bit of a shorter one today
a friend of mine sent me an image a while ago which depicted a piece of a greatly unethical study on 'learned helplessness'. i am unsure as to the exact logistics of the study due to both the limitedness of the image and my at best shaky memory, but it involved the electrocution of small dogs. the image claimed that the group 3 dogs demonstrated learned helplessness perfectly, laying down and accepting any and all pain which came their way.
through the emotional ineptitude of both of my parents, i've learned to avoid any and all conflict whenever possible, and if and only if i absolutely have to confront someone on any terms whatsoever i should do so under the pretense of being below the person i am confronting. i am an inferior beast, at best a machine but certainly below human. every single person in the world is higher in their status in life, they all deserve to live before i do. i work with that as a baseline, and make exceptions for the truly depraved and unforgivable, but there are few times in the day to day when those exceptions need to be made. having lived with this weird inferiority complex my entire life, i found it fitting to sarcastically reply to that image with 'dog group 3 wouldn't know nothing about me', or some comment of that sort.
in practical applications this view of my relationship to the world around me has rendered me primarily afraid, and as a result incapable. just across the board unable to *do* anything, which doesn't help when my dopamine levels have been chronically low, or any other half-informed phrase i can use to distance myself from the emotions which spring forth upon coming to terms with the fact that i am literally too sad to do anything. this is quite disappointing, and to a certain degree tragic, as despite my self-hatred and chronic depression i recognize that i have a fair bit going for me. i am a pretty decent musician which a lot of experience in that field, i approach every individual with as much kindness as i can muster despite the neurological barricades which attempt to prevent me from displaying anything but total neutrality. i have a good understanding of politics, and believe i am on the right side of history on a lot of issues at the very least in ideology (less so in praxis naturally because of the incapability to accomplish even basic tasks). my friends tell me i'm funny. i've run out of things to put on this list, but that's enough to come to the conclusion that i do not appear to be totally lost in this world given this specific set of data.
given the other set of data though, it becomes much more disappointing. i can't be responsible with money, i can't even get a job interview at a place which would give me more hours than my current one, i can barely leave my room when my dad's in the house, i can't look my mother in the eyes, i can't remember to wash a pan i used a couple hours prior, i can't keep my desk clean, i can't be bothered to hang back up the poster 1 meter to the left of me, i can't remember to put my water glasses in the dishwasher when i am done drinking water from them, i can't get through a 3 hour shift at work without having to cry in the employee bathrooms as of late-
i need to stop because this isn't getting me to any of the points that i'm trying to make, but you get the idea, i feel utterly useless because of 3 trillion microscopic things that my mind will never let me outrun, i just kill my consciousness by playing a video game, talking to my friends, listen to youtube videos while doing the first thing, listen to music while venting about my problems on a public neocities page which has garnered an alarming amount of view which i fear are not just my own.
the short and short of it is that i just don't get shit done, which makes me feel terrible, which makes me do less things. i get so little shit done that i just stay awake hoping that i'll do something that feels as if it can constitute as *something*, like this entry given that writing is something i'm evidently passionate about given my trashed notebooks, deleted google docs and 6 page unfinished handwritten deltarune fanfiction (which is quite a lot for someone who days prior to starting wouldn't have even imagined writing fanfiction to begin with (it was a krusie fic for the record (for the record x2 combo: no, i will never release it. it sucks, and you know i mean it because you're able to read all this shit))).
perhaps i even work on whatever the fuck slurm contrivance is, which is constantly entering a hiatus because i didn't really plan far ahead with it, and i'm trying to go back into the past to construct train tracks that weren't there when i started. i don't even know if what i have to say is worth it, or if it will be said in a way that satisfies me.
ANYWAY let's move on to what actually sparked the idea for beginning this little writing piece to begin with. i started my annual 100%(ish*1) playthrough of super mario odyssey, which has become a tradition very near and dear to me. i've done it every winter break since at least 2022, but it feels infinitely longer than that for some unknown reason. i have a couple plans for this current one once the run hits post-game and im just warping through paintings trying to accumulate as many moons as i can so that the cutscene of depositing them lasts as long as physically possible. last year was the first time i listened to To Pimp a Butterfly, which single-handedly shifted my taste in music by so much that it's hardly believable that it's only been a year since then. i will revisit this album during the playthrough, as well as revisit DAMN. for all the reasons i talked about in my last entry.
so i was playing some SMO, and i'm pretty early on, before the first boss in the sand kingdom, and i open my youtube home page to see a recent remix of fallen down from the little game undertale, so i click on it and holy shit it's incredible, it's lush and it makes me cry and i honestly can't really explain the feelings behind things that make me cry other than just showing you the thing so check it out, i'm not one for monstercat remixes usually but this was fucking insane. so to get to the point, the solumn and also sad energy had me reflecting on something that my recent first read of 17776 brought to mind, and it's the idea of post-scarcity. humans spent hundreds of years not doing fucking anything because there's no inherent reason to do anything. even wasting time serves its purpose in our world, because it makes us happy enough to continue living. approaching the technocapital singularity is only slowed by the human spirit's desire to do dumb stupid bullshit (see jon bois' "God hates a coward" for more on that idea). the dumb bullshit of course will only increase the more abundance of living we have. the more guaranteed life that is given, the more we can slack off a little and build another blimp cause fuck it why not? the strange thing is when there is an exception to this rule, and there is no action taken to make the most of the limited time one is given. it the strange thing is observed when someone only has about 3 years to live, and just plays video games and talks to their friends all day.
