Millions of years of evolution gave me a pattern-seeking brain to avoid predators and I use it to create a captain Hook themed pinball machine --- ░░░░░░░'s log April 5th 2022 --- Why do I seem to fuck shit up all the time and never allow myself a good life? I feel like good things can happen if I could just let them do. Summer is slowly coming ("summer" lol it's -4 degree today), the sun is setting at 8PM and I am once again losing control over my sleep schedule. But it's not the weather, it's me who chose to stay up late again. Exams are coming and I just enrolled in 2 courses in another university, one is Javascript and the other is basics of Linux. Both unrelated to my field. Got a research paper due in a week and 2 days. I don't know how I got myself into all of this. It's me who chose to have chocolate muffins for dinner, it's me who chose to focus on the wrong thing, it's me who chose to watch Drag Race for catharsis, it's me who chose to hold on to this demanding hobby while I can't even take care of myself. I've spent about 40 euros on Neocities without really utilizing any of it. Parents started to suggest me to "settle down" in this country I'm living in. It's not their fault. They just want a decent and fulfilling life, for both of us I guess, they just want to see some sign of stability in me. I feel inadequate for not knowing how to live the life they think I can live. Let alone being a role model for young people at home who aspire to have the chance I do, I can't be an idol. I'm the last person that should be idolized. Do not look up to me. Whatever you think I achieved, it doesn't come from a place of hard work, good inner sense and talent. It comes from impulses, privilege and social expectations. It comes from toxic masculinity with a sprinkling of bullshit. Oh to be a drag queen. Oh to open up in front of a row of judges and thousands of viewers and fucking cry in front of them while delivering a story of your tragic, marginalized past as part of your success story.
The highway is for gamblers, better use your sense --- ███████'s log 26.3.22 --- All your seasick sailors, they're rowing home. All your reindeer armies, they're all going home. The lover who has just walked out the door Has taken all his blankets on the floor. The carpet, too, is moving under you And it's all over now, Baby Blue. Leave your stepping stone behind, something calls for you. Forget the dead you've left, they will not follow you. The vagabond who's rapping at your door Is standing in the clothes that you once wore. Strike another match, go start anew And it's all over now, Baby Blue. ------
"maybe if you take a hot shower. cook something. eat a little soup. feel a little sunshine. make something with your hands---it doesn't have to be big. maybe if you strech your body and draw a silly little picture and get some rest, the worl will feel like something your hands can still hold."> feeling this as im getting back to drawing.
The discord --- ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓'s log Feb 27 --- written on MacBook Pro browsing the web --- Two days after the first bombing of Ukraine, and the news start to blot out everywhere. Film posters on the street replaced by calls for donation. Social counselors provide emotional support for students worried by world situation. Massive media coverage on the matter, of which I don't know much because I've been living under a rock. But just lately I went to The Pirate Bay and was greeted with a pop-up window with a picture of Putin as Hitler and a text saying "Fuck Putin. Donate to the Ukrainian army". It was the only instance where I was not annoyed by pop-up windows on a website. I wonder if I cared about the war just because I'm living in a Western country. It is about time I realized that political news are faked/cherry-picked on both sides of the fight to a certain extent, and that I should take everything I see and hear with a grain of salt. Online tension stirred up internet discord. Ukrainian content creators open up about their personal safety and concerns, at the same time pressure is put on Russian creators who aren't vocal about it, who are probably also facing difficulties due to the measures applied by the West to isolate Russia financially (blocking SWIFT etc). The web is so divided. I wonder if I cared about the war just because it might affect me. But after all, it's not happening to us. It may get our attention and we may do something to help, but I think we all know that no amount of citizen donation can radically stop the war. I can brush the fear away by assuming that it will not happen to us. But instead I find myself thinking about it every moment I'm not distracted from it. Not just this war, but The War. Today I watched Nina Paley's Seder-Masochism and sorted things out a little. I watched the "This Land Is Mine" number so many times that I had it remembered by now. So each time I'm reminded of how real the war is getting, I think of "This Land Is Mine" and the bitterness of it all, the fake grandeur of world leaders and war wagers. Some of those that work forces are the same that burn crosses, right?
The War --- ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓'s log Feb 25 --- written on MacBook Pro while listening to BBC World Service --- That afternoon russian troops dropped missiles on Ukraine, my flatmate rushed home and told me to stock up on food. People are in a state of anxiety since food and gas price has risen due to the warfare. And I was like ....what warfare? I realized that news was never in my media diet. I cut myself off of TV and social media, and I was too deep into my old tech bubble which removed me from any kind of novelty. Reading online newspaper is about the last thing I want to do. So I turned on the radio and started listening to it regularly ever since. Fran Lebowitz said that the great thing about radio news is that they repeat the news every 20-ish minutes. It doesn’t matter how horrible the news is: the fifth time you hear it, it doesn’t sound that bad. It still sounds bad though. At least you get the much needed time to reflect how bad it is instead of jumping into a heated debate in a comment section. Refugees are rushing out of Kyiv, but only women, children (<18) and men over 60 can flee the country. Ukrainian martial laws states that men at the age of 18 to 60 will stay and fight to protect the nation. I realized the horrible implication of this. It's always the war that put women in kitchens and men into battlefields. It's always the war that enables sex-based protection, that divides people into these particular categories: those who get protection and those who have to provide it. It's always the war. Finland isn't too far away from the Russia-Ukraine border. A guy at my workplace told me that if Russia was to invade Finland, it would take a single morning. I told my dad about that, and he said the guy had a point.
