this might be the end of this place

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suss

okay, so...i'm trying to figure out some very embedded, confusing things. 'cause there's something fucky going on between the layers of myself. and my first impression was that this wouldn't help, because who i was here is locked into my present impressions as a troublesome, sad creature. but there are miscommunications and conflict and things in myself that aren't being honored...or something...honor is probably too distinct of a word for what i mean. i don't fuckin know, really, i guess i just got the feeling recently that part of myself wasn't respecting some of the lower aspects of my various other selves, which was causing problems. and i guess it seemed potentially useful to confront gonzo prophet for a moment.

i'm a mixed up jumble of many perceptions. and i don't ever want to repress anything that any aspect of it feels. i know that that's not really effective...it just causes festering and confusion. so, i try really hard to truly face what i feel and think and experience. but something's getting repressed without me being fully conscious of it. i've made some good progress lately and now that i'm trying to pin words to all of this, it occurs to me that maybe some of it is just echoes of a me recently enough passed that they're still haunting us a little and will naturally, even unexamined, fade with time - assuming the progress i've made is solid...but i'm also concerned that it might naturally continue and escalate, which could eventually lead to a full and negative split in perception. and, according to the uncertain terror that comes with standing that the head of those moments, i'm really not trying to go down that disorder road if it can be avoided. maybe this is fueled by hollywood fear - i only know so much about how such a thing manifests in real minds, when plots aren't at risk of being too dull and accurate. but, i mean, regardless, it seems completely unmanageable. contrarily, i feel like i'm actually getting close to being a more functional human being. but i can't help but feel that that's precisely why things are getting weird in the other levels of my consciousness. since i was a child, i've always expressed this with stories. but it's harder to delineate clear, distinct characters, with their own traits and perspectives and challenges, when i'm trying to express something i can feel and am being negatively effected by but can't perceive distinctly. i'm carrying around some petty child that i don't understand, says some part of me, refusing to accept that that petty child is also me? i just can't quite figure out what's happening in my head...and it's slowing me down. it's been slowing me down my entire life and i'm so fuckin tired of it. i'm ready to be in motion. i think..i hope. i don't want to spend so much time emotionally exhausted by the shape of existence.

waves of functionality contrasted by low days of inertia. there's gotta be some way to balance and straighten this out into a steady daily output of what my life needs to move forward. this world wasn't built for people like me but i'm smart. smart enough to overcome these petty features. why the hell can't i solidly figure the rest of this out?

i've been thinking a lot about karma lately. about suffering and what