my solution for gacha game mechanics in otome games is simple:
i offended T just now. like the double standard is so real with this one: so he's insulting me because i was thinking of eating salad with mozzerella cheese:
T: ok mozzerella cheese doesn't go in salad, because it's a weird texture
Me: but i like the weird texture. all going down the same hole anyways
T: ...
Me: you have your weird frozen tenders burrito
T: it's not weird! other people do it. it's done in quesadillas and this restaurant does it
Me: but burritos are round and quesadillas are flat
T: why are you drilling me on this?! you're calling me weird
Me: yeah, complimentary
T: you're making me angry!
Me: i mean it's okay we both have our weird food thing
T: ?
Me: we have weird foods
T: ... ok?
abysmal
im playing poe2 doing an all physical dmg wolf build. i was going to explain it, but that conversation exhausted me =_=
still in that strange place of feeling bitter, freezing waves of gloom wash over in one moment while doing something productive or fun the next. i ate a salad yesterday. the trick is to do edibles, and then let the cravings take you to a salad bowl. nothing tastes bad when high. genuine life hack
im still avoiding adulting as much as possible though... maybe today will be the day that changes? (should it ever change?)
i had my psychiatry appointment yesterday, and got my dosage increased. im still eyeing the new bottle wondering what the point of it all is, though. do i like rotting? no. but there is something about my brain's depressive gnawing on itself that feels more natural than being on a script. if i start taking the higher dose now, i wouldn't be able to feel like this again for a long while.
im sorry, readers, that im jaded about psychiatry and therapy. i think both of those things can work, and everyone should take a shot at it before writing those things off as options. ive had four different therapists over the course of my life, and tried six different medications. my psychiatrist said if i don't start feeling better i should try a seventh.
my sour mental health, i believe, is largely due to abysmal brain chemistry, because scripts have been way more effective for me than therapy. (but scripts are made to only work temporarily) the best i can hope for from therapy is that it'll help me out of a crisis state like once before. but it hasn't done much more for me than that... if im not in a crisis state, therapy usually goes the same way each time: i tell them shit in the exact same way as i write here, i get a gold star for being "philosophically sound" as my psychiatrist put it yesterday, and that's about it.
despite this, i would like to reiterate i believe everyone should give modern psychology a shot if they need it, and be thankful if it works for you.
there's a contradiction in my beliefs, in this entry. i simultaneously want to sit in my gloom because it feels more natural, and maybe since it feels more natural, there's a deeper layer to it this time. but i also know from experience that unlucky brain chemistry also has a lot to do with my mood, which is empty and senseless of meaning.
i don't know. ive been holding the brain chemistry explanation for a decade. maybe it's worth challenging now.
i forget if i mentioned it, but i have a mouse in my apartment, and honestly? i don't really care, especially since the lease doesn't mention anything about mouse infestations. it seems like just one mouse. also the only bad thing he does is spook me in the kitchen sometimes, because he's an idiot and darts across the floor the last second. i feel like Fredrick is a good name for the mouse, gonna have to get T's agreement on it... or not, since it's just me and the mouse in the mornings.
idk wtf is going on in his mind today, scampering across the floor every two minutes, back and forth.
it will become a problem if i see another mouse, but currently i don't feel like caring.
i don't feel like taking care of myself lately. i have a psychiatry appointment tomorrow, and i'll ask for an increased dose, but i don't think i'll take it. im tired of constantly trying to fix myself, and the solution always being a new script.
tired of numbing myself out, i guess you can say.
i haven't been working on career things at all. my honest opinion now is i should sit on unemployment as long as possible. the longer i sit on government handouts, the less i'll be participating in a system that is consistently screwing over the working class. it's morally correct to mooch off of our corrupt government and it's oligarchy of rich trust fund children, but you have to keep it bounded to that. if you start leeching off your neighbors and other working class folk, you're a dick, because we're all having it hard.
i was awarded more unemployment funds from Mass, which they only do when unemployment gets bad. so it must be bad.
im still mad i lost my job to an ex-coworker who can't even spell the company name right on her LinkedIn...