███████'s log 1.2.22 --- Every step you've taken disappears with the tide. You're torn up and shaken with changing your mind. You haven't got the grace to say you'll finally decide. And you haven't got the strength to stay and fight. Those people who surround you only want to see you weak enough to crawl. They'll lie for you, decide for you and buy up all your rights and all your wrongs. And they'll try to stop your singing in the middle of your song. For they do not want you free and they will not make you strong but only drag you down in the hole they're coming from. They say you are foolish in wanting the sun. Say you are selfish in learning to run. And they'll tell you that the darkness is a blessing in disguise. For you never have to notice if you're sighted or you're blind. And they'll do their best to keep you from the light. You're more than beginning You're learning to fly It feels like you're falling But it passes in time I hate to see a friend go down in flames without a song, So I'm waiting by the doorway but I will not linger long. I'm leaving by night, I'm leaving alone, I'm leaving it lie, When you're waken I'll be gone. I would not beg for me, As I could not beg for you, But I'd like to be the one to see you through. ------ "From me to you" from the album "Souvenirs: Best of Janis Ian 1972-1981". I remember stealing this CD to gift a girl in middle school. It was my version of a love letter or something. Today some of the lyrics rushed in my mind. This was my favorite song of the album but I've never notice the depth of these lyrics, they still speak for me. I kind of wish I didn't give it away haha I'm regretting it now. I wish I had 13-year-old me here to help me deal with my shit she seems much more grounded than I do. Memories, weird to know that I've lived long enough to have them.
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒'s log 31/01/22 --- written on BlackBerry KeyTwo skipping physics --- And what if life is just this? What if life is just wasting your time and being content with that? What if life is just coping for the sake of coping and not to get better? I won't be anyone's idol. I won't be getting new achievements, all of the things I've "achieved" in the past wasn't mine anyways. It was yours. It's all yours! Take your credits and leave. I don't cherish them. I don't want to be seen as a hall of achievements. I'm not bad, I'm just not the same as your golden child. I don't care if others got it worse than me, actually I do care and it sucks that we're all suffering under similar frameworks and they got it even worse. I'm not going to fucking normalize this the way our parents did. I will fight to be seen as a real person.
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓'s log Jan 28 --- written on MacBook Pro eating dark chocolate --- You know you're under stress when you want to eat something all the time. You're very well fed and your meals always consist of carbs, protein, veggie, and a drink. You're not hungry. It's comfort food. When nothing else gives you the comfort you need perhaps food does. Even for a brief moment. But limit your dark chocolate consumption. I will actively remind you that the last time you ate half of a chocolate bar at once you got caffein rush and didn't stop shaking for a few hours. You don't want that to happen again, so stop reaching for that pocket of the fridge. Maybe throw the chocolate bar in the freezer so it's not in view / desirable anymore. Leave this page on hang. I hate to say this, but you're ridiculous about the page. You were doing fine for a few days and things were getting into its place until you once again worked on a stupid bug until 6 AM. That's bad practice, and it comes with a penalty. Stop. You will not make any update to the page and you will not touch codes for at least a week or until you get your schedule together. Hide Brackets and the Developer folder from the desktop. You can't skip another chemistry deadline. In Alcoholic Anonymous they say if you can't think your way to the right action you've got to act your way to the right thinking.
If your hands need to break more than trinkets in your room --- ░░░░░░░'s log January 18th 2022 --- written on Lenovo Ideapad while tidying up my room --- I'm waiting for you to get mad at me. I'm waiting for you to tell me that you tried to talk it out with me, not once but multiple times, and that I tried your patience. Come on, take it out on me. Tell me how you forgave me everytime like Mother Theresa while I remained an indolent, ungrateful brat. Tell me how hard you tried, tell me all your struggles. I know you will, it's just a matter of time. From the time we lived together I've learned that everything I do will have consequences. It's inevitable and I'll face it. I'm not fearless, I just fully expect it to happen. I do what I want, and you'll forgive me but I know that your anger will accumulate and it will spill out splashing all over the floor one day. So be it. Be angry. Your anger is justified, because I would still show little to no remorse. I think I deserve my punition, but also, I don't regret the things I did, nor will I change my behavior. That's one more reason to be angry. Go ahead, be angry now. I'm here now, I'm idle and I'm safe. I enjoy our fleeting connection through the phone screen, it's much healthier than whatever we had before. I know that I'm not seeing the full picture, the whole you, and I'm glad I'm not. The you who threatened to stop funding my higher education if I don't behave myself. The you who took pride in my success. The you who think it's your failure when I do something bad, who think you should've been harsher on me. You should. You've always been, but you can be a little bit more, because I can take it. I am the first child you always wanted, I am tough, I'm going places. Are you so proud of me now. Come on go ahead try me. Go ahead do it do it.
