notes from another side

20260901

everything is beautiful and everything is a lie.¹ i have died, in some ways, through i still strive to live, or so i continue to tell myself. i am a vehicle for words to possess. i think i am in the process of giving up. i have built myself a graveyard---why do i long to be these people who i am not? they are more coherent than i am, for one, but they are also a reflection of the time i spend fantasizing about being an internet person.

is this a fantasy i could proceed with, or is it one for me to let go of? i live in a state of wanting to copy the youtubers, but the youtubers perform for the camera. i have no audience to perform for.

i have told myself to write back to myself and so i must. the meanings of the words continue to fluctuate. i weave a web of lies, unintentionally, and i continuously let go of everything i say. i have given up, more or less, though again in the future i will strive for more, and then i will give up again; the endless cycle continuing to repeat itself. will this ever be broken?

i do envy the youtubers and their coherent lives. they are aesthetics incarnate; one woman has made a life out of being a "summer girlie," another has a life from cleaning, another from reading, another from planning---who are these people, and how come they're coherent? who am i to judge their picture-perfect lives? they profit from us wishing from their life. i do not gain anything from watching them, and i refuse to purchase the accoutrements of their lives. they have such coherent selves and coherent identities. they have their routines, their hobbies, their lives, their personalities---indeed, this is their brand. one woman tells me how to have a "hot girl summer" and another tells me how to be an "it girl." yet the identities their words proclaim seem worthless. adopt these habits---what about interests, hobbies, personalities? i am more than someone who says affirmations and journals and meditates and eats clean and reads self-help books and exercises and runs and does pilates and listens to podcasts and journals and and and. who are these people to say that that is what makes a person? my life is beyond their help.

ah, yes, the insubstantial life! the days blurring together; not a distinguishing marker in sight. i have reached a continuous state of half-questions: i put words together, i add a question mark, and then i write around and ignore the words entirely. there are no answers, or i have refused to produce answers.²

i wonder if looking for answers is the problem in itself. i must live, or continue to live, but must i continue to engage in this continous process of re-invention? i transform again and again, gaining new masks and shedding new masks.

welp. i am a drama queen. the good news is that i caught up on both wanikani and kaniwani lessons/reviews today! i am pleased. i looked up the lyrics for ghost rule and was disappointed---the transliterations vs. lyrics from english covers aren't what i hoped they were. i remember the opening of ghost rule being "i only know how to lie / i guess i really can't dodge it this time" (probably lollia's cover). the first lines in the japanese original are "どうだっていい言を　嘘って吐いて戻れない." i can't really annotate them in the text file the way i would on a piece of paper, but here's my rough breakdown (aka this does not say "i only know how to lie," thus ruining something i was hoping i could know how to say):

どう: (unsure)
だって: after all, because
いい: enough?
言: words
-

too tired to finish that...today was exhausting. i had to go in an hour earlier. the day was a mess. at least everything is fine now.

¹ possible: 全てはきれいだ；　全ては人工だ。　全ては、きれいと人工だ。？？？ i went with 人工 based on Vibes. did find the phrase 嘘で固める, meaning to lie all the time...very fitting.

² possible: 私の解決が、ありません。？？？　解決 seemed like a better choice than 解答 because 'resolution' was one of the meanings of the first one. "my answers, i don't have them" is what i'm going for.

todo tomorrow

1) wanikani / kaniwani

1.5) exercise, shower, you know the drill.

2) circle theory book + review

3) ccs wk2 (finish)

...in an ideal world do week 3 as well.

4) if not work on cube club, resources, or something website

5) also clean the kitchen (b/c landlord)

20260902

i finally fixed the weird "japanese not displaying correctly in certain situations" by adding <meta charset="UTF-8"> to the header. HOORAY. also, pairing dumbbell presses with tricep extensions is killing my arms in a good way. i'm glad i swapped out dumbbell raises for laying on the floor and lifting them up instead...i definitely enjoy this motion more. also i swear my arms are feeling firmer...anywho...

i am so fucking inconsistent at exercising. i kept it up for three weeks, got sick, and have refused to do better since. exercise, my cursed beloved.

20260903

"you have infinite choices" is a lie the internet has sold me. i open a web browser and am overwhelmed by resources. i could learn so much about anything, and so i know so much about nothing. everything i could want is at my fingertips, and so i have been granted the illusion of infinite choice. i have tainted myself with infinite possibilities, their vastness obscuring the handful of possibilities which are true.

i can write this, get halfway somewhere, and then fucking forget all of it the next day.

yes, i could go to a library and set out to read every book on those shelves in order. yes, i could open up khan academy and set out to master the platform. (there are many platforms i can apply this logic to. see the trap?) i could open up youtube and learn to draw, or paint, or dance, or sing. i could learn every piece of solo clarinet music on imdb. i could become an expert on at-home workouts. i could be a zero-waste 'influencer.' i could be a trend-obsesser. i could watch every classic movie. i could watch anime. i could listen to these podcasts. i could master everything. i could go through courses on mit ocw, edx, coursera---whatever my greedy heart asks for that day.

and yet i don't! when i'm not being overwhelmed by the ocean of opportunities, i return to the same few opportunities. these are the "true opportunities." these are not things that i "could" or "should" be doing; more likely than not, these are the things that i am doing, or will be doing, or have done and will return to when i'm not being distracted.

true opportunities: the opportunities that someone engages with without question. the opportunities that create a genuine feeling of satisfaction. the opportunities which someone enjoys partaking in. the opportunities which someone returns to while asking themselves why they ever forsake it to begin with. i believe "true opportunities" benefit from having long-term goals / projects associated with them (high effort, high reward).; ex (personal): writing, reading, music videos.
false opportunities: these are the things that someone could or should be doing. they likely inspire a sense of guilt. these are futures that you've lost, or so you say to yourself. these are the things that you've always wanted to do but could never commit to. you probably try these every now and again, then promise yourself you'll stick to it, and then forget entirely.; false opportunities can also be opportunities that you spend time with casually. you may fantasize about dedicating the time to turn these into true opportunities. i suppose "casual" opportunities could be a better descriptor for that subset of false opportunities.; ex (personal): wine is nice and i like drinking it (casual opportunity), but i still fantasize about being someone who has studied wine and is truly passionate about it (false opportunity).; ex (personal): japanese is a casual opportunity which i am trying to turn into a true opportunity.; ex (personal): clarinet is a false opportunity. it used to be a main part of my life. i no longer engage with it, but i still fantasize about changing that.
illusionary opportunities: these are the opportunities that are planted in your mind when you're wandering through the internet. you could engage with them. good god, there's so many of them. which stance do you want to take? which have you taken? you're wasting so much time. look at all of these polymaths and how much they fit into their daily lives. you could be more like them. if only you worked hard enough, you'd be like them. you'd be skilled in every single thing you could possibly need to know, and you would be perfection incarnate.; i think that illusionary opportunities could be divided between "local" and "distant/internet." local opportunities are opportunities available in your town / city. if you wanted to be involved, there'd be an active community for them and ample opportunity for in-person experiences. examples could include participating in a makerspace, visiting art galleries, participating in the art scene, learning languages spoken in your area, participating in the dance scene, being knowledgable in local history, visiting graveyards, etc etc etc. if you're in college, or could be, classes that you aren't interested in but could take are also local opportunities.; note: internet-local opportunities could be opportunities which exist in close proximity to internet groups. for example, there is overlap between "people with personal websites" and "people who participate in pixel clubs." this makes pixel art, an internet activity, a local activity. for someone who sews and posts about it online, historical fashion communities could be an internet-local opportunity.; "distant opportunities" are, predominantly, those swathe of infinite options that are prescribed by the internet.; ex (personal, distant): embroidery is a thing i could learn to do, even though my actual interest in it is pretty low. there are many languages i could learn, but my interest in the majority of them is nonexistent.; ex (personal, local): i could learn any of the other languages spoken in my area (spanish, portuguese, cambodian, vietnamese, french), but my interest and commitment to doing so is pretty low. i would like to learn some in the future, but it is not a priority for me.

the unfortunate nature of opportunities is that they are chances for events to happen. these events are constantly shifting. the nature of these events are always in flux. the "illusionary opportunity" from five years ago becomes the "true opportunity" of today. hypothetically, one can force the opportunities to traverse their categories---if someone wanted it enough, that is.

tomorrow morning:

finish yesterday's journal entry, or today's new one
exercise etc. eat your breakfast!!!
sweep room / kitchen; tidy kitchen
wanikani + sub120 kaniwani | i spent five minutes and that was all i could stand. we'll finish up in the evening. promise? <3

evening:

more pixels?! :D
update finances
read!!!
...maybe even do ccs?
write.
game for a bit too :D
20min work on videos

20260904

my sheer unwillingness to exist right now cannot be underestimated. i do not want to deal with anything. my todo lists seem ambitious and impossible. when my next alarm goes off, i will start out by exercising. if i half-ass exercising, i will still be fine. i am happier having done a shitty failattempt at my routine than having skipped it entirely. i can do the bare minimum.

and so the day has come and gone. i have been struggling. once i got home, i meandered around for a bit---i can't really say what i was doing---and then i listened to youtube videos while playing animal crossing for about 1.5hr. i've upgraded my house to the next level. my museum is filling out quite nicely; all the time i've spent on fishing has started to pay off. i've also done a better job of collecting fossils lately. i wonder when the gyroids will start showing up? oh, and i ended up on a bamboo island today! i got some bamboo shoots and planted them around my island. very exciting.

i was listening to nobuy videos while gaming. i'm definitely trying to keep my spending in-check right now. giving myself a proper budget was the right call. this gave me an extra reason to say no to purchases. first i wanted to save the 'fun money' for later in the week, and then i spent some of it, and now, well, there's a little bit left if i really want it, but i want to try not to spend it. see, that's a more interesting challenge for me than "don't buy." hopefully i can maintain that position in the future.

after that, i did catch up on wanikani reviews and lessons. i speedran the new radicals and kanji---if that's a mistake, well, i'll figure it out. i'm glad i pushed myself to do something. i also just feel blah and terrible, and that feeling undoes every single bit of progress which i could have said i made! unfortunate. i'm also pretty hungry right now. i'm on the warpath to making a few mistakes with my eating habits---i'll see how long i keep that up for. downloaded a calorie-tracking app so i know what's going on this time. aaaand i'm definitely back on my bullshit again.

started looking at wine and sake classes this morning---wtf am i doing. i am genuinely making it a goal of mine to just stick to a few interests for the rest of this month, and hopefully even the rest of the year. no, ACTUALLY for the rest of the year. all i need to keep doing is reading, writing, studying japanese, and occasionally making music videos. those are the real goals. if i want to take up a new interest / area of study, i must wait until next year. i need to stick with *something* so that i 1) feel satisfied and 2) accomplish something tangible instead of hopping from point A to point B.

today, i'd been looking at the box for a brand of curry sauce we've started using at work. the majority of the text was in japanese. i was staring at the side of of the box, thinking it'd be the "how to make this curry sauce," and began to realize i was looking at a curry recipe. i realized this because i recognized 玉ねぎ and 水, thus prompting a feeling of satisfaction THAT I WOULD NOT HAVE OBTAINED IF I'D BEEN JUMPING BETWEEN IDIOT-BEGINNER AT EIGHTY-NINE DIFFERENT SUBJECTS. see, self? stick with something, and you will feel better.

i have been slacking off on my reading this week. this is an erroneous statement. the fanfiction i'm reading doesn't feel real to me, but i also feel as if i can't start a new book until i finish it. and so i trudge forward.

what things have i been spending time on lately that prompt a feeling of satisfaction? one, reading. a good book will never fail to enthrall me. two, journalling is always satisfying, but my forays back into fiction / creative nonfiction / structured, not diary writing are more satisfying. i must take note of this and act accordingly. three, exercise?! making a list of exercises i like AND keeping track of how many reps i do has made exercise satisfying. i may not be happy with my physique, but i can see that the number of pushups i can do at once has gone from 3 --> 10 in the past month. tracking has introduced an additional challenge which i could have never obtained from following exercise videos. exercise has become something i feel compelled to try to do; i'm not seeing is as "optional" in the way other things i enjoy are.

japanese is definitely a false opportunity that i'm trying to turn into a true opportunity. my primary motivation was wanting to have a common interest with a coworker, so. that's that. however, it was something i used to have a genuine interest in (waaaay back in high school), and i have participated in adjacent activities (listening to vocaloid artists, reading manga, watching anime). i can make use of these connected interests to help turn japanese into a true opportunity. i also enjoy writing; trying to translate sentences from my diary into (terrible) japanese is a way to connect a false interest to a true interest, thus bridging the divide. a secondary motivation for turning japanese into a true opportunity is that it is fun for my brain. unlike my other interests, it requires me to actively learn new information and apply it to the world. this process is very nice and fulfilling. finally, wanikani's levels system provides a very miniscule bit of gamification---what level can i get to? how much more do i need to learn to progress? damn you, (whichever kanji/vocab i blanked on today...on this day, one of the readings for 木. i could remember き but kept forgetting もく)! i'll defeat you next time...

