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This may or may not be my last update.

These past few months have been weird. I'm not in any serious danger, since I don't really do anything wrong, but it just feels like I've been living in the Twilight Zone since the last incident. Everyone is just so judgmental and overly sensitive these days, to the point where I really do need to not bother with anyone and just go somewhere else. There is nowhere else to go, though, at least not right now. And there is nothing I can do about people being the way they are right now, so as such I just need to keep a low profile and stay indoors.

I hate it. I mean, I don't hate myself, I don't hate my life, I just hate how the world is right now (at least my neck of the woods). Things have just gotten so odd; my brother was over here for my mother's death anniversary (fifth year) and it was fun to be around him, drinking Rolling Rock together in my apartment and beating him at Street Fighter II on the Sega Genesis (out of ten matches, he only won twice; that surprised me since I'm not good at those games, either). But even he noticed that things were off back when he walked back to my father's house because he was too drunk to drive (I told him not to); he noticed on the way back that there were a lot of closed businesses and there were, indeed, a lot of cop cars around, which I had warned him about. The cops were everywhere for about three weeks, and even others noticed that. They are mostly gone now, but I still wonder what the hell that was all about. My brother just chalked it up to a lack of students and crime rate going up. The first part is definitely true (you don't see a lot of students anymore, even during the school year, although there are a few younger people walking around at night, for some odd reason), but I don't know about the second. I certainly hope that isn't the case.

I am drinking beer again, although I only drink about two beers every other day and I rarely get intentionally drunk anymore. I do smoke, though, and that sort of bothers me. I don't think that I'm going to die from it anytime soon, but I still don't like it. At least I don't have any reason to think that I'm irresponsible with alcohol anymore, especially since I hate it half the time I even have one pint.

I somewhat overspent this month; not too proud of that, although I think it was because I was depressed. I don't even spend that much; I just have very little money. I used to buy coffee a lot, but now I get it with EBT from Winco, and that stuff is surprisingly decent. If I sell some of my stuff and watch my finances, which I'm normally good at, I don't think that I'll be in any deep shit. Most who would see what problems that I currently have would likely roll their eyes and think "You have got to be kidding me", because most people have way worse problems. But it does kind of irk me that even the typical poor can afford to have a nice dinner at a restaurant at least twice a month, whereas I can't. Sucks.

Moscow seems to be shrinking to me. I can't go to the university (still don't want to talk about that, but it wasn't my fault), the bars are all filled with overly sensitive types who were nothing like that as little as two years ago or less (with the exception of one, but I only go there when few people are in there, because it small and almost always crowded), I don't want to go to the churches (wouldn't do any good, anyway), I don't want to go near the house that my mother died in if I can help it (the fact that my father married some stranger who got most of my mother's stuff doesn't help), I don't want to go to Starbucks (too expensive, too crowded, and the people there are too liberal), and even the smoke shop that I regularly go to probably isn't that welcoming any more. Someone there innocently told me that a guy that I knew of for years is leaving, and I innocuously asked him about it the next day; he got all strained and quietly mad, but I mistook it for him making some sarcastic joke (he had done that in the past). As it turns out, he's getting fired. I have no idea why because he is educated and worked there a bit; I merely told him that someone told me and he said "Yeah I know. I'm not happy with that person." I looked over to the other dude, who never seemed to have a problem with me, and he shook his head and mouthed "It wasn't me"; the man I was talking to wasn't looking, so I just quietly nodded. Having the wisdom to get out of there, I told those two that I hoped they had a good day, and the other dude (the one who gestured "It wasn't me") sadly said "You too." As such, it would be a good idea not to go back there anytime soon.

It sucks. I can't get close to anyone anymore, not that I really wanted to. I told this to my friend (really my only one by this point) and he confirmed. I told him about the incident and I asked him if it was my fault. He said that some of it was my social awkwardness but for the most part, it was simply me being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I came to that conclusion before he did. I told him that now he knows why I want to be a hermit, and he fully understood.

I was reading some of my former entries here, with me talking about friends. I have no memory of anything like that now. Odd how you can forget your friends or what you said or did with them, because they all (or at least most) will stab you in the back eventually. I think it is for two reasons: I am an older man who doesn't have any status or money, and I'm out of any social networking loop. I was tolerated at the university because I once had people there that would "support" me, but once one moved away, the other gradually turned away. I'm not really that creepy, I mean I don't hit on anyone and I don't talk to people I don't already know, or at least know of. I guess being an older nobody is enough to offend people, even though I did occasionally say some off-color jokes to my so-called "friends" (I did that for several years though without incident before THE CHANGE, so it isn't my fault). That one "friend" who turned on me? I knew that person for six and a half years, and that one never did anything about it until this year; nothing I did until early this year was any problem at all, or at least that person was very good at pretending, giving me free coffee and shit. I talked about that to my therapist, my only remaining friend, and others, and they were baffled. Just a bunch of liberal intolerance and bullshit at its finest. And I feel that it will likely just get worse, because of the narcissism fueled by social media. People really have to get their fucking heads out of their asses, I mean I eventually did, although when no one else does, all you can do is run or hide. When the other side takes power (the alt-right, and they likely will, sooner or later) those people won't know what the fuck to do. They wouldn't run and they'd be too stupid to hide, even if they could by that point. At least I can still do that.

Of course, other stuff happened as well, but I don't want to talk about it. Mostly about how my father acted during the death anniversary; acted bizarre during the cookout the day prior to it and when we were at the graveyard (my brother invited him, what an idiot...) he never said a single word about my mother, and didn't even look at my mother's grave that he's also on until my brother caught him not looking. He then just did the same stuff that he did last time he was there, in 2014; just completely unmoved and pointing to my brother our relatives. It was completely inappropriate, and I told my brother that I don't want him there again. Of course, he saw nothing wrong with it. At least they didn't go on some hike or fire guns in some backwoods road, although that was only because my father's new wife had a doctor's appointment. All the time I was there, my father never said a single word about my mother. He even forgot about it until I brought up that my brother was coming down a while back; this happened as soon as 2015.

Now you know why I can't get close to people. All relationships barely have anything genuine behind them, if they do at all. I learned that the hard way, but I did adapt to it, at least. Admittedly, the growing pains are quite painful indeed. You really do go a little nuts when no one cares about you, but no one really cares about anybody, they only pretend. Young minds aren't used to that, though; they have to have the illusion that the world is warm and welcoming. Breaking the false image into reality can drive one insane, but I'm used to that by now.

I don't know what I want to do anymore. I sort of sworn off drugs and I'm not quite passionate about anything. I've been thinking a lot about how I should continue down this long (or not so long) course of life and I do need to change a bit, because I was pretty juvenile for a while. I don't really want to do anything for anyone; not primarily out of selfishness, but because I'm just so used to seeing people giving me bad looks in the streets, including some people I had known in the past. Why help anyone like that? Other people just look like bags of flesh to me; I don't even hate them, I just don't feel any attachment, and wisely so. I wasn't like that when I was a bit younger; I wanted to know more people and know more of the world. But there is only so much that is worth knowing. As for the bad looks, even two years ago it was different; I can recall one person openly giving me the evil eye in public. In fairness, I think others have caught me looking at them wrong, too. At least I'm not spineless.