░░░░░░░'s log January 14th 2022 --- written on Lenovo Ideapad --- I should’ve known that my freedom is temporary. I can run away from them, but just for a while. Time is running out. I’m enjoying my time way too much, I should’ve used it for a valid purpose. Soon, I will have to go back, or they will catch up and catch me. The absolute fear of having to go back is probably what motivates me to use my time efficiently, to utilize my freedom while it lasts. This fear is my drive. I’m scared. Of going back. Whenever someone is close to discover their potentials, their community is gonna hold them back, and maybe that’s life. Maybe life is about knowing where to stop. Maybe all of the limits in our life were created to keep us sane and functioning, to keep us human enough, to keep us dependant on each other. Maybe that’s not necessarily a bad thing. The bad thing is why, in a unit of community that everybody could thrive in and appreciate, do I always feel like I’m living in 1984? Why does it feel like torture here? Why is everybody else fine? Why me? Is it a me problem? If I don’t fit with the rest of you why was I born among you? Or was I born to balance out the beauties and the talents among us? There has to be an ugly and terrible trainwreck, and the odds decided that it's me? I like to think otherwise, I like to think that we’re all terrible and ugly to a certain level, I just happen to be the one who shows it all out. I’m just being vocal about the things that (supposedly) should be kept to myself. I like to think that many of you might be depressed, and your depression just didn’t make it to the surface like mine did. Everybody copes differently. I like to think that all of you are multi-dimensional people with your own problems, so that I can empathize with you more easily. So that I, too, won't feel left out. I’m scared of going back. I’d rather be in the middle of nowhere. I’m scared of living among you again. It puts a burden on me, one that I cannot explain but can only feel. It makes me tired.
Between two blogs --- ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒'s log 13/01/22 --- written on BlackBerry KeyTwo reading Neonaut's blog --- Neonaut wrote: "I am always amazed by people who link their fannish/creative identities to their real world identity online and have no anxiety about it. The decision to link identities is painstaking for me." "Once you cross streams you can never go back, and as a pathologically private person who changes their mind constantly I’ve learned I shouldn’t build online bridges I cannot expediently and completely burn." Feeling this so bad. My whole existence was pretty much pseudonymous, all of the friends I used to have or still have are internet mutuals who knew me through online artist communities. We got in touch through artist alleys and offline play dates, and eventually knew each other in "real" life, though we mostly called each other by pseudonyms. As recent as 2019, I still feel like people that inhabit internet spaces are the only ones that cared about me or have an idea of what I'm doing in life. I went to university once and met a bunch of new people but I guess I failed to connect with them in any meaningful way. As of 2021, I moved to another country and I'm going to university again. I don't know if the pandemic and the very fact that I'm a foreigner contributed to any of this, but it feels so queer being known and referred to by my real name. Maybe I'm just fucked in the head so it feels weird to even be perceived as a person by now. A few of my classmates shared their internet persona too, mostly musical creatives with funky Bandcamp / Soundcloud names. It's nice to see that they, too, are taking part in this online ecosystem. I didn't share mine, partly because I don't have anything "nice" on here that I'd like to show off, partly because I don't want my "real" identity to be associated with the online one. As I said most of my remaining friends are online artists I've met on s*cial m*dia platforms. I don't know how to go about e0x0e0 with them. Maybe it's because they knew me by my artist pseudonym, which I strongly associated with my artist persona, and sometimes I wanted to be nothing more than an online artist to them. The fleeting connection of the 'Net is rather comforting. Sometimes I feel like it's not a wise thing to let them know me as a person, or as a coder, or as a naturalist, or as e0x0e0, that I'm better off being known (by them) as just the creator of my art. But I also hate staying in the comfy bubble of my artist persona, I hate thinking that drawing is the only good thing I could do or that being an artist is the only way I could make any friend. I might just let them know about this, it might be the point of no return, they might not like/care about this new niche but at least they might care about me and my little ideas. Well, I could only hope that they do.