i've spent time on entries for pixel cliques lately. i definitely have fun working on these; i go into a state of concentration until i'm pleased with what i've made. i think this is a false opportunity for me though. it's nice to do, but it's not something i want to make a big deal out of. i will leave it as something i can do, but not something that i have to do. what else...the increase in gaming is also a false opportunity. it is fun, yes, but it should be left as an activity to BRIEFLY unwind to at the end of SOME days. if i start actively setting goals for my gaming, then my life will go downhill from there.

i have been doing a little bit of dance. this is definitely a false opportunity. i sort-of enjoy it, but i also hate working on it and trying to be good. in the future, i would like to turn this into a true opportunity; it would pair nicely with music videos, and expand my toolset. however, this will require a significant time investment as well as a significant change in mindset. it is also a skill that would require me to overcome significant lifelong deficits (my complete and utter lack of agility, my utter gracelessness, my discoordination). at the current time, setting goals for this is a distraction. it is a false opportunity and i will recognize it as such.

music videos sit at a weird place. i enjoy making them, but i always go into a weird haze for as long as it takes me to make the video. then i forget about it until the urge strikes me again. i certainly enjoy it. there are times when i enjoy the process, and there are times when i push myself through the process in the name of a final product. do these matter to me? is this a false opportunity, or is it a true opportunity? what am i trying to accomplish? i'm reaching a point where all of my current ideas require me to take myself seriously, which is the exact opposite of everything i've done so far. maybe that's why i'm halting. my current ideas also require time commitment; they're less "two-day-haze" and more "regular work for a month." uuuuuuuuuugggggggggghhhhhhhhh. i want to sit here and say "i'll do it all on sunday," but i know that i can't. and there's my problem.

so, without further ado, here are my goals for my true opportunities:

reading: download 7 books each month. one from the 1800s, one from the 1900s, one tome (unless previous month's isn't finished/abandoned), one nonfiction, and three free-choice.
writing: could i turn the cathedral into a group of short stories? where can i go with that? otherwise, push diary to the imaginative / creative nonfiction areas. recapping the day is FINE, but don't keep it as the focus.
japanese: continue wanikani. make an anki deck for grammar points; start with the jlpt n5 stuff this month. also continue reading ccs. the challenge will be worth it.
exercise: just keep doing what you've been doing.
videos: [redacted].

and here are notes on false opportunities:

makeup / beauty / skincare: one, your interest in makeup is so very minimal. you want to be "like the girls" but aren't committed. stop telling yourself you should try more and accept that nothing about wearing makeup appeals to you. your idea of "beauty" comes from your workouts more than any beauty product could ever deliver. you have skincare products that you use on a regular basis. at the end of the month, when you go back to that cosmetics store, you are allowed to buy a skincare product + a face mask. this product will be determined by a 30min doombinge the week before. literally the only part of your face that you feel self-conscious about are the black circles under your eyes. you are repulsed by the idea of wearing blush, so stop looking at it.
dance: remember how miserable you feel every time you work on --- for more than 2min? avoid that intense feeling of self-hatred. dance is future you's problem. current you has better things to work on.
alcohol: you can buy a bottle from --- at the end of the month.
pixel clubs / cliques: you can't look for more to join until you've submitted to every one on your current list. don't spend more than 1hr/wk on this.
the other website: no.
finances: investment strategies can be a problem for next-year you. current-year you has a fine approach.
baking: you can bake twice a month. that's it.
spectral graph theory: why the fuck are you still wondering about this. maybe make it november you's problem.

i am tired and really want to push this update. so... *push*

20260905

waaaaaaaaahhhhhh itty bitty baby doesn't want to go to work waaaaaaaaahhhhhh i'm a fucking child. but this fucking child did make sure to exercise, read, and study japanese this morning, so at least she's not a total idiot. after work i will:

do the new wanikani reviews + all lessons
do kaniwani until i'm sick of it / complete reviews and lessons
play a game for no more than 30min
work on --- for 20min (seriously) | LOL 20min turned into 2hr.
work on the newberry street writeup (but i'll finish/post it tomorrow)
read for 30min (yummy)

20260906

i keep thinking it's later in the week / month than it actually is. what's there to say, to write, to do? i certainly back on my bullshit, which is to say i rejoined ---, which is to say i am hungry and varying between happy and annoyed. i am entranced by the idea that, with just a little bit of suffering, i can have a body i'm happy with. and if that body requires losing a little bit more weight---well, i'll be more than happy to provide.

i'm not sure where the time went today. i read, i exercised, i studied, i made brownies, i spent time on forums, i studied some more, i tried to read some more, and now i'd like to go to sleep. instead, i am still awake and alert, and so i'm sitting here and writing.

i am trying to remind myself of my priorities. i am trying to read and write and study and make videos. i feel like i'm a miserable person who isn't destined to feel content or happy or pleasure. do my cards say i have a future, or do they say i'm destined to rot?

week: the dancer. self-acceptance, moving past a period of doubt. this reminds me of work. i felt like i was struggling with anxiety a lot last week. i felt unprepared to deal with genuine busytimes. i felt as if everything was falling apart and i was completely incapable of handling work. if i were to apply this to my personal life---i've been struggling with one aspect of a video that's requiring me to acquire new skills. i feel like i can't do what i want to do, but maybe i can get it done anyways.
month: the scholar. at a dead end, needing a fresh set of eyes. when i first saw this card, i connected it to studying---the only thing i'm studying is japanese (can i please stop writing that), so maybe i'll feel like i'm hitting more dead ends this month. on the other hand, my life in general does feel like a dead end. is that going to be a theme for the next month? needing to step back and look at the overarching situation, instead of struggling with minutiae?
year: the brawler. i won't be able to move forward without resolving the conflict. i suspect the conflict is one with myself. i asked what my future looked like---impulsive conflicts and black-and-white thinking? the need for neutral ground, and the inability to find it?

i look up at my dealer, but there is none. i'm trapped in limbo again. my eyes wander frantically, dragging my body around in our quest for the light. there is no light, no portal to drag me to a better place. i am trapped with me, myself, and i; we are terrible company.

i stare into the void. some forgotten aspect of me declares this an opportunity to exercise without constraints. how am i not constrained? i am trapped. even if fatigue hasn't set in, i still understand i have an eternity ahead of me; best to save the energy instead of impulsively spending it.

"you always were an impulsive one," says someone. i twirl around but the body is absent. "brash. rude. irrational. unthinking. i could go on, you know."

"who are you?" i whisper.

the voice chuckles. "i think you know who i am."

i shrug. i don't wish to continue this. i wish to be loved and to be beautiful. do i need an imagination? yet as i write that, i know and understand that a beauty is useless if there's no brains to associate it with. i have nothing and i am nothing. if i cannot have a neautiful body, than i must have a beautiful mind. will i accomplish anything? i have done so little and gotten nowhere. i throw myself at one dark option, knowing it could bring me somewhere terrible, and not caring about what occurs anyways.

i cannot keep doing this. i understand as much. yet nobody is to stop me from running further.if someone tried to hold a conversation with me, how would it go? i yearn for emails that never come. why would they write and why would i write. is there a need for response? are we merely partaking in our mutual delusions? i crave a shared insanity---someone to be caught up in the same web as i am, a tangled messy history. would i like someone who can shape me into something else. do i want to chase after the hope that someone can love me. do i crave something concrete, or do i merely crave the idea of emotions i've never felt before.

20260907

dreaming...at a muji with a secondhand (中古) clothing selection. my sisters and i were debating about which dresses to buy. something happened and we ran; i was the only person who took a dress with me. remember my m*ther driving us through a path in the woods. it was small and narrow and the trees were closing in on us. this continued for several minutes. i kept getting more and more anxious. finally, we emerged on some wide neighborhood street. two dog-bunnies ran by the car, then two massive collections of small bunnies that were tied together so they looked like large dinosaurs ran by. then an open truck with a shelf dividing its contents drove by. inside the truck were two very large sleeping dog-bunnies. (i would later find out they were dead).

somehow in a house. two bathrooms were connected to each other. i was trying to change into a dress i had bought, but one of my sisters kept opening the bathroom doors (the locks weren't working). she was annoyed because she just wanted to walk around the house and didn't see what the big deal was. a young woman was crying about how her pets would rather die than live in this cold house. she talked about letting them starve-freeze to death, and how it took a week for them to die. she showed us pictures. i woke up.

i want to fucking bitch right now. and so i will bith. my temperature is not right. on one hand, i need a heating pad to warm up a little bit, but then i need the fan to cool me back down. i've taken an absurd number of painkillers today. i've had this weird half-headache wannabe-migraine all day. i am so ridiculously dehydrated; i've had more water than normal, yet (uh oh, bathroom mention) my urine continues to be bright yellow. i feel like shit and no amount of painkillers is helping. i feel dehydrated. it's like all the water is going in one end and right out the other, completely ignoring the muscles ? vessels ? cells ? that are screaming for more h2o.

one of my coworkers left me with an absurd amount of alcohol. none of this is stuff i drink, so it'll last me a long time. i also want to get a start on it now. ooh, new cans! i have never had high noon before, so a strange part of me is excited to try it. eep. eepers. my throat is parched; time to drink my nth water bottle of the day.

i need to keep writing but i also don't want to. i am so tired of sleeping on the floor. i want to relax onto a soft bed. i want to be held by a warm something. i am so sick of staring at this computer screen, and so i am turning it off. bye.

20260908

literally trying to rationalize my way into going to dunkin (and also failing, because i am counting calories now and dunkin is Too Many Calories). i think i just want a coffee. bad nobody! no coffee! (slaps self on wrist) i drank way too much coffee last week. must go back to "no coffee 4 u"

why must everything hurt so much? from where comes this pain? ---never compromise, says a voice, and i must wonder what i've compromised on. my hunger compells me to move forward. i must snack on---something, i can't pinpoint what. everything is too much now. the call of work urges my forward. to what end, i ask; to failure, the voice replies. you are trapped in your own web. i thought you wanted to get worse, we say; fingers point at each other, and we are all the same here. to get worse in what way, and aren't you romanticising, thinking of something else, compelling yourself to nonsense?

the nonsense is temporary comfort. wordvomit in hopes of self-expression, self-satisfaction, satiation. --- had an excellent weekend. what have i done, but lose myself to my writing and reading and action and inaction. i find things to do and lose them as quickly as i discovered them. i cling to hints of a life that's failed to flourish. what am i saying? who am i fooling? myself, certainly; i've rendered myself incoherent, my points so obscured even i can't find them. choose a hobby. choose a job. choose a past-time. choose a morning. choose a language. choose a book. choose a food. choose to drink. choose to exercise. choose to clean. choose to shower. choose to abstain. choose to partake. choose to act. choose to lie down. but why do i want any of this?

surely, i remind myself, i have a brain, and its existence necessitates its use. shall i put it to work, or shall i numb it? one improves it, and the other removes it. which is the goal---to partake or to abstain?

verdict on high noon (tequila): pass. would not purchase these with my own dollar. they don't taste bad, but i would rather drink something else. also drinking one had zero (0) effect on me. this is a waste of alcohol. when i'm drinking, i either 1) want to taste something interesting (that just so happens to have alcohol in it) or 2) want to be...not drunk but definitely not sober. i don't enjoy the taste of this, so it fails the first option, and it didn't do anything for my state of mind, thus failing the second option. i'm vaguely annoyed. "blood orange" was okay. i think the tequila was the dominant flavor? i'm going to start on the lime one. i'd like to think they'll stack, but i haven't been drinking quickly enough to make that happen. that's the problem with seltzer. i really can't drink it quickly.

i want to quote "the calling" by the amazing devil, and so i will. cringe alert! cringe aLERT! CRINGE ALERT!

i burned so bright it blinded
but i know that light guided me here

i'm obsessed with telling the story of my own life. oh, really? we never noticed. there were times when i felt i had a story ahead of me---a brilliant, gleaming future waiting for me---and yet that sentence seems like a lie. did i ever think there were better days ahead?

i keep thinking about dropping out of college. what would have happened if i hadn't? what if i'd taken it at a measured pace, instead of challenging myself to graduate in two semesters? was i truly ready for upper level math, or was i just another kid who could handle the calculations and not the theory? i'm haunted by these stories of something that never was. what if i'd stayed at the first college? or the second one? or that other program? what if i'd finished, instead of jumping around? <-- story of my life.

