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third fifth first post

this is day three of attempting to write and finish a first entry for the fifth version of my personal site.

every time i try i start venting and spiraling because that’s how i treated this outlet habitually for my last couple site versions… kind of just self-validated every time i was pressured by various life events to change and therefore prolonged my grip on the fencepost while life tried to drag me by the foot through disgusting mud. unlike what people might delude themselves into thinking, the mud actually never ends until you end.

i always have so much drive planning things and never ever follow through because grass gets old so fast and that new grass always looks so much better… like discipline works if you can prove to me with two samples of the grass that they are compositionally identical or that the grass surrounding me is superior, but it’s literally not true a lot of the time--the newer thing does promise or at least offer the opportunity for a greater gain. this does not apply to all of the squirrel-chasing events in my history and i am partially coping.

i chased a rooster today and scared its stupid little legs off because it kept trying to grab hens to grape. that alone wouldn’t have bothered me nearly as much if my peabrain father weren’t constantly acting like the hens deserved and needed to be treated in that way. he scares all the animals for no reason including harmless geckos. it’s actually pathetic. i scare the roosters off hens’ backs any chance i get if they’re being horrible but unfortunately that might just be how they are. gang graping and crying bloody murder at 5am are like their only skills. i honestly never viewed males as so different until i got to know him better but he might just be a weird person. i think he is. we honestly have no reason to keep roosters atp. he just wants eggs and the hens are way too stressed to produce a normal amount of eggs rn…

anyway.

god he’s weird but i’m just here for maybe six more months. holy shit i’ve been here six months already??

i hate myself when i’m not busy doing something, even if it’s not necessarily productive in the modern or general sense. i need to be obsessed with something and seeing some sort of number go up. this is why social practice and exposure is so unbearable to me; the feedback is inconsistent at best and always unpredictable, and it’s impossible to quantify success. all i want is to be able to go to work, get money, go home, and do what i want.

like i genuinely think we should start using ai chatbots as intermediaries in corporate settings to minimize time spent on communication and potential for misunderstanding or conflict and to maximize clarity. i do not want (am unable) to pretend to be friends with people just because it’s an american workplace norm. idgaf about you and you dgaf about me; let’s be real and live like normal people instead of acting like passive aggressive children on a reality tv show. the only way i could find interaction bearable is if i genuinely care about the work i’m doing and that shit is impossible when EVERYTHING is about money--if you don’t pretend it isn’t you have three noses. i love direct, purposeful, and efficient communication. i hate signaling and power games and stupid shit. i also hate when people say that these evolved social customs all have reasons for existing because there is ALWAYS a better alternative. we just don’t collectively make it a thing to proactively adopt or even try new social styles for perceived individual safety.

see so i kind of watched this spiral again and let it do its thing. i could go on forever; that’s the issue. it’s not productive unless writing is leaving me more able to sleep with less spiraling thoughts but i think its the writing itself that causes the spiraling; i don’t otherwise really even let it get a word in because i’ll just find something to push it all away.

i mean at one point i thought maybe i just needed to keep writing until the spiral comes to rest and then i’d be able to naturally say something more coherent but its more like a path along a mobius strip than a cavatappi.

i made spaghetti bolognese today. actually made italian meatballs first but wasn’t sure if they were fully cooked so i added them into the marinara while it simmered. it was good! spaghetti is always good. but i am slacking on exercise lately and still eating like i'm not. :/ cardio is horrible and actually fixes my brain, unlike a push-pull relationship with an older woman, which i only think and hope desperately would fix my brain.

um… so anyway. i’m losing it and that means it’s time to go to bed… i’ll keep this messy if that’s what i need right now i guess and make new pages to keep more serious and planned entries separate; not sure what they would be about yet weee willlll seee.

big proponent of the idea that being able to cringe at your past is absolutely a marker of progress and therefore a positive sign. messy is fine as long as my resulting displacement isn’t zero. and venting doesn’t need to be purely self-validating.

am i the problem? i’ll never admit it.

sleep well.

~

signing off,

six