty) over a bit of entertainment. I have the rest of the day to engage in entertainment. There are hours galore! ...and I already use them poorly. Gaming at night is re-allocating time, fucking with the entire self-damned schedule. So I shall sleep at night. And I shall want to sleep.

When I was in the school library, I realized I could tell the noisy people to quiet down. To justify myself first---group of young women were laughing loudly, playing music, came across as unaware of their own volume. I reminded them that they're in a library, and to keep their voices down. And...they quieted down, then left. The boys (who looked like they were 14-15) gave me a "yes m'am." Those two were primarily communicating with curses and internet slang, and immediately became more polite and aware of their surroundings. Interesting. I expected eye-rolls and ignorance, not obedience (too strong a word).

Spoke to — last night. Conversation mixed life and work. He says they want me to have a stable income so I don't have to be concerned about the number of hours; that I wouldn't have to worry about working 5 days instead of 6. A recap of the last spiel he gave me, with more certainty about what things look like. I have time, I remind myself. I'd said I was handling six days pretty well, and he said I was hanging on by a thread. Do I look / act like I'm hanging on by a thread? Is that where I'm at? What have he/they seen that makes him say that? I don't want them to worry about me. I need them to think I'm fine and I need to be fine.

Concerns about stability. I say something and my coworkers raise their eyebrows. (Am (I) am )saying too much. How are you?— same as always. Fine I guess. Getting by. Meh. There's nothing to see here. I don't want people to be concerned. My choices concern people.

I keep thinking about cutting myself. I want to inflict this pain on myself---that's not it, I want to experience pain and injuring myself would do the trick. A few shots of bourbon would do the trick. I hope we get together again, SOON. Would taking a hot shower work? I'm sitting at a local bakery. The walk home will hurt. The weather is evil. Thinking about stopping by G—a for a fruit tea. I went out for lunch ($5 bowl of soup!) and went out again (hot chocolate & chocolate chip cookie). I'm trying to make my trip downtown worthwhile; satisfy my list of random-ass cravings.

I keep thinking about going to the bookstore and finding a self-help workbook that'll help me. I know there isn't one. I've checked! There's a part of me that believes I'll find one. I want there to be one. As I keep writing: doing things is the solution. Thinking about my emotions and psychoanalyzing shit isn't what I need right now.

I'm reading a book called "The Shattered Self." The author is summarizing work by Erik Erikson. His summary implies I struggle with trusting myself, taking initiative, having goals for myself/life / thinking I can achieve things, all of which turns to struggling to have relationships with others. Man vs. self conflict, hahaha. (I'm trying to find more steps to what I need to do to be better! I'm clinging to the few things I've started working on, but if I could create more direction...I could make intentional progress. Give myself more opportunities for improvement.)

I'm playing Infinity Nikki, and am partway through chapter 5. Giovanni has begun to reveal his evil plan. So...spoilers for this part. He talks about how wishes cause despair; he'd like to free everybody from the pain of wishing. I'm reminded of myself. Why hope, when doing so is painful? Why hope, when hope does nothing for me? Despair is safe. Despair means a lack of pain. Despair is comforting. Damn, am I looking forward to seeing where this plot goes. Ha, he hopes to bring despair to the people...

I was sitting at my computer and watching a video. There were dinner dishes on my desk. I thought I wanted to go to bed. I wasn't tired, but my neck hurt and laying down seemed like the solution. I thought about leaving the dishes for tomorrow and going to bed. I didn't want to. I thought again: I only want to go to bed because my neck hurts. A better solution was to stretch, then do the dishes, and then go to bed. I did. Stretching alleviated the pain, so it no longer seemed like a pressing issue. I told myself I'd only take care of the dishes from dinner. Then I realized I had no issue with washing the rest of the dishes (from this morning's meal prep). Well, reader, the TLDR is that stretching (instead of lying down) meant I was able to clean a pile of dishes. Huzzah...?

Thinking about why I'm not doing the task instead of only not doing the task is worthwhile. It's a way to realize I'm fine doing the task, and was only avoiding the task out of habit.

I think going to Dunkin was inefficient. Making eggs and doing their dishes would have taken less time. Now I need to fold dumplings, which I'd rather not do, but I can't let the chicken go bad. I'll do it and it'll be done. The other things I wanted to do can wait until tonight. Bye.