yeah im constantly wondering what's the point in taking care of myself, and trying in general. more and more im giving less of a shit about values in favor of doing whatever it takes to get rich. though there's no way to get rich, really. you get a 10% return on long term investments in IRAs if you're lucky. people don't ask themselves if abstaining from using that money, usually tens of thousands of dollars, for 40 years is worth a 10% return. people pay for a guy in a suit to tell them what to do with their money, hoping the guy has deeply thought about finances, but really we're all parroting the same things from other guys in suits who parroted the same things from the guys before them. which is why you keep seeing the market crash in the same ways over and over again.
if you question shit too much you lose your job. but also sometimes you lose your job for no reason. you'd think permanent job instability due to offshoring, AI, and the very people who we helped make rich gouging us for more money, would embolden us to question shit more. but we don't, because either people are too stupid to see the flaws or they pretend not to.
idk how to end this one guys. drugs are great.
staring at my computer waiting for something to happen
i hate always being the one making things happen. like getting invited to do shit; i never get invited to do anything. neither does T. we're both stuck in that.
i really shouldn't be so hard on him
anime man save me
sexy anime man save me
we don't need him Q_Q
... the dialogue in this otome game actually isn't cringe for once... sometimes.
if you try to follow a coherent plot in your head, you're gonna fail. topics and situations get introduced out of order, because the whole point is sexy anime man vibes and aura. the misunderstanding is my fault.
but yes, this isn't actually bad... the last one i played the dude had no legs and didn't know how to talk. nice guy, but it felt more like i had an adorable undead pet than... something sexual.
the other one i played was suggested by a guy i used to know. it had satanic male menstration via the asshole. but like, it was profound... plot-wise, anyways. also he'd get raped by another dude all the time. it became comical at some point. i think my once-friend was sercretly annoyed that i couldn't take the thing seriously.
and then, mystic messenger before that, suggested by my dorm-mate in college. which wasn't memorable.
two differences between mystic messenger and love and deepspace, versus the other games:
yes, i think this is the formula for success. once again, tumblr has better taste than most of the internet, and also the mobile game genre makes sense because it's a female driven market.
i just wish i could emulate love and deepspace on pc. for some reason i fucking can't.
i imagined my body was smeared all over the road like roadkill, and i was happy for a moment.
hey guy, hear this: all governments are cartels
i think being reminded of what made me attracted to F a few weeks ago has made me suicidal. he's the final shove over the edge, i suppose. i have a plan and half a suicide note written, though it'll take weeks before im ready. this is fine; i have too much persistence, and i know how to maximize my psychological states to pull off the attempt as smoothly as possible.
i was exhausted yesterday and didn't get to enjoy the rare 60 degree F weather that accompanied sunshine. so i spent most of the day sleeping. i can't have that expensive bottle of rum i found, it's too strong. the throbbing headache and sweats from it kept me up the night before. =_= im not much of a drinker. i prefer my edibles.
it all goes to T now. i think he'd enjoy the flavor profile of it more anyways.
T's having a shit time at work. he's the emotional pin cushion for the whole department, and he's sick of it. i actually did a decent job cheering him up last night without draining myself. maybe im really bad at letting people vent. every time someone comes to me with a problem my first instinct is to arrange a full frontal assault. i need to just let people have problems more, and shut up. he came up with his own solution anyways; he's thinking of getting a new job.
im an idiot... need to relax more...
if it's gonna rain today, while im doing errands? im killing myself
lonely tonight, and there's the philosophy club. but im not excited to go.
my brain's throwing a tantrum; it wants F back. "fuck these shmucks in the philosophy club". but i can't imagine him wanting anything to do with me so all my fantasies with him involve restraints. :(
"what if you tried imagining something normal involving him"
why?
"because you've been psychosexually dead inside since the past forever. T never initiates, makes fun of your fantasies not being completely vanilla, i think gets secretly offended if you blindfold yourself, etc."
im so tired of it, man... can't i get my sensory deprivation in peace, smh...
see now im stuck into going to philosophy club tonight because i need a way out of here. at least, i think...
my birds pecked the living shit out of my hand again so it's wrapped in gauze and neosporin.
