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This has been an odd month.

I now no longer go to the university. Something happened there; it wasn't my fault and when I told everyone about it (I told them everything about it) they were shocked that it happened to me. I don't want to go into too many details because I'm trying to move on in life and it really isn't that big of a deal. I just want to forget about it and close that stagnant chapter in my life. In retrospect, I really should have never hung out there after my business was done, but people kept on telling me that it was no big deal and I really had no other place to go. Little did I know, that people rarely tell you the truth. I just got so many bad vibes from that place for roughly two years, but I didn't know what to do because everyone kept on telling me that nothing was wrong and giving me false support. I don't miss the place at all, and to be honest I'm really not that angry (I was for a little while, though), but I just feel like I wasted so much time in my life, and now I'm paying the price. I really don't know where to move on in my life, although it could be said that it was too late before I even worked there.

It is strange because it is like I now physically and psychologically resemble the person who came back from MTSU in 2010 more than how I was just months ago. That is nice, I guess, but I'm still lost. I'd say by this point that the only real differences between how I am now and how I was then are that my face is more tired-looking, I no longer take anyone at face/surface value and I'm a lot less likely to act like an idiot. Those are really the only differences I can see. In a way, I have a new lease on life, but where to I go? Where is the plan? I know that I have to work for it, but I worked during graduate school and those two measly jobs and I still didn't get anywhere. I have all of this intelligence, and yet everyone thinks that I'm trash. They are likely to say that I was trash before they rejected me, but it is really the other way around; I've simply been too many different types of people.

Just...I don't know. Everyone is angry and I'm the scapegoat. Too many weird things are happening, including cop cars blaring and speeding during the broad daylight, suspicious loud people at night, and even one time where I almost got hit by a semi. Of course, they aren't out to get me, but this stuff almost never happened. This place used to be safe; I used to be able to go out at night with no problems up until now (my previous job required that). Now, I wouldn't dare, even though I'm mostly nocturnal now. People are just acting so strangely. Most others would just say that I am crazy, but I tend to notice things and immediately accept them, whereas they do notice as well, but just brush it off. It has gotten to the point where I barely want to go out for a smoke at night anymore, even though that in and of itself wouldn't do much harm.

Other than that, I'm practicing astral projection a little bit more and I'm actually a bit calmer. Living at night makes me feel at ease and I'm a bit more focused. I also have more energy, for some odd reason. I haven't done a lot with my time yet, but I'm also getting into programming so I might be able to do a handful of things. I have the intelligence to do it, but not the discipline I think. I wouldn't say that I'm lazy; it is just that my mind goes into overdrive and I don't really do much in the real world. I'm in fucking La La Land half the time, and the other half I'm either doing light research or playing an old video game. I wish that I did have a job, but I'd probably be overwhelmed, especially concerning that I'm now used to having so much time on my hands. I don't think that I've squandered either my mind or my life, but I did start off on a path with innumerous obstacles.

I feel, though, that I will do something significant someday. I'm simply too intelligent and motivated. But nothing is for certain, and it would be fair to say that if I was capable, I would have already done it. Everyone sees me as a loser, and I feel that their opinion is accurate.
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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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It has been almost a whole month since I last posted here. I forgot to visit this place until just recently, due to a lot of stuff happening.

On the 23rd of the last month, I decided to stop taking Olanzapine. I just felt that it got in the way of my emotions and the ability to experience pleasure in my life, and I was right about that. But what I didn't know, was that going off of it induces quite a nasty withdrawal, and I had no idea about that. Of course, I am well experienced with both taking medication and going off of medication, since I've been doped up for half my life. Despite this, the past few weeks have been somewhat hellish, to say the least, although there has been a lot of good, too. And it is also important to note that this is in no way my worst instance of going off of a medication. It is really only about the 3rd worst withdrawal I've had.

So, what is it like? At first, it felt wonderful. I felt like I could actually feel things in life again, and this is in fact true. I don't have to use substances in order to enjoy myself; I haven't used drugs in weeks and I hate smoking now, because it tastes gross. I still feel like drinking beer occasionally, but that is really only to calm my nerves, and I no longer feel the need to get drunk every day anymore (I don't even drink half as much as I used to). I can feel "high" just by being myself, and doing something as simple as looking at grass makes me feel grateful to be alive. Nonetheless, a few days later the negative symptoms started to appear. Headaches occurred, I felt nauseous, I was scatterbrained, I had horrible irritability, I had weird abdominal cramps, I felt that I was going to have a heart attack, I didn't want to eat, and so on. While I didn't want to off myself and I didn't feel like I was going to die, I still felt really sick, and I wasn't really myself for a few days. In some ways, I'm still not, for I'm not really able to be around people unless if I'm going to see people I already know. I was never an extremely friendly character in my full-grown adulthood, but my asocial nature has reached a higher level. I don't want to stop being friends with the ones I'm already on good terms with, but I have no desire to be friends with anyone else. I'm still polite, though.