On the lighter side of things, I do like playing video games and I discovered that Appian Way Pizza, while it is messy to make and looks gross when made, is actually very cheap and delicious, although probably not that great for you. I still want to do things with my life, but I have to focus on the here and now, rather than be in some imagined dreamy La La Land where I have achieved all that I can never achieve, ever. Sad thing is that "now" doesn't provide much, although it is still better than just a dream.
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I am still not drinking any alcohol, which is great. My therapist thought that it was impressive that anyone could stay way from it for that long. However, there may still be aftereffects from not drinking for so long, since my brain was just flooded with that stuff for years and now it has to readjust. Someone today showed me an image of brain scans of an alcoholic who wasn't drinking as opposed to one who was intoxicated; the sober one had low brain activity, whereas the intoxicated one looked like the normal control. I've always figured that alcohol was a form of self-medication, and that I was likely hugely depressed before I started to drink alcohol, but now I think it has gotten worse than it used to be, although I will say that I'm still able to function as an independent adult and I still seem to be fairly intelligent.

This month was a little weird. I used DXM for a while but I decided to stop, because for some reason it was making me very irritable and emotionally enraged for a day or two after I used it. This never happened when I was drinking alcohol; I think that the two substances operate on some of the same receptors in the brain, and as such when you aren't doing one, the other might start to have more intense effects. Back when I still drank alcohol, I would be very calm and peaceful after I used DXM; now, I have to restrain myself from screaming. Outside of that possible cause, I really have no idea why it is like this now.

I didn't go to the university today. I'm getting a vague feeling that the last friend that I have there doesn't want me around so much anymore, although she is still pleasant. It was time to move on, in any case, but I really should just gradually taper off, instead of not ever going back, ever. I had an excuse because I had to go to Pullman today, so I can just tell her that tomorrow.

In general, I don't think that I'm going to bother with people anymore. I mean, I just don't connect with anyone, even if they don't have a problem with me. I sort of realized that I don't have any close friends, and the few friends that I have would turn their backs on me if I crossed a line or two. It has always been like that, this is just how people are. I'm not angry at anyone or anything, I just can't feel for others anymore. It used to be that I could have a lot of hatred for people, but now I don't think that I can even hate anyone anymore. Maybe I could, but it would be too much personal investment and it is a waste of time. I still like living in the world, but other people have been kind of a disappointment, I guess. I didn't used to be like this; I was once someone who idolized other people and looked for mentors. But now, I can only look towards myself, for not only am I an odd person with an odd set of cultivated skills and wisdom, but no one else gives a shit, either. I feel that I became this way due to the neglect that I have faced.

I was thinking for a while that I was becoming less intelligent and I was losing my memory, but that usually turns out to be false. But it is always best to be on your guard about that.

I renewed the lease for this year. I think that it would have been premature to have moved this year, but if trouble happens with my father (which it might), then it might pose a problem. He is currently gone on his sailing trip with his girlfriend; they reached the end of Baja and sent me an e-mail that wasn't very grammatical, although it was better than the others. He then called me last morning, and woke me up. We talked for only two and a half minutes; the tone was pleasant, but he just wanted to know if he got any odd mail and if I had been doing the chores. He said that it was a dollar a minute to call; that isn't going to set you back very much, and he could have at least asked me how I was doing. I at least would have been polite (not that I wasn't). I'm pretty sure that this is pretty revealing, and if they come back from the trip I might not want to have anything to do with them.

I've actually felt very calm as well; sometimes I feel that there are no problems whatsoever, which is a first since I moved back here seven years ago. I think that it is because I have the security of knowing that my father isn't around, and I can kind of forget about the whole thing. That actually has been very nice for me, and I've realized that I can have a relatively happy and productive life if I finally escape all of this bullshit. Most people have told me "No, don't move..." but honestly, I've been here for years and have given everyone so many chances, only to become more burdened and calloused. Would it be selfish of me to leave? No more than everyone else has been, I think. And besides, I've just been unhappy for so long. There have been moments where I look out to a view while drinking a beer or a coffee, or smoke or otherwise am on some drug, and I feel a sense of beauty and peace, but in general these past seven years have really, REALLY sucked, and I finally have the balls to get myself out of it. Maybe I'm hitting my mid-life crisis early, but I really have no where else to go but somewhere else. I mean, why stay here, with all the broken hopes, promises, and painful memories? I just want to live somewhere else, and have a new life.
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2017 has been good so far, but I feel that I might need to keep a low profile.

There is one very good thing: I have stopped drinking alcohol and smoking tobacco. I have been clean from those things since the 30th of last month, and I don't want to abuse those substances again. Oddly, I do not have any sleep deprivation anymore; I tend to get tired earlier and I often wake up in the early morning automatically, although I usually go back to bed since I'm still very tired.

I have gotten kind of depressed, though. The type where you are afraid of sitting down, because if you do, you are afraid that you might not get back up. While I am psychologically sad half the time, most of the time it is just a lack of energy. But I'd rather feel like that than to feel nothing at all, so as such it isn't too bad.

I'm actually very surprised about how easy it is to not drink and smoke. I decided not to do those things anymore because they were making me poor, and I also realized that I had been getting drunk almost every night for over six years and it didn't solve any problems. In a way, I feel like I'm back to square one (before I drank constantly, in my mid-20s), but I also am starting to think that I am older than I actually am. I just recently turned 33 and I'm already saying that I am 34; it is strange.

I met a guy at the co-op a few weeks ago and we started talking; he asked if he could see my writing and I said sure. I sent "Threads of The Mind" to him, and he really liked it. We then decided to talk about it at the University, which took place two days ago. It was a little awkward, but I still liked talking to him and I was flattered that he wrote a bunch of notes about my document. We talked for over an hour and a half; it was actually pretty cool. We'll likely talk again sometime; he has actually motivated me to write again. He isn't as articulate as me, but he's very open-minded and seems to understand when you explain the material.

My brother seems to be more busy with his life; we don't talk on the phone as much anymore. He does a lot of stuff with his girlfriend, which is okay, but I guess brothers move on after a certain age. My father had me read the bills to him on the phone; he is leaving on his sailing trip in a few days. His girlfriend also had me open stuff, and I found out that on her life insurance, my father is the primary beneficiary. She has two daughters, so that seems a little off. I don't know what to make of it right now; I haven't told anyone about it.

That is about it. I am thinking about moving to another apartment in town, but I have no idea how to do that. I might not be able to, but I'm starting to get a bad feeling about living here. I want to move away from the town, too, but this year isn't the right time for that.
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December was somewhat of an odd month. I was pretty emotionally upset for a while, and drank a bit more than I had in months. But I still didn't get drunk every day, and I've toned down on it again; in the past week, I've only had alcohol twice. I also smoke a lot less, which is good. I have a fairly strong resolve to stop those bad habits, because it is really hard to have them the older you get. Not to mention, that around my age it isn't seen as being cool anymore and you really just feel like a loser.

I figured out that the reason why I do these things, is really because I do nothing else. This is probably due to low self-esteem, and low energy levels. But the thing is, is that alcohol just makes those issues so much worse. And I have been doing that for years, and what has it done for me? Nothing, at all. Nothing good, at least. I don't completely blame myself, because if it wasn't for the toxic environment that I was in ever since moving back from MTSU, I wouldn't have done that, at least as horribly. Nonetheless, it has just sent my life to the sidetracks, and I'm going to have a hard time getting back on the right path. It is still not too late, especially since I have achieved things in life, but I honestly feel that the chances are low. Still, may as well keep on trying, because the only certain failure is to quit.

I feel that I will start painting. I have always wanted to do that, but hesitated, because again, fear of failure. As someone who has paid attention to surrealism and alternative art for about ten years, I feel that I have gleaned some inspiration, and I certainly have the drive. I will admit that I don't really know enough about technique, but I don't really fuss over the details; it is far more about the message, the greater picture. I feel that painting will keep me from drinking and will actually give me something that I can appreciate. I doubt that I will be absolutely wonderful at it, but I'm not trying to be famous; I have a genuine curiosity about it. The fear of failure is still there, but in reality, how can you really fail at it when you are only doing it for yourself?