Fireworks --- ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓'s log Dec 31 + Jan 1 --- written on MacBook Pro while coding --- It’s been hours since the noise has started, and it’s still going on. It sounds somewhat like gun fires, somewhat like a bunch of snowballs hitting my window at 50 mph. All I know is that it’s loud and extremely annoying, and kind of menacing. I thought it was some prank or just my shitty neighbors making loud undefined noise as usual. It wasn’t until I peeked through the kitchen curtain that I realized it’s fireworks. Man, people do really have spare money huh, I thought, who the hell fired this shit at this hour, and this near to my house? They’re celebrating? Hell, they didn’t even have fireworks during Independence Day. Am I missing something? What day is it? Oh… um… December 31st? Wait, uh, so December 32nd doesn’t exist. Wait. Last day of the… year? New Year Eve? 2021 is ending? Yeah, I’m really missing out big time. I kept telling myself “Go outside, the plague has ended” and kept failing to do so. And now not only has Christmas passed without me knowing it, 2022 is also coming in half an hour. What does that even mean, 2022? Don’t you get it? Just half an hour from now, I can start to say things like, “in 2020, which is 2 YEARS AGO”. 2019 would be 3 years ago and 2016 would be like, forever ago. What I’m just gonna play a little song and enjoy the last 30 (now 14) minutes of 2021. And then, back to work I guess. GRAB YOUR CHANCE OTHERWISE TIME WON’T WAIT IT ALWAYS FLIES LIFE IS FLASHING BEFORE YOUR EYES SO LIVE IT UP IDEALIZE DON’T STOP TO COMPROMISE LIFE JUST KEEPS ON FLASHING BEFORE YOUR EYES 00:00 and the fireworks sound even worse. They’re coming and they’re coming in numbers. They’re now right at my backyard, their light piercing the curtain of my room, flashing before my eyes. Top bar of the desktop says Jan 1. -------------- Instead of sleeping, I just read the first 6 chapters of a fiction novel about a british Time Traveler being lost in the year 8 thousands something, struggling with all the new civilization and his own attempt to understand it. I felt a weird relation to him, greeting New Year alone in a strange land because I was unable to unplug my mind and befriend someone. I locked myself in my own room blasting distorted music, accompanied by fireworks noise and the laughter of the people on the upper floor at 3 AM. It would’ve been an alienating experience if I wasn’t reading about this fictional man whose struggles far exceeded whatever I’m going through. I went to bed without crying today. Instead, I curled up in my blanket in a cocoon position, or fetus position? I was in this position once in an art therapy session where the host asked us to lie on a piece of A0 paper in our “most relaxing position” and while others were lying straight, I was straight up in the womb. And here I am again, curled up and scared, not of the approaching night but of the morning and the life that comes when I wake up again, of the terrible life decisions I’ve made and the confusion I’ve created for myself. I gripped my blanket the way I’m holding on for dear life, and turned into a small, stupid, wary, miserable little creature. I looked so small, so ridiculous, almost comedic that it became entertaining, in fact, I couldn’t help but laughed. It’s the benefit of having a third-person view at yourself, being able to laugh at your own mediocracy, being the audience to your own embarassing performance. The realization that no matter how much effort and hardship (I thought) I went through, I’m still small, naive, unknown, unwise, living in a claustrophobic unit and easily overwhelmed/astonished by these things. The notion that I’m ever so mediocre, the imperfection that lies in everything I do. My very unrefined, rampant, hyperspecific and all-over-the-place writing. My clumsy approach to learn art, HTML and everything else. My skewed view on life and the audacity to use my prepaid 4G to spew all of this bullshit online. The irony of it all was laughable. It was strangely uplifting. It brought me the weird comfort I also got when being bedridden on my birthday. It brought me joy, something I was seeking in fun and parties and other people but couldn’t find. As I said, I went to bed without crying today, breaking the cycle that has been repeating for a week? or two? didn’t count. But it’s always been that way. 6 days of misery and 1 day of success. Or vice versa. I break every cycle and routine I managed to be in, good or bad. It’s hitting rock bottom and bouncing back. It’s reaching the peak and pulled down again by gravity. At least today ended well, and it also happened to be New Year Eve. So dare I say it’s gonna be a good year? Just kidding, no superstition allowed in this house. All I know about my life is that it’s going to end someday, and it’s so fleeting it won’t even matter for so long. As soon as the last person that remembers me die (which is pretty soon if you ask me) I’ll just perish as if I’ve never existed. And still with that morbid humour comes a way of living. Nihilism doesn’t mean that life has no meaning, it means that life could mean anything we assign it, as there’s no initial value for that, the possibilities are endless. I like being a fool at the very start of its journey, learning things from scratch, trials and fails. Drifting free in any direction, be it to go west, into untamed, wild flat territory, go east and find a new, fresh perspective on the classics, or Robert Peary out and be the first to trek into uncharted northern lands. An incomplete house is one with a lot of room for improvements, (supposedly) you can put anything into that room. But if you keep putting things in that space it must reach a limit and become complete one day right? Not if it’s self-destructive. Haha. Oh my god I need to sleep.