I don't regret doing this, and the withdrawal effects have calmed down somewhat, but I think that I really am a changed person, albeit mostly for the better. Despite wanting little to do with others, I no longer have addiction problems (right now, at least), I feel happier, I'm more socially aware, I no longer have my delusions, I don't have violent fantasies, I'm usually not angry, and I feel like I'm finally taking the steps towards becoming my true self. I am a little less focused and perhaps a bit more paranoid, but I always was.

I think that I had delusions because the Olanzapine limited my ability to think in terms of associations and depth, and as such I became more frustrated and emotionally aroused when I couldn't figure out a problem due to that limitation. From that, I came to conclusions based on insubstantial evidence, something that I otherwise would not have done. But once I stopped taking the medication, I was able to finally face my demons, and I got over them, at least for now.

I told two of my friends last week, and at first they were worried about me, but now they are fine about it. I also told my brother three days ago and my therapist yesterday, and both were surprisingly supportive. I honestly feel that I'm on the right track now.

My brother told me that due to being medicated for half my life, beginning at the age of 16, I wasn't able to really establish my true identity, and now I can. I think that he was absolutely right about that. There were so many things that I did from then until now, that were the result of my brain being messed with, and thus me being confused. It was really tragic, if you think about it.

I might write a book about how I survived the "system", sooner or later. I'm going to give it a few months, though, just to see how things turn out.

Outside of that, I've been noticing some odd things in the world, but they are interesting things that make me wonder about the nature of existence. I might write about those at a later time, though. Right now, I'm just going to take things as they are, because it would be too soon to come to any conclusions.
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My friend is back, and her mother is doing better than expected. She's still really worried for her, though. I have prayed for both of them multiple times, and I almost never do that. Hopefully they will both be okay.

My father is back, too. He got back roughly three weeks ago but didn't meet up with me until almost two weeks later. He said that he and his girlfriend were "busy" for a while. That is slightly suspicious, and even my brother mentioned that, saying that when he calls them they are always busy for some reason and unable to talk. My brother made a valid point that they are both retired, so as such they should have plenty of time, but that is obviously not quite the case. I wonder what they are doing, but I honestly just want all of that to be water under the bridge. At this stage, I really should just have little to do with it.

I've been good with not drinking so much. Only about once a week, which is fine. I also haven't done weed or DXM in a while, and I plan on delaying their usage for a bit. I kind of want to sober up and not rely on that stuff, although outside of alcohol I had no addiction problem. I still smoke lightly, but that is really just to give myself something to look forward to for the evening. I don't smoke enough to cause any lasting damage, at least for now. Although I plan on quitting that, too.

My dreams have been weird recently. I have been astral and mental projecting, as well as having vivid dreams, over a period of several days and I have no idea why, outside of not drinking alcohol anymore. Perhaps due to my cessation, I am becoming more spiritually adept? It is definitely possible. I have discovered many things about how to enter into the astral and mental realms. As it turns out, the Astral Realm is hard to enter, whereas the Mental Realm is relatively easy. I don't know why, except for the fact that the Astral Realm tends to drain my energy, whereas the Mental Realm rejuvenates me. Both realms produce vivid landscapes, however the Astral Realm is far more sharp and clear, whereas the Mental Realm is covered by a translucent fog. I don't know much about the Astral Realm, since I can only be in there for at most a minute, but I know quite a bit about the Mental Realm. You can have dreams within dreams in there, and you can see with your eyelids closed. In fact, you can enter into the Mental Realm (or the Astral Realm) through normal dreams, although I do not know how to command that at will. Entities do exist in there, but I don't encounter them too much. It is not like a lucid dream, since I have little control over either realm. I vastly prefer the Mental Realm over the Astral Realm, since it is more personal to me and I can be in there for a long while. I have the theory that the Mental Realm is the mindscape within one's subconscious, and thus is not shared, whereas the Astral Realm is shared with others.

I told this to my friend yesterday, and she asked me if I told my therapist about this. I asked her if she thought that I had a mental illness due to this, and she said "No." Odd, though, since my brother sort of accused me of manifesting psychosis due to this a while back. I don't blame either one of them, though, since having purely subjective experiences tends to be associated with having a mental illness.