have i ever burned bright? i'd like to think so, and yet---well, when i look back, there's only decaying ruins of lives i never lived. i did things for a period of time, and then i stopped doing the things. there's so much i've learned and forgotten. now i'm here, treading water, wondering what my next step is. what am i preparing for here? surely i will accomplish something, eventually, right? right? ....right?

i suppose my constant inaction and indecisiveness and lack of commitment is to blame for something or other. yet i can't bring myself to care, or to be bothered by it. i can rationalize my way into action, yet my actions refuse to be dictated by rationality. why am i still like this? i feel like such a disappointment. i have little of value to show for my time. the best i can do is say i don't suck at my job, yet even there i feel like an idiot child who is playing at being an adult, or playing at being one of the boys, or playing at something i'm not. i feel so out of place and stupid all of the time. i can't keep up. i'm not good enough. without caffeine, i feel jittery and unfocused. who the hell do i think i'm fooling? i can't do this. i shouldn't be here. i'm harming the customers and my coworkers and the business and everything.

i walked into the river
to wring those embers from my broken heart
and broken liver
you'll never get your dinner
if you don't learn how to get along

what next step could defeat my irrationality? i tell myself to stick to something, anything, and yet the thought of doing so defeats me. i can understand why it is good for me. i'd rather rot than do things that are good for me. i deserve pain and suffering; i bring no good to others, so why should i bring good to myself? but that's not it either---as i write this, i speak in someone else's voice, saying words that aren't mine to people who aren't me.

everything i say, write, and do rings hollow. i want another life in another world. that's not what i want. (i want a hug. i want physical contact. i want something that isn't real). i don't deserve good things because if i have good things nobody else will. is that it? the words are still wrong, everything is wrong; the gong sounding with each wrongdoing; WROng, WROng, WROng. i'm a child playing with things i don't understand. i cannot be here and should not be here. i need someone else to set the standards and dictate what's next. who am i supposed to be now? what the fuck am i doing? how can i rationalize a life that doesn't belong to me?

a fox somewhere is hiding
that light i thought was blinding
brought me here

i imagine a series of emails. what's stopping me from dividing myself in two and writing them myself? i imagine the madness of two---to quote myself:

yes, i've often daydreamed of some sort of public email exchange. the website would be formatted like an email inbox. we could "respond" to each other's emails, or we could send new emails. there would be pseudo-intellectual elements to our writing, as well as a strong fantasy aspect. this would give way to some sort of folie à deux. our emails would become indecipherable to the general public. we'd be so caught up in our shared delusion that we'd nearly forget that the emails were public, and our writing would begin to delve into stranger territories that probably should not be made public. this would be weird and sinister and probably end in criminal activity. eventually, we would plan to meet in real life, and one or two other fans of the website would appear at the meetup location for people-watching purposes. we would end up continuing the conversation at an offsite location, engage in some unspeakable activities, snap back to reality, and never speak to each other again.

i look into the waters
and see a face i don't understand
we're both unwanted daughters
but there's more than water in these autumn hands

i remember when my parents, mostly my mother and sisters, insisted i'd either by in jail or forcibly institutionalized by the time i turned twenty-one. the time has come and gone and i have failed on both accounts. when did i get hit with the idea of my future being a failure? i'm certain of one time, and then i think and become less certain. i'd always been "the weird one" to them. i remember phases of something or other, all unmentionable, all equally inexplicable, all tied to things i'd rather not think about. thinking about them makes them real, and i need to remember that they aren't. the man and the child aren't there. they do not exist. yet why must my brain insist so? i remind myself these things are false. these are images of the night bred out of loneliness, or depression, or solitude, or all of the three and none of the three. i come from something i've never met. i go to places that don't exist. i create images to terrorize me.

i look into the waters
and see a face i don't recognize
who's this? (who are you)
what changed? i asked
so strange.

i honestly thought everything else is what was holding me back. and i think i was right, to some extent. everything else is gone and i'm still acting like it's here. "nothing has changed!" i cry. i'm not letting things change. i refuse to allow progress. i must reject current life, lest i see what i've become (a girlfailure / failure girl)

in the back of my head, i'd honestly expected something to be different by now. yet different requires me to be serious---something i'm profoundly terrible at being.

shoulder the sky
open those eyes
there's a kind
of calling.

20260909

all of the time keeps slipping through my fingertips. i find it embarrassing. then again, my life is embarrassing enough. today was a nothingburger of a day---didn't even read. i laid in bed for a while and thought about nothing in particular. when i finally got up, it was to start cleaning up the fridge. i had too many food tidbits laying around---whole corn, tomatoes, overripe prune plums, quinepas, brownies, mushroom stems---and so i put everything on the counter and got to work. i mixed the mushroom stems with a bouillon cube (and boiling water ofc) for a mushroom stock. the prune plums went to a plum cake; bonus for using up the eggs that were in the fridge. i love watching the amount of stuff in my fridge slowly vanish. i shucked the corn and cut up the tomatoes. i'll eat that with kale and olives and balsamic vinegar i guess. there's also some spinach and feta sausages defrosting; i think i can add those to the kale salad for a proper meal? i froze the brownies and half of the plum cake. what else...i steeped the quinepas in water for a while for a vaguely flavored beverage. then i froze the remaining pits/flesh; it looked like i could make a coquito with them? according to the internet at least. but i ain't doing that today.

well i did rearrange my room to make it feel less trashy. i feel like my brain is turned off. did more wanikani as per usual but couldn't drag myself to kaniwani. the review mountain is overwhelming. is this really everything i've done today? what a waste of a life. i leave for work in 15min and i still hate myself.

20260911

it is 52degF outside and my roommate is still running her AC unit. idly, i start to wonder if she'll continue to run it when it's 28degF outside. her voice squawks through the walls. her phone call / facetime / zoom / whateverthefuck began two hours ago. i am not fond of her. i want to shout: i can hear you. these walls are not soundproof. we can hear your 11pm guitar sessions and your singing in the shower at 5am. there is nothing wrong with being musically inclined, but you are not the only person who lives here. there is a time and a place for noise. also can you just quiet down? like the other girl who lives here can have multiple people over without making nearly as much noise as you do. make it make sense. at least she's stopped bursting into crying fits.

my body aches, but i cannot convince myself to sleep. or maybe i can. 10pm seems too early to go to bed, but perhaps this is what i need. i finished reading a book called "i'm not buying it," which was the memoir where the author and her partner spend a year refraining from nonessential purchases. her idea of essential is easy to criticize; how can she call a haircut essential? how is "the new yorker" a necessity? most of the book was her lusting about what she was missing out on---new movies, new books, new art things, other cultural markers---and a complete lack of reflection on this.

my main grievance with the author is her lack of personal reflection on her struggles. she talks about the things she wants to buy. she talks about going through magazines and looking at things to buy. she talks about whatever movie she's missing out on. she fails to reflect on any of these things. does she have any thoughts on her urges about buying those neon-green heels (they're mentioned throughout the book)? why is she looking at things she cannot buy, and what does she think about that? does she have anything to say about her obsession with movies / cultural relevance?

while the author doesn't spend much time talking about her partner, he is also part of this "nobuy" challenge. arguably, he does a better job of partaking in her challenge than she does. one gets the sense that he is fine (re?)learning to do without and to make do. in absence of buying a gift for someone, he tries to learn origami. when he runs out of wine, he borrows brewing equipment from friends and learns about making wine and beer. meanwhile, she just complains and reflects on the culture of consumption. oh, and politics. so much politics.

20260912

frustration. annoying phone call with boss2 over some issue at work. leaving for work 15min after i get off the phone, just out of coincidence. so ready for this shift to be over and it hasn't even begun. i do not want to work i do not want to work i do not want to work.

also, why can't composting services be provided by my city? there's a dropoff bin at a city department, but you need to be enrolled in a particular program to access it. that program costs $15/month. this is not a high price, but when you take into account that recycling and trash services are provided by the town---well, why not compost too?

the urge to wreck your life and run away from everything is a strong one. the urge to wreck my life---is anyone brave enough to try to ruin me? what would my invisible challenger be like? --- 2: electric boogaloo. i am nothing. i am irrelevant. i am a waste of space. i sit on this earth and rot. i am a waste of resources. i am jack's mistaken child. i am nobody. i am---

i've returned to a forgotten book and learned more about how sentient plants are. they sleep. they can undergo anesthesia. they are, undoubtedly, sentient. i begin to imagine them as prisoners to their own bodies. they put so much of their time and resources into surviving that they cannot do anything else. what is it like, to be a plant? i quickly decide that it's akin to constantly taking in new information and adapting to it with the goal of surviving. they detect more than i can imagine. i imagine being a plant is quite wearisome. i have the luxury of thinking beyond my survival; it does not. when i experience pain, i avoid it; when a plant experiences pain, how does it respond? does it know pain in the way i know it? when something eats a leaf, what does the plant "think"? a plant is alive in one second, and in a cow's stomach the next. does it detect that something is wrong---the absent leaves---and begin to fix it, only to find its entire self lost, a network of roots being the only thing---if anything---that remains.

this mango beer reminds me of the taiwan mango beer. except the "beer" taste is overpowering. it is fine, but i would rather drink something else. i wonder if the universe that chose to leave me with an abundance of subpar alcohol has an intention.

ai doom annoys me because of how useless the idea of ai taking over and killing off humanity is. i imagine an escalation of power---before we know it, we're gone, and the machine is endlessly computing...what? to what end? with what objective? to keep solving problems and map out the universe? can i prescribe sentience to ai? the end-goal of ai has a ring of horror to it. i've been hearing about how the human species will kill itself for as long as i can remember. when i was younger, "global warming" was the doom-call; now we've added misaligned computers to the mix. clearly, humans are not as interested in their own survival as plants are. we're just looking for more ways to die.

but what will these ais do? let's say the eliminate the human species---then what? i fear what i read about ai is too human centric. the machine stands to learn from its creator, certainly, but it is part of the greater world around it. it, too, will be subject to the demands of global warming and climate change and the planet's weather. what could it become? would the earth gradually turn into a massive computer, computing away without a care in the world? could it experience depression for fulfilling its purpose? what is it like to be an ai?

20260913

an illness has taken ahold of me. i am frustrated and annoyed. i am also ready for my cincinatti style chili to finish cooking. i am also working on a batch of inverse puff pastry to make apple turnovers. i found a baking textbook (french patisserie, ferrandi paris) and have decided to study it. i will begin with the first section, which is on pastries. so it looks like i'll spend the next few weeks testing my patience and making varieties of puff pastry.

there's something counterintuitive about making puff pastry and buying apple pie filling---surely most people do the opposite? but i must learn the art of pastry. i think this first batch isn't going to turn out well. i didn't do a great job of combining the butter and flour together, as evidenced by the visible pats of butter in the beurre manie. such is life... still i'm excited to see what it's like when it comes out of the oven in. uh. two or three more hours...

update: it tastes amazing. this is so unhealthy---there's about half a stick of butter in each turnover---but omg. i look forward to being able to compare early puff pastry attempts (yummy) to later puff pastry successes (prediction: astounding?). if i make these again, i will need to make my own apple filling. the recipe called for applesauce. i prefer a chunky filling; since the only chunky applesauce was a 2lb jar, i went with apple pie filling. however, the apple pie filling was made up of thickly sliced apples. i was looking for large, cherry-sized, cubes. these would've filled up the inside of the pastry better. oh well.