My brother came over here a week and a half ago; we went to a restaurant that had all these fancy televisions in it, and then we saw Rogue One. That was actually a good movie; I was surprised, because I generally despise science fiction. It was great having him around again, and we both laughed a lot. I also had Christmas with my father and his girlfriend; that was nice enough, but I detected a mildly sad vibe from him. I asked them questions about the sailing trip (they are going to leave for it in a week or so), and his girlfriend didn't really have an idea about the whole thing, but I could tell that my father knew that they could realistically both die. It is a little disturbing, to be honest. My brother acts like nothing bad is going to happen, but I don't know.

Overall I've just been a little stressed and emotionally snappy and tense. I wish that I wasn't, although since the holidays are almost over, I feel that I will be back to a better condition soon enough.
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This month was really weird.

The election happened three weeks ago, and to my surprise, Trump won. I actually had a feeling that he would win, and even had a precognitive dream that he would win by a landslide (he did). Still, I had no proof, and I was a little worried at first, but when it turned out that he won, I was just happy that the other person lost, and that I won't have to put up with most of the liberal bullshit for a while. I spent several days afterwards in a euphoria, and I started drinking again to a somewhat greater extent. But after a week later, I burned out, and now I feel really shitty.

I didn't even vote. It wouldn't have mattered, anyway.

I turned 33 nine days ago. I was dreading it, but when I had my birthday, I felt relieved, but after it passed I started wondering if I was really living my life as I should be. I honestly feel really pathetic about myself. I have to admit that the past six and a half years have been a disappointment and I feel like I am damaged goods, although to be fair, I broke down a lot later than most people in my situation tend to. I don't really think about it anymore; 33 isn't that horrible of an age, although to be honest my life was a lot more fun back in my early-to-mid 20s.

I've been getting dreams that are a lot more vivid now, since my birthday past. I think that if you are still celibate every three years or so after you hit 30, you gain more magical power. These dreams often tell me things that I need to heed, like the one I had before the election. I like them so far, and I wonder how powerful they will get later on.

Thanksgiving was weird. I didn't even have a proper Thanksgiving, although I did get a nice traditional meal for free the day before on campus. It was at a cafeteria that I hadn't had a meal at in several years, and it was also the first time I had a free meal in a while. I was very appreciative of it. Two days after the holiday, my brother was in town and we all had dinner together; the two of us also hung out at the mall beforehand and went to a bar afterwards. Being at the mall with him was wonderful, and he bought new bed-sheets for me as a birthday present, but the dinner was a little strange and going to the bar was a little depressing. No one at dinner said anything horrible (at least not intentionally) but I had to wonder, "What would Mom think of this?" As for the bar, my brother chose a bar that I used to go to when I was in my late 20s; there was a bartender there that I hated and he gave me a cold glare, although it was not particularly menacing. I quietly told my brother for us to move upstairs because I couldn't stand the guy, and he acted like it was mildly humorous. I loved talking to my brother, but we only had one beer each and didn't feel well; part of that was the meal we had (it was too greasy, although not bad-tasting), but we although thought that the beer was a bit off. Not just that, but I got a really bad vibe from the place, and if it wasn't for my brother there, I would have freaked out on the inside. So obviously, we didn't get drunk, and it would have been inappropriate, in any case.

My brother left the next day, and he got home fine. He cleaned my floors when he came by in the morning, and that prompted me to clean my bathroom. It was sort of a big task, and I did do it, but it took me a while. I didn't even hate doing it, despite it being kind of gross; I just work too slowly, and it annoys me.

Other than that, few things have happened, I think. Time has passed very slowly, for some reason, and the fabric of reality seems to have been restructured in some way. But it is kind of nice, in a way.
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Another weird month that was a bit long, although it seemed to go by relatively fast in the beginning. I should probably update more, but that might not be necessary since not a lot goes on in my life.

I'm feeling a bit better. I'm not so emotionally rattled or upset anymore, but that just recently happened. I think that the withdrawal has gone away, for the most part; I still have problems going to sleep, but they are more mild, and I wake up a bit earlier than I used to. I decided to eat meat again, because my teeth were starting to feel more sensitive and odd (they still do, to a lesser extent), although that might have been due to the stress that I was going through.

Over two weeks ago, I went to Lewiston to have a dental check-up. They had to delay my appointment by a few hours, so I decided to check out the town. Lewiston is a relatively depressing place, but there are some interesting things about it; a lot of urban decay. It is a fairly poor, working class small city that likely used to be a bit wealthier due to the now non-existent gold mines around the region. I've seen the postcards of the main street of Lewiston in the 1950s, and I couldn't recognize it at all; it just seems a lot larger and more fancy. Oddly, that historic image looks more like the version of Lewiston that I have in my dreams than the current version. A lot of industry is there, such as an inland seaport, bullet factories and paper mills. It smells really bad. When I went back to Moscow, it was like entering the nice neighborhood of a run-down city. I hate the road that you have to use to go to Lewiston, because you have to go down a very steep decline on massive hills (practically mountains); many people have died on that road.

Last weekend, my friend who moved gave me her furniture. She was at my apartment with her husband, and it was a bit awkward for all of us. I told her before she came over that I should clean up, but she told me that it wasn't necessary. It wasn't that dirty, but it was pretty spartan (still sort of is) and I could tell that she and her husband got weird vibes from it, although it was relatively mild. They weren't disgusted, per se, but nonetheless I don't think I'm going to be hearing much from her again. If she was another person, I could understand, but she had known me for five years and I never laid a hand on her, and never will. I wasn't interested in her like that. I'm not mad at all, I just feel slightly violated; it wasn't like I had cartoon pornography hanging on my walls. To be fair, I might be over-interpreting the whole thing, and I can't clearly remember it, so as such it probably wasn't a big deal. At least the chair that I got from them is great; I use it to meditate, which I've been doing for about an hour each day. I think that is the reason why I'm relatively chill right now, because I've learned how to relax.

I talked to my sister today; we talked for about two and a half hours on the phone. She is fine but is highly worried about me talking about not being on SSI, which our brother was pressuring me to do. I told her that I wouldn't, but she was still insistent, and asked me what I should do with my time. I offered to go to a chess club, write an epic poem like Beowulf for NaNoWriMo, and to continue meditating. She approved of them, with the focus on the chess club because she believes that I should get out of the apartment more. She was also upset about other things, which was hard to deal with because I had triggered her unintentionally, but we resolved them, for the most part.

I really should never go off of SSI. I just have relatively low self-esteem, because despite my intelligence and degrees, I haven't amounted to anything yet. Both me and my sister were talking about our memories losing focus, and we both concluded that it was due to aging.

Overall I'm really not angry or upset. It is kind of hard to be, now that there isn't really anything to be upset about, as well as the fact that it doesn't do any good. All the times I've had anger, it just resulted in me having a lot more problems, so I just try to let it go now, unless if I have no choice. Since the visit, I've wondered about what I do in private, and if they are the right things for me to do (I don't do anything horrible or illegal). I now realize what if people knew about them, and how it would mess with me. There are people who make me look entirely normal, even in private, but nonetheless I do have to add that I am a little off. A part of me realizes that I should grow up and be a little bit more selfless, at least in focus. And as for the visit, I really just feel relief about it, since that will likely never happen again, and it really wasn't that horrible. If anything, she was probably just surprised that I live my life with too little possessions, especially given my upbringing. She did seem somewhat impressed with my book collection, though. Either way, live and learn.

For the most part, I have reason to be somewhat positive about the whole thing. Or at least, I shouldn't be negative about it.
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It has been over a month since I've last wrote here. I would say that I was lazy, but in truth I just had to wait a while in order to see what was really up with my life.