I'm probably going to start writing today. I've put it off long enough. Besides, my psychiatrist wants to see what I can write, so I will share it with her when I'm done. I will almost certainly finish my writing by the time I see her again, so it shouldn't be a problem. Oh, and I'm also looking to get this one officially published this time, so in case I'm doing this for real. I've already done some research as to how it would happen, and I think that I might finally have a chance. My only worry is that if I do, I might make enough money to disqualify me from SSI, and then I won't get another book published, leaving me with nothing. But hopefully such a bad thing won't happen.
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I haven't used weed in a few days. It was making me emotionally unstable and it was also causing dissociation as well as memory problems, so as such I shouldn't do it again for a while. I don't mind being crazy at all, so long as it is controlled, but most of this crap is purely negative, so as such I need to take a break.

I'm still a little spaced out. I thought that I was getting better, but to be fair, I stayed up late last night in order to hang out with a neighbor out of politeness, so as such that might have something to do with it. I actually got up a little bit before one in the afternoon, which is pretty much unheard of for me to do. It was odd, because it felt like I had been up all day when in reality I have only been up for around eight hours.

Hanging out with my neighbor was...interesting. He's a nice guy, but when I tried to get them to listen to vaporwave, by the second song he said that he didn't like it. He said that it was "too sad". As a result, he showed me videos of punk rock; the music videos were awesome, but I couldn't listen to the lyrics (I have a problem with that) and all of the songs essentially sounded the same. I don't think that it sucks; it just isn't my thing. He told me that he likes it because it makes him happy, and it is like saying "Fuck you" to the world, which it sort of is. His friend showed me videos of Justin Bieber unironically, saying that he was awesome. I have to admit that Justin Bieber is a decent vocalist, but I don't listen to that kind of pop music. Overall, they said that my interests were strange, but they didn't dislike me. Mostly because I know how to pretend to be interested in something when in general I don't want to bother with it. But I suppose that it was good to see that side of life.

I talked to one of my friends from MTSU last week. I found out that he had a heart attack from drinking too much. That kind of shook me up. He is sober now, but he says that he has to learn how to walk again, and he pisses through a catheter. It was odd to find this all out because almost exactly a year ago, I found out that one of my other friends died in a car accident in the middle of 2014. And now this. I really hope that he will be okay; I tried calling him, but he didn't pick up and his inbox was full.

Currently I'm trying to form my own theory of consciousness. I think that I will be able to do it, at least partially. I'm reading some books to help me with my research. Most of my theory was formed from becoming self-aware of the mental changes in my mind while high on weed.

It is just so odd how people think that art imitates life, and vice versa. So many people who think that the music videos of partying and scantly clad women is real life, and as such they live it. I'm attracted to the things that don't usually happen in life, so as such I don't know what is going on when it comes to what others like/want/imitate through pop culture.

I have the feeling that some odd things are going to happen soon. Not bad things, but strange things nonetheless. Yesterday morning, there was hardly anyone on campus; that was bizarre to see. Today was fine, but I have no idea what happened. And someone pointed this out to me, too; it wasn't just a paranoid thought. I just get the feeling that 2016 is going to be a strange year.
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About a week ago, I went a little nuts. I don't know why. Obviously, I didn't go to psych ward or anything, but it did catch me way off guard. I think that it happened because I was starting to lack empathy for everyone, and the God inside of me wanted to have me humbled. It was odd, too, because I was beginning to question whether or not I really was disabled; now I know that I certainly am.

I just ramble on and my speech is a bit disjointed (my writing, not so much, but it requires a lot of concentration and focus in order to write in an intelligent manner). My creativity is higher and I feel like a genius, but I believe that this may just either be a sense of grandiosity, mania, or both. I'm seldom manic, so I don't really know how to handle it. It is kind of fun, though; despite being under psychic stress, life seems magical again. My life hasn't felt magical since 2013, so this was welcome; I figured that my life forever lacked the luster and the intrigue that made it worth living, but apparently not. I've been a little paranoid and have thought about ways to hide from others off the grid, and there are times where I think of myself as a part of a government think tank (which would probably be my dream job), but for the most part I know what I am.

It is hard to get my bearings right now, though.

I was talking to my friend today, and we were discussing how most people lack empathy, and can't put themselves into other people's shoes. I told her that I could, but she said that I'm not like most people. I think that this is the reason why I have so many problems; I'm around others who simply aren't as emotionally developed as me, I think. Even the intelligent ones, seem not to put too much thought into the inner dynamics of the mind, and the situations of others. I do feel that I'm a bit smarter than others, but that is because I had to work for it, not because I was born that way. Growing up, I was made to feel like I was an idiot, and I was seen and claimed to be an idiot, not just by my classmates (and some teachers), but also my family. There was a period of roughly four or five years where I was the "family embarrassment". It took me the better part of a decade to become as wise and relatively decent as I am now.

