so, this will mark the 3rd or 4th real attempt since late 2018-ish to summarize the things i've lived. last time might have been august-september last year. back then it was unfortunately perpendicular to a specific (bad) interpersonal event that already introduced new changes to my outlook, rendering most of it obsolete. it's hard to be absolute when you are learning rapidly always. i am still learning, especially right now of all times compared to since then. i guess having to learn itself, and the failure to learn, is what drives me to talk about my life in such fine detail to people who have interfaced with me who have not done so at such a personal level, but touched my soul with art, or life as art itself. for whatever it means to exist as a person to another. this is my life, my struggle to forget anything, and the plausibility that it can (continue to) add up to something, so far.

i'm just kind of here in '97. i'm a c-sectioned nicotine accident trailer infant in shreveport louisiana. don't really remember anything up until like 2001-2002 where i then lived in gwinnett county, georgia. i can't really talk about the surrounding area entirely because i never really went out except for getting food, going grocery shopping, or going to see my cousins. i didn't really live on a curriculum at homeschool past about grade 5 but i think we kind of flew through things so by about age 6-7 onward i was left to my own devices. i have two older brothers who were kind of just getting started living life as late teens early adults, when i was growing up and my dad did six figure retail management so most of the time spent was between me and my mom.

almost everything begins at toys i guess, i had a huge bucket full of random assorted legos, lot of d&d; dice, and stick/ball magnets. i would eat toothpaste and chew open glowsticks. and i was preferential to food coloring cereal. toys eventually convolved into the idea of pretending to be in videogames through acting like i'm in a first person shooter, writing on pieces of paper for menus and dialogue, using my environment and my house as setting for platformer games with figures. i had an n64 and a gamecube which were cool. i was very drawn to games that let you have bots to simulate the times my siblings weren't there to play them with me, or things that had level editors, both of them because they are supplemental in developing externalization of imagination. i was averse to games that involved caring like nintendogs or sonic adventure 2 chao garden. the idea of having to maintain and care for something that mimiced comfort left me uneasy, not to mention how a lot of cartoons shaped my early romantic idealism using varying degrees of love subplot. everything exists at an ideas level for as long as you've never really been exposed to other kids growing up that weren't your slightly older cousins.

around age 7-8 i fell out of an inflatable pool current and hit my head. i felt very strange and weird in my noggin but as a naive kid i of course just simply rode it out. i eventually developed partial, and then grand mal, seizures. you decide to go to sleep peacefully one night and first thing you're awake next morning, there's medical and fire department in your room and you are getting your blood drawn. completely unaware of the fact that shortly before, your mother witnessed you foaming from the mouth with your eyes rolled into your head making the most wretched noise possible. i went to the hospital and they did their tests and said i was fine. within 30 minutes to an hour of being home things begin again. i am prescribed an anticonvulsant (that doubled as a bipolar med for some reason), of which i stopped taking at around age 11-12. epilepsy never really interfered with the childlike process for me even if it could be startling. for what felt like the next 2 years i would just be going about my business and i would start shaking violently from my toes up to the rest of my body until i was down under indefinitely, only to resume things as normal immediately after coming back.

the way i see this is, prior to my internet level social exposure, there are 3 intangible desiring-enjoyment mechanisms that had been ingrained in me throughout my youthful solitude; video-gaming multidimensional entertainment/pretending, ideation of comfort through love narrative and character-based signifiers, and my own psychodissociative episodes, for i must enjoy them as what they are to me in the interim until i resurface. these are the earliest constructions of the world as i knew without considering the scope of virtual living, symbiosis itself, or countless introverted drug experiences to parallel, that would come later on

my real understanding of music developed from 07-09. before this my parents would listen exclusively to pop-country in the car or around the house. for as early as i can remember it was always repulsing me. a lot of gripe-ing, plugging my ears and complaining. everything i (recognized that i) liked came to me through guitar hero and rock band and then downloading things off of limewire. i got duckrolled and saw various other obvious things. i think the earliest cd's i owned that were important to me were ten thousand fists by disturbed, a black sabbath best of, and city of evil by avenged sevenfold. sooner or later my older brother left me with his backup cd rewriteables which had some very formative stuff to my taste to this day. but most specifically at that point i was crying to music for the first time listening to lateralus by tool.