20260914

whisps of a dream: laying in bed next to some man. i'd presumed we were sleeping, that he was asleep; him flat on his back, and me on my right side, facing away from him, more awake than asleep. his hand drifting up my long skirt, fingernails pressing into my ass, a gentle, tickling scratching; i can't move, isn't he asleep, does he know what he's doing; his fingers drifting between my thighs; what is he doing? he's supposed to be asleep. i wake up confused.

i am still ill and making myself miserable over it. it isn't even a bad illness, but a nuisance nontheless, clouding my every though and action. i swear the overpresence of mucus and the tickling in the throat makes it harder to think. certainly, it disturbed my sleep, but that's to be expected. i wish i could call out of work, but there is literally nobody who can cover for me.

for a second i think about going on a run. i can't pinpoint why. the thought vanishes as quickly as it came. i leave for work in less than two hours. everything revolves around work.

i have too many websites-in-progress. there's the madness of two, the fitness cult, and now an animal crossing site. i've decided to treat my acnh character as an oc. i'm writing fanfiction about her. the fanfiction is very depressing---is it canon to her universe? i suppose she must have a happy universe and an unpleasant one. the illness continues to bother me, so i shower.

to become dash, i must play the part of dot. to play the part of dot, i must finish the book on consciousness; this would please the dash which dot yearns to satisfy. i think of the consciousness book and i think of carrol's "the apophenion." i think of chance and learned impulses. i survive on my animal instincts---rather, there is an underlying scientific explanation for my actions. the plant, too, survives on its underlying scientific explanation. we both have impulses and we both appear to have a conscious. my conscious has more room for flexibility; unlike the plant, i have no locked-in syndrome. my consciousness has the body to expand and grow, random connections generating thoughts and progressing forward. the plant lives in a horror story. it experiences a different time than i do, and in its time it has no room for the thoughts a human would have. can the plant do more than survive?

i think of plantagenisis; a world covered by plants; the dead bully immortalized, for nobody deserved to die in a school game. i think of alice and her unending nightmares. i think of her separation from the professor. i stare at my phone and wonder what happens next, ignoring the fact that i have already strangled a particular future. i created a ghost, yet i'd like to see him materialize, yet i'd like to see him disappear.

before dot and dash comes mara. i think to re-engineer their struggle. i think of the unnamed protagonist who seeks to be molded; who yearns to be changed (like a remix) and raised (like a phoenix) (fall out boy). i think of the book of goose; of evil girls who coat themselves in lives, who use their cynicism to drag others down with them, and of the ones who decide to cast off the cynics and thrive in their naivety. i cast myself as the hero / villain / victim.

where do i go, and why do i despise the choice? i detect a yearning for attention. who am i to deny it. love me, honey, like ambrosia wine (ambrosia wine, by maddison buckley)

20260915

a month half gone. i sip on instant coffee; how have you been lying to yourself? i skip meals like i ignore people. my stomach grumbles and churns, yet the increase protusion of collarbones and the de-bloating of the stomach, from a lack of food, fuel my delusions.

i wonder why i'm content to dwell in ambiguity and indecisiveness.

20260916

OBJECTIVES:

(5) clean bedroom
(7) clean kitchen
(3) kale + fridge leftovers (need to eat if still fine)
(1) shower & hygiene etc.
(6) work on acnh website; finish 'home' diary
(4) write dot's next email (use memoirs)
i was going to make palmiers but i don't have the 5hr i need for the puff pastry. if only it didn't need so much resting time...damnit! i'll do it between friday and saturday instead.

20260917

everything is getting out of hand. work was frustrating yesterday, but some ongoing childish issues have finally been addressed. but that's enough of that!

all of my website projects are starting to come together. i have a haphazard list of sub-sites / other websites that i've been dreaming up, and i'm starting to see a way to fit alllllll of them together into one story. and i am telling a story. it's not my traditional work, but i do like the idea of using a website to tell a story. i mean, what's stopping me?!

i am challenging myself to write the animal crossing site from dot's pov. dot is one half of dash and dot. i need to nail down her initial bubbly persona. how much of that website is created before she meets dash? granted, dot contains a lot of my upbeat self (who does exist, even if she rarely comes out to play). i'm trying to channel a slightly carefree, ditzy, almost blonde attitude. she's supposed to be likeable...and maybe a bit too likeable. she should also come across as being as deep as a puddle. i need to reread dumb and ditzy.

this blonde attitude is what draws dash to her. dash's first impression is supposed to be "oh she reads a lot, i'm sure we have something to talk about" --> "wtf is this dumbass...actually hold on i can work on this one." dot comes across as naive and easy to manipulate, and she, as in dash, has no problem taking advantage of this one. i also want to write toxic yuri lolololol

anywhoo....i think that's all for today. so much of my usual diary writing is taking place in other places, so i don't have as much to say here. and i need to leave for work soon. i cannot wait to come home. objectives for tonight:

start reading "crime and punishment"
play more animal crossing
work on rin fanfic! gotta set the stage for her patterns.
go over food delivery and make a shopping list. probably make kale chips if have the time / energy / etc. baking is for friday and saturday.

i'm stuck in a dissociative haze. my brain is gone, dead, get it the hell out of me. i need to rest and i don't know where to get the true rest i need. i am so braindead. i am tired. i do not know what to do. i was struggling to go over my flashcards today, and i was struggling to pay attention. i cannot process anything.

looked at nearby college library for japanese resources. the college offers multiple japanese courses, so you'd expect to see some materials, right? WRONG. kind of. i was able to find two 'textbooks' that were written entirely in romanji. they seemed to be aimed at travellers. there were a few more linguistics-related texts discussing...i'm not even sure, but it was a bit more complicated than grammar. there was an answer key for a japanese writing workbook, but no workbook. there was one novella which contained japanese novella (or was it a short story?) and its english translation; this was by yasunari kawabata. i plan to return to this in the future.

i was surprised by the volume of polish, czech, and korean language learning materials. i was not surprised by the amount of french and spanish literature.

i feel so lost. i can't pinpoint why. wasn't i just raving about how many things i had to do for myself, and for how all of my actions are becoming coherent? can't i see the wild future expanding before me?

i do not understand why i feel so trapped and confused. my mind wanders back to work; more double-checking after my shift is long over, because the people are not double-checking their own work OR each other's work. i'm not annoyed if person A makes a mistake. i am annoyed when person B doesn't take the time to check person A's work and see that a mistake was made. does that make sense? there are two / three / four of y'all scheduled for a reason, and you fail to use yourselves appropriately. you let your coworkers make mistakes because you're too eager to get the hell out of here even if it creates problems the next day. it's this relentless not checking other people's work sentiment which is truly annoying me. people think "all's good" and are more wrong than they know. the problem is not entirely on person A for missing something and making a mistake; the problem is that person B didn't give A's work a second look (even though A is giving B's work a second look). but no, person B will think "oh i'm fine, it's A's fault, i don't need to do anything differently" when they do need to change and clean up and do something else.

i have to go to work tomorrow. fuck. i am so ready for sunday. i don't even work that much, but the constant thrum of it pisses me off. can i have another day off? i beg. could i please disappear and forget about work and not think about what's happening there?

20260918

once again driven from distraction to distraction by distraction. once more i reach an abyss. once more i descend into the void which i constantly clamor to escape from. let me out, i cry, i sob, i sniffle, i whimper, i whisper, i think, i approach. i spend months fashioning a rope to hold onto and then i discard it at a whim, all while falling and falling and falling. why won't i stop falling, i say to nobody, even as a find a way to go downhill at such a steep incline / that my rearview mirror would show only the skies (downhill, by lincoln, more or less).

i feel as if people are out to get me. they seek to poke holes in my armor. they say they aren't, that that wasn't what they intended, and the others around them agree; that didn't sound like it had much of anything to do with you, they tell me, (we) don't see how you're taking it as an attack. they run their swords through me, they hold their swords, they hold daggers, they hold their hands up in the air to beat me, to surrender, by their sides as they walk back to the true task at hand. i stand and stare and freeze. i am not here and i am not there. i cannot describe this life, this feeling, this sensation.

a coworker looks at me, upset. i do not understand. what has happened here? do you understand what i've asked you to do? i have seen you do this task before, and you have handled it just fine, so what does that look on your face mean? what is the problem? can you tell me? you acquired the look during the conversation; the transition from pleasant to withdrawn so obvious, and i do not know what i did wrong. i don't know how you want me to understand. please tell me.

i stare. i go home. i play animal crossing and fail to acquire new fish, but i succeed in some outdoor designs. isabelle tells me that we must sell more land to improve our ratings, but the decorations are quite nice. i stare at her charming personality. she reminds me of a coworker. is everything about work? must it be? mus es sein / es mus sein!

have i learned a thing? have i managed to change? i make a mistake / i try again / instability fragility deficiencies .... (from... i don't actually remember, but i know it was by queenpb. "i'll fix what you refuse to be / what you refuse to see / you will be set free." something about diseased fruit, obviously a metaphor). "failed once again / i feel nothing can fix this." i am a horrible terrible person. whose words are these? whose thoughts are these? "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" (bad apple) plays eternally. the entire song on repeat, it has sunken into my veins and become a part of my bloodstream.

i am so broken and gone and dead. says who? says you, or me, or all of us, or another thought planted by another one gone. i click on your website to place a dagger in my heart. you told me of a future that you never intended on letting happen. i waited. i've failed. i've become the horror; another brainrotted smallbrained member of society. who is to care? i am part of the decaying masses. i welcome the end of my life. except i don't. i have so much else i want to do, all incoherent, all meaningless, all forgotten.

i wonder what this all is for. i wonder who this all is for. i come home from work and choose to read. i choose to game. i choose to sleep. i choose to brush my teeth. i choose to write. i choose to eat. i pick a book to read, a game to play, a food to eat. i select activities to partake in. choose choose choose. why do i choose? i choose to pass the time. i choose to distract myself---from what, boredom? obsolescence? time?

can't / turn / back / time / i'll always be a prisoner to my ambition / ... / was i everything you imagined? (red, by calliope msomething). oh, how many songs i've not listened to in years, the lyrics which i still know by heart! i have not listened to music in a week. i have ceased my attempts to force myself to acquire listening knowledge. i can truly say i don't care much for listening to music. i do not enjoy cluttered ears. i care about the lyrics---the words, give me your words!---but their context, their creation, their proper place, their origination is of little interest. send me words so i don't have to think.

how can i explain my disinterest in casual listening? i cannot process two streams of information at once. music is a stream of information, but it invigorates the imagination. the right song sends me soaring---i am gifted with images, with vivid lyric videos, with music videos, with stories that will consume me. how am i to listen to music while i do something, if listening forces attention as much as the task does? i cannot! brown noise is my one true friend, my one companion, the only acceptable background noise. it drowns out most unnecessary sounds; it fills my ears without infiltrating my veins or touching my brain and heart. i focus by taking away noise, and not by adding a new distraction to the mix.

a bitch, a lost bitch, a pile of nonsense shovelled into a human body. to where! i retreat within and vow not to spend unnecessary money. i shall not go out for coffee (as of twelve hours ago, i have quit caffeine again. my abstinence is non-committal). there is a strange fervor, or sense of desparation to my daydreams---a man's body against mine, his face in my neck, his teeth on my skin---how people've accused me of being a lesbian is beyond me. my brain, or something pretending to be it, wants something, though it cannot articulate what exactly it is that it's looking for. "it" takes the form of misplaced desperations for affection. i need---could this do it? could that do it? and yet there is nothing that can fill that hole. if i could carve that emptiness out of my soul, would i finally feel whole?

i long for a solution---to what? to where am i running, and from what am i leaving? a salve, a balm, a distraction from dissatisfaction---that's not the right word. a distraction from the hunger. a distraction from the void. a distraction from misplaced wants / desires / needs. i crave---do i know? can i say the word(s), and if i articulate them, will "open, sesame?"

a hunger must be satiated. a thirst must be quenched. a void must be occupied. a hole must be filled. an absence must be solved. an anger must be dealt with. an emptiness must be eliminated. a pain must come to an end. an urge must go. emptiness---emptiness---emptiness!

my hunger knows no bounds. i may ignore it, for a bit, yet it comes back to consume me. i mask it with the latest distraction. i shall study this, i say, until the hunger overcomes my determination and slithers around me, body tightening around mine. i am not satisfied, it hisses. it tightens its hold, forcing my breathing to become shallow. the pressure couldn't kill me. it could, though. why will you continue to ignore me? it continues, the hissing attacking my ears, its grip growing even tighter. you must not ignore me!

it untwists itself as it slithers into my mouth, down my throat, taking a new hold of my body, turning me into a slave for it. i must be satiated, it cries. feed me!

20260918

what is a friend? can you bite it, chew it, eat it, smell it? can it take a hold of you and fill in the hole? what is it like to meet someone? to say hello, to follow up with words, to have a conversation? what can i do for it, oh me of little consequence? i know nothing, so i have nothing to offer to others, so people would rather not see me. yet if all i know is all i'm worth, than isn't the internet the only worthwhile thing? the question returns again---how am i worth nothing, and how is everybody else worth so much?

i feel so far away from others. they speak a language i don't know. they get along with each other and have some basic understanding of each other. i am fire. everybody leaves me, or do i leave them first? i cannot be with the others. all i have is all i am, and all i am is a piece of shit.

he is speaking / speaking for me / i'm a worthless human being (exorcism, by???, specifically the cover by lollia). and how is someone else to respond to this? i'm tired of people who try to fix me. i'm tired of trying to pretend to be interesting. all i do is find someone i'm not, because how can i be who i am, when who i am seems to be so lifeless? i am trapped behind words on a page. i run from distraction to distraction, a kind of suicide of a self, if you will.

i wish to be reborn.

--- goes to travel with a group of friends. how does one do a thing like that? how has one acquired a party that wishes to travel a distance to partake in each others' company? how can you spend day in and day out with these people without them getting sick of you? how is it that such different people continue to spend time around each other? you must go out of your way to see them, i'd been taught, and you must have something to offer for them, and you must leave quickly, since nobody would want to be around you. after five minutes i've overstayed my welcome. were their grins always so violent? they said i owed it to them to show up, yet all it took was five minutes to pay what i owed. why must i exit before other people see me? why do you only want me to leave?

i have been lost. i need to leave for work. i do not want to, but i must anyways.

who are you to think that anybody would ever want to be around you?

even your family has abandoned you. only a vile, despicable person would earn that.