Sleep cry repeat --- ░░░░░░░'s log December 2nd 2021 --- written in the bathroom after waking up at 7 in the evening --- Just had the craziest sleep ever and my perception of time is skewed. So I woke up it's slightly dark outside and I checked my phone it says 7:48 and I was like "shit am I late for school, what are we having today gotta check Tuudo". I checked Tuudo and realized that it's still Thursday, and it's 7:48 PM. What the fuck. Crying for another hour. How did my schedule become just sleep and cry and repeat. --- God damn it. God damn it. God damn it. God damn it. I’m still trying to live without you seeing me on a platform. This is the end of me, right? I don’t exist anymore. There isn’t anything exciting from me for you to look forward to. I’m nothing more than the total sum of my singular thoughts and actions and impulsive facebook posts. Social media were created to fit a generation that demands to perform, and if I don’t have an audience then I guess I’m just gonna rot. I set up an IRC client just to realize that I don’t even want to have instant chatting anymore. Partly because I like to hear from a friend after a while and have a sum up of their latest few months, I feel like it’s more focused and intriguing that way. But also partly because I don’t want to have a platform that lets me know you’re online and ignoring me, to remind me that I am indeed being out of touch, that I am detach from the rest of the world that’s using instant communication. Yeah my whole life is this page, but I don’t want to increase traffic/exposure and I don’t want people to check it every fucking day? Yeah my entire existence is online, but I don’t want to use chat services? Am I pretentious for thinking that I can find a better alternative? Maybe I am pretentious for pushing everyone I know away just to find a better alternative? What exactly is the reason why I’m finding a better alternative anyways? World peace? The downfall of capitalism? To stop Jeff Bezos from landing Mars? Am I really trying to find a better alternative or do I just need a reason to disappear? “I know a lot of my friends are sick and tired of the platforms we currently have, I wanted to walk so that you can run.” What the fuck does that even mean? Who do I think I am? --- I can do this. I can use my tech skills for the good. I can use my stubborn nature for the good. I can utilize my flaws as a strength, I can do something good for once. I can at least try. I’ll try to be a good person just one more time.
Tired --- name's log date --- written on while --- Now look at my eyes and tell me that I don't seem like I spent half of the day crying and the rest of the time staring at a screen. Hey, at least the day started well. I started the day high and it ends so low. At least I was productive, doing all my missed homework and so on, why am I always more eager to learn when I'm not in school?
▒▒▒▒▒▒▒'s log 30/10/21 --- written on BlackBerry KeyTwo --- Graveyard of Ideas is currently down :) I never knew that the project only lasted until 10/10/21. Yikes. There's only one (1) capture of it on the Wayback Machine and of course that doesn't work at all. I can't believe that the Graveyard of Ideas itself ended up in its own graveyard one day... RIP...? Just stumbled upon a screenshot garden. https://screenshot.garden/leaf.html Tbh, I've been thinking of these "screenshot gardens" as not purely screenshots but depiction of a life taken over by internet irrelevance, and a whole culture of trauma dumping / identifying with the morbid humor coming from those screenshots. Taking a glance at my screenshots album, I can totally see that 99% of them are just single-serving laughs. A screenshot in my definition is ultimately something that takes up the most of your time yet makes no sense and leaves nothing in your head afterwards.
Time is passing --- ░░░░░░░'s log October 19th 2021 --- written on Lenovo Ideapad while binge snacking --- It's been 80 days without social media. It's been 225 days without drawing, but I broke the streak because I just drew something yesterday. What else. It's been 20 minutes without an Internet connection. Sometimes I feel like that woman who aborted her child but still think about it everyday and see it everywhere, imagining scenarios that could've happened had the baby been born. Even though she knew abortion was the right choice to make, even though she knew she was physically, mentally and financially not ready to support the child. She was enjoying her life without the burden in her ovaries... She thanked the child for giving her another chance to live, but it took time to ignore the friction in her mind. I know in my heart that I couldn't maintain a socmed page (without completely destroying my mental health), but shit gets me to question my will all the time. Where am I gonna broadcast my shitty opinions to the world again? Who's gonna applaud when I say that oat milk is better than dairy milk, or that I don't care for free jazz because I like my jazz caged? How am I gonna form parasocial relationships with my favorite niche internet microcelebrity? Where am I gonna get peer review for my art? How am I gonna- I know most of these sounds like shitty excuses, because they are. All said and done, my socmeds accounts are down for 80 days so far. Some of my friends thought I was brave to quit, while I was only stupid enough to make the move and stubborn enough to keep up with it. Just because I deleted my socmed accounts doesn't mean I'm better than any of you. I've been there, and I've been worse, I used to post 50 music stories to my IG whenever I felt "moody" and spend hours down a rabbit hole of thrift shop recommendations. Taking a look at my 2019 screenshots album is seriously the highest level of self-acceptance I've ever reached. We all know the way socmed beg for our attention and exploit our psyche to keep us active. I know a lot of my friends are sick and tired of it but they rely on socmed as their only mean of communication, especially during lockdown. I know a lot of my creative friends deserve a much better platform than the stupid looking ones we have. I had the privilege to leave it and I did, I aimed to find a better alternative where I can reunite my internet mutuals without all the big corps bullshit. I'd like to walk so that they can run, or I'd like to run after people who's already started the quest for better platforms. That was the initial goal, but it'll need to be repeated over and over again because I'm so forgetful.