"are you going to try to imagine something normal to rediscover what you're actually into instead of fantasies fueled by pain?"
all i got is femdom and hate sex, sorry. now i need food.
i have a feeling that the vast majority of us at the philosophy club could've stayed for another hour or two after the meeting
a lot of intelligent people in there. you can just tell by they way they talk. well... idk. they could also just be pretentious as well.
philosophy hits darker topics and i think we're all interested but afraid to put our toe in the water, other than the professor and one retiree. they intitiated the talk of suicide since the topic was about death. maybe i shall be the other brave person in the future. i mean i think i should... i think i have to. if i don't just say what's on my mind im going to get trapped in environments i don't like, like the one im in now. you have to say the jarring thing to filter out people who won't get you. scare them the fuck off.
oh damn, im reading the introduction comments on the club page, and we all found this through chatgpt. i had a feeling because he says the group is exploding
anyways the point is i went and yay i went to something yay
been just sitting here staring at memes all day. no, not true, i did upper body strength training. i am going to climb a rock this year i swear...
i don't think my friend understood this painting i saw at the museum is satire...
Vincent Valdez
or, i don't know, maybe we already have babies holding pikachu dolls in KKK hoods. maybe the news story will break out tomorrow
the meaning of "spring forward fall back" just dawned on me
i think F should give me the grace of a music playlist he likes
*sigh*
i got no music right now.
....
almost thought i found something, but these lyrics are dog shit. oneness and the infinite crap. cmon.
how did i end up with so many tabs open?
I wrote this today: Death, or, Grief with a Cloak and Scythe
If you want to use a semicolon while typing, you press one button, but if you want to use a colon you have to press that button plus use the shift key. Why is that? People typically use colons more in their writing. This is a design flaw, imo.
mike n ikes could take their candy, cut it in half, and call it jellybeans if they wanted to
i went to the MA Museum of Contemporary Art yesterday, and it was a good time. some emotional points, a long drive, but a good time. all the pictures i took were kinda ass though... many were crooked smh. but here are the ones that stood out to me the most, with my reflections:
[no image, you just had to be there]
the Jeffrey Gibson one made me depressed. I walked in kinda dismissive, because gay rainbows were everywhere and that’s not exactly original imo. but then there were these two videos side by side, someone dancing in the queer native american tribal outfits. one in black and white, the other in color. the video gnawed at me over time, as i watched, drifting from detached amusement to intense loneliness. the feelings arose because i thought about T, and i was happy i didn't bring him here with me. i sat and absorbed, gave this a chance, and i don’t think he would have. if he were here, i would have to cater to his discomfort. i can’t tell how much of my sadness was caused by the thought of T, or because of something inherent in the video itself. the dancer looked like he was going through his own painful journey.
when i had to cross through this part of the museum again, i tried everything i could to find a way around this room. and i couldn't.
there were a lot of impressive works at this museum, but for some reason my brain keeps coming back to Sol Lewitt's lines and shapes:
They are quite simple in comparison. i think it's because they're easier pieces to digest. i kind of found them as refuge after a bunch of politically charged works. pattern keeps looping in my head of, "ok but why did he do all of this?" that gets answered by, "ah, i can decompress here."
guy wouldve made millions doing "satisfying" shorts on youtube. they really stick with you, even though you wouldn't think they would.
---
i felt most at home in the Chalkroom, other than the congregation of very tiny people sharpening knives. i felt like i was walking through my own brain and its impassioned drivel. i picked a few quotes out from the walls and may incorporate them into this site later, somewhere. the sounds of the knives are what stuck with me the most though; if you stand in there long enough, they begin to sound like the ticking of a clock. i have no idea if that's intentional, or if i was hearing things. they bring to mind death, judgment, loss of time, an audience waiting for product.
there was a section featuring a variety of artists with their takes on how the internet has shaped our culture. many emphasized white minimalism. intricacy was reserved for a visual representation of internal AI algorithms, shown above.
there was another display, one of the more detailed ones, and i don't understand what i was looking at, or what the recording of the girl was saying. but i recognized my own exhaustion in it, the exhaustion ive gathered from ruminating on my experiences with AI.
the alarms woke us up. i said it was popcorn; T said it was on the second floor. Brewster couldn't stop saying things; I haven't seen him so scared since we first got him. i think im the only one who still remembers to tap the door handle to check for heat.
the most new england moment in my life: watching people use the 3am fire alarm as an opportunity to brush their cars off of snow. the fire trucks came a lot later than normal, uh... understandable, honestly. i wouldn't rush for my ass either.