0920

japanese readathon day. i spent 3hr reading and got through 60pg of ccs, bringing me to the end of wk8 of the reading schedule i was following. low comprehension though, pictures + prior knowledge did a lot of the heavy lifting. that being said, i'm definitely motivated to give reading another go. that was a helluva lot more fun than flashcards and green owls. i will be spending more time on grammar in october, though, which will give my reading comprehension a genuine boost. bunpro was not working for me, so taking notes on video resources it will be. i'd seen cure dolly's videos recommended twice. i ain't overthinking what resource i'm trying next; i'll just try that playlist and hope it works out for me. annotating what i'm reading could end up doing the heavy lifting.

so...what was that about my meagre motivation failing me? turns out reading is interesting, especially when i'm struggling to understand it. then it's engaging and fun. yes, my comprehension was low, and i definitely looked up the same things several times. i dunno maaaan, stop judging me. i'm having fun and i'm learning something. i feel confused but not braindead.

20260921

i wake up and wage a war on myself. i am awake, brilliantly lucid, and totally aware of the warm, blue, fuzzy blanket that is holding me in place. the gentle pressure of an additional weighted blanket binds me further to the floor. must i sit up? my mind refuses to sleep, instead trying to wander. there are things i want to do, and they are so far away from me. i cannot think beyond an idle urge to go out to dunkin, coupled with a disappointing sentiment about the last time i went to dunkin in the morning. i want to feel taken care of. the blankets attempt to fake the feeling. i allow myself to feel their warm embrace.

time grows still. i cease the possibilities and make a determination: i will stretch. i spend five minutes contorting myself into a variety of positions before reading. the book is pleasant; the author's ambivalence speaks to mine. we are indeterminate and we remake ourselves.

i grow tired and lay down again, and again, and again. time keeps marching on. the clock ticking, the hour passing, the time for work drawing near---i wish to prolong the mistake. i wish for time to stand still. i wish to remain within the coccoon of comfort. priorities? desires? wishes? i think not!

I DO NOT WANT TO GO TO WORK...BYE ANYWAYS.

i see a passage from a website that speaks to the wandering part of me. yet a comment in their guestbook throws me off---ai? i stare at the webpage, not surprised to think that the layout, with all of the complicated css fuckery, could have been created with ai. then i stare at the words that were staring at me. i think on some odd speech patterns i'd briefly glimpsed. a website checker confirms my worst fears: the text shares many similarities with ai.

i am not sure how i feel. ai is a conglomerate of averages, so the average speaks to me, to some extent. i feel it must. yet it's jarring to think that this person had manufactured relatability via a machine and not their own words. i close the page with a slight disgust in my head. the likeminded soul is no more.

20260922

i am not sure why i feel like "everything is too much right now" nor why i feel the need to keep complaining about it. yes, yes, i find life tiring, exhausting, difficult---and? who cares? and what am i to do about it?

i am reminding myself that, in two months, i will have a proper multi-day weekend. until then, i will keep powering forward like a good wageslave.

maybe i'll go out to boston this weekend. this whole low-buy situation feels like garbage anyways. i don't think i care that much about my spending. i do, and i don't...rather, i really don't overspend, and my atrocious grocery shopping + eating habits give me more flexibility. if not for the farm share, i'd be living off of protein powder and popcorn right now. who cares about eating well or healthy or enough. i certainly don't.

i think i'm struggling right now. food repells me. i truly am a whiny little baby. i'm not sure what to do or how to do it. why does my life seem so wrong? why do i find ways to struggle with the most basic of tasks? there's a hilarious dichotomy---at work, i'm always on top of things, and i thrive when it's busy. there is nothing better than a barrage of tickets. i do not struggle to find things to do, and while i am bored frequently, i still continue to find more work to do. and then i go home and can't bother to do much of anything. i shut down. the bed calls to me. the computer calls to me. the books call to me. i have so many hours to use on myself, and i am aware of them, and then i neglect to spend them on anything meaningful to me. this is also not true. i keep doing things, and yet those things fail to be meaningful to me. i really do not understand what i'm doing or how i'm living. i feel so stupid and useless and worthless and unwanted at all times. i look at all the people with direction. most of my coworkers are in school, most of them have a goal in mind, and what do i have?

i'm at dunkin, again, and came long before work so i wouldn't risk last week's problems.

20260923

i'm shaking for an unknown reason. i am sitting at dunkin and my hand is shaking. i don't know why. what have i done today? wanikani reviews, for one. i also made an apple tart. i made the tart ring out of aluminum foil to okay results...the shaping is a little bit off. that being said, the bits of the tart that i've eaten are amazing. the shortbread pastry that was for the crust was primarily flour and butter with a dash of salt and sugar. the crust is distinctly buttery; it tastes like dessert without tasting sweet. the homemade apple sauce taste is TBD; i did taste-test it and thought that the brown sugar added an interesting complexity to the flavor. the apple slices that are piled on top of it contain most of the sweetness. this is an apple tart that truly displays the taste of an apple tart. if only my presentation would do it justice...

anywho. so i feel like i've wasted the day away again. why does my time feel so inconsequential? i sit and stare into the distance. i clean up my room again. i wash more dishes. i make broth and nibble on the rotisserie chicken. i peek at the apple tart. it is still in one piece.

20260924

can't fucking focus. work is everything, or so it seems. one of the older guys is out for the next week; consequently, i'm working significantly longer shifts. i mean, yay for more hours, also i got in at 8:30am, about 1.5hr before i'd usually get in for opening, and this still wasn't enough time. i'm already stressing out over tomorrow. stressing is not the right word. i am thinking about what i need to done for lunch and the massive preorder and opening. i cannot wait for it to be sunday, when i feel comfortable sinking my teeth into something. anything. don't care. i'm falling asleep and will be off to work soon enough,so fareweeeeeeeeelllll.

20260925

still can't focus. work is everything. the morning thoughts echo the night thoughts; another long day ahead of me. can't wait to bake the pandan turnovers. i wanted to make them last night but held off because "well i'd need to work until midnight and i don't want to disrupt the roommates." and then neither roommate was home last night, or is home now either, so why did i have to feel so worried? no idea why i'm choosing to exhaust myself with that work. next up is going to be some more tarts. the apple tart was such a hit at work!

i am so stressed about how today is going to go. 8:30 wasn't early enough yesterday; i'll aim for 8:20 and whatever happens will happen. there's a nonzero chance of me needing to stay late anyways; how frustrating, how annoying, at least it means more money for me. i need to overprep for saturday, and i say i because the other guys won't know what to do. and why don't you just, uhhh, tell them? no time to teach, especially if you're a terrible teacher. aaaaaaaaalso overprep is so based on Vibes that i don't know how to explain my choices to other people. and i'm stressing out over making sure everything goes well. i wish the people during the day did know how to do the things---one of them has started to learn, but i do not have the time for him to spend an hour slicing 2lb of onions. every hour is going to be heavily interrupted. if i can bang it out in 5min, well, that's why it's on me.

i'll get in, deal with starting water for everything, change the fryer filter---or try, i don't think i can lift the thing up today---hopefully i don't need to change the oil. i do not feel like doing heavy lifting today. or rather i am still a weak person and lifting 80lb of oil just isn't fun. i love feeling the weight of the vat change as i dump the oil into the disposal bin; it becomes so much lighter so quickly. after that, start cooking stuff, well finish cutting chicken and start cooking; the guys will handle some of the basic setup + veggie stuff as best they can. then again, yesterday's guy---who has been here for 2x as long as i had---didn't really understand how to set up the kitchen and make sure the veggies hadn't gone bad / wash containers / etc, so. maybe my expectations are too high?

i need to leave and i don't want to.

after two consecutive 10hr days, i have come to the conclusion that i am waaaaaaaaayyyyyyyy too work-obsessed.

shush. stop making fun of me. what i get out of my job (that i presumably don't get out of the rest of my life):

tasks to do that matter in some sense
externally-imposed structure
sense of completion
sense of doing something worthwhile
my actions have an obvious effect. ex. thing is out of stock, and so i will make it be in stock. cooking the thing makes it in stock. i have done a thing. i am a good person. i am not a waste of time, energy, and resources.
literally provides me with a way to quantify my worth.

what i also get out of work

money
food

diagnosis:

self-worth is clearly tied to work. what would i like my "self-worth" to be tied to? what am i worth to myself? what do i mean by self-worth?
i derive meaning from completing tasks that matter. this is lacking in my outside-of-work life because a) i feel as if i don't do much --> b) i feel as if the things i do don't matter --> c) most of what i do exists in isolation --> alot of what i do also only benefits me by nature of the task (laundry, cleaning, etc. life maintenance tasks are about me. i do not derive value from - being me? - existing?) --> further discussion: what does all of this mean?
structure helps with a feeling of worth. it is a measure i can compare myself against. i am obsessed with comparison, mostly to show to myself how much of a failure i am --> justifying why i have failed --> hmm, compare to "depression as a habit" idea from earlier (no longer being depressed, but still having the habits of depression (obligatory "this is not about all depressed people; this is based on my experiences with my depression." ugh i don't want to talk about mental problems as habits and get someone to use that to say "we are responsible for our own mental illness, just get gud." rather, i believe a) i used to be depressed --> b) i am no longer depressed --> c) i still have some of the habits / thought patterns i associate with my ex-depression, but i no longer believe them to be true the way i used to. however, these habits / beliefs still crop up in some ways and times, and maybe issues with self-worth are an example of this).
i do get a "sense of completion" when i complete some writing / video / etc. creative projects. i also do feel a sense of having completed something when i complete other tasks i've set out for myself, ex. life maintenance tasks. i derive temporary value from "yesssss everything is clean and tidy and lovely," but this value does not mean as much to me as the things i do at work. --> misplaced idea of what matters?
i keep quantifying my worth by my output.
- does "my worth" need to be quantified?
- "i" come from my actions. you are what you do, in my opinion. i am the sum of all of my doings.
- i keep viewing "output" doings as "good," and "input" doings as "bad." --> i don't think that assigning moral values to how i'm spending my time is benefitting me. when i play a game, i feel guilty for not doing enough. when i'm reading, i feel guilty because i feel like i'm not reading well enough. when i study, i feel like i'm being self-centered and stupid and a terrible student. i feel like i'm a bad person for not taking my "input" activities seriously.
  
  on the other hand, i also feel bad for not taking my output activities seriously. when my output activities aren't high effort, i feel guilty and like i need to justify why i'm not putting effort into them. i feel bad for making parodies because they aren't originals. i feel ashamed for not making high quality work. when something is high effort but low quality, i feel like everybody is looking down on me for not being good enough.

new objectives:

i would like to stop assigning moral values and guilt to my entire life. (diagnosis: ex-catholic)
i would like to do things i enjoy doing without assigning moral values to them.
instead of asking "is this a good use of my time" (question implies good/bad, moral language), ask "is this something i enjoy / am interested in doing" (question prioritizes myself and my interests. i am living my life, and not someone else's.)
i would like to prioritize "do i enjoy this thing" over "i feel obligated to do this thing" / "doing this thing makes me a good person."

other things that come to mind: some discussion from high school where most of my classmates seemed to agree that they distrusted atheists because they don't have a moral compass. how do you know what's right and wrong, and what's stopping you from doing bad things? i don't need the threat of an afterlife hanging over my head; my current life provides me with enough of a moral compass. ! something along the lines of internal morals (how i spend my time) and external morals (how i interact with others) would matter here. obligatory "murder does not align with my moral compass, so i'm not going to be a serial killer." now that i write this, i'm recalling a lot of discussions, especially with family, that were about how nothing is stopping non-religious people from doing bad things, while religious people, and especially catholics, are inherently prone to doing bad things. out of curiosity, how many of the ten commandments have i broken in the past three months?

