eat me henger

i'm terribly indecisive. i always fall trap into analysis paralysis. i love learning, i love researching things, i love getting as much information to aid in decision-making. but i hate choosing. nothing is truly clear cut as good or bad choice. that's another thing the schooling system failed us. we had thought for years that there's always one correct choice. but in my experience of overthinking through life, decisions are always taking the bad with the good. ideally, i don't want to bring any negativity. contrary to my dramatic and dark writing, i sincerely want a good life for myself. so much so that i want perfection. i adopted an approach where if i do well at the beginning, if something felt natural, then i'll pursue the path. that prevented me from learning how to persevere. stumbling from the start was a sign to not spend any further effort. it afforded me to focus on my interests and natural inclination, but that only created a sheltered worldview unable t...

the challenge for passionate writers nowadays is to not sound like artificial intelligence.  perhaps for most people that don't find joy in writing, chatgpt gets the job done. anyone going through the motions needing to fill a blank page with paragraphs could easily plug in a simple instruction to write a report, summarize something, elaborate anything. done with the day, everyone else can move on with what they truly want, or at least be the best of a bad situation. so when i see reports that reek of generative artificial intelligence, i'm disgusted, but i try to empathize that they just wanted the task off their to-do list. for better or worse, i'm not like them. i like the process of actually being on the edge of a typing cursor pushing my personal processing power to come up with the next word that make logical sense in the sentence, in the paragraph, and whatever grander thought i'm trying to capture. and i say "capture" because knowledge feels like magic...

in a fateful turn of events, my career shifted for the better.  i'm now working on the things i like, i'm actually working now, spending most of my day doing actual work. but not the same kind of work i used to do. before these large language models became a thing, i used to write everything from scratch. new word document every single time. it was tedious, but fun in a rouge-like kind of way. always challenging myself to create fresh. the challenge made my objective productivity comparatively less than what i'm able to do with the paid version of chatgpt. i'd like to think of paying for chatgpt as giving myself a pay cut to make my life easier. i essentially have an assistant that can suffer the tedium for me at such a rapid rate that most people can't deliver. what it then demands from me is that i need to have a pool of internal intel for it to process. without such essential ingredient, it's terribly generic, the intelligence is indeed artificial. i also nee...

my career has gone to shit in the past year or so. the system has not been conducive to maximize my talents. the my colleagues and superiors haven't been a pleasure to work with. the actual office space suffocates the hell out of my autism.  this point in my career is abhorrently demotivating. and i'm supposed to be blamed. no, not mismanagement. not the lack of discernment from those who actually understand my abilities, and still choose to not put me in the right place. to be fair, i haven't been playing along. the pre-existing dogma has been utterly ridiculous. i deliberately delay accomplishing tasks and ignoring instructions which i find to be an insult to my intelligence. most people will not understand why i choose not to perform with simple tasks. even an underpaid underling can do them. but see, that's the thing. it's below my pay grade, just as much as there are tasks that are above my pay grade. it's all about having a decently accurate assessment of ...

"how can we help you?"  simple, but good question. i was stumped. it occurred to me that i have no answer. i've been complaining about depression for far too long without thinking of a way to get out. it's just managing the wave of lack of motivation. so, i say. there's no cause, it's genetic. simply just born this way. be it as it may, what if there's a reason why it remains? no real effort to seek medical attention. absence of social fabric to catch my fall into darkness. there isn't perhaps one answer to fix everything. it seems like a complicated problem that ought to have multiple points of attack. maybe medication, maybe social support, maybe lifestyle changes. that's the thing, i have all these ideas, but i'm not piecing them together definitively for a solution. it's as if i don't want to be fixed. if i can't answer the question now, how could they answer "why did he die?"

nobody is convinced i'm going through difficulties. maybe it's the lack or scientific evidence. maybe it's the lack of other peoples' cognitive bandwidth to entertain my relatively minor issues. whichever the reason, it doesn't make this journey alone any easier. perhaps i do an excellent job pretending, or i'm just that psychosocially retarded that i can't sufficiently convey whatever it is i have. even i don't know how to classify it anymore. it has gotten so complicated that it's become a generic mental issue. brain getting duller, diminished sensitivity to emotions, aversion to novelty. even if it was properly identified, i'm still going through this alone. i never had proper emotional support. i don't blame the people around me, my issues are complex and my worth is negligible. i have to pay someone to give me that. human relationships are primarily designed to keep each other alive. that much is being satisfied. i don't have to worr...