My brother came down here in the first portion of this month in order to see my mother's grave, but had to leave a day before the actual death anniversary because he had to work at his new job in Everett and didn't have enough tenure there to have days off yet. It was nice to have him around; he seemed to have his shit together and to be finally making the right decisions. He was really concerned about my mental health, though, since not being on Olanzapine has made me less focused in real life; apparently, I do fine on the phone, so he wasn't prepared for that. It wasn't my fault, and I'm used to my brother hyping up my so-called "problems", but I do have to admit that there are times when I have more difficulty finishing my thoughts, or not saying them.

We visited our mother's grave on the last full day he was here, and I was little made at first because he was taking his sweet time doing outdoor stuff with my father and his girlfriend. Looking back, I can still say that it was a little inappropriate. But we were fine together, for the most part, and being at the grave was a bit odd. It just felt like a long time since it all happened, and I didn't have much to say, although that isn't implying that I wasn't strongly affected. My brother laid some tulips at the grave, and then placed a picture of him and his current girlfriend (who vaguely looks like our sister despite being half Hispanic); I asked him if he was going to be with her for a while, and he said "I don't know." I honestly hope that he didn't inherit any of the fickle sentimentality that our father has, but at least I can say that my brother was honest about it.

There were two horses right next to the graveyard (the graveyard is in the middle of nowhere in rural Idaho). I looked at them from a distance for a few minutes, and they then took notice of me, and came up to the fence. I walked up to them, and I was pretty sure that both were mares. The one I approached was a tall, brown horse with gentle, brown eyes; I did not detect any negative vibes from her at all, which I sort of did with the other. I then petted her nose, and she made noises that she loved the attention, and moved her face closer to me. It honestly felt that someone genuinely accepted and returned my affection, which I basically never experience. My brother was there, and he got a picture. There were times where he was laughing about it. I asked him about two weeks later why he laughed, and he said that it was because I looked so serious while I was petting her. I probably was because I just don't know what to do in such a situation. I like to think that my mother set that up, to show me that I can be loved.

My father was in the picture, of course, but he never went where we went and he didn't say a word about my mother, except for one time where I asked him permission to have something off a table that had my mother's handwriting on it. That was really odd, but expected. He could have said at least something. I really wonder if most men can truly love anyone. I know that I have problems with that, but at least I don't use women as objects or resources.

Me and my brother went to a bar on the last night, right after we went to the grave. I think that we only went to two bars. It was pretty fun, but I meant to spend a bit more on my brother and buy him more drinks than he actually drank. I felt like I owed him, which I generally don't feel at all. My brother is maybe one out of perhaps three people in my life who I'd give the shirt off of my back for. After we left, it just felt really magical, like I was in my mid/late 20s again and the year was 2011. Several years ago there was a period in my life where I'd go to bars a lot, and it was halfway fun at the time but I would never do it now. That night did bring back fond memories, though, and reminded me that I still have a little bit of youth left in me.

The rest of the month was relatively uneventful. I'm reading again now, having finished The Magic Mountain and one other book this month. The former took me two months to read, partially because it was fiction and mostly due to the bullshit that I had to put with (mostly in my head, of course). I don't regret reading it at all, and if I find a cheap used copy of it, I likely will get one for myself, but I do have to admit that a lot of the lessons that you learn from that book are not the ones that most people seem to think exist in there.

I tried to go to the bars again, for social observation reasons, but I found out that almost everyone at the bars are the same. The first time at one bar, I ran into my old neighbor who I partied with months ago, and he was nice, but he and his friend were talking about how they beat each other up for fun and they were also talking about another friend coming who liked to beat up people who he thought were gay. The next day, I was walking up the road to my father's house and there was this overweight asshole in his mid-20s yelling at me to "get the fuck off the road". I wasn't threatened by it and it didn't shock me, but I wondered just how people are turning out these days. Is it possible that people are really that violent and I've just been oblivious up until this time? I am more aware of my surroundings and of other people, after all. Then again, nothing like that happened in my neighborhood until just then, so I don't know.

I also noticed a few days ago that there are people walking around who look like they would beat the crap out of you in an instant, and I'd say that I was paranoid about that, but then I went into another bar not even a week ago and I could see the bartender and the ID checker coldly staring at me like a bunch of smug simians. I got out of there, because I know better than to give any sort of place that employs assholes like that any of my money. It was also about personal safety, but I could have at least easily have harmed the ID checker, if it came to that. I don't think I should go to bars anymore, and not just because I don't have the money; you are far more likely to run into bad people if you do. I'm not a coward, I just don't want to bother with that shit.

Not much else is to be said. I'm just more aware of stuff, I guess. I was worried for myself, for a while, but I seem better now. And I'm writing again now, which is always nice.
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The past two weeks or so have been relatively productive. I no longer have inertia, and generally get things done.

Still, I had a sadness come over me for a few days. I was reminded about my dead mother, and from that I was reminded by death in general. Those two topics plagued my mind for a while, and it was not uncommon to see things in the environment that reminded me of them. About a week ago, I saw a woman about my age (maybe slightly older) at the coffee place in the commons that vaguely looked like my mother; almost no one looks like my mother, so it couldn't have been a coincidence. In a way, it felt nice, but in another, it felt horrible, for it reminded me that my mother is gone forever, and has been for a while.

I told my therapist during my last session that my father taught me that there was no such thing as love. She said that to believe that was stupid, and that I should learn that love is real, for I still love my mother in my heart. This is true, and I am relieved, but not only does it do me little good, but I dare say that such feelings are rare. I suppose that it is natural, though, since I was a bit closer to my mother than most people are, or were. I was normally by her side when I was a lot younger, and made sure to talk to her at least every week when I was away at MTSU. I wonder if I will be that close to anyone again? I doubt it, but it is possible. I'm the sort of guy who kind of wants to be by himself, most of the time.

I've been reading Theosophy again, this time "The Other Side of Death" by C.W. Leadbeater. It is quite an interesting book and the author is a very decent writer (if not slightly loopy), but what was funny was that about two years ago I read another book of his called "The Way to Seership" and at the end of the very large book, it told you to simply meditate. It didn't even tell you how to do so. Well, in this current book, it brought up meditation in quite vivid detail, to the point where I tried it myself two days ago. Using a mantra to concentrate on my desire, I was able to have very fleeting visions, but the meditation caused me to stay up for hours. I am not sure why that happened. Nonetheless, I thought that what I did was very cool, to say the least, and also quite promising. I will definitely do it again, for I feel that I should do this in order to prepare me for a higher existence after this one.

I had an odd dream last night. It started with me in my old high school, in a room reserved for special education students, except the classroom was filled with normal kids. I don't remember what the teacher was talking about, but then I was transported to a room filled with philosophers, and I was a set of electronics. I blurted out some ignorant comment that I actually made years ago, and one person started to insult me, and another commended him on his venomous behavior. He then tried to kill me by trying to destroy my CPU, but he failed, and instead just took my speakers. I then revolved to go to the parking lot to either remove the taillights from his car or to cut his brakes. Needless to say, it then cut to another scene, where I was in my parents' old bedroom in Oak Harbor. I was seeing my finances and my mother commented on how I needed to watch my money, which I confirmed and then set out to find a plasma center (where they would give me money in exchange for my plasma), and then to hang out at a place that I hanged out earlier in my dreams about a year ago (this confirms the existence of an inner dream world, to me). But then, I couldn't leave, and I watched a risque music video with my brother and sister. It then cut to a presentation done by a surrealist artist, and I drew a picture with a pencil during the presentation, being highly motivated. I then saw an exposition of a doll blowing balloons, only for it to turn into something else, and then it went backstage, where a set of parents overdosed their daughter with cold medicine and she ended up a vegetable. Then, it was me and siblings on broomsticks, flying over a bland, brown beach, with my brother making the comment that the girl was brain dead. I told him fairly lucidly that she wasn't quite, since she could breathe on her own and that in turn implied that her medulla oblongata was functional. We then ended up landing to where our parents were, and I saw an unusual Game Gear cartridge in front of me. My father told me that I was going to work until I cried at night, and I protested, but that was the end of the dream.