18/10/21 ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒'s log --- written on BlackBerry Key Two on bed --- Today I: - Washed the dishes but forgot that I've already washed the dishes so I stared at the empty sink with surprise. - Threw away more food than I should. - Slept at 4AM last night. Do I want to keep destroying my sleep cycle tonight? No. - Should've paid the rent
On a time diet --- ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓'s log Oct 11 --- I measure my time on every task and set limits on it, just like how a person on a diet weigh their food every meal. Every time I do a small task that isn't supposed to take time, I'll actively remind myself like "Don't spend over 5 minutes doing this. It all adds up." The idea is to be overly conscious about time, not because time is moving fast or life is too short or something, just because I should, I'm re-learning how to be conscious about the surrounding environment again. Hopefully I'll gain control of my time spending habit. I think time-saving tips and tricks are, ironically, rather *a waste of time* if you don't know how to spend your time correctly in the first place. No amount of saving can offset mindless spending. Saving time who? I'm trying to save myself haha --- I'm the kind of person who just need to indulge in something. Sometimes it's drawing, sometimes it's scrolling, sometimes it's doing thermodynamics homework. Or coding or immersing in music or making picrews gaming reading collecting staring at walls and being existential. I just need to give my whole attention to a certain thing and let it consume me. Keep me busy, keep me from human interactions. I want to do so much. I want to do so much more. There's just not enough time in a day for me to do anything there's not enough time in this menial life for me to complete everything I've started. I'm the kind of person who just need to indulge in something. Sometimes I would trick myself to indulge in something that is actually helpful, like cleaning the house or doing homework. Sometimes though, shit happens. And by shit I mean this site. This boulevard of wasted indulgence. Look at all these useless information that is never going to help me getting anywhere in life, except perhaps the psych ward. --- # About I keep doing all these things and I don't know why.
The Previous One --- ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒'s log 09/10/21 --- written on BlackBerry KeyTwo --- It's hard. It's been hard. What's been hard? Nothing. Everything has been better and easier than the previous one. Still it feels like something's missing. What's missing? The previous one. Nowhere to be found, every"one" is here except for the previous one. But that's why it's called the *previous* one, right? if it's here now it would be the *next* one. The previous one must be fully discarded for you to then adopt the *next one*, that's time. I'm still figuring out how to discard the previous one although it's already gone and I don't know what it is anymore. Sometimes things and stuffs reminds me of it for a brief moment, and then it is *previous* again. --- Rewatching Black Swan today. Transformation is always painful. I felt Nina, her skills and techniques are perfect but her spirit screams a fatal vulnerability. The way that her mentor constantly stab in her weak spot to push her to the metamorphosis and the way she was hurt everytime. The way she morphed herself to get tougher, to bite the bullet and ignore this vulnerability. Her descend to madness, the way she was hopelessly trying to dance her way out of the pit she was in.
Can't make jokes anymore? Just be the joke. --- ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒'s log 09/10/21 --- written on school computer --- Mood after finishing Bo Burnham's new special: __________ /,========,\ || ||\ || /\ || | || /--\ || | Press A to cry || || | \+========+. | `----------`'
What the fuck is a doomsday dome? --- 10/09/21 ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒'s log --- Once upon a time there exists a billionaire named e0x0e0. And like most billionaires of the world, e0x0e0 was priviledged enough to lie on their couch (that can probably sit 10 persons) and worry about The End Of The World. As a result, they ended up splurging time and resources on this massive construction site called the doomsday dome. It was designed specifically for days when they are so doomed, when they're too idle to the point that life seems pointless, when they're too anguished to the point that life seems pointless, when they realize that every single decision they've made was a bad one and they lose the last person who was kind and patient enough to put up with them, when they strive so hard for a goal that they forget the initial reason why they strive for it, when they think that they're better off being a rock than being human and they want to commit soil science. This place is: A. a rest & recovery centre B. an art hall D. a freak show E. a circus C. their Copium C. the sweet spot between everything A. none of the above Of course, e0x0e0 probably had too much time on their hand. Much like the biblical doomsday, these scenarios are wildly exagerated and unlikely to happen. Or are they...? e0x0e0 soon realized that even though they planned to save this place for a rainy day, they ended up spending a huge chunk of their time here. They find themself hurry to come back for it after a long day, they find a sense of attachment every morning when they need to leave this idyll and rejoin the plague of the outside world. It makes them question if they're always in a doomsday state or if this place was designed not specifically for doomsday, if they should actually call it the Good Place. e0x0e0 realizes that there could exist a place that comforts them even when they're not feeling terrible. e0x0e0 realizes that as pretentious and selfish as they are, e0x0e0 have never had a Good Place of their own, a place that is for them and about them. e0x0e0 don't know how to end this entry. --- Q: Are you an actual billionaire? A: If I received a dollar everytime I made a self deprecating joke, yes.