I spoke to a woman about renting a room. She tried to sell me on renting a larger room---not because the smaller room was unavailable, but because she figured a girl would need a larger room. Girls have more things, she says, and she imagined someone like her son living in the room. A boy who owns, like, three t-shirts. I look at my room and let that image of men vs. women stick to my mind. I want to have fewer things, though I can't put my finger on why it matters. There is this ideal of a man who is passionate about his work and doesn't have unnecessary things. There is this ideal of a man which is less of "the ideal man" and more of "the ideal person." Men take on that image because---one, physical differences (men are more capable of being strong than women are), two, men have been in the public sphere more than woman have been (inhabit different spaces, the home is a private space, which women tend to inhabit), three, language ("guys" is used as a gender-neutral term, "ladies" is not).

I'm reaching at something. There are ideals which we TEND TO associate with men. Men fail to reach these ideals, as do women; however, we say men fail to be men, while women act like women (derogatory). Silly females, but not silly males.

So I'm there thinking about how I see standards associated with men as desirable. Men get to play life on easy mode. They're less susceptible to emotional influence than woman are. Men demonize female traits---one, they don't understand female traits (they aren't women, so they can't), two, women overvalue female traits (they are being demonized based on their nature, and, like men, they protect their nature). Though this paints women as defective, which isn't right either. Emotions are part of human nature. I do think/wonder if the sexes experience emotion in different ways (inherently! NOT DUE TO SOCALIZATION / SOCIETAL STANDARDS). This explains the divide? Either side can cross the divide, and some people's nature's do cross the divide.

idk, human-neutral NOT man- woman- hating.

I think I was drunk last night. Alcohol consumed: one beer, two shots of rum (someone brought this white chocolate raspberry rum that was VERY NICE. I wish I could have had more of that. Alas, large group and very limited quantity), idk how many shots of bourbon. — tried to grab a cat on our way home. Someone else was wasted (at least it was her apartment). 'Twas a good time all around. I hadn't eaten anything beforehand...not sure if that was a mistake or not.

When I got home, I kept wanting to update my list of reminders. Seems like alcohol turns off the overthinking portion of my brain and lets me just fucking exist. I say things to people and hug them; I say things I'm usually too self-conscious to mention. So I can do it...I just need to figure out how to do that without drinking.

I was thinking about how I had some old diary entries where I claimed I needed anxiety to balance myself out (that is, we need limiting factors, and my limiting factors are health issues and anxiety). I was thinking about how this is a false argument: yes, anxiety is an obstacle, but it is an obstacle in my head. It isn't a literal barrier; I let it be one and claim I need it to be one. In the morning, my instinct is to think I don't know who I am without anxiety. But maybe that's who I was last night? I wasn't thinking about whether or not I looked stupid, or how much people would judge me, or...I was thinking before speaking (which was a challenge, it was easier to just talk, and nothing went wrong when I spoke). Idk. I'd like to be in an alcohol-free group social situation and observe my behavior. What's it like to do the hard thing (socialize)? How would I?

I'm losing the plot. MY POINT. Most of my problems are in my head. If I stopped letting the problems in my head be problems, my problems would be different, but they'd be real problems (which may or may not have solutions) instead of head problems (which do have solutions). Head problems are cyclical. I think I understand how to stop it, but I'm terrified of stopping. Who else am I? Without them, I'm---?

identities are malleable.

identities are malleable.

identities are malleable.

iff we let them be.

Early solutions:

• Catch-and-release: notice the daydreaming, do something else. Inconsistently worked. While I was able to cut down on the time spent daydreaming, I only managed to interrupt my daydreams. I'd hit pause on the daydream and wander back into it a few minutes later. Still daydreaming during conversations. Still daydreaming while I should have been focusing on something.
• Having a job where I need to focus has helped me cut back on daydreaming. Not much, but enough to count for something. I can't daydream during a rush---that is, there are times where I can't daydream while doing my job. (I think this is ~2-3hr a day. May be underestimating, but I still spend a significant amount of time daydreaming while I work.)
• Replacing daydreams with video games. I've done this a few times. It's a transition step---replace the internal fiction with an external one, creating the desire to have an external world.

Some notes after reading "Solving Maladaptive Daydreaming," by Alex Benoit.

1. My daydreams are not abstract. They're constructive daydreams brought to a destructive level. Daydreaming about improving my relationships with the people around me (and about making progress in life) is healthy. Only daydreaming, instead of using these to fuel reality, is not. Thinking about a witty comeback several hours later is normal. Spending the next hour refining how the conversation would have went if I'd said the witty comeback is not. (and so on.)
2. I think this creates a conflict between my internal and external world. In my internal world, I have everything I want. So I experience having everything I want while also experiencing _not_ having everything I want. Contradictory states.
3. If I were to stop daydreaming, I'd be able to align my internal and external worlds.