Whew, what a mouthful. I think that I know what this all means. The classroom represented the notion that I was about to be taught something. The philosophy thing represents what I want to be, but have obstacles in. The music video represents what I despise in this society. The art presentation represented what I truly wanted to aspire to. The poor vegetable girl represents my worst fear. The money thing was about my current worries. The Game Gear cartridge represents the last of my material desires (there are only two things that I want to accumulate: used books and old video games). And finally, the demand from my father represents the demands made on me on how to live my life.

That dream was very interesting; perhaps one of the most important dreams I have ever had. I woke up early today, thinking about what I learned from it, and I basically came to the conclusion that this life is my life, and that I am going to live it up to my standards, and if others have a problem with that, then that is solely their own problem. I'm not selfish; I simply want to be left alone. I would be selfish if I made demands out of others, but I never do that. All in all, I think that I am living my life the best that I can.
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I actually feel great today (because I didn't have any alcohol or weed yesterday), but for the past two weeks or so, I had felt pretty down. Not depressed, per se, but I definitely had a sense of avolition. I just could not bring myself to do anything, including reading books. All I really did was drink beer and play video games, although not to a horrible extreme. I don't really know why that happened, except for maybe the fact that it was a natural consequence of using weed too much. I also had a really hard time getting out of bed in the morning, sometimes waking up as late as one in the afternoon. I don't think it was the alcohol in and of itself, although it does play a factor in my emotional lability. Truth be told, I never really experienced anything like this. But I was eventually able to do the things necessary to keep myself in order, such as clean my dishes, take care of bills, and give myself a haircut (I really needed to do that). And now, I feel pretty good about myself, although I used weed three days ago and that really set me on edge for a while.

Frankly, I think that this tells me that I should not use weed very often. Knowing that I don't like to become non-productive, this really does seem like a good idea.

I met with my father three days ago, and I was able to bring some things up that bothered me about what he was doing. He was a bit defensive, but it ended well and some things got clarified. It took me a lot of courage to do that, and I think that it was good for me to have done so. I think that it took me months to prepare for that, though.

I've been having odd, vivid dreams for a few days. One was the typical recurring dream where me and my family are driving on a highway by a large body of water, and we go off the road and into the body of water, except in this case we didn't go back on the road, but stayed in the car underwater. There was another where I was swimming in a lake similar to the one I used to go to when much younger, and it was almost all in a translucent purple/blue hue. And then just two nights ago I had a dream where this older man stabbed me in my left testicle and I felt real pain; as it turns out, I do have intermittent pain there in my waking life. Just this morning, I had two different dreams of me going into these weird, brown towers on a rocky plain, and then meeting someone I knew from high school in a community college library and getting into an argument with him (it started with me saying "I do not understand your analogy...", which is something I would say in real life). Just very weird, vivid dreams. I've talked before about how I think that there is a separate world that you go into in your dreams, or perhaps that it is the afterlife that you have when you cease to exist in the physical world, but no one can say for certain. Either way, I should study on how to increase my lucidity in my dreams.

I might write a document on dimensional thought. It sounds daunting and pretentious, but it is somewhat more simple than it sounds. I should at least try to do it.

Well, I should pick my life back up and start reading again. The weather has been unusually warm for a few days, which worried me at first but today I found it quite nice.
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I'm fine now, for the most part. The mania wore off about a week after I last posted, although it still shows up occasionally.

Christmas was uneventful. Nothing bad happened, and my brother came over. It was kind of nice, actually. Me and my brother went to a bar the night before he left (he was here on Christmas Day and the day after), and we just got mellow and started talking stuff. He broke up with his girlfriend and is going to move away from her soon, which is a good thing because while I liked her when I saw her, she is apparently disturbed and has two kids. My brother is now able to see how it was a dumb thing to get into, and how others told him that as he was doing it, but at the time he was blindsided by "love". Well, I won't get into that whole topic; I have already said my piece about it before.

I actually got a lot of stuff. I didn't ask for anything, but I still am grateful for it. I got my brother, my father and his girlfriend some Moonpies because I can't really afford anything else.

I will likely get the internet at my apartment very soon. It is about time that I do. I had a nice break from it, and now I think that I can handle myself pretty well.

When my brother told me about the break-up weeks ago, I offered for him to live with me for a while. He said that he might take up the offer, but I think that he will move somewhere else (Portland or Everett is my best bet). It will still be okay if he does, but I think that I mostly offered because I felt lonely at the time, which is a weakness. I was willing to compromise my personal security and space just to not feel alone, and while it would be worthwhile to sacrifice that for my brother, otherwise that would just make me pathetic. I now realize that I am better off alone, for I do not risk anything or compromise anything when I am. I prefer being alone, anyway; it was odd for me to be lonely like that. It does happen, but it has been a while, and it is often very fleeting. I think that most of the reason why I am alone is that I cannot relate to others, do not emotionally depend on others (well, at least the vast majority), and cannot really make any deep connection. I wish that I could, but I can't. What I have noticed is that people who are social are generally shallow people who live on the surface of life and pay attention to pop culture and whatnot; I want nothing to do with that. I don't even think that I'm better than other people; they have their flaws, and I have mine. And I am quite flawed, otherwise I wouldn't want to be alone in the first place.

I kind of realized roughly two weeks ago that all of the friends that I could ever make, I have already made, and they will get fewer and fewer. One of my friends confirmed this when I told her; she is about twenty years older than me. I don't want to get to know anyone around me or be friendly with anyone I haven't already been, unless if I am drunk. I don't quite know why, I guess that I'm just becoming more jaded, more distant, and just more content with myself. Most people seem to have flaws and problems that I don't want to deal with, not to say that I don't have any. I don't want to become a jerk, but I feel like it will be soon when I'm no longer so openly nice anymore. Part of this whole thing might be that I'm around people who are a lot younger than me, and I don't have a lot in common with those people.

I've been having messed up dreams recently that have been very vivid. Last night I dreamed of me watching an odd movie and groping younger women while I pretended to be asleep. Kind of creepy, but at least it reassures me that I'm not gay.
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I'm a little bit better now. I feel a little sick, probably from the stress and perhaps the smokes and the alcohol. I haven't drank or smoked all that much (I've seldom betrayed the "once-every-other-day" schedule), but I need to stop doing that because it isn't helping and they are probably making me sick, or at least making it more likely for me to get sick.

I was stressed out for about three weeks. Still sort of am; it was making my hair fall out. When I was on the phone with my sister, she told me that when I told her of the bad news, that she could tell that I was under so much distress. I just hate how something can totally not be your fault, and yet only you suffer the consequences. I've had to experience that a lot.

I don't feel like I'm dying, but I do think that I have to stop doing this shit. I'm sick of it.

I likely won't move. I can't afford to move anywhere and I like it here, anyways. I shouldn't make a sacrifice just because someone else is being dishonest and childish. It turns out that my brother didn't know, and he fully supports our father. Big surprise there. I probably will be more distant towards both of them; I can really only enjoy my life when I'm not reminded of this shit. Fortunately, there have been times where I don't think about it, and act like it never happened.

I'm reading and writing again. After I read a book by Simone De Beauvoir, I'm probably going to write something about existentialism, which is my favorite school of philosophy (so far).