I overthink, therefore I overam. --- ███████'s log 26.8.21 --- while making breakfast & listening Flight by Son Lux --- People kept telling me "You're brave" when they found out that I flew abroad on my own. I don't think there's anything brave about it though. Maybe I was naive, maybe I was priviledged enough to be used to flying around (domestically) so I knew all about the procedures. So I booked my flight and I packed my stuff and that's about it. My parents funded me and I couldn't ask for more. Maybe I was cynical when I left home. I couldn't get into details, but things are getting pretty bad in my family, it was getting bad for my mental and physical health. I wanted to leave. Living in the dorm was not enough, I needed to go further. I wanted to leave so badly to the point that I have this thought. It's not exactly suicidal. I just think that if I manage to pack my stuff and step out of the doorway, that's already a win. If I can step on the plane, I couldn't care less if the plane is gonna crash and I'm gonna die halfway. I was just a legal runaway. I lived in the present, probably for the first time ever. I remember looking out of the window and keep thinking about free fall, about curved space and how gravity isn't real, about that one time Einstein theorized that floating in space is the same as free fall. Does that make skydivers equal to astronauts? Free fall isn't what kill you but the sudden stop is. I too would love to float in space some day. I don't want to bitch about myself or my circumstances anymore. I'd forgive anyone, I'm born anew and I just don't want to carry that load of hatred. Trade this heavy cage of bones for flight. My first big task was done, I'm here now, and in a way, I wouldn't be here without these people. Now that I have time and space for forgiveness, I may allow it. Living here was infinitely better for both me and them. I eat better, I sleep better, my schedule is that of a normal human being, my sinusitis completely disappeared despite the cold weather, my head is shaved, my crops are watered, my cows are fed, my skin is clear, my depression is cured (sike) and my day is 10 times better. I just buzzed my head for the third time, this time with fade.
some more logs --- 20/08/21 ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒'s log --- the day consisted of looking at things I've done feeling like I've accomplished so much and then looking at what I want to do thinking why I can't get anything done. maybe I need to start a stoicist routine to acknowledge the things I've done throughout the day to unlearn all this feeling of uselessness. maybe I should just stop thinking and do what's in reach. --- Do it the Bill Wurtz way, just take a long hard look at yourself and figure out what you want to do, and do it. Shouldn't take effort, should take joy. Negativity is a choice I should stop making.
░░░░░░░'s log August 15th 2021 --- written on Lenovo Ideapad while talking to myself --- i gave up the path that you kept going, and now everyone is better than me. i kept telling myself to be brave and to do my own things, how hard would it be? is this how hard it would be? looking back at the community I'm no longer a part of, knowing that if I join them again I would hurt myself but if I don't join them I'm back with this terrible solitude? is that how hard it would be? i could've been fine on my own.
▓▓▓▓▓▓▓'s log Aug 15 --- written on my phone while picking mushrooms --- Everyday I go outside and touch some grass, and each time I feel a little less human. Sometimes it seems like I've lost handle on the most basic human things, like language, like having an identity, like using human tools and instruments in the way that they were ought to be used and not upside down. When I'm out in the woods long enough, and by that I mean like 15 minutes, I realize that the overwhelming noises and callings of the animals there don't differ much from what I've heard from a chat group. The sounds were clusters, there were apes, there were birds, and then there were things I couldn't identify but sounded so similar to a hum of a lady. Of course, I can point out the differences and I can tell that it's not actual human words, but just by listening I know that their sounds and our sounds were composed by the same properties. Vibrations from the throat, patterns from millions of years of evolution. It's obnoxious, our chatter, the thing that we've glorified as what makes us more advanced than others animals. We're so proud of our little invention, the spoken language, but does it really convey more information compared to the fundamental properties of speech such as tone, accent, speed, pauses, and disfluencies? Not to mention body language, which takes up the most part of our communication. The animals, they all have it. We're not fucking unique. We're not the only ones with language, or civilization, or infrastructures, or emotions. Of course, you might argue that we are the only ones with spaceships and internet. We've done so much for this world: we've studied it, we saved animals. We're so cool that we invented quantum science. Yeah, but at what cost?
