eat me henger

i have a lot of immediate frustrations that i'd rather express here than have a direct conversation.  eventually some people stop becoming worth the effort. i could get just as much benefit from airing my grievances here than letting other people know of it, because i don't care for their improvement. it's a heavy favor to tell someone why you're upset. you let them know their blind spots and help them take the next steps to be better. but god freaking damn it, i don't want to be part of that journey anymore. i made the mistake of standing up as a mentor figure. with that comes the burden of enduring their growing pains. enduring for so long is fine until i suffer the consequences of their immaturity. i am not putting up with bullshit like that and they can go be a work in progress elsewhere. i'm tired. i can't afford to be, because i have plans. derailed plans by letting inconsiderate noobs tell me what to do. i made a mistake of being the experiment subjec...

the cost of wanting a response is the anxiety of anticipation.  i hate having to wait. having to want. i get it though. the payoff appears to be worth it. exciting. addicting. so you put yourself out there. possibly put on hold. possibly reciprocated. but while it's still up in the air, the uncertainty is unsettling. in all objectivity, it's just fabricated fear. whether it happens or it doesn't, life goes on. ambition sets a good direction, but it must be tempered with adaptability. iron eventually cools down and any further striking is simply sunk costs. you win, you lean into it and keep playing. hooks you in until the next hit. but if you lose, you need to step away. my coping mechanism has always been pretending to not care. lying to myself makes it feel easier to move on. but it's leaving without the lesson. you can't learn if you don't recognize reality. harboring the hurt is harder but it's a necessary evil. i need to be at ease with the pain. i over...

i haven't been fighting the war raging in me. for years i've been avoiding the battle. never really seeking refuge. keeping the conflict unresolved so i can continue to play victim. pitying myself was the second most rational plan of action. until i heard myself justifying my insecurities with strangers. for a while now, i've been keeping myself bandaged. perhaps as a reminder that danger could happen at any time. my wounds have long since hardened into scars, but i persisted with the phantom pain. however, when i stepped away from the proximity of the perceived precariousness, i found that people at peace have no prejudice. i just realized i was imposing an impaired identity when they said "there should be more people like you" it took a while for that to sink in. only now as i write am i really grasping the power of that statement. granted, newcomers don't fully understand my deeply rooted flaws. nevertheless, there is still good in me that i need to revalid...

gratitude for what happened. that's always a good thing to be grounded on.  as passers-by, we merely scratch the surface. relieving the itch is the best part. when you keep at it, you dig deeper. it comes with pain. when you stop, it ends in scars. scratching lightly leaves no mark but gives enough satisfaction. safe from potential harm, but also never leaving a mark. pristinely vanilla has its appeal, but not with good stories. i know a loss when i see one. it hurts. i would've wanted more. it's been a while since my spirits leapt senselessly. it's been a while since i wanted to live in the past. it's been a while since i didn't want the brain to take over. it's perhaps never over. life continues. it will always be there as an artifact i will appreciate every once in a while. but i wish i were realer.

a victim of narcissistic personality disorder is likely to unreasonably blame themselves, apologize profusely and feel impostor syndrome. saw that in a youtube video and it rang true. i don't see any academic literature that verifies that, but i really haven't done my research. it felt true and therefore i'm stuck ruminating over it. suppose it's true, it's still difficult to come to terms with it. i already hate myself as it is. the feeling is amplified by the scars of how i was once treated by a narcissist - one whom i trusted and been vulnerable. i'm unsure to what extent i was at fault and by how much am i responsible for their reaction. i can't seem to have a solid grasp of personal boundaries. i can co-opt hard-nosed beliefs of ruthless self-determination. i am responsible for my thoughts and actions, but they sure as hell can't pin it on me when they overreact or misunderstand. but that feels like too much of an over-correction. the middle ground ...

the modern world needed christianity, but at our core, we are greek gods.  nowadays paragons should be pristine. we don't want our idols involved in indecency. we go as far as to scrub them off from history. privacy is a godsend. it protects us from entirely ruining our personal narratives. but if there's anything we ought to recall from pre-abrahamic mythology, it's taking the great with the abhorrent. with the many magnificent accomplishments of olympus, there are just as many terrible crimes committed. it's disgusting to put rapists, kidnappers and murderers on a pedestal. perhaps modern sensibilities ought to kill these gods. but i think the real lesson here is infallibility permeates all existence. and a judeo-christian principle of forgiveness is a remedy to our imperfections. people can be pieces of shit. sometimes we don't think things through. sometimes we renounce respect for others. without a morality guiding us, our decisions between good and bad is as p...

i'm conflicted when this blog gets page views.  my initial thought is "my writing must've been optimized for the search engine". understandable for a small number of readers stumbling on this esoteric content. i primarily write for myself as a form of therapy, because i'm too stingy to avail the services of a licensed professional, and validate the efficacy of psychiatric medicine. so a couple of eavesdroppers violating doctor-patient confidentiality is acceptably forgivable. it gets scary when the page views get reach the thousands. anonymity ameliorates the fear. funny how the tables have turned. my actual social media accounts barely hit double-digit engagements, and i went through a pathetically unsuccessful clickbait phase to chase after clout. back then, i just wanted the attention because being relevant felt good. perhaps after the personal rebellion our hormone-addled selves go through, we get a strong desire to prove ourselves as an up-and-coming young ad...