The thing is, though, is that I don't want to think that I'm so much smarter than everyone else. Partially, because I have flaws of my own, but mostly because I really do try to see the good points of someone's mind. But the simple fact of the matter is that people just don't want to use their minds and become more educated and wise; they just want to settle for simple mental heuristics and labels, because it is far less mentally taxing. I just don't understand why even the professionals are so cognitively lazy, when they are the ones who should be putting their minds to the grind.

I can use it to my advantage, though. I'm starting to finally see how people tick, and I can gain from such valuable insight. I have a business plan of sorts that utilizes simple online advertisements that have a simple message but are so politically and emotionally charged that people who don't like to think very deeply would click on it; it would take them to another site with ads, thus generating a profit that would gradually accumulate. I have to learn more about how it works in order for it to work, though, but knowing how I could potentially get rich off of other people's simplicity (or to bluntly put it, stupidity), it is pretty morbidly entertaining for me. I don't really want to focus on money, though; this is more of a game to me than anything else.

Well, I suppose that I should try to get better, if that is what is best.
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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 a while again.

Apparently someone disappeared at my apartment complex. He was an older guy who had to use a cane, and I hardly saw him without some malt liquor. Most disappearances of that sort are usually suicides, but the odd thing was that he didn't kill himself inside his apartment. I saw the inside as they were cleaning it out, and it was filled with several (and I mean a FUCKLOAD) tallboys of malt liquor.

It made me reflect. I thought to myself, "Is this where I am headed? Do I want to end up like that? I don't think that I will, but I might." So as such, I have to be careful about how I treat myself and how I live my life, else I end up like him, or something similar.

I talked to the guy who lives right next to where that guy lived, and he turned out to be a nice guy; I thought that I wouldn't like him, but I'm usually wrong about that. He says that the cleaners asked him what happened, so as such no one has any idea what happened. Today the cleaning lady (who I think was my former neighbor at the place where I used to live) claimed that he stole her pink purse, and he called the cops on the matter to get it all resolved. Isn't that pleasant (and downright surreal, for that matter)?

Still am not drinking every day. I've been doing that for a while, so as such this is something significant. I don't think I've done anything like this, to be honest. Complete dry stretches, yes, but not moderated drinking. My bank account is doing better, as is my health. I still might drink today, though.

All in all, that is all. Just reading books and taking care of necessary stuff.
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I move exactly a week from now.

I've been okay at not spending too much money, and I have done better than realistically expected, but I'm going to have to be careful with my money from now on. Should have been a bit earlier, and I sort of was, but I was somewhat dependent on alcohol, and that stuff is too expensive. If I stop drinking alcohol altogether, I will actually be more able to save money. I need to do that. It isn't impossible because I'm already drinking less and I have the motivation to quit; not only that, I'm not an alcoholic, although I sort of approached that at times. I also quit smoking again, and I don't plan on ever picking that back up. I need to stop things short before they turn into real problems again.

Other than that, just preparing for the move. I'm optimistic, but I know that I'm going to have to make some changes and some sacrifices in order for this to work out well, and I think I can do it. It will be great because not only will I be on my own, but it will give me an opportunity to change my life a bit. There are a lot of things that I have wanted to do, but haven't, simply because I live with someone else. Mostly just stuff that would require a lot of focus, like painting in the living room. I actually did make a painting about two years ago; I'm not good at it, but I want to do it again. There are many things I would like to do, that I am not necessarily good at (drawing, painting, making mashups, etc.).

I have had some success with my special power recently; I was able to enter into the mental realm in two consecutive days. The first day was just a vista of a industrial district of a city, and the second day was a vivid movie clip and a summoning attempt. For some odd reason, my ability to see in the mental realm "fogs up" at times. I have no idea why; perhaps it is the sign that I don't have enough energy for the sight to remain stable, or that I still need to advance my ability? Who can say? All I know is that I've never heard of anyone ever being able to do anything like this, and I've been many places and have listened to many people. I must have a special and rare, albeit currently very weak power. I'd love to do more with it, and to see if there are others with the same ability.
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Two odd things happened.

One, the people downstairs had their apartment broken into and ransacked. The guy who did it broke the window of the room right below mine and then just fucked everything up. I slept right through it; I vaguely heard loud noises but I shrugged them off, because I'm used to those guys being loud. Apparently, the place was fucked, and almost everything was taken. Some people think that the guy who did it was one of the people who used to live there. I figured that it was a personal matter, because they are known to piss others off and my car, that was right next to the window, wasn't even touched. You'd think that the criminal would be smart enough to at least break a car window, in order to make it look more random. But no, nothing was stolen from my car; not even the spare change (that actually happened about a year ago).

The people downstairs are gone now. I take it that they are scared. Well, I guess no rednecks are going to be living down there anytime soon.