My coworkers don't notice things are dirty. Or they notice, but cleaning doesn't occur to them. There's dried blood in the fridges; I'm the one saying it needs to be cleaned. Things are filthy and I keep pointing out they need to be cleaned, but the others aren't cleaning of their own initiative. I thought pointing out things would help them learn. Instead, they don't do it until I tell them to.

Artists have to experiment,” Jo said. “They have to go further than regular people.”

Olivia hated this kind of talk.

“See, I hate this kind of talk,” she said. “Artists are regular people. There’s no separate penal code for sculptors or whatever. They shouldn’t have to be examples, but they shouldn’t get to play the artist card to get off the hook either. Like, if our neighbor drives drunk, he’s the scum of the earth for endangering our children, but we think it’s normal for movie stars to get a DUI once in a while because, what, their lives are so hard?

The Material, by Camille Bordas

Trying to develop new routines.

• Made a list of what I'd like to do in the morning & after work. Put these tasks in the order I'd like to do them in.
• Made a list of things to focus on for each day of the week. (Monday: baking; Tuesday: reading; etc...). These aren't strict guidelines; rather, if I have no idea what I want to do in the day, I'll defer to the 'focus' for an idea. This should give me a way to find time for each of my interests & hobbies. It should also stop me from tricking myself into thinking that I have "nothing to do."
• Decided to take care of meal planning / grocery list-writing on Fridays.

Trying to actually do the things.

• Starting a cardio routine (from Darebee); starting out very easy, just to ease myself into doing this on a daily basis. Once I manage to maintain this, I'll work towards doing proper workouts. Ran up a hill the other day and was out of breath...I'd like to do better. Maybe do breathing exercises? Physical fitness is less of a concern than how well I can breathe. That sounds odd.
• Re-working tarot into my daily routine. While I've kept up with doing full/dark moon spreads (courtesy of Tarot through the Witch's Year), I haven't been doing small readings as much as I'd like to.
• Trying to re-develop a creative practice.

Anyway. Only doing closing shifts this week. Did they accidentally schedule me for a 9hr shift tomorrow? I think this isn't intentional...there's confusion over what time we're closing tomorrow. They seemed to have copy-pasted last week's schedule without remembering that we're closing at a different time.

Minor complaints---I hate being accused of 'not trying' when my outcomes haven't aligned with what someone else thinks should have happened by now. "You're not trying. Two phone calls isn't trying. You haven't seen the place." Well, the guy renting it is out of town...I figured I'd give him a call when he was back in town (and if nothing else had panned out). Nothing else has panned out, though, so I haven't been trying either. What's etiquette for searching for a room to rent? I've been messaging people, following up a few days later, and thinking that that's enough. If they don't want to rent, they don't want to rent. Should I be sending people more messages? With what regularity? I don't want to annoy people or be rude. Every time I message someone, I feel like I'm inconveniencing them. They don't want to rent to me. They don't want to respond. I respond to every new post to facebook and craigslist. What else am I supposed to do?

Apparently, calling him back wasn't actually the right choice. Sure, he found a way for me to see the place (while he's out of town), but the guy accusing me of not trying is annoyed by me doing this. Because I'm missing the point. My approach is wrong. I'm not trying. I don't understand what I'm supposed to do differently; I guess I should have called again before he said something to me? I'm missing the point. I don't understand what the problem is. I'm confused. It seems like every choice I make is the wrong one, and if I do what other people tell me, I'm missing the point. I'm not trying hard enough and don't understand how to try harder. How many times have these criticisms been yelled at me.

I'm not improving. I'm not changing. I'm incapable of turning into a human being. I should kill myself, but that'd also be missing the point, but doing what i'm doing misses the point and i don't understand what to do differently. i'm broken. nobody can tell me how to change, explain the point to me---even if they could, anything i did would be wrong. i hate this cycle. i don't know what to do. i want out.

On one hand, I'd like to go and clean up the trash around a river. I'm not sure where the urge comes from. This isn't something I do. Snow is starting, and it'll cover up all the trash. There isn't that much trash. I don't think I'd clean up the entire walkway; I don't want to lose track of time, go to far, and be late for work. I'd like to clean just enough.