now im back inside sitting with coffee, watching the birds as they rest. a chestnut mouse stands stark still in the doorway, exposed, staring until it figures out how to move again. i should get out of here and turn off the light.
i read the leasing agreement. there's nothing in there about mice. you can guess my stance on whether i care about them in my apartment.
ahh. me pretending contracts matter. better used as wrapping paper for a shit sandwich. i remember T asking me last year, "maybe we should tell the leasing office we tried clearing them." fuck no, hun. you wanna get evicted? they will 100% point the finger at us to blame for their prescence.
i saw the mouse dart across the floor again. they always go for the oven. T said they forgot to put steel wool in one of the pipes/compenents/whatever, to block the path for mice.
there's a DoD deal with OpenAI that happened recently, or department of war. whatever. (fucking insane lunatics) to help with domestic mass surveilance? ... oh ok they won't spy on americans anymore, but nothing is said about their involvement with the autonomous weapons. awesome.
guys i'll take mass surveilance over autonomous weapons. if the fbi kills me for not taking care of the mouse problem when i told the AI about it, fine.
we're fixing my fucking life. if i can get myself to focus on fixing my life. (i have to pause Chat Pile because it's too much of a bop. distracting.)
ok now we're fixing my life.
how im going to fix my life:
job's just gonna be job. what can you do.... actually i can't say that because i have continuing education courses due april. let me tell you haven't been more demotivated in my life at the thought of learning accounting.
so i have to fit that somewhere in here too.
e_e
my brain is operating on a single squeaky wheel and that squeaky wheel is the memory of F. yeah, that shit is starting to come back. honestly, i welcome it, when it floats by. my memory of him has softened.
i feel like im filled with sewage and rot. immobilized by it, stuck here forever. i think i have to leave T, i just can't do it anymore. im tired of the solution always being more drugs so i can function. i don't want to go back to psychiatry or therapy.
i just feel so uncomfortable existing in my body. i just don't like feeling it. i don't like the feeling of presence, awareness, sensation. everything is so tiring, even though, nothing is happening in my life at all.
nothing has been happening in my life since i graduated college six years ago. nothing has happened at my jobs, nothing happens at home, everything overall slowly gets worse. holding my brain together has all ive ever been doing, and im just getting so tired.
i don't trust people. T's starting to feel like nails on a chalkboard, i sit with my tongue cut out. don't know if it's by him or my own hand. maybe i never had a tongue. i sit and absorb words. i gaslight myself into thinking it's not that bad, because it shouldn't be bad. im not supposed to think that way.
he's always wanting something emotionally, that he can't say, but i can feel, and nothing is ever enough to satisfy it.
i think it's been getting worse.
i don't want to be here
Told T today I don't really want to be conscious for this life at the restaurant. And then we just started... talking about something else. The restaurant misspelled "special" as "specail" on a dry erase board.
I went to an online philosophy club on Friday. This professor from Brown talks to you for a mere $5/mo on patreon. Me and 7 other people at the meeting. I didn't read much of the material, but I tried my best to talk. Trying to give the conversation a balance, I suppose, so it wasn't just the professor talking. We talked about Daoism... there wasn't much uncovered that I didn't already know, or could tell from the little of it I read. My studies on Buddhism gave me a rock to stand on.
I hope I didn't look stupid in front of other people. I didn't think about that while I was there in the meeting, but it's kind of sinking into me how outspoken I was, and I'm a bit embarrassed about that. I could tell the professor liked me, but I was afraid I'd come across as annoying to other people.
There were other people who spoke, who were interesting. I hope I see them again. If they don't return, I feel this weird itch to blame myself for their disappearance, despite never directly conversing with them.
The professor at Brown seemed like a bit of a lonely guy. He said all he does is read philosophy, and no one else around him does, so he doesn't have enough people to talk to about it. He said his students don't really listen, the other faculty are checked out. It'd be a strange thing to hear about an Ivy League school if I was more naive. I wonder now if there's a quiet collection of academics who can't seem to stop working on whatever profession they chose, all launching their own $5 seminars out of loneliness.
He doesn't seem like a bad man. Trying to stay afloat in our shitty antisocial culture like the rest of us.