The second thing caught me almost as much off-guard. My roommate told me that he didn't want to sign the lease, so we both agreed to drop it. A few days later, when I asked him to sign the drop form, he said that his friend and his girlfriend from California are going to move in here together, and that they don't like sharing a room. Essentially, he is going to stay and I am going to have to move out. That is bullshit, and he even incidentally said that he was talking to his friend about this for about a month, so obviously this was premeditated. I wasn't angry; just depressed and disappointed. I figured out that the two of us didn't quite get along anymore, but not to this extent. As a result, I've stopped reading for a while and I'm not cooking as much, although I'm still writing something right now.

I'm just so fucking stressed and paranoid. I mean, the roommate wasn't my friend, but I thought him to be better than that. You can live with someone for years and not really know them at all, I guess. I'm going to find a single bedroom apartment or a studio apartment just so that I don't even have to deal with this possibility again. I've stopped drinking beer in order to save up some money for the move. I'll probably only scrounge up roughly $200 from that, but that is better than nothing.

So yeah, I don't trust people anymore and I don't want to be friends with anyone. Although I am looking forward to moving; it would be cool to have my own apartment, all to myself. More privacy, and no one fucking bothers you. I was thinking only about a week or so ago that I do love this place, but that I could in theory live here for the rest of my life, and that fucking scared me. I don't like change, but the thought of things never changing is something I don't like even more. I don't want to live in an artificial la-la-land; I need to grow up every once in a while.

I just need to move on. But this was all because my roommate couldn't deal with his own problems, so he focused on mine. A familiar theme, both inside and outside of my private life.
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Life is somewhat quiet again.

I've successfully stopped drinking so much; over the past week I went from drinking four beers a day to three, and now only two. I like beer but it is kind of expensive and I want to do other things with my time. Don't get me wrong, I still like getting drunk every once in a while, but I honestly think that I should move on from it.

I've been getting up really early for some reason, sometimes as early as 3:00 AM. This would be perfect for me to practice astral projection, but for some reason I can rarely force myself to go back to sleep; I am just too alert. Half the time I just stay in bed until around 7:00 AM, but the other half I get up a bit earlier and then leave for the university. I do get a little tired when the day is half over, but I seem to have a bit more energy these days. Just a few days ago I cleaned parts of my room and decided to get rid of some books that I'm never going to use. I should get rid of other stuff, because there is a possibility that I could end up homeless, and then where would all of my stuff go? It is better to prepare for the worst, even if it never happens.

When I usually wake up early in the morning, I get these odd thoughts that I'd usually never have. They have revealed a bit to me, and just recently I've kind of figured out just how wrong it was for my father to have done what he did. I mean, get rid of virtually all reminders of my mother from the house, have some woman I barely know move in with him after only being in a relationship with him for four months (she's trying to sell her house, too) and having the whole house rearranged, with him acting all fake and superficially happy, while trying to go back to his old tricks of controlling me? It is offensive, and it spits in the face of my dead mother. She loved him so much and made so many excuses for him, and now look what he does. My mother never wrote a will because she believed that my father would never be with another woman (I'm 90% sure that he promised that), and he practically betrayed her. She also wrote several letters for him on her deathbed for him to open after she died, and none for either me or my siblings. It all spits in my face, too. I'm just pretty angry, now.

My brain feels better now. I can write a bit better, and I don't have as much anxiety. I'm starting to write again, on how people think about the meaning of life. It probably won't be perfect, but I enjoy writing it so far, and I feel that it might be worthwhile. I'm also going to write another thing, sort of a fantasy/erotica novel with a tongue-in-cheek bent; don't know when yet, though.

I wanted to do DXM again so badly, but I stopped myself two days ago. I got a warning or two from my I Ching readings that it would have blindsided me and set me back, so as such I have decided to not do it until after I write the first book, if I do at all for a while. I mean, I know that I will do DXM again; it is just too much fun and highly intriguing. However, there is still a slight chance of it fucking with my brain, and I should keep the usage of it to a minimum, for I'm in my thirties now.

Hopefully things will be quiet for a little while longer, until I want things to get loud again.
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It has been a really odd month so far.

I recently found out that one of my friends from MTSU died in a car accident last May. I can't believe that I didn't know that one of my friends had been dead for over seven months. We were pretty good friends during my last year at MTSU, but after I left we barely talked to one another so as such it wasn't as painful as it could have been. I guess that it just goes to show how far removed I am from that phase of my life; I really have changed a fair amount. He is roughly the ninth or tenth person who has died on me in my life, which is actually a fairly large number for someone who is only 31 years old; most of the departed were young people like him, too (he was only 26 when he died). I am no stranger to death; I was introduced to it on a significant level when my best friend died from auto-erotic asphyxiation when we were both 17. That was really shocking because I didn't know that people did that to themselves, and my friend was very straight-laced.