When I talked to my therapist about what happened yesterday, she told me that my father can replace his wife, but that he can't replace my mother. Only I have the power to make that choice. She is right, but it doesn't make it any less hard.

Oh well, at least my life isn't entirely boring right now.

I just have to become more distant with them. Disowning my father wouldn't do any good, at least right now. But I'm sick and tired of pretending and being manipulated. Even if my mother was still alive and our family was normal, you don't try to be a "big, happy family" when your oldest son is nearly 32. It just doesn't work.

I guess that I am still sort of angry, but if I shut it out of my life, it won't be a major problem.

Well, here is hoping that I end up not damaged or anything.
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I could say that nothing happened over the past month, but that would be a big fucking lie. Would have been true until about a week ago, though.

I was over for dinner at my father's house last Wednesday, and he brought up in a lateral fashion that he and his girlfriend were getting married. There were a fair amount of clues, so as such I knew that it could have happened, but the way that he brought it up with his girlfriend right in front of me was emotionally manipulative. I couldn't look him in the eye or tell him that it was wrong (which it is), but I was able to expose him as a liar to his girlfriend, saying calmly that he told my brother that he wasn't going to marry her (which he denied) and that mother never wrote because she thought that he would never remarry (he replied by saying that she did, so I'll have to look into that). And I didn't even mean to expose him like that; nonetheless, it is pretty obvious that he was either lying all along, or decided to go back on his word. I have caught him lying about benign shit multiple times over the past year or two. And even if he didn't plan on lying, does that negate the fact that you can't trust someone who goes back on their word, let alone respect them? I don't think so.

Of course, I told my sister about it. It was hard to do, but I had to; it would have been wrong otherwise. She felt angry about it, but was very reasonable and controlled; she was not hysterical at all. Her main concern was that the house and the belongings might go to another family, which is very possible. I brought up the facts that our father was writing prenups, thus potentially meaning that they wouldn't, and that he told me to make a list of the things that I wanted after he died. She was pleased about the latter, but added that if he dies the prenups won't matter, especially if the house is going to be in the girlfriend's name. I don't know if there is anything we can do about it; it could be worse though, since that house wasn't the one that we grew up in. Still, it is a family resource, and it shouldn't be handed down to a stranger's family just because some divorcee from a lower background married a DOCTOR who was too weak and desperate to stand on his own.

Our conversation was perhaps the most important one I've ever had, or at least one of them.

The day after, my brother called me. He did say that he talked to our father, but didn't bring up the remarriage. I could tell, though, that he was slightly upset; I might speaking too soon, but I think that he is finally starting to see our father for who he really is. He asked me if I wanted to move to where he is so that I could be closer to family that I get along with, and I said that I was now thinking about moving (which is true). I could tell from the tone of his voice that he was worried about me. He also wants me to get a job, which I am thinking about. SSI wouldn't be enough to live on where he lives, and it isn't meant to replace a paycheck in any case. I just applied to Orange Julius yesterday (I have a friend there) so I might be lucky in getting one.

I probably will move. It is just becoming intolerable to live here. Not just my father, either; I've simply been here for too long. I need a change, to leave the past behind me. I've been here for six years, and the people around me just keep getting younger to the point where I don't fit in anymore. I feel like I'm just stagnating here. I could stagnate where I want to move to, as well, but at least I'd be doing something different for once. It is just a matter of money, I think, but that can be remedied over time. I should start getting rid of some of my stuff to prepare for the move.

It is just so bizarre, this turn of events. I can't do much right now, because I'm just dealing with all of this bullshit. And none of it is my fault, either; not a single bit of it has been brought on by myself. I'm being too civil and calm, if anything. But it is like this: I wake up, not really knowing what is going on. Then, after about half an hour, I start to realize the reality that I'm in, and after about an hour I get to the point where I'm so sad, angry and disgusted that I want to scream and vomit. My father is a disgrace to the family, and I'm not alone in thinking that. This whole thing is practically a waking nightmare, one that I never would have thought would happen when mother was still alive, because at the time I bought in to my father's lies. But in fairness, I always knew that he was very weak on some level or another...simply not as weak as this.

Oh well. Nothing I can do about it. Just have to prepare for my own life away from this whole ordeal. I'm done with it now. We never going to be one big, happy family, especially when mother is just replaced like this.
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It has been about a month since I last posted. Things have happened, but I couldn't really jot them down. I don't completely remember the early part of this month, in any case.

My father and his girlfriend are going on a sailing trip down the coast of Mexico. I think that it is really foolish, because neither one of them speaks Spanish (at least I don't think that they do), his girlfriend doesn't really know how to sail, there are tides, storms and pirates down there, and there is bacteria in the water. Not to mention that he has never gone on any kind of trip like this; the San Juan Islands are just a dot on the map in comparison to the coast of Mexico.

Some people think that they will be okay (although most don't), but my father told me a month ago that they don't care if they die on the trip. Why would his girlfriend think that? She just retired. Obviously, he has some sort of death wish. When I told my sister that part, she immediately freaked out and said that he said this kind of crap when he was going to kill himself. Before then, she was just neutral about it, which was weird because I thought that I told her, but I suppose that I left that part out. In any case, they could die, or something else could happen that is not good. I'm not hoping for it, but it is realistic.

There is also the whole thing about where is he getting all this money to go on these trips and buy a sailboat in San Diego, but I have no proof of anything, so I can't accuse him of anything bad, at least not yet.

I don't drink every day anymore. That is great, because I don't want to waste my money and I care about my health. I don't like beer anymore, anyway; I threw up last night on my old laptop and I thought that I ruined it, but I likely didn't. I just think that drinking alcohol is pretty silly and juvenile, and is a waste of time.

I also don't want to do DXM as much; I'm not going to do it today, so that is good.

I've been reading some Existentialism recently, mostly by Camus. I like him; I agree with most of what he says, even if he isn't always clear. Sartre, on the other hand, is almost pure nonsense. Reading that kind of stuff makes me feel like I'm not an idiot.

I messed around with Irfanview yesterday, and it was really cool. It inspired me to make my own GIFs and pixel art. I think that I'm going to do that with my time now, instead of drinking.

Overall, things are above-average.
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I'm not feeling too well.

I don't know if it is physically or psychologically rooted. It could be both. I just feel like I'm going haywire and that my body is just acting up. I feel like I see things sometimes, my body heats up for no good reason, my throat swells up, my eyes hurt, I have almost no desire or energy...I just have never been through anything like this before.

When my mother was in hospice, I just felt like I was running on empty. I had to keep myself from crying in my workplace. Fortunately, I did, but that was still embarrassing. The year after Mom's death, I just drank a lot and did a stupid amount of legal highs. Last year, I was only worried about my father doing something inappropriate at my mother's grave.

You'd think that it would be easier as it goes on. That was the trend. But now, it isn't so. It is like my father has completely forgotten about my mother; I brought up that it was the time of the year a few days ago to him, and he just thought that I was talking about the seasons. How dense and shallow could he be? That was his wife, and now he forgets all about her. He replaced her with someone else, and expects his children to be happy for him. Well, I'm not.

Also when I inadvertently brought up about the denial of my autonomy growing up, he added "...and you're going to blame your parents for that?", laughed, and then said that his conscience is clear because while he may have made mistakes, he did what was best. Sure, he might have, but best for whom? It was really all about him, growing up. Not to mention that admitting mistakes and saying that "I did my best" does not absolve you from the fact that you fucked your kid's life up; there is no way I can have a normal life due to what happened to me when younger...I basically have no career path, and no future. What is worse, is that he fully admits that he made mistakes, but that it doesn't affect him at all. That takes some real nerve to openly admit that; he probably is emotionally shallow, with both this and forgetting about my mother. I don't know how long I can talk to him.