On the other hand, I could stay home. The weather is cold (so?). Cleaning up public spaces is awkward (so?). Maybe someone already cleaned it (so?). Maybe there will be people there (so?). I might run into — as I walk there (so?). I don't know why I thought to do this (so?). I don't know why I want to do this (so?).

That was a doozy. I feel like a punching bag that a group of people decided to take battering rams to. Feels like I worked at a different restaurant for a day. The volume was different, so the workflow was different. What'd it be like to do that every day? Probably like what it's like to work in a well-established fine dining place. When I'm reading stories from other line cooks, I feel like an imposter. The place I work at isn't a real restaurant. The intensity ain't the same. Two people can handle the kitchen (on most days). Aaaaaarrrrggghhh...anyways.

The day is over. That's good.

Reading a book rejuvenated me. A good enough book is valuable. I need to remember this. Now, to sleep...

Tomorrow is a big day for the restaurant I work at. The number of preorders is ~1.5x the number of customers we have on a normal day...and they ain't small orders either. I can't comprehend the amount of work going into tomorrow. THERE'S SO FUCKING MUCH. THIS IS OBSCENE.

~sighs~

Saturday was a taste of a fraction of what tomorrow will be like. By the end of Saturday, I was hanging on by a thread. I felt like I'd been hit by a wrecking ball. Usually, that level of exhaustion is due to "people have made so many errors and I want to yell at them and/or throttle someone,"(*) and not "the tickets are treating me like a punching bag and I'm about to give out." I almost last track of what I was dropping...On the plus side, I'm not going it alone. There's a system for tomorrow. They've done this plenty of times, and they know how to streamline everything so mistakes won't happen.

Okay. Anxiety over. I am going to drink some more water and go to bed. I will sleep well. I will handle tomorrow. The real world can wait for later.

...maybe stretch in the morning.

*disclaimer: I have not throttled, or laid hands on (with violent intentions), any of my coworkers. I have definitely yelled at them...

Something is so close I can taste it. Maybe my approaches have been wrong, but these wrong approaches are starts that will get me to the right (better) place. By trying to find ways to make things better, I'm trying to find a solution. I'm missing the point.

I'm doing the same things I criticize other people for doing. Trying to change habits isn't fixing the root problem, but they are their own kinds of bandaids. Eating better food, drinking more water, and trying to keep myself in decent health are a foundation. I reject the foundation, but I can try to build it anyways. One step forward, four steps back is more than no steps forward, four steps back.

I think, by trying to find a new place to live, I'm being seduced by the allure of the possibility of something better. "If there's dirt everywhere you go, check your shoes." It's me. I'm not sure a new place will solve any problems. I'm not convinced somewhere is better. Maybe spending less time avoiding my home will help? I hate popping in earplugs and headphones, but I'll have to do this everywhere else. At least I have no expectations for my current place.

Thinking about making a game where the player's choices don't always influence the character's actions. You say "turn left," but they decide to move forward. That's a simplistic version. I've done this with a five minute game, but I could make a longer game. The story would take place over the course of months. Now, to actually write the story...

When I was listening to "Neither Here nor There," by Eleisha Eagle, I was struck with inspiration. I have the start of lyrics for a few songs. I'll sit down and write out the piano parts later. Then something will develop. I can flesh them out. I don't know how that'll go---could I start using Vocaloids to voice them?---but I like having the start of something. Creating feels nice. This is more satisfying than the videogames I've been playing.

Speaking of videogames, I deleted Shining Nikki and Infinity Nikki. AGAIN. I know, right? ahahahaha. Every time I play Shining Nikki, I don't enjoy it very much. The dress up aspect is fun for a moment, and then I'm annoyed and keep playing for the sake of completing something. I tell myself it's good to do something with my time, but I know I should do something else. If I'm going to do something I don't enjoy, it should be watching Youtube videos. I did a lot of that yesterday. The media analysis ones annoyed me. Some video game analysis videos were superficial; here's a hint of a video game, ahahaha, moving on to the next one. No analysis. Nothing new. At least some of the videos made me think. Nikki games aren't doing much of that.

Infinity Nikki is a nice game. I love the open world aspect of it; I'm wandering around and getting an idea of where the story might go without playing the story. There are side quests. There are caves. There's lore galore. I haven't continued to be invested in the main story, though, and the dress up aspect has too much grinding involved for me. Grinding in Shining Nikki was easy (just hit the button), but here, you have to walk around and find the materials. Or redo battles. I was frustrated, and the reward for my frustration was too low to make it worth it. That is, I wasn't enjoying the game, so I stopped playing. I won't be surprised if I go back to it, though.