An odd thing about my dead friend was that when I was talking to him through Facebook four years ago, I told him that I wanted to move and yet I didn't want to abandon my mother, who had cancer and was going to die a year and a half later (I had no idea that my mother was soon to be dead, though; I just thought that I shouldn't leave her just in case she was going to die). He said something around the lines of "Dude, just leave and have your own life." He was right, but I really couldn't have left my mother like that. I just find it sort of ironic that he is also now dead, and I had no idea that anything like that would happen to him. To be fair, though, he had a vibrant personality that while it made him a very pleasant person to be around, it didn't really fit his age. He basically acted like he was 20 or so by the time he was 26 (not that he did stupid things; he was just very jovial and didn't take many things seriously), and there was always a part of me that wondered just how he would be when he was about my age; looking back on it, I honestly couldn't have seen him seriously being my age, not that I thought that he was going to die, though. He was my brother's age, which makes it pretty odd, to say the least.

I was on that one medication for two days in order to decrease my drinking, and it was strange. The first day, I felt all calm and almost euphoric, and I was kind of mildly dissociated, having the strange thought that we are just put on this earth with no purpose or plan, and no roles to act out, and no restrictions to our behaviors, and yet all of us seem to instinctively feel that all of these things exist in our lives, and that we are here for a specific reason, when we are not. On the second day, however, I felt like I was going to have a heart attack right after I took the dose, so I had to go into the ER. They did a check-up on me and also did an EKG, and I turned out to be fine. As it turned out, the medication gave me an anxiety attack that triggered some psychosomatic symptoms, and I freaked out over it. I don't feel ashamed because it was the first time anything like that happened to me, and I hadn't been to the ER in well over a year in any case. The physician acted surprised that I was on the medication in the first place due to me telling him how much I was drinking, and he said that I seemed to be very motivated to stop drinking and that I should try doing it without any medication. According to him, I don't seem to have a significant alcohol problem.

For days after I stopped taking the medication, my head hurt, I felt dehydrated and I was all-around miserable and prone to anxiety. My hair also seemed to fall out from it. I just felt like the medication had too many negative side effects, and that it was overkill. I didn't drink enough beer to seriously warrant a medication to curb the usage and the medication made me feel way worse than any hangover I ever had, with the exception of one during MTSU.

This is really the first time my psychiatrist has ever made a serious mistake. She must be really conservative with substance use, and probably believes that I have more problems with alcohol than I actually do. I ask people around me if I have problems with alcohol, and they say no and fully admit to drinking more alcohol than me. One of my friends privately felt that I should have never been on the medication, I later found out from him. It was just plain reckless that my psychiatrist would put me on such a serious medication for such a minor problem (if it is even a problem at all), although to be fair she didn't push it on me and it was my idea to try it out. She really can't be fully blamed.

There is one good thing that came from it, though: I quit smoking. It has been three days and I've only had the slightest cravings; it has been way easier than I thought it would be. I decided to quit because it was too expensive, it wasn't good for me, and it made my anxiety worse, so as such I did what I did. I don't regret it at all; if I control my drinking, I will now have a lot more money to save up for important shit or emergencies, for you never know what is going to happen in your life.

Not too much else is going on. Playing Final Fantasy XII for the first time in eight years, and that has proven to be pretty fun. Also trying to read a bit so that I will have enough knowledge and opinions to write one of my papers, although I wonder what the point of writing them exactly is nowadays.
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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.
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I finished Liber Vagus today. It is around 22,000 words. I really like the fact that I have written four books this year, at over 110,000 words in total. It just goes to show that I'm not being a parasite; I'm actually contributing things to the world.

I put it up on my academia.edu account, and many people have looked at it already. Many more will, too. I'm actually rather high up there in how many visits I get, so I guess that is an accomplishment.

Liber Vagus was not meant to be a comprehensive text, at least outside of my own personal knowledge. It will help those who are on the path to achieve success with the occult sciences, but it likely will be of little value to those who already have, or think that they have. There aren't many of those, though. I'd say that those who are seriously into the occult sciences and have made original progress are only about one in 50,000 (if that).

But yeah. That was a real accomplishment. And it only took me 13 days to compose, too. It is funny how it all happened simply because I had a dream that stated that I was going to die right after my 31st birthday, which is only five or so weeks away. Well, hopefully that doesn't happen.
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I still am not back on SSI. I went to the lawyer today and he was just as surprised as I was. He did say that he will keep on reminding them, and if he has to, he'll get a member of congress to contact the department in order to speed things up. That was great; I think I will get back on it, it is just a matter of time.