And even if my father had nothing to do with it, my life is still hard now as is. I have no motivation; I still want to do things with my life, and I have minor interests, but I can barely do anything. I can't even read a book; I have the fear that depression is turning me into an idiot. I'm not quite drinking myself stupid, but I need to watch that, as well.

I feel that this is the beginning of a downward spiral. I don't know how to stop it. It is bad enough that things are the way they are with my mother dead and my father the way he is; I also need to find another place as soon as possible. Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs is ringing true for me, and it may not end up pretty. Just...Jesus. I ended up dealing with low blows, and they all synergized into one great mess.

I don't feel suicidal. Oddly, I feel less angry at myself, or anything anymore. I'm just sad. Perhaps that is a sign of maturity; anger barely changes anything. It can, but it usually doesn't.
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Christmas was somewhat uneventful. There were some minor awkward moments, but overall I had an okay time, and received more presents than I thought that I would. I didn't have presents then, but the day after I felt bad so I bought two boxes of Moon Pies for my brother and a box of chocolates each for my father and his girlfriend.

I talked to my sister the day after Christmas. She seemed well, but somewhat disturbed. We talked a lot about the past, and of family stuff. I might have drained her a little bit, but the conversation ended well.

My brother was here until yesterday. We hung out a bit and he got me new pillows; he wanted to replace the sheets on my bed, but I washed them and they ended up being salvageable. I did buy him lunch yesterday, and we also had some beer that I bought the day before yesterday.

All in all, not a particularly bad holiday season.

I finished The Dynamics of Light and Dark over two weeks ago. I'll probably start writing again in a few days, because I still have a lot to write about and I need to keep my brain active.

Overall, it has been kind of quiet. I came to a realization about a week ago, while I was trying to go to sleep but failing, that throughout my youth I was too familiar and trusting with people, and revealed too much about myself. With my high level of empathy, I was too open and I was foolish enough to at least partially believe that others were as good-natured as me. Of course, I had experience that some were not, but a lot of people were kind to me out of pity, it seems. I wonder how long that has been going on? I wasn't entirely clueless about the whole thing; my experiences with others did give me the notion that I was wrong, but I still had it in my nature to be so open with others, with that sense of aforesaid familiarity. While I have endeavored to become a lot more distant (and have somewhat succeeded), it does not come naturally, and I eventually lose my filter when I feel either anxious enough or comfortable enough. I now know what the problem is, but what is there to do about it? I can't become a total jerk, because then I'll lose my friends and whatnot, and I'll be a lot more of a miserable and unpleasant person.

I have only one more book to read til it hits the 75th mark of all the books that I have read this year. I can do it! That is an impressive number; I have all the time in the world, so I may as well use it to become more knowledgeable, rather than have my mind stagnate.

It is near the end of the year, and I've got to write the Monthly Synopsis soon. Hopefully I won't forget.
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I had Thanksgiving last week. I met my father's girlfriend, and she was okay. My brother was there as well, and we hung out a bit. He saw some empty boxes of nitrous oxide under my bed when he came over and was really pissed, but he eventually calmed down; he just said that I shouldn't do those things because it affects the rest of the family. I told him that those boxes were from weeks ago and that I'm not interested in drugs anymore (which is true, for the most part) but he didn't believe me in the beginning and had to leave for a while. He came back, though, and we drank beer and took a photo of ourselves; that was basically the first photo of me in about two years. The day after, he said that he did go a little overboard and he acknowledged that I was being pretty rational with him during the whole thing. But man, that was hard to deal with at the time.

Oddly, I was more nervous around my father than I was around his girlfriend. He just acts happy all the time; it is pretty weird. I wonder when it is going to come crashing down, if it ever does. It is just going to be strange either way.

Outside of that, my life right now is quiet, but strange. Strange in that there is no drama or anything stressing me out, and yet I seem to get huge pangs of anxiety, sometimes to the point where I am physically ill. I'm usually pretty good at figuring out why I feel a certain way, or why I'm in a bad mood, but right now I'm lost. I can't find any reason why I feel so off. Perhaps it is because I'm still processing, or rather trying to come to terms, with the events of last week? It is possible. What is also possible is that I see my future, or whatever is going to be the rest of my life, as some vast, murky void; I have no idea where I am going to be in even two years. I don't even know who I am going to be. Not a single clue can be found. I suppose that I do have a fear of the future, but it isn't so strong in that I still enjoy things and have hobbies as well as talents. As much as the future is unknown to me, I still look forward to what it may have to offer.

To be honest, though, I think that some things will get better, and other things worse. I see the young college kids today, and they are nothing like how college kids were when I was their age. I mean, we did our fair share of partying as well, but kids these days are so narcissistic, rude and entitled. I remember a year ago when some young harlot passed me by and arrogantly called me a douche, and I didn't even say a single word to her. Back when I was her age, only the nastiest whores would do that. And maybe that was what she was, but I think people like her are more common these days due to the widespread usage of social media, especially since most college kids got into it when they were barely in their teens. Not all young people are like this, though, and it is a relatively recent development; college kids weren't like that in 2010, and that was only four or five years ago. I'd say that the trend started around 2011 or so, and got progressively worse up until this point. I just wonder, when these kids are finally going to grow up and realize that they have to treat others with respect, if they ever do.

But then again, this could just be me, a somewhat older man berating a younger generation and thinking that back in his day, things were so much better. Seriously, though, if they really are this bad, I wonder how the generation after them will be? It won't be too much longer when they are going to be in their shoes.

Funny how up until I was 27 or so I honestly felt like I was in my element whenever I was at the university. Now I just feel like a fucking alien. Even if I had to go back to college (anything could happen with SSI), I wouldn't want to. But that would really be the only chance to get a decent job in order to support myself.

I honestly think that I'm becoming more disabled in that I don't always say the right words or omit words when I write, or forget things or get disorganized in my thoughts, or otherwise have an odd surge of negative emotion and have impulses to do stupid stuff, but that could all be in my head. I can still function, obviously.

In any case, I'm writing again now. The writer's block was lifted. I'm writing about the dynamics of "Light" versus "Dark" and how it pertains to human nature. It is interesting, but it will probably be very short.
promeny: (Default)
I'm back on SSI! Or at least, I got my payment for this month, however delayed it was. This is wonderful; it means that I don't have to worry about my lifeline anymore.

I had coffee with my father yesterday at the old house, and that was pleasant. I gave him a copy of my book Threads of The Mind (he asked for one) and he was pleased; he paid me for it, even though I told him that it wasn't necessary. Everyone who has read it has told me that I'm a great writer, but back to the coffee thing (I actually had tea). He noticed that I was a lot less angry and looked like I was in decent shape; we both agreed that it was likely because of the gluten-free diet that I've kept going for three months. I do feel better on that diet; less fatigued, more mentally sound, more healthy, better digestion, etc. All in all no drama was had, and it was a good talk. We talked for about forty-five minutes.

I had some Chinese food at the commons today; it made me not hungry for several hours, however it wasn't that great and it probably did have a little bit of gluten, despite trying to pick foods that didn't. I don't like Chinese food as much as I used to; it doesn't make me feel good. I was slightly out of whack emotionally after I ate it, but I managed to control myself and use reason to calm myself down. I still love Hot and Sour soup, though; I'd make my own if I knew how, which I sort of do.

All in all, I'm trying to be a little more "pure". I don't want to do drugs for a while, with the exception of nitrous oxide (because it is fun and relatively harmless, and does wonders for treating anxiety). And I don't drink very often anymore, and when I do, it is only three beers. I don't even masturbate as often as I used to, anymore. That was actually a problem for a while.