The Good Place --- 14/08/21 ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒'s log --- This is it, I'm doing it, I'm going to create my good place. I still don't have a clear idea of what a good place is, but I know what it isn't. I know that my good place is gonna be anywhere but this awful platform I had. I know that it's not gonna be a mindless scroll through some ready-to-consume content, I know that it's not gonna be an orgy of self-branding powered by ads, I know that it's not gonna gaslight our feelings by showing us a vague number and base our value on it. I know that it won't give us FOMO and a receeding attention span. But what will it give us, then? Have a long stare into the unknown. But can you blame me for not coming up with a solution? We're all conditioned by our new wilderness. We're living in hell and we don't even recognize it, for some reasons everyone just accept to compromise and deal with it in silence. I am but a raging individual. I might be one of those dystopian novel protagonists who surrendered to the powerful dictatorian system in the end, but I won't regret a moment fighting agaisnt this shit, even if it's a hopeless fight and all of these solutions I came up with wouldn't work. --- This creator have so many content and no idea how to make it look all cohesive.
Despite the plans we made... --- ░░░░░░░'s log August 6th 2021 --- listening Tomorrows by Son Lux --- Some will walk, some will run, but as we go we'll lose everyone. Deal with it, they never gave a flying shit about you, or your internet persona, or any of your small ideas. It was as fleeting as it could get, and you could only blame the platform, the same platform that gave people FOMO and broke their humour. You couldn't blame the people, because they're just human, with a life somewhere, with physical and virtual limits. What else could they do? They were fish out of water and you were bird in a river, you never learned to swim and you just got to accept that failure as the essence of your existence. You can't keep staying in a place where you don't belong, you can't afford to keep dealing with it. You think the web was supposed to be another dimension which exists above time and space, not this disposable, temporary mess. If that kind of web exists, hopefully you'll find people there, or more likely, people will find you there. They will, it's just a matter of time. But hey, time doesn't exist.
███████'s log 1.8.21 --- Eric talked about his friend who went from suicidal to the most vibrant and resourceful person and that gave me an emotional surge. I know that feeling looking at a friend who's on the way of recovering, because that's what I see looking in the mirror. Sometimes when I dance and do funny face and see how much of a lively person I am / could be, I think about little me circa 2016 and I wonder how my circumstance could've dragged this vibrant person almost lifeless.
Extroverts are just built different. Jul 9 i live with an extrovert. she'd initiate an awkward conversation then give up when she realized that I was actually so lost in thoughts that i couldn't form a proper sentence, although i seemed to be hyperfocused in my salad. physically i'm washing a lettuce, mentally i'm contemplating life and death and the esoteric language of ACPC villagers. i thank Steve Jobs or whoever invented and popularized the smart phone, for it being the most effective way to silent an extrovert. don't you just love it when an extrovert stop talking to you and start looking at their phone? amen. common extrovert behavior: - sticking their nose into absolutely every fucking thing you do, not with a bad intention but with a grin and pure will to communicate. - telling you every little things about their day while your engagement slowly dissolves into nothingness, but you don't want to be rude so you reside to "yeah", "right" and "uh-huh". - letting you know how much they want to go outside everyday, IN THE MIDST OF A PANDEMIC. i bet she's equally annoyed by my aloof manner as I'm annoyed by her awkward small talk. aloof can be read as ignorant and extrovert can be read as aggressive, sometimes. guess i could say that we have mutual respect, and mutual disagreement.
02/07/21 just gonna walk by wihtout saying hello?
Jun 24 I wish I could pay a bit more attention to the external world and its people. I've talked when I should've listened, I've wrote more than I've read, living carelessly is writing bills in my life's credit card. I've never really paid for my actions. Maybe I need to go through hell just so my spoiled ass could be more craving and grateful, and deserving maybe, of the good? No matter how much I always compromise, reconcile, pointing out the positive in a bad situation... Deep down I just want to chew each and every head off. Destroy friendship, return to fiends. I get sick of what they call the magic cure for everything, I'm sick of that "Together, we can do it" sort of shit. Together, we can do it wrong. This egocentrism is going to kill me, we all know that close-minded people will die wasted in basements with their selfish personal achievements. I don't want to bring others down with me, because no matter up or down, I don't want to BRING any with me. But in a world of dense togetherness, this is not how it works. People clash violently into each others' lives like birds and planes like billiard balls on a pool, that's how it works. From preschool tokens to highschool slogans we were taught together is magic and together is imperative. "If you want to go fast go alone, if you want to go far go together." You are nothing without the people around you, they will shape and make your life but if your life sucks you'll have no one to blame.
Conversing with my dad is a fun sport June 16th 2021 Fuck it, man. At this rate whatever gets me out of this household would work, even a job in a remote farm on Da Lat. I miss striving so hard because I want to get better and not because I'm scared of being your disappointment. I missed the me who was focused, who administrates and excels at the things I do. I wonder where that person was, sometime I forgot they exist. I feel immensely disappointed and torn down just looking at confident people. Because where is mine? where did my confident go? was it killed, thrown away, hidden, or was it never there in the first place? How did I become the self conscious type who only start functioning in the middle of the night to cry for no reasons or reflect on things I couldn't change? Why did I become the slack, the unfit, the sleep schedule ruiner? You say you want the better me? You'll never WANT the better me more than I do.