I finished The Threads of The Mind about two weeks ago, and the books of it arrived today. I gave my roommate an autographed copy and he was very pleased. I have five more books to hand out, four to my friends and one to the university library, if they will take it. It would be really cool if they accepted it. In any case I feel great about writing a third book; it makes me feel like I am capable of doing something. At least I'm not just sitting on my ass and playing video games. Writing helps me do something constructive while taking my mind off of my problems.

I am currently writing my fourth book, a grimoire of sorts called Liber Vagus. I'm writing it because I want to get my occult knowledge recorded and distributed in case if I really do die shortly after I turn 31. I've been thinking about that a lot, to be honest. I mean, I probably won't die, but if I do, what will happen next? I know that there probably is an afterlife, but it is a huge mystery to me. Perhaps I won't die, but will be changed in some profound way. I just don't know. I don't want to think about how my possible death would affect my friends and family; I mean, my family just lost my mother a little over two years ago. But if I do die, at least I had done stuff with my life, and lived a full one. I've practically lived three lifetimes in the past ten years.

In any case, nothing else is really happening. Just waiting to have money come in again.
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They are both back, as are the students.

Summer ended pretty quickly. It is sort of odd how my days are slow, and yet the weeks and months just glide by. I learned a lot of things over the past week. How I really do need close friends, but that I only need a handful and that friends would be hard to get without school or work. And the kids that came back. Just wow, they look so fucking young. Most guys my age would find the girls extremely alluring; not in my case, though. I mean, their attractiveness does register but I really prefer women who are in their mid-20s to mid-30s, or thereabouts. If they are still pretty then, they likely will be for the rest of their lives and they tend to be more refined mentally.

But still, just how fucking young they are. Some of them were born in 1996! That is insane. I totally feel out of my element in both Moscow and at the university. I used to feel right in my element in the libraries and the other areas of the campus, but these days I feel too old for it. I feel the need to move on, but where? I have no friends, and perhaps no opportunities, anywhere else.

I look somewhat older, and feel a lot older. That is a sign of maturity, I guess. Since I have no job, no promising career outside of what I can make for myself, there is a blank in my future. That is both scary, and kind of cool. Scary in that nothing is certain, but cool in that I have nothing binding me; no mortgage, no marriage, no kids, nothing. I can do just about whatever the hell I want.

And I highly doubt that will ever change.

In any case, the meditation is going great. I'm not drinking too much anymore, although I did start smoking cigarettes again. I don't mind them if they are mild, but I know better than to be a regular smoker, even lightly. It seems that the meditation affects my sleep, and I'm able to have hypnagogic dreams and visions. It is really, really cool. My visions have also become more clear, seeing more definite shapes, greater applied imagery, and some of them seem to be of a revelatory nature. I feel that I'm sharpening my mind towards greater things, if this is indeed the case.

Outside of that, nothing significant is happening. I'm not bored, but I'm wondering how the next few months will be, given that I will not be auditing a class this semester.
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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.
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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.
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I'm doing relatively well. Staying away from drugs, outside of some Damiana that I have tried out. That is an interesting herb; it seems mildly psychedelic but it doesn't really fuck with me that much. The point of using it is partially to distract myself from the harder substances, but mostly to expand my horizons. I want to experience nearly every state of consciousness possible, so long as it doesn't permanently fuck with me, at least on a negative level.

I've been writing again. I think that it is really good for me, and gives me the sense that I'm actually doing something with my time. The document is already about three times longer than my Master's thesis, which is impressive in and of itself. Not many people have the dedication to write something like that for nothing, or at least without the expectation of anything. I hope that others will like it; I plan on writing a lot more soon afterward.

In any case I've been playing Yume Nikki for roughly the fourth time; I play that game once every two years on the same day. I don't remember much of it, but it is still fun. It is different, though, for I'm a much different person at 30 than I was at 24, so as such I can't really relate to my first experience all that much. But that shouldn't get in the way of anything.

I'm helping my sister with sending the rest of her stuff in the basement to her. I already got it out, so now I just have to send it. She is very grateful, but I hope that my father won't get pissed at me. But if he does, I don't mind. I did what was right.

Several years ago, when I was 23, I had this silly crush on a younger girl online; I would talk with her through AIM, and while it was never romantic or sexual, I think she figured out that I liked her more than a friend. Well, I stopped talking to her a little after I turned 24 (it was uneventful) and I moved on with my life. In early 2010, however, I discovered her tumblr, and I've been following it ever since. It has been interesting; she's still a huge, immature idiot, but in a much different way. She's basically a lukewarm manifestation of a self-righteous tumblr girl who doesn't know when to stop screaming, drinking and do drugs. Oh, and she's asexual, agender and panromantic, too! What a combination. She's pretty much never said anything of worth, although it was humorous to find out that she got kicked out of her parents' house because they were sick and tired of her degeneracy.