This, is to prepare myself for a ritual. I'm planning on summoning a spirit familiar; I more or less got the ritual down, but I still have to gain energy in order to do it. I think that it will work. I'm going to utilize word squares for it, as taught in The Book of Abramelin.

Things are looking up.
promeny: (Default)
So it turns out that SSI won't be giving me my monthly paycheck because I'm basically not wasting their money.

Mind you, this isn't permanent, however I really need to get it under the limit of $2000 as soon as possible.

Most people would love to have this problem. My roommate says that people would be jealous of me. But honest-to-God, I don't know how to spend it. I know that I will have to get a new laptop (this current one is half-buggy and 6.5 years old), and I know that I should take a trip to the Washington Coast to visit the old haunts like I said I was going to, but I still have no urge to spend money.

I guess that I'm one of those retarded people who has a lot of money despite having no income because they never spend it.

I do feel burdened, but I feel more frustrated more than anything. I used to be really angry, but now I'm somewhat amused that they actually gave me MORE money while I was trying to get it down to the limit and now I'm not going to get my checks for a while. That doesn't add up in any logical sense. And all of this, was the result of me actually being respectful of their money and therefore not spending it so horribly.

There have been some good things as a result. New t-shirts of anime characters, in order to be "ironic". A used PS3 and some cool games, although I've only played two of them (Dragon's Crown, by the way, is just as awesome as I thought). An emergency supply of food, and some Belgian ales. Basically, I'm living a life I wouldn't normally live, and doing things I wouldn't normally do. Many things can be said about these purchases, but at least I can say that I don't regret them.

All in all, I sort of want to work again. Being on SSI has a lot of limitations, but I need it if my chronic fatigue can't be treated and if I will be discriminated against (as I have been).

So...what else? I don't feel the anxiety anymore. That haunted me for a while. I have sharply reduced my alcohol intake, replacing it with visual meditation. I also don't eat gluten anymore, or at least I'm trying not to. As a result, I'm not as tired, and in better shape. I'm starting to get pretty good at the meditation, and have started to see minor visuals, but I still have a way to go.

I have gotten all the stuff that I cared about from my Dad's house while he's away, and I was looking through my keepsakes. As it turns out, I look and act completely different from when I was in high school/college compared to now. Granted, there was some awkward middling period where I was sort of an embryonic form of my current self back in MTSU and the following year, but I'm distinctly different from my youth and young adulthood.

And you know what? I like what I became, and I sort of resent how I used to be. I've come a long way, and even though I was mediocre at best and then warped into an infantile sperglord for roughly eight years, I got back on my feet and I became someone who I can actually like and respect. Not many people can look at how they are now, and like what they see in comparison to how they once were. The fact that I have made such progress and can look forward to better times, rather than have then behind me is solid evidence that I've made something out of myself, or at least I will sooner or later.

The funny thing, though, was that when I was growing up with my family, they basically made me a black sheep and said that I had all of these defects and problems. Well, looking back to how I was, I was really not that far from normal. I was simply an obnoxious dork who was warped by over-controlling parents; deep down inside, there was someone who was at least halfway normal. It couldn't be helped that my development was skewed, given that I had no proper role models, because my parents were complete freaks. But since my father was a doctor, and I was just a kid back then, all the focus and the blame was on me.

I don't look anything like I did in either my teens or even my early-to-mid 20s. To be honest, I like how I am both mentally and physically better.

Yeah, I turned out alright. Just need to find my place.
promeny: (Default)
It has been kind of an odd week or so.

I did DXM with Damiana last Saturday, because it was a full moon. I was able to see abstract images telling me how my future was going to be like (a brick forming and then slid into a wall, and then a white string being woven into thousands of others, being sent forward towards the night sky). I think that this tells me that I will be a part of some movement or school of thought, which is the most likely thing that will happen. Odin and Satan came to see me; Odin wanted my help, and Satan told me that he could give me power. I then sat down and asked Odin, Satan, Samael and God what they thought about me wanting knowledge, but not power. None of them seemed pleased, although they had different takes on why they didn't approve.

There were many other things that happened, such as summoning an angel and feeling energy rushing into me from an outside source, but they are recorded elsewhere (reddit).

During the earlier portion of the week, I felt anxiety coming back. I wondered if my trip has caused such emotional disturbance, but that may not be it. Sometimes I feel like crying, but I never do. I'm very foggy in my mind right now, and for the past few days I've been making more mistakes while driving, as well as not talking quite properly and writing very well.

I get the feeling that something will happen soon. I just don't know when, or what. Fortunately, my judgment and intelligence are not very impaired; it is simply how I express myself, and interact in the world.

In any case, SSI called on Monday and told me to spend the extra money that I have by November. So I bought a used PS3 with two games and some t-shirts, as well as some other things. I may get a new laptop, but I'm still thinking about that.

I had a dream two nights ago where I was in the car with my mother, and she was making mistake after mistake, and we ended up in an accident. She went to the hospital and it turned out that she had early onset Alzheimer's...it was a rapid decline and she quickly died. I was thinking to myself in the dream, "It would have been better if she died of cancer two years ago."

But that isn't the end of it. Mother was given a prescription of Memantine, which can be used recreationally as a dissociative, and when she died I lifted it. Well, the staff caught me and they thought that I was being suicidal. I got sent to the psych ward in Lewiston, and my sister was with me in a lobby, going on about how Dad is in a relationship now so soon after Mother's death and how pathetic he is. I agreed with her. As it turned out, the Rosauer's in Lewiston said that I had to work there and was on call, so I got the permission of the psych ward staff to leave during the evenings to work there and then come back, like the psych ward was a hotel.

It was a long dream, and an odd one that revealed a lot.

I wonder why I'm having issues right now? Probably too many changes, and not knowing how to deal with them. But nonetheless, this is far from being the worst part of my life. I just hope that it doesn't get worse, though.
promeny: (Default)
My brother came over, and it was more or less pleasant. I made him laugh a lot, but he was disturbed to find out that I was smoking cigarettes and that I had done Nitrous in the past. He smokes as well so he knows first-hand how horrible it is. But truth be told, I don't like the way cigarettes make me feel and I'm not addicted to them, at least not to the point where the positives override the negatives. I just get too agitated and irritable from them; something about the dopamine kick (I don't do well when my dopamine is increased drastically). So I'll probably just stick to cigars; they last much longer and they are seldom unpleasant.

Visiting the grave was uneventful. Surprisingly, Dad did come, but without his girlfriend and he didn't do or say anything inappropriate, outside of wanting me to go on a hike with him and his girlfriend afterwards. I was actually put off that he didn't seem emotionally moved at all; granted, I wasn't, but I wasn't the one who married and started a family with my mother (obviously). Perhaps he is still grieving, but I honestly sort of doubt that. He has very shallow emotions outside of anger and rage.

So it was pretty tame. I didn't cry or feel depressed this time. I reckon that by next year, I'll barely feel anything. I'm already 99% better right now, just a few days later.

Just about done with my manuscript, A Perception of Existence and Reality, although it did go on a bit longer than I thought it would. It is 77 pages double-spaced, which is the second longest document I have ever written, by far (A Soul Turned is the longest).

I also wrote a beginning chapter of an erotica fantasy fiction, and the people who have read it so far love it. I might be able to create such works and sell them; it might not be a bad idea. After all, it would mean that I have accomplished something, and am successful in some way or another.

Nothing else, really. Drinking beer again, and not getting up so late anymore. I'm going to take DXM on Saturday, which is a full moon. Last time I did DXM on a full moon, it was magical. I'm hoping that the chance repeats itself.

August 2017

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