I keep start-stopping reading. This is an easy problem to solve. I finish a book, I don't start another one, and then I go a week without reading. Easy ways to start a new book:

• What other books did that author write?
• What books did the book mention?
• What books do Goodreads and Librarything recommend?
• What books do you have downloaded?
• What books are on your "to read"?

These seem very obvious. I keep forgetting them anyways.

Searching for a place to live is not going well. "Not with that attitude," and he said it like a fact. I message people. People don't respond. What am I doing wrong?

I'm people-watching at Dunkin. Ate another almond croissant, having a coffee. I think I did a few other things this morning. I don't remember them. Workweek is almost over; two more shifts 'til Sunday. I had eggs for breakfast. Real breakfast; go me!

I missed writing yesterday. This is fine. I'm tired of immortalizing my mood. Despite moving forward, I'm regressing. That is---work is going well. I want to do better. I take steps to doing better. There are goals. I've gotten better at doing my job. I'm being told I can do better, but my life outside of work needs to improve first. Having a house I avoid & the debt situation creates instability. These anxieties, according to my employers, are interfering with my ability to live my life. Gotta get that sorted out.

I think my employers have too much faith in me. One of them is telling me I'll have more responsibilities in January. What those are is beyond me; seems like they're still finalizing plans. I don't think I'm ready to do more. I'm barely keeping up with my job. (At least I'm keeping up). My sleep is shit, my eating is inconsistent, and I'm not stretching enough. I'm creating my own problems. Deja vu---did I already write this, or did I only think it?

I need to play more Infinity Nikki. If I'm trapping myself in an imaginary world, I'd rather it be a video game one than one that's in my head. A video game is tangible. There are things to work towards. There are struggles. I experience emotions due to an outside stimulus. The daydream world lacks all of these. Daydreams are easy, comforting, and perfect. The emotions exist in the daydream universe. I recall reading something about how daydreams stunt people's ability to feel emotions.

In video games, I'm running around and picking up free money. Is running around a job I'm being paid for? I'm playing Infinity Nikki, there are people who don't have Blings (the in-game currency), and there are an abundance of Blings lying around the game. I dash through them, and they're added to my account. How easy it is, to find money.

Video games ignore the imperfections of the real world, allowing players to be immersed in the fictional world. I don't know where I'm going with this. I'm not going anywhere. I'm going in circles, as per usual. There isn't even a circle to go in. Not this again.

There's nothing there.

How---

Infinity Nikki is a game aimed at women. Men like it, though; what do they want, a kiss on the cheek? Yes, women have liked things aimed at men, and men are capable of liking things aimed at women. Men seem more likely to shit on things made for women because they don't see women's interests as equal to theirs. Tale as old as time...

We're repeating the same arguments. We nod at each other; how wise, how sage, we are.

How pitiful.

What isn't there to be tired of, what is there to be tired of.

Of course, you stop by stopping, and that means stopping.

I say something about alternate universes. Someone accepts my perspectives; he already knows, agrees, and I'm the one who thinks I'm crazy.

It's all the same. No new input, same old story.

I want to go home. Instead, I'm bumming around at — after closing hours. I don't want to go home. I reply to some room listings; maybe I get a response, it ends up being a scam. Pay to reserve a room showing. No. I bookmark one ad, whose response requires effort. Please work out. I'll respond. The ad is human, and all I want is a decent place to live. I'm avoiding my house. Calling it "my house" feels like a lie; I spend to much time bumming around and avoiding the place to seem like a live there. I have a place to live. I avoid it. I retreat into a fantasy world and live in tunnels; this is the entrance, I say, and this is my room. There's a bed with a blue blanket on it. There's a desk made of wood from a birch tree, and there's a cushioned chair to sit on. There's a bookshelf with my tarot decks and books. There's a kitchen with counters, and there's a fridge and it's mine. I like the food I have on hand. I have a cup of coffee and I eat leftover shakshuka. I go to work and then I go home. I write a bit and read a bit and I watch some videos. Media analysis is an isolated world, and I eat up everything I find. Here is this trend, a video says, and here's how (such and such philosopher) relates to it. Everything is safe and fine. I'll eat curry and ice cream for dinner. I know I make little sense. I'm happy anyways.

This life is not mine.

I wonder where the scratches come from. I removed a bit of skin with the cheese grater. ~12/40lb of cheese were grated by me...in the time it took someone else to do the rest of them. Next time, I'll be faster.

Melancholy bullshit---how to make the best in the meantime?