I haven't gotten to the good part, though. This girl used to be phenomenally beautiful; a 10 out of 10. Even other people in my life were surprised at how attractive she was. When I first saw a picture of her way back when, I "fell in love" (I don't do that anymore). Well, she just recently posted a set of photos that was entitled "Female to Agender in 6 Years" or whatever; it started with a picture of her at her prom, or whatever, being perfectly elegant. Then, the pictures from college started to appear; she wasn't ugly, but she was no longer beautiful and gained a little weight. The last two pictures showed her with male clothing and a very short, unfeminine haircut, and the last picture just made her look hideous.

Isn't that sad? What possessed her to end up that way? I mean, almost everyone changes at college, but not like that, at least not when I went. I guess that it just shows that the initial beauty was wasted by the stupidity of the host, who was so much of a fool as to not care about it and let herself go with all these bad decisions.

I showed those pictures to my friend today. She was like "It is sad to see her let herself go like that!" as well as "Is she gay?" My friend thinks that she isn't making the right choices for herself and is confused as to who she is.

The weird thing, though, is that this is both highly comedic and tragic in an ironic fashion. For now this girl is the same age I was when I first knew her, and she just turned not only into something I could never love, but also messed up her life than I ever realistically could by just 23. Just imagine when she turns my age how she is going to end up, or even at 26! I get the feeling that she's going to kill herself or otherwise die before she hits 40. My friend didn't get why I thought it was so ironic, but when I told her the explanation she kind of laughed.

I've met my fair amount of derp-a-derp girls online (especially back when I was in the autism communities way back when), but not even close to this. The rest of the girls at least had a slight amount of sensibility; this particular one had no limits whatsoever.

Man. I'm so glad I didn't end up like that. I might be 30 and alone, but at least I don't have any shame that I should have.
promeny: (Default)
I had two weird dreams last night. One of them was when I was in a college class filled with a bunch of obnoxious and dumb autistic kids in their teens and early 20s; I was the only schizotypal person there, and I sort of had a distant disgust for everyone there. They didn't have much of an opinion of me, for some reason; probably because I just observed them and kept my mouth shut. One girl had brightly colored hair and tattoos of pistols on her cheeks; when another autistic kid asked her why she had them, she said that it was to scare off anyone who she'd initially be scared by, because it made her look like a gangster and stuff. Obviously, she wasn't very bright.

The other dream, I was in my old room back at my family's house (well, the last house we lived together as a family), and somehow I summoned my mother from the spirit world. She was pleased to see me, and I was pleased to see her, but it wasn't over-whelming. We talked a bit about a few things, mostly how we were both unsatisfied how there was no funeral or memorial service due to my father dominating the whole thing and wanted everything to be his way. I promised her that I would give her a decent funeral and burial (kind of hard to do, because she's now just a pile of scattered ashes). I later brought up what dad was doing and how I didn't approve of it, and to my huge surprise she reacted as though she had no idea what he was doing. I tried to tell her everything that was going on, but I was filled with so much disgust that I couldn't finish what I was about to say. She didn't seem pleased. We ended our conversation with my belief that I wasn't going to die anytime soon, but then my mother corrected me and said that I was going to die shortly after I turned 31. She didn't even seem upset about that.

Overall, that was a little creepy, but I'm not afraid of death and I've lived a lot of my life already, so it wouldn't be the biggest tragedy in the world.

***

Part of the reason why I might have had these dreams was because I did nitrous oxide last evening. That was an odd experience; it is sort of addicting, but not enough to develop a constant habit. The first feeling that I felt was a calm sensation, where I had absolutely no anxiety. Then came the dissociation, which was very weak at first but when I learned how to inhale properly I was more dissociated than I had ever been since I last successfully did DXM. I didn't get the auditory echoes and distortions until I had perfected the art, and it required me to hold a lungful in for quite a few seconds. It does provide a radiating sense of euphoria, but that only lasts for about ten to twenty seconds and it isn't what I am really after. When I did two canisters, it reminded me back when I was a little kid swimming in a pool, finally drawing a breath after getting water in my lungs for a while. Very odd; if this is what my friend who died from auto-erotic asphyxiation craved, well, I can understand the buzz but it wouldn't be something I would do.

I didn't get much visuals, which was disappointing. People talk about visuals on nitrous a lot. I actually did get one, where I closed my eyes and the phosphenes emerged more than they usually did, and formed a clear outline of the laptop right in front of me. Never had that happen before, even on DXM (although DXM provides way better visuals). But about an hour after I did the first few canisters, I saw some mild flickers and distortions in the shadows of the dark living room of the apartment.

Overall, it seems that nitrous affects me more psychologically than emotionally or anything else. I will definitely do it again, but it won't be a daily thing at all. It doesn't seem to cause brain damage; sort of the opposite, in some ways.

April 2017

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