I am the LORD your God; thou shalt put no other gods before me. | well i've put no gods before others.
Thou shalt not take the LORD's name in vain. | i do this constantly.
Thou shall keep holy the LORD's day. | i don't go to church, so i keep breaking this one.
Honor thy mother and father. | yeah i'm a failchild.
Though shalt not lie. | haven't broken this one!
Thou shalt not kill. | haven't broken this one either!
Thou shalt not steal. | all clear here
Thou shalt not commit adultery. | no chances for this one
Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's goods. | okay i do this one
Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife. | i don't do this one

i've only broken four of them. i'm good :D

so much to do and never time. my mind races ahead---what's next, what's next, what's next, it cries---while all it wants to do is rest. also f* ---. i don't care how much everybody else likes him; he does hold me to an egregiously high standard which he doesn't even hold himself to, much less the rest of the cooks. if he is the reason why we toss / remake / screwup an order, he laughs it off, yet if i drop three cherry tomatoes on the floor it's a lecture on food waste. i could go on and on and on but he holds me to this weirdass double standard and just does not trust me to do my job. it's like he has a strange vendetta against me for reasons i cannot understand. could be because there are times i disagree with him, he tells me to "just do it anyway," i comply, and then i say something about it to --- (because: i feel uncomfortable + want clarification on what's acceptable to serve to people + want an outsider's opinion on how we should've handled the situation. was his approach correct and i'm not understanding something? what would you have done? ...oh, the same thing i thought we should do? sometimes the answer is so fucking obvious that i don't understand why --- insists on some weird convoluted solution that causes problems later. can you stop telling me to 'just do it anyways' and listen to what i'm saying? instead of starting to talk over me? especially if you're saying "i don't know; just do it anyways." you're my manager, how do you not have an explanation for why you're telling me to serve someone weird meal combinations that aren't on the menu? or things we straightup don't have here? just because a customer asked doesn't mean we can do it. especially if our boss says we can't...) and he passes a message onto our boss and then, well. you get the idea. actually i'm just pissed off at him for raising his voice to me today. a) that was a packing mistake, not a food mistake, don't fucking ask me why you're screwing up b) yes, the guy who left earlier messed up that order, can you not start yelling at me about it? don't yell at me for things that didn't even happen? if there is a problem, just tell me what it was, instead of immediately raising your voice and telling me that we can't keep screwing up? the weird passive-aggressive way of telling me something was wrong made fixing the problem take three times as long as it needed to. i am breathing and making a mental note. he's started to make my boss look relaxed and chill...i certainly prefer "he's an ass, but he's right (mostly)" to "he's a nitpicky micro-managing really rude person." at least the former has a point...it's like he's trying to copy our boss' style without thinking about when it's appropriate. save the raised voices and lectures for when we've truly fucked up, and not for non-issues.

also he's seen that there's a problem with food, sent out the food, and then come back and asked why there was a problem with it, because, in his words, the problem was there when he sent it out. why the fuck didn't you just tell me BEFORE you gave it to the customer? yeah, i missed something in a rush---if you see that before sending it out, tell me!!! please!!!!! or just ask to check if the order changed, and then i'll say "oh it didn't, give me a second," i'll fix it, and then everything will be fine.

i just. he adds so much unnecessary pressure that i'm left to feel like he'd rather i not work here. i spoke to my boss about it once and he lightened up for a bit, but now he's back to being an ass, and it seems to just be to me in particular. everybody else likes him. all of the ladies who work here are friendly with him. sometimes i think that if he stopped nitpicking over my cook mistakes and actually paid attention to his job, foh stuff, there'd be fewer foh mistakes.

okay work shit done. tomorrow, i WILL make more puff pastry and nothing is stopping me. unless i just sleep until work, that actually sounds like a pretty good idea. if i spend tomorrow sleeping i can be all rested up for doing nothing on sunday. sunday's nothing would include baking, thinking about baking, planning baking, house chores, cutting hair, reading, writing, studying, showering, and more website stuff. always more website stuff. but first, sleep sleep time.

20260926

i said "screw the puff pastry" and kept laying on the floor until 10-ish. then i cut as much hair as i could manage---seriously, my hair is a bitch, even if i'm shaving it off again---and cooked for a bit. took care of most of the veggies in my fridge; i'll do something with the eggplants and peppers tomorrow, and i'll make more rice. trying to use up most of the broth in my freezer because there is truly too much of it. the wind is lovely right now.

thinking about life as a pursuit of pleasure, and not as about being guided by morals, reminded me of epicureanism, a philosophy i have heard about in passing and am wholely unfamiliar with. looking at my school's library has helped me obtain three more books to explore:

epictetus, by jason xenakis. second chapter starts with this:
"what is life about? is life a game or a burden? is suicide wrong? are virtue and truth more valuable than happiness? how can distress be coped with? what, if any, is the use of reason?

these are the kinds of questions epictetus was really interested in."
(emphasis mine)
i like these questions. i believe i have selected a useful book.
feminism and modern philosophy: an introduction, by andrea nye. this book appears to have never been read before. some part of my head has begun to regard feminism, in my part & time of the world, as a way of thought and not a political state. (obligatory disclaimer: there are definitely parts of the world that desperately need feminism. however, women's rights in the us have significantly improved over the last century---from what i understand, we've moved past "legal discrimination" to ...idk what to call it. microaggressions? i hate using that word in this context, but i hope the reader sees my point). either way, i'd like to learn more about feminism (instead of getting annoyed with it...), so. let's do it.
descartes to derrida: an introduction to european philosophy, by peter sedgwick. my wanderings through the internet keep bringing me to materials tangential to european (=== continental?) philosophy. time to learn! also, the only thing i know about derrida is that his "poetics of space" (which i have not read) is mentioned in house of leaves. house of leaves is still my favorite book, and i'd like to learn more to understand it. this book mentions a lot of big-name philosophers in the table of contents, including forbidden ones (idk why my brain regards althusser as forbidden).

oh i'm going to work now. k bye...

⋆˚✿˖° click me fantasize me forgive me ⋆˚✿˖°

permanently girlblogging

something is wrong within this body. i am experiencing an state of eviction from myself. my stomach turns, and it is not/mine. i experience an intense state of discomfort. there is a problem within me.

20260927

i feel as if i cannot update my website until i make enough progress on something. 'what do you mean' well the bookmarks aren't enough. i must make progress on the things i said i'd do yesterday. i must read more of the books, or finish something, or---oh, i would like to update the can and the baking pages. i'll update baking once the pandan cream turnovers are done. also the temptation to go out for ice cream in the storm is ridiculously strong. it's such a hilarious idea. it makes zero sense. i want to do it because there's flood warnings and it would be ridiculous. aahhh their instagram post from yesterday says "limited hours" without any clarification on the hours, so i'm gonna skip it.

"i'm obsessed with the 2010s aesthetic" okay, sure --> "i swear i was born in the wrong decade" the 2010s just happened, when were you "i'm 13" yyouch. you're... you're... okay i'm going to go make the pandan cream now.

20260928

oof i need to pay rent. the feminist philosophy book initially comes across as a dud. i'm interested in women who are philosophers (slash dead women who were), not something about mothering and care. i dislike chalking women up to those particular tendencies, likely because i lack those tendencies. there's something offputting to me about immediately leaning into feminine tendencies, thus emphasizing a divide between male / female philosophy, instead of finding unity.

anywho. the continental philosophy textbook opens with discussions on descartes, which quickly drove me back to that book on consciousness that i still haven't gotten around to finishing. i am no longer sure that the mind and the body are separate in any form. "cogito, ergo sum" starts to ring as false---i'm quickly becoming convinced that i, and other people, merely take in stimuli, process it, and react to it. we do predict future stimuli. idk i feel like everything boils down to the things we experience, internally and externally, and how we react to them. i am more aware of my internal world than i am of some other creature's internal world, but my internal world is still an unceasing source of stimuli---reacting to information, colliding it, reacting again, and so on and so forth. do i make any sense?

i'm left with the impression that consciousness and thinking have been romanticized. we are not so different from the other animals and machines. there are differences in our established mechanisms of survival---the fish goes and searches for food, while i have a job to earn money so i can go to a store and buy food---but is there that much more to it?

maybe my thoughts are too reductive. maybe i'm falling down another nonsensical rabbithole of thought. anywho...

later... my stomach is sick with rice. nothing appeals to me. the thought of eating, and of preparing food, repels me. i could stand popcorn, i think/hope/pray. or ice cream. my eating habits reject sense. i contemplate forcing another pastry down my mouth. there is a whistling; when will it vanish?

i urge my legs to move. up, i say, up! let my body rise from the blankets and let my limbs bring me to that delicious pastry, oh so delicious, oh the fruits of my labor, let the goodness fill my mouth and trudge into my stomach; let my hunger feel satiated, let this pain come to an end! i drink more water instead. something is very wrong with me. something is incredibly wrong.

i think of work. i think of coming in 1.5hr early and being surprised at how little time that is---how all of the little details of opening stack up, fifteen five minute tasks accumulating, the complete lack of time and the omnipresence of it! how the necessary prep for the lunch rush must be done first thing, how---how---how---

i hunger for more time. asking for a day off feels like betrayal---can i truly vanish for a saturday? who am i to ask for a weekend? who am i to say "i work too much" when so many others do more than i do?

abandoning the consciousness book doesn't irritate me, but it does leave me feeling like a failure. i did not complete the thing. oh, woe is me! but...well, the problem of consciousness has ceased to concern me. i cannot define what consciousness is, but i'm starting to believe that a) it is a composite of genuinely explainable things (awareness, reacting to stimuli, predicting future stimuli & planning accordingly) and b) denying that is a search for magic. perhaps the section on plants was enough---all was done convinced me that i'm not that different from a plant. i'm not entirely convinced by panpsychism though; i struggle to see how most non-living things could gain awareness and a sense of self. though didn't the apophenion discuss the molecular level of all of these things? perhaps i need to return to that book. it's as if i need to take baby steps---some of the ideas threaten to overturn me, for i cannot refute them, and i am frightened by them. my understanding of existence continues to evolve.

the lack of mystery saddens me. what had intrigued me so much, so many years ago? was it something about understanding the concept of the self? i recall something a man claimed; him telling me about idiots, those truly brainless ones, those who don't seem to have a thought in their head, the mindless automatons---you know the ones, he'd say, they all say. yet i remain unconvinced. are we truly unlike the 'npcs' that he claimed existed? one could argue for there being a difference in complexity of thought---ability to respond to multiple stimuli, ability to continue processing and synthesizing from stimuli---but is that part of consciousness / awareness? they are differences in ability, but not a presence / impresence of the ability.

i'm not sure why i'm still writing here.

from ambivalence: an education, by brian dillon:

This remains the desire: to be remodelled, remoulded, by these figures and works, to find oneself otherwise and elsewhere.

this memoir is beautiful and has provided me with a treasure trove of potential future reading. perhaps cage, of all people---i didn't know he'd written, i only know of that one piece, 4'33"---"What we need is silence; but what silence requires is that I go on talking." potential: silence and the nothing? he mentions the waves, which i too have downloaded to read later---a coincidence or a sign?

i am still measuring myself up against an imaginary standard set by a long lost person. when will it end?

i feel dissociated from my body. it is as if parts of this vessel experience a brief disconnection---the legs are suddenly alien to me, all too still, and then the legs twitch and they're reconnected again.

perhaps i want to read for the sake of reading. if i do not give myself a goal, what am i left to measure myself against? must i measure myself against something? must i measure my life as a failure, and must i continue to find ways to grade how much i've failed, and must i continue to find things to feel guilty for---

i used to read for the sake of reading. now i find myself desperate for a common thread between my reading. i log books i've read and find new recommendations, certain that this will bring a sense of coherency to my life. yet i want to explore beyond the books a website predicts i will like. i want to read something else, something new, something different, something unfamiliar. do i need a common thread? does my reading need to make sense to others?

i chase a feeling---the book i just finished reading, ambivalence, captured it well. i search for relatability. is that truly so strange a thing? again, i curse curse curse. how can i move on from the phantom that haunts my thoughts and words. it's been 2.5yr and you are still here. i reject your thoughts, your tirades, your ranting and yelling and bickering and relentless criticizing, and yet the things you'd said continue to crop up in my head. you failed to mold me into anything, it seems. i continue my reading, nonsensical as it may seem, with a sense of guilt. i am reading the wrong thing. i am reading terrible books by terrible people. i am still reading wrong. how can i call myself a reader, when i cannot say something as simple as the genre i prefer to read? how can i call myself a reader, when my defense of my readings boils down to 'i liek it :D'? how can i call myself anything, when i still insist that 'i' is a vague, unformed, barely-existent thing? how can i---

good lord, you sicken me. if anything, you remind me of the horrid girl from the book of goose, seeking to mold someone, always telling them right from wrong, insisting they're wrong and not good enough and being stupid. sir, i have examined my life; i cannot breach your iron wall with my defenses, for nobody can. my life is mine. you need not understand what it is like to be me, and you need not force others to only be like you. my time around you seems wasted and cursed. i'd swapped one horror for another, or so it seems, and i don't feel as if i can be close to another again. not that we were close; you'd always say i wasn't open, and when i spoke about myself, you'd speak over me and never listen. you ruined so much that it's quite pathetic of me to recall you still.

and so: reading for the sake of reading. reading is what i have done and what i continue to do. i can do things for the sake of enjoyment. hah, i can put enjoyment before obligation---why not be obligated to do what i enjoy? why not subscribe to a pursuit of pleasure before guilt and shame and fear of wrongdoing? i am capable of enjoying something without finding reasons to not enjoy it. my past hours spent reading fade together, and even as the exact details of the books grow dim, the time feels well-spent. i lack regret. rather, the only thing i regret is not starting sooner, and perhaps not abandoning that first book sooner, for while i enjoy reading, i do not enjoy all books. nor do i gain much utility from all books either. and so i venture forth from the pit, again, again, again.