I won't.

"First, all those mirrors. Whenever you see a mirror—it’s only human—you want to look at yourself. But here you can’t. You look at the position in space where the mirror will say “You are here, and you are you,” you look, craning, twisting, but nothing works, because Lavoisier’s mirrors, whether concave or convex, disappoint you, mock you. You step back, find yourself for a moment, but move a little and you are lost. This catoptric theater was contrived to take away your identity and make you feel unsure not only of yourself but also of the very objects standing between you and the mirrors."

I'd once thought I would make a coffin out of mirrors. I'd fit myself inside and find out what happens. We live in the real world, so I know nothing would happen. But in another world, something would happen. I'd go inside my mirror coffin and find something else. What---another universe, maybe I'd fall through the mirror on the bottom and find myself somewhere else. I'd press a hand up and my hand would go through the mirror. I'd be somewhere else.

I never built my mirror coffin.

Were I to own a house, I'd like to coat the walls in mirrors. This would accomplish something, I'm certain. What?---I know not. The point of the experiment is to know. Mirrors show things we don't see. There's more to them than we know.

My phone is broken. I keep it in the same pocket as my pocketknife; I think the weight of the knife banged against the phone a few too many times, thus turning a small crack into a big one. Thankfully, I had enough money to afford a new phone. My sister took me to best buy; got the last "Google Pixel 8a" that they had. I picked it because it was the cheapest & smallest phone there. It is significantly larger than my old phone (a 2nd generation iphone SE, which is still massive when compared to my previous phones: an iphone 5 and iphone 3. I miss the iphone 5; it was the perfect size for my hands).

Part of me wishes I had the time to look for a phone I would actually want. (something small with a port for an aux cord). However, I shall live with this. I had to make a choice---whether I like it or not, my phone is part of my daily life. I need it for work---and I made one without overthinking it. Yay. Buying was easy; the sales associate didn't try to sell me on any additional things. I paid in cash. I wasn't able to buy a phone case, so I'll find a good one online. Currently working on transferring data between phones. I'm seeing an apartment in an hour. It's a 2bed/1bath deal; someone is looking for a roommate. Hoping it goes well. I'm not interested in continuing to live in my current place. Living in a safe place, with exactly one other person, would be nice.

I'm thumbing through books, essentially, when I keep starting and discarding them. This is what happens when you read digital books. If I'm picking up a physical copy of a book, I flip through it and read a few sentences. This is enough for me to know whether or not I'm interested. Digital books don't provide the same opportunity. There's no skimming to learn how much the book matches its description; there's no flipping to a random page and reading a few sentences. Digital books start at the beginning. Okay, that sounds like gibberish...

I started and abandoned several books in a row. I didn't bother counting---is there a reason to bother logging them? The medium forced me to directly sample the book.

I'm not interested in writing this.

Determination: still avoiding reality. This is---well, circles and circles and circles.

I. am. so. tired. of writing this. I don't even know what I'm still doing here. I'm avoiding something? Well, that's always true. Okay. Exit the circle.

There was some point, somewhere. If I were to do something---I want to keep playing Infinity Nikki. I'm turning into another part of the Neocities problem; someone who is writing in circles. I'm going in circles. I'm going in circles. What was that from---circles and circles and circles. What was it---I'm tired of running in circles. Oh, BoJack Horseman. I could rewatch that, but I no longer have access to my parents' Netflix account.

Same old energy.

What was the song.

One of Kiki Rockwell's. "Same old energy baby / history repeats."

labyrinth-limbo is tainted by habits and memories. I open it up and write the same old things. I tell the same stories, and I do what I've always done. When I try to do something different, those different things don't feel right. My attempts to do something else don't fit the website. I adjust the CSS; no, it isn't right. Nothing feels right. I like working on a website, but labyrinth-limbo is held down by its baggage. Maybe readers can see this, maybe I'm the only person who can.

No matter. I'm breaking free in the only way I know how: new website, same me. I have a few ideas of concrete things to do differently. Whether or not I shall execute them remains to be seen.

The new website is symbolic. I don't feel the urge to erase my old website. The old website was me, and I'm moving beyond it. I'd like to venture into something constructive. I'd like to do more than whine into the void. I don't want to fall into old habits and vent vent vent---what's the point? No. Here is something new, I tell myself. Here I will move on.

Logically, things are the same as ever, but this feels like a blank slate. No worrying about how what changes I make to one page will impact another page. Just---one brand new website, all for me to put my dirty fingers on.