i haven't done shit this year. i got (to be reductive) addicted to weed, quit weed, played deltarune, tried to recover from playing deltarune, had about a month where i didn't consider myself to be depressed, got hardcore into deltarune again because it never really kept much distance from me to begin with, happy as i may have believed myself to be, and i just started crying a lot about really anything. i'm sad it hasn't snowed yet. i'm so fucking sad it hasn't snowed yet, it doesn't feel like christmas, this isn't *right* it needs to snow i need it to snow, PLEASE let me see it snow one more time before the end of 2025. it's part of why i postponed my SMO playthrough for much longer than i typically may, it just dosn't feel "christmassy" enough right now. it makes me sad. i love december. yeah, elly i miss her too
winter's my favorite holiday, why isn't it right!! it's fucking me over here, i can't take it im so scared it will never feel like it used to even just one year ago. though i don't want it to feel that way, i was fucking weird! in a worse way than i am now!!!
i've only got a few years left to live. after deltarune fully releases all bets are off. i'd give myself a year max after the game comes out. despite this, i just lay down and be sad and get more sad, it's a cycle and i can't really break out of it because i want nothing less than to have to go through explaining every little event that's led me to become what i am now to another therapist who ultimately won't be helpful in the slightest because they can't really see eye to eye with me, they don't really connect with me just kind of tell me things that have made other people feel better. and i can't really dump all this on my friends because i'd feel bad and frankly the text dumping would get old, i know only few of my friends really care for reading AND I MEAN NO DISRESPECT it's just like i feel it, it's some weird sub-verbal communication begging me to please wrap it up every time, so i kind of hurry on through everything, failing to contribute adequate context, and my story gets fucked up and the emotional beats are all missed cause i'm just skipping to the end, and i really want to tell everyone why i love deltarune so much to the point it is almost offensive when someone claims to understand just how much i love it, because then they'd understand and perhaps feel greater appreciation for my love of the game or something!
i don't know maybe i'm just an attention whore and i hope that someone reads this and can be a better therapist than all the 6 i've had in the past 10 years. or maybe my plan is actually to release this slightly pre-mortem and leave them as supplemental material to my suicide note, because i'm all for proper context and understanding the full scope of every single situation in the world, even when the context is a little disjointed but at the same time that also contributes to adding context, as it's just straight stream of consciousness shit, you gotta deal with what i do on the second-to-second basis, frozen in time forever thanks to neocities dot org, and if the website fails these are easy enough to back up anyway! its just text after all.
perhaps the same is true with slurm contrivance, i mean it only makes sense that i would release the bulk of it after i'm too dead to recieve any criticism for it, and because of the whole 'giving my life to it' aspect, it resonates with people just a little harder and makes the whole schtick more like sad to read which is kind of the whole point of it. i don't want people to hear the iconic slurmcore sound and laugh, i want them to be a little distressed because they understand the damn themes! but i haven't done character writing how the hell is this gonna turn out dude.
breathe my chest gets tight when i imagine a future where i'm not in hometown and my friends aren't monsters
i guess what i'm getting at is i'm an artist who's chronically unable to make art because of incredibly severe, unrelenting depression. and if you know anything about artists, that's *very* *very* bad! the only thing more agonizing than the art making process is the not making art thing, because when you're not making art why bother breathing at all, it's not being productive! and that's saying something if your definition of productive allows unprofitable bullshit to be thrown under that umbrella. i would always sneak away to play the piano at my childhood friend's house
i guess despite the countdown being pretty short, though, it has been shorter so maybe it's actually such a surplus of time from my perspective that i can't do antyhing at all about it, cause i'm in it for the real long haul a long ass life of 21 whole entire years.
*1 all moons, all purple coins
stop highlighting the text god fucking damn you. i can't really talk to people about weed or romantic partners because i know that both in my current state both would be incredibly detrimental to me. especially the former but the latter would be great for like a week then my own mistakes in the relationshiop would become unavoidably apparent and i get so scared that i just ghost them and maybe text them a while later about how sorry i am, i think that's what happened last time i dated someone i don't want that to happen again cause it's just weird and i don't htink that anybody can realistically put that much trust in me i really truly do not eblieve it would be wise whatsoever to put so much trust in me that you can allow yourself to tell me that you love me, it's disgusting that someone would think that i am worthy of recieving love, and i know damn well that i'll never convince myself of such.
i'm too scared to start crocheting another sweater after i lost my old one. i think i'd get too impatient and either never finish it or rush it and have it turn out shit. i feel like i need to cause it makes me feel more like me. same with listening to boxing day and blid and iwytktia/ihtya and teod-
the thought gets more intense every time it returns to me, it's so fucked up. god it's so terrible. if it wasn't so awkward it'd be nice for people to call me kris
thinking like this doesn't make any fucking sense, it's as if their existence was superimposed over mine, we [S]collided and now it's like both are just one weird fucked up teenager who just keeps getting older while staying so attached to the past. part of that sentence doesn't make sense logically anyway, like not in the slightest! "it's as if my existence was superimposed over mine", what the fuck does that mean
two beings can occupy the same space at the same time it seems! and the worst part is they become one thing! one weird dog fucker who lines their walls with countless posters featuring someone who feels more like them than themself.
i know it's not logical, i know it doesn't make any fucking sense, i know it's weird and it's offputting and everything but i can't view me as anything but myself, this is inal---- cut off this sentence now i don't know where it's goign i'm just saying the same shit repeatedly like af ucking dumbass
if not already apparent by the excessive number of typos i've not bothered to correct i am getting increasingly tired and frustrated with my fatigue not allowing me to get my ideas across exactly how i want, they don't hit right it doesn't make sense anymore if it ever did at all, fuck this is so disjointed.
i'm hiding from you at the QC's