20260929

waking up has overwhelmed me. i choose to get dressed. i choose to clean and put away the fan. all of this feels like too much, but i push on. i have no choice. i need to continue dragging myself through consciousness. the dishes will remain undone, though; i cannot stand them right now. instead, i pay rent, and i send out the bills to my roommates. i tackle my wanikani reviews, and then i do five new lessons.

from the lost steps, by alejo carpentier:

I did not know what to do with my idleness. The sudden rest seemed to have made me ill.

found this on my kindle and have no clue what it's about. do i look for a blurb, or do i continue onward? i want to know what to expect, and yet...

The truth was that now that I had time to stop in front of the stores after months of ignoring their existence, they had too much to say to me.

this is nice, but it is too literary for 11pm. i require something else. something like...oh, those books i received early reviewers copies of. something about zodiac signs and cocktails sounds trashy enough for my current state of mind.

from spirits of the stars, by sirio lumizia:

the Air-sign person never really drinks alone — even alone, they’re holding a conversation with themselves, with a book, with the phone, with the window.

Everything is in motion, and nothing is fixed yet. This quality of mobility is the very signature of the sign: Gemini cannot tolerate stasis, one-dimensional answers, unalterable dogmas, definitions that claim to exhaust a person or a thing. For a Gemini, every definition is provisional, and the next conversation might overturn it entirely.

i'm convinced that book was ai generated. fuck that. i'd like to write my own mixology book (<-- has zero experience) relating cocktails to zodiac signs. the obvious way to go about this would include reading about zodiac signs (proper reading, start with literature published before 2015) and cocktails (this would include hands-on work; study typical cocktails and bartending guides; spend time on recipe creation as well---how does this cocktail relate to properties of this zodiac sign? how could i modify this cocktail to better fit a particular zodiac sign?). naturally, this would include a lot of hard, continuous work, and is something i am not particularly interested in doing. maybe in another life... could be cool to gather up a 'drinking for geminis' book, which would feature a variety of cocktails and mocktails (ooh remember the floral libations book!). anywho how the fuck is it 2am. i looked at my phone and was all "i must be misreading the time it is not 2:07." and sure enough, when i looked at my computer, it was 2:08. i feel great now but if i do not sleep soon i will feel terrible tomorrow. REMEMBER TO DO LAUNDRY TOMORROW. THIS IS NOT A CHOICE.

20260930

it is the end of the month. the words "can't" and "everything is too much right now" overwhelm my brain's vision. funny. i've done my laundry. i've done dishes. my room is clean. i've read for a bit. i've been catching up on wanikani lessons and reviews. i took care of some overdue minor site updates---the can page, and creating a "baking pics" page. baking pictures is the compromise between writing about baking and keeping track of my baking. maybe my writing can be confined to rambling in the diary. i know i grew tired of updating the baking page a while back, and i know i took a break from baking over the summer for obvious heat-related reasons. i started working on a page for writeups for the french patisserie book, but that took too much effort. i needed something easy to update, so i cut to the point and made an uncomplicated page for photos. i'm going to make chocolate chip cookies as soon as this butter reaches room temperature. i don't understand why i feel overwhelmed and upset right now. i think i'll just close the computer and read for a bit. i believe that will resolve something.

why the fuck does my roommate have to be so musically inclined. can you please take five minutes off from humming. does using the kitchen need to be a musical production. could you just quiet down. you are not the only person who lives here. this place used to be quieter. 7am is too early for whistling a symphony, but so are all times of day. this place used to be noisy when people invited other people over, and now the moment she's home it's a constant barrage of noise. i can't wait for her to go back to her parents' place on thursday/friday/saturday/sunday. god the temptation to say "by the way, i can hear everything from the kitchen" is so strong. the walls are paper thin. nothing can stop her. and oh god her laugh. that shrieking, piercing noise. i cannot stand her.

20261001

braindead and annoyed and brainscrambled. the head keeps going: can't can't can't.

still headfried headscrambled headeggsick. the only thing i want is time off from work. i just want a weekend to read and write and bake and not be at work. i think the last time i had a weekend was in may? or maybe july, i'm not sure when the 4th was. yes, i think the 4th was a saturday. either way it's been three months since i last had multiple days off. and still i trudge on. feel trapped in a loop---i need to work so i can pay off the debt. once i pay off the debt i have options. and by "have options" i mean i'm greedy and want to save up for a house.

so much is trapped behind money. i feel like i'm a slave to it, but if i were truly a slave to it i'd go back to school to get a degree that'd qualify me for a well-paying job. i ask the internet what $60k a year is after tax---i think i'd once heard that was a median salary---and in my state it could be about $48k, which would be enough to pay off my student debt within one year (while covering all of my usual cost-of-living expenses + presuming no medical expenses).

i could describe myself as half-trapped; i put the money towards the debt, but i don't work on acquiring a job that'd actually help me with the debt. acquiring a new job would require investing a significant amount of time, energy, and misc. resources into something i don't want to do for the sake of having more money. to me, that would be a waste of time. my job may take a lot from me, and so the rest of my time must belong to me. i cannot let the rest of my time belong to money. i would be more miserable.

am i miserable? i think i'm just tired. i think working six days a week is too much for me. i wish i could work doubles (for the money) and then get two days off. i just want a period of time where i can be away from work. i am also tired of writing about work. gotta compartmentalize better. gotta compartmentalize better. gotta compartmentalize better.

thinking about life as a game---what rules am i playing by? i'll save answering that question for another twilight where i can think. it's nearly 2am again. i'm beginning to think that following semi-arbitrary rules about health is not fit for me. i am terrible at trying to be healthy. pop culture advice does not work for me; it leaves me eating nothing. i keep thinking about finding some liquid meal replacement.

20261002

currently trying to read ハピネス, which appears to be about teenage vampires. i don't really go for manga that's this adult---there's a strong sexual element that i'm just not used to in visual reading. it's not explicit, but like. this guy is reacting to the smell of blood in a classmate's (pad/tampon/well whatever she's using. you get the idea). i'm not sure i like this, but i'm not sure i hate it either. okazaki is such a pervert. i'm half-compelled by the weirdness, enough so that i'm not tempted to abandon the book.

20261004

tired of thinking about money. who cares how long it takes to pay off the student debt. who cares if i spend money on minute things. who am i trying to justify my life to? why do i need to shame myself to much for buying a coffee or a game or a whatever the fuck? none of these purchases add up in a big, important, lifechanging way. i am not one of those 'nospend' people on youtube who can pay off massive amounts of debt when they're not spending frivolously. this does not matter that much to me and i am tired of fixating on it. the student debt will get paid off when it gets paid off. i am not drowning. i am fine. i am tired of thinking like this. i get nothing out of adding additional stress. i am not a human stress ball.

i think i'm starting to see how all the time i've spent looking at health / fitness / productivity / anticonsumerism / low-income finance has had a negative impact on me. i don't need to fixate on how i'm eating and fix it. my eating habits aren't perfect, but i'm not living off of ultraprocessed food either. i think that the internet content i've been looking at has manufactured a sense of distrust. i don't trust myself to eat right; i need someone else to (guilt-trip me) tell me how to eat. i don't need to be in perfect health (i'm probably trapped at 'meh' health anyways; thanks endo! XD). exercise comes and goes, but i am physically active anyways. i'm not sure what the point of productivity content is. anticonsumerism stuff is aimed at what's trending---honey, i am so out of touch with culture, pop culture, and social media that i don't even know what unnecessary purchases everybody is making. my income is low, but i live within my means. i can work on paying off my debt faster, and i am! but i still have flexibility with how i spend a good chunk of my income. i don't need to guilt-trip myself for taking advantage of that. i can look at my spending and see that i don't spend exorbitant amounts of money. i'm not a $70 daily impulse purchase person. i don't know why i treat myself like i am. "red alert red alert i overspent red alert red alert" yeah you went to dunkin four days this week, you also didn't buy groceries. so.

the point of that was supposed to be how the internet has taught me to distrust myself. all i needed to do to figure that out was take a few weeks off of watching youtube. i didn't think i was spending that much time on youtube in the first place, but whatever hours were there were definitely doing something to me. idk man, i'm fine, stop telling me i'm not. i've looked at a few youtube channels i follow here and there, but i'm not turning it on during meals. (what meals?). and i'm playing animal crossing without it on in the background, which has also made animal crossing more enjoyable. there is no 'ugh i have to pick out the next video' or 'i want to stop playing but i have to finish the video first.' i can think more, or maybe i've found fewer thoughts to turn off.

i am working on watching myself make choices and do things instead of planning and guilt-tripping and shameguiltdoomspiralling. "is this what i want to be doing right now? yes? okay keep going. you want to stop and go do something? it's your life, go for it." whadyaknow, i don't think i'm spending my time differently, but i do feel less of a sense of anxiety. i have not unlocked hidden productivity. i have unlocked neutral state of existing and choosing to do things.

i do keep noticing how i resist adjusting to what i want to do. i'm sure inertia has something to do with it. i'm reading a book, i don't want to keep reading it, i need to fight with myself to get myself to put it in the library return bin. i want to go home, so why am i annoyed with myself for returning a book i've realized i'm not interested in?! ugh. then i kept fighting myself on the way home---not wanting ice cream, but somehow feeling like i needed to buy ice cream, wanting to visit the ice cream place but also being supremely disinterested in their current offerings and not even feeling like ice cream anyways, how i wanted to get home above all else, so why am i so fixated on the ice cream place? i don't even want this right now!

20261005

squeezing out two minutes to write before work. i await the great caffeine kick-in. i'm not sure if i a) go to the library tonight or b) visit target, target meaning i could a) buy coffee beans and a filter / Fancy Home Coffee Equipment or b) uhhh canned coffee. i'll see how i feel after work, obviously.

i'm also thinking about talking to my boss about uhhh more work problems! hip-hip-hooray. i do not know how to keep handling the way coworkers over-help me at the expense of their own stations. i'm tired and can't keep putting up with it. there is no reason for it anymore. it gets really obvious when the new folk are overhelping me. "i'm just trying to be useful" you are also behind on your own station. this is not a two person job. please focus on your work and let me do mine. please stop ignoring me and crowding me. this has been an overall issue, and not just with one or two people. same with the constant dismissal / stay out of this / we don't need you here. the guys do not treat each other the way they treat me. i don't want to be rude, but i can't keep acting ignorant either. i don't think they're doing this on purpose, but they definitely don't notice the way they treat each other differently from how they treat me. it's tiring and frustrating and creates more problems. problems problems problems. i hate being the lone woman beside a boys' club.

if i were to draw a map of the skin on my big right toe, i'd point out which areas are easy to remove, and which areas cause pain. see here, and i'd point to the lower part of the toe, just before the bottom joint, this is where the process begins. my fingernails can claw and scrape and ease the skin up. several thick long strands of skin curl up towards the center of my toe. once i've peeled them up as much as i can, i take out the nail clippers and snip off these strands. already the itch begins to lessen. this is not enough. i move on to the top of the toe, where nail clippers remove flecks of skin. i attempt to remove part of the middle part of the toe-skin, but pain radiates from the clippers; this is the skin that cannot be removed. whenever i'm daring enough to push through the sharp pains, i'm rewarded with blood gently poking through. i love watching these tiny trickles of blood exit the toe and collect in the freshly-made wounds. i love dabbing up the blood and squeezing more out. i get a sick sense of satisfaction out of the glimpses of pain. the entire ritual creates stress relief. the itch is eased; the skin is removed; the action is complete.

i was looking at re-admission to my former college. i haphazardly contemplated switching toeconomics, but i hate economics and can't think of a job i want to learn to do anyways. i looked at the world languages program at the community college with the same amount of seriousness. sure, i could learn x y z, but what's the point?

i am ready to sleep. in the morning, please 1) write up new book acquisitions 2) more diary 3) wanikani reviews 4) knock out some new vocab (you need to catch up by wednesday) 5) wow you're still here? don't forget to eat or smoothie or idgaf honestly.