online coexistence, the beginning of other people's interactability and likeness came to me through xbox live & newgrounds, zdaemon, virtual magic kingdom, and roblox in roughly that order. i still have some roblox-level contacts to this day. i used to have top25 most posts on the forum and off-topic was my favorite board. i went to a fan-forum which was ran by one of the interns at the time and you could say cuss words there. the slogan literally said something like "where people are mature and swearing has nothing to do with it". i wound up moderating it from 2010-2011. i met my ex there and dated 6 years later for 3 months. it shut down temporarily because someone posted their dick and balls and then it shut down for good later because someone else tried to hurt themselves. there are other websites i have travelled to with other takeaways and friends that still exist at differing levels in the vacuum with us today.

from the earliest days on forementioned forum, there is a level of being myself i could never do because i'm constantly extracting bits and pieces of my surroundings to build something greater because everything before that rests in uncertainty, when the things you're drawn closest to change your trajectory the most, in the least romantic sense possible (inward musical exploration). it is not exactly the same thing as being unable to behave as yourself around a romantic interest but still feels in line with it's principles. a good example being two of my friends i've made over the years, one who ran a thread on there where they would take 2-3 paragraphs to talk every now and then about a band they really liked in detail, and my other friend who i met off of the garry's mod forum and ran a blogspot with for a little while, both of which i still hold close to this day.

i think these are all of the foundational aspects of my pre-adolescence consciousness. in addition to full social withdrawal and unschooling, to bridge the gap of understanding then and now in the safest way possible with all previous information considered, before getting into other delicate complications; i also shared a bed with my mother for 2-3 of those years

i have been stuck in this place for a very long time in a way. something you can't control eats away at your humanity and renders you unable to function. it feels wrong to say that is an indefinitely self-defeating cycle, as everyone has vastly different personal parameters. i think one of the obvious points about identity and the self is everything is reflected, in your experiences and the people you know, your prospects and retrospects and inability to exist in the present, the decay factor of existing alongside someone and forgetting who they are with time, makes me see comfort as an unequivocal evil. it took a few years of failure, and seemingly feigning to evolve, to truely understand the importance of rejecting desire, certain layers of which will not be stripped from me for as long as i am not wholely apathetic toward the external world. but of those that can be, it kills me to not get this crucial surgical procedure that is very instrumental to taking it apart.

the idea that something else lies in wait to hurt my soul that i cannot avoid is destroying me, and the unattainability of it all equally as so; promiscuous infidels from my stint working in retail trying to connect, older people buying me drinks at shows where i repressed myself, putting their hands on me and exhibiting no more response than raising a question mark, and then others genuinely singling me out for my interests and existence in this infosphere and getting to know me only to be met with my endless pathologisms. you go so wrong every time regardless of the simplicity or complexity of the scenario you can't help but think something is trying to protect you. not to mention my dad got fired late 2019 for fucking other people at his job and our life fell apart (he's been doing this forever, got fired once about 15 years ago for the same thing)

i don't know where my mind existed with all of this stuff existed from '17-19. it feels like things truely only expose themselves to you with repeated failure and time, not just missed opportunity, but from a much greater big picture. the last scripture i brought up at the beginning that i sent to someone was two days after a very important intersection that had immediately sent it into obsolescence. someone had taken their time to drive 30 minutes out to meet me on something we had both agreed upon. i was given a small gift and broke into tears crying onto their shoulder instead of caving into madness. every implication phased through me. at some point i had then taken my socks off and simply stated "i hope this isn't weird". nothing could chisel away at my armor

there are other miscellaneous precise details about what makes up this person and their perceived importance to me, but all of the discussions and words and things in common, as good as they were to them, flew by them when they saw someone caged in chastity. i felt very bad for them that night. it was largely inconveniencing to them i think. they didn't deserve that, and i personally found myself hurting a lot. their interest withered, going as far as deliberately talking about others to provoke protective mating instinct despite never meeting me again.

i met someone very wonderful last december. i still think they're the coolest person ever. and the only person within my near vicinity to reach this level. we talked a bit and met common ground but then let off late december until march. and in my sincerity i had missed the point for the last chance i got. we were supposed to meet in a week then, but i cut off because i'm struggling living life a day at a time. anticipating that things could be good at all. i met the sweetest person ever and i couldn't stop completely losing it to just wait. they said if we met for the first time and i cried (which i anticipate this now, of course) that it would not be a problem. i could've seen what happened but after last time i got upset they suggested we stop talking and i asked for a second chance and i got it. and we agreed to move past it, but i still chose to opt out in face of self-inflicted guilt. it hurts so fucking bad. i would never be able to leave and i needed more attention than i could've got in the meantime which led us to taking long-anticipated action, that one day if we were to stop talking they would have to block me as to submit me to my own withdrawal, and now that is what has happened.

