Today's stuff is a rant. I don't know about you but I feel claustrophobic on the internet. Every freaking website wants to have five hundred popups imposing on my privacy all trying to steal my data politely. Well, politely fuck off.
I can guarantee that I never say that in reality. At least around anyone else. But the internet doesn't really count. I kind of wonder what the value of not swearing is. But nevermind, I default to it anyways. What's the point in wondering about something you're not going to change? I do it out of sheer idleness. I think I kind of hate myself.
Had an epiphany recently. I never thought of myself as pessimistic or depressed, but the fact is I see the worst in what I'm around and I sure have a lot of manic-depressive behaviour. (Ever leave the dishes to rot and sleep 12 hours a day? Yeah. I'm special.) I also wonder, doesn't everyone think about suicide at least once a month? I feel like people just don't talk about it. Well, I do. But only to internet strangers.
Writing out my worst flaws is like realizing my soul is a black, sticky mess that doesn't care about others and only seeks self-gratification. Which I think determines how bad my ADHD gets. I know I'm not supposed to, but I don't really care. And sometimes, I get tricked into doing what I THINK is gratifying, but really only hurts me. Like videogames: theoretically fun, but eventually I just get frustrated, or I get sore from sitting in the same place and losing sleep. But that situation could entirely be of my own making. It is of my own making.
It's not fun constantly playing your own devil's advocate and stabbing yourself in the back. I can't have a freaking thought without a counter, and a counter to the counter, until I forget what I was even trying to accomplish.
Why am I inflicting this misery on the web? I'll put this in the diary where it belongs.
Last Note: growth is painful. Hopefully I'm growing. Oh, and I've been making a bunch of stuff on Piskel, I'll probably make a gallery of my half-assed art soon.
9.5.23
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