20261006

i feel like i'm about to scream. fuck. why do i have work today. why can i just AAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHH. should be can't. needs to be can't. i'm dying out here. i'm dying and burning and crying. i'm sitting in dunkin for five more minutes before work. i feel like a terrible messy horrible piece of shit. i'm breaking and dying and my body is going to spontaneously combust. i wonder when i will.

at the school library last night and thinking about how libraries aren't places for finding books; they're more like a third space where the students can 1) exist without spending money and 2) socialize / work on group projects / uhhh socialize well 3) study / be on computers / kinda just exist. my local college library is an exemplary example of this because the books do not have bar codes on them. you can remove them from the library without checking them out (which i frequently do... whoops). the library workers seem obsolete. when i was a student and checked books out from them, the workers seemed confused; who is there to check books out of the library? indeed, you have to speak to them to return books; a book return bin didn't appear until this semester. to top it off, books are not returned to the proper location. the organization system seems out of date. every book has two call numbers associated with it; the first string of letters and numbers, and then the second string (arbitrary ex: AE0927.GH7405). notable, the workers inconsistently look at the whole call number; i've frequently found books far from the correct location based only on part of the first call number. you have to be creative when looking for a specific book in the catalogue. was it mis-shelved? was it removed without being checked out? did it get moved (back) to the second school library (yes, the college has two libraries), two miles away? you'll never know...

things i need to address (read as 'write about'):

asking for time off (will she do it?!)
uhhhh goals / lack of
omg MORE abandoned projects?!
tonight's binge-reading
mmm start next manga.
good lord what are you doing with your life.
does the answer to that question exist? does it matter?
'weaving together threads to tell story' vs. articulated plans (pantsing vs. planning) as an approach to life
haphazard thoughts on reapplying to education systems, as well as disillusionment with said education systems
developing a literary education
i want to 1) play some animal crossing 2) catch up on flashcards 3) read the new manga more than i want to do any of those things. i also want to brush my teeth, which i am going to go do now.

fuck my brain is broken. i'm staring at wanikani and not comprehending. my brain looks at some bit of vocab and refuses to attempt to comprehend it. my eyes witness it; my brain screams ABORT ABORT ABORT. there is a growing disconnect between what my eyes see and what 'i' see. just because it is in front of me does not mean i need to process it, except for when i do. increasingly i stare at the pos at work and attempt to decipher the tickets. there are moments of clarity, and then there are moments where, well, it's like the text is just blocked out. this is really hard to describe...

i want to ask for a day off because i feel like i work too much and i need a proper break. a two-day weekend should reset me the way i need to be reset. these pants feel too much like pants right now; i need to change. i have changed and i am free. the skin on my feet itches; i want to take nail clippers to my heels and remove them too. more noise escapes from my roommate's room. i breathe.

i don't feel like i can ask for time off without a valid reason. i cannot provide a valid reason not to be at work. nothing is going on. more likely than not, nothing will go on. i cannot think about work right now. i cannot i cannot i cannot.

visions of non-realities bombard my head. the man at the door is there and gone; mara prowls and vanishes; the closet is a portal and a void and nobody knows what happens when i step inside. it threatens to swallow me whole. SOMETHING, a voice cries out. SOMETHING.

my eyes blink. i want more coffee. i want to stay awake. i want to read and write properly, and not to stare into the distance and live in memory loops and arguments and vanishes. vanishes. vanishes. i can not get to kkepp vanishing.

20261007

the hours pass. who am i to ask for time off? isn't a closing shift enough for me? i'll only work for 7hr today, that's all. i bought a couch and it'll be delivered next week, on friday. i have no idea how i'll get it inside. i don't know how hard it'll be to assemble it either. the dimensions are long enough that, with my mediocre height, i won't struggle to curl up in a ball on it. i relish the though of not sitting on the floor. my wallet pities me, but i will no longer seem so poor and trashy. me, with a couch! a couch from my money!

already, i'm consumed by visions of how pleasant it will be. i will come home and sit on it. i will curl up against the arm and read a book. i will experience comfort. reviews say it is firm and comfortable, but not particularly soft---this sounds perfect. me, on my couch! i'll stack up boxes beside it for a table. perhaps i'll sleep on the floor and live on the couch. perhaps i'll sleep on the couch as well. perhaps i'll have gained a separation from my waking and sleeping life. perhaps comfort, perhaps relaxation, perhaps...

the incessant humming clouds the air. ear plugs re-enabled. who am i to ask for a day off. why does it plague me so. i work six days a week, and i've done that for well over the past year---why should i not ask for a day off? perhaps the saturday fills me with guilt. then again, a monday would be worse; nobody's available. i imagine myself sleeping one day away, and reading through the other, writing accompanying me at all times. i imagine waking up on saturday and thinking: i don't have work today, and going to bed thinking: i don't have work tomorrow either. i imagine turning off my phone and ignoring everything. freedom from work! freedom from the job! freedom...

hooray i asked for a day off. then promptly left because my roommate decided to host a band rehearsal or some shit. SHE IS SO NOISY. would it be bitchy to ask her to give a heads-up when she's having people over and planning on making a lot of noise? or to point out that the college she goes to, that's RIGHT THERE, also has practice rooms that are a two minute walk from where we live? UUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH.

anywho. i have asked for a day off. i am sitting outside the starbucks and staring at the menu and realizing i want nothing. at least this is a campus, so i can sit around without an issue. i needed to get the hell out of the house. uuuuuuuuugggggggggghhhhhhhh. i want to grab an americano from my workplace. so much for quitting coffee.

i'd been following some train of thought about making goals and living life. 'goals' are the equivalent of planning your life, while just living life and connecting the dots are the equivalent of pantsing---that is, going in without a plan and seeing where the story takes you. the first one knows the story it's trying to tell, and the second one is caught in a constant state of deciding where the story goes next. of course, you do not need to decide where the story goes; you can merely try to keep picking up the threads, following threads, and seeing where they take you.

i wonder if some people are built for one method or the other. not sure where i was going with this. i was thinking about 'healthy habits' or lack of. i open up youtube and see recommendations for getting your life together, doing your 'winter arc' (???), 75-hard, and all other manners of 'just adopt these 87 habits and voila!' i used to love the vision they sold you on: do this and you'll be happy healthy and wealthy. your life will be 'gotten together' (for what end? if i do all the things, i'm healthy, and then what? i keep doing them in perpetuity, sacrificing my life to the altar of healthiness?)

this endless pursuit of better without a question of what you're getting better for is starting to bother me. fuck youtube. fuck fitness health wealth life influencers. i hate how much these---trends?---play into a life. they weasel your way in: you need to do these things to be healthy, and it's your body, don't you want it to be hEalTHy? if you don't---well, health is the enemy, and look at all these fat unhealthy people?! is that what you want?!

and it's everywhere. target is full of protein sodas / water / clear sparkling water / coffee / milkshakes / EXTRA PROTEIN PROTEIN PROTEIN. and this is one of those things that you can get from regular ass food. fucking health, i'm tired of being surrounded by it. i do not need to be in the best health. i don't need to make health the center of my life. sure, i'm turning down opportunities---i don't care?!?!! i'm not going to stress out about it. i'm physically active. my phone tells me i'm burning about 1800 calories a day by walking. i don't care.

where was i going with this? guilt-trip fatigue? right. GOALS. do i need them? ehh. if i'm trying to stop measuring myself and just live, then setting goals is antithetical to my goal. nothing needs to be measurable. i just need to do it, and stop overthinking. how to incorporate the thing into life. i am so tired of being told i need to do better be better turn myself into someone else transform into better better better.

and i'm tired of thinking like that. i don't need to get the most out of every hour. i can dawdle along. my dawdling accomplishes plenty. i think if i were to measure my life, i'd be asking myself if i've been spending time on reading, writing, and learning. these activities are flexible and can carry themselves into whatever i'm working on / doing / etc.

i don't want to keep asking myself if i've done enough. the answer isn't whether or not i have. the question is entirely irrelevant. i'm probably going to keep writing these thoughts and repeating them until i've gotten them through my head, so apologies to readers who are going to be tired of me repeatedly coming to the same conclusion.

read another nina berberova book---three short novels, each which was pretty depressing. someone's mother died, died, and died. glimpses of a different russia, so dissociated from society as i know it, run through my mind. these people have little but each other, and when each other dies they're left up to the kindness of strangers; a comraderie over shared circumstances, necessity more than anything else---a negotiation of possibilities, a shared understanding of reality, a non-plentiful life which could end in an instant.

20261008

the fact that my request for time off hasn't been approved yet is creating anxiety. usually he replies to emails pretty quickly...

anywho. reached wk level 7 last night!!! i am very pleased, or i'd like to be; i'm kind of shrugging it off and continuing onwards. i'm sitting in 100+ reviews a day territory. i won't start 'burning' items until next year either...oh well. sometimes everything blurs together and sometimes everything is fine. i'm just trying to power through for the sake of making myself do something, anything, please brain work for me. i just need something to cling on to, and drilling these flashcards kind of fits it. it's easy to go back to, the decision making part has already been done for me, and look i'm learning. i'm even running into more kanji that i'd already seen while reading, which is probably good for learning. i would like to read more of the lonely girl request book tonight. i understand why i didn't get to it yesterday. still, i want to read it!

my main problem with reading it is that it is does NOT Have full furigana, which is making lookups challenging. also idk grammar. ichi.moe can only get me so far. one of these days, i'll start studying grammar. one of these days...or i'll just keep reading, see what i pick up, and shrug it off. i mostly just want to read. i don't have any 'let's travel to japan plans' ever. i'm also realizing that reading foreign languages isn't that bad, it just requires a bit of effort + a metric fuck-ton of patience. maybe i can find berberova's russian somewhere...or i'll try more akhmatova, i get the sense that russian poetry makes a lot more sense in russian. i'm starting to understand how much nuance is lost.

just heard a dunkin worker proclaim that he forgot to clock in like an idiot. MOOD. i remember one time i was working for 5hr before i found out i hadn't clocked in...lol.

visited the school library again. unfortunately, i was there at the same time that one of the students was shelving books...and she was migrating throughout the literature section. by 'migrating' i mean standing at the end of the aisle with a cart and waiting for me to move. she was chewing gum as if her life depended on it; blowing bubbles as if it were a part of breathing. her frantic, noisy manner compelled me to move on from the building long before i had planned to. i'd wanted to re-visit the russian literature section, but got distracted by assorted european literature---i remembered knut hamsun existed and was starting to search for one of his books. stefan zweig's thin volumes caught my eye---i did enjoy 'a chess story,' so perhaps another book of his would satisfy my mind. i spotted two volumes by bernhard, though the one i picked up right before the student worker appeared was a collection of very short stories, which i prefer writing to reading. i moved on.

looking at book recommendations on librarything, and browsing librarything in general, and the sources i use for reading, has dissociated me from the magic of libraries. as i wandered through the barren shelves, i began to remember books i'd read before, authors i'd enjoyed before, and the memories i associated with certain books. the spine of one books recalls a memory of something barely related. and yet---well, there's beauty in it. i skim the shelves and flip through a book---does the prose appeal to me or repel me? mid-way points of six books are all discarded in favor of the seventh: the book that will ease the trouble in my mind.

see, the internet presents me with too many options. there is always a better book out there. there are always more books to look at. i have too many choices to bother with making a choice. and yet the physical qualities of the library act as constraints. my choices are not infinite; they are before me. i cannot dawdle forever. i must make a selection and go home. i cannot look through every book here; i will look through the shelf before me and head out.

unlike the students that fill the library desks, i go to the school library to read, but i am not a student. there is irony here. i remember the student's cart; she had four books to shelve. i remember the carts that read PLACE BOOKS HERE TO BE RE-SHELVED; they are rarely inhabited, and if they are it's a reference book or two. nobody comes here to do research. if the shelves were empty, would anybody notice? they'd catch glimpses of other students through the cracks, the sense of privacy dissolved---but over half of the library is strictly dedicated to space for studying, that is, rooms of chairs and tables without a book in sight. i look at the DATE DUE slips in the books i grab. the majority of these books have never officially been checked out. any that have were checked out so many times that i conclude it was used for a specific class. a library copy of a textbook, maybe.

i exit the library as an interloper in exile. this building is not for me. i take an hour to venture out to target. in the woman's restroom, a parent(?) yells at her daughter. i leave the stall as beads scatter over the floor. "what about my beads?" asks the daughter. "they're garbage now," says the woman, pulling her distraught child out with her.

whatever. i'm home now. i re-organized the room and washed some dishes. my email informs me that the couch will be delivered next wednesday. "i can be a couch potato," i tell a coworker. he informs me that i have been a blanket spud. "and boxed potatoes," i tack on. he chuckles, and says he's learning the difference between　朝ごはん　and　朝飯, both of which appear to refer to breakfast.

i continue to stare into the distance. time passes by without rhyme or reason. who am i writing for? who is reading this? i do not want to go to sleep, but i cannot stay awake either. my request for time off has become schrodinger's cat; it has neither been approved nor denied. i stare at some manga and give up; i don't know enough to get through this. i run through flashcards until i can't handle it anymore. i'll catch up in the morning, i lie to myself. c'mon, can't you do that?

new diary