i need to stop doing things out of direct love and understand what the platonic reality encapsulates, the greater message of coexistence. possession, entitlement, commitment, inability to control emotions, expressions of honesty, wants and (supposed) needs to someone and the axises they all operate on and their constant state of flux have spiraled me into chaos. a libidinal catastrophic event. i have rejected the flow state again, not letting things fall into place naturally, digging up the seed i planted, for what feels like it might be the last time. my fate is as uncertain as it's ever been. i have a 7.8bn body count. i have been twisted by anger and resent toward my dad, as well as my inability to outrun the things i inherit from him that i must come to peace with, but it also feels very cut out for me. a lifetime autism diagnosis repressed in telling yourself that all of it's symptoms are in the results your mother received from a doctor and told to you. the condition has only come increasingly full circle, to believe that whatever schizophrenia (is, that) i'm subverting from "showing itself" by channeling the playfulness of the word, by continuing to dismantle everything of it's eventual meaninglessness, so that it doesn't happen, is my calling to simplify myself, and that goal of that would be to abandon this psychosexual construction in favor of new intimate emotional stimuli, whether i am more or less urgent about things afterwards. all i know is urgency without action. identity, sex, and feelings are all merely in the way. i want all of them gone. individuality was a mistake.

i was driving a friend up from tucson a little while ago and totaled my car. was going to make some pretty decent memories with it still i would've thought. but that is just another change of life to adjust to. still, everything is falling apart. i need to file these taxes, make some phone calls and get my bloodwork done but i'm so fucked in the head i can't take a moment. i am the most alienated from my family i have ever been, i no longer make money and running into overdraft. i'm probably missing court dates. i've grown so attached to creation out of devotion that my soul is hollow and i can no longer responsibly or artistically work on a free-functional basis.

i am being choked, but i've also told myself for a while that i must be reduced of all of the things that make me up, to witness the walls truly close in around me, to be able to learn to live, so i guess i am approaching this rapidly. i have been dealt classic cards as old as time that i am unable to override in my autonomy. life is an endless shred of tears and anguish so far, i doubled down on it a few years ago by going to the ward for two weeks, the longest two weeks i ever spent off the internet (happily in a way), and i also do not intend on going again, but nothing is seeming like a plausible extroverted experience, after band shows and warehouse raves, driving to los angeles all the time, all the happy memories alone with their states of constantly unknowing, nothing would make me happier than to be able to exist alongside my friends in as timely as a manner as possible, for every day is feeling more and more like judgement at the end of time. it feels like the wrong thing to do to contemplate the end, to believe that your time has come in a window that you've designated to yourself, that only something greater than your astronomical lack of proper health, hygiene, exercise, sunlight and nurturing could ever determine, and failing to meet the self-destruction deadline every instance it's set. but i continue to do so, because i don't know how things are supposed to get better just yet.

suicide is but another thing you fall victim to, i just don't want to go to jail, and i don't want to turn to evil, but i haven't seem to have taken enough care of myself to omit either of these. if i do good, i will have made the full stretch i believe. if i decide to set fire to everything around me and risk it all, millions of fragments of inversion would explode from my chaos. i have to accept fate with a complacent heart whether it's self inflicted or accidental, or even revoked of my rights. for as long as you're going to keep holding people close to you while you're alive it's important to make these things as clear as possible, to stop discerning who the words you had written were intended for. to abandon malice as long as possible in a world where you feel as if it owes you something, but you pay none of yours back. doing everything wrong for as right as it ever can be. existing in that, every step of the way, is only the most grounded in "reality" thing i could do. i wake up and ask myself every day why i am here among all of my friends, and it bothers me not being able to put a stop to that question, but i simultaneously want to keep believing that it is a currently ongoing realization. what ulterior is there to the world to take apart desire this far. just how much ungodliess can come from trying to stay so true to purity in a world that is hungry for your blood, that only your pathological insanity has protected you from simplifying the acquisition of harnassing. to stay true to powerlessness while seeming as unholy as possible in every step of it's way.

in contrast to the collapse of everything as i know it, friendship and music is absolutely the best it has ever been, i will have you know. i want everything to stop making sense, and i want stop making sense of everything. to keep myself as normal as possible in the event of endless information aggregation. thank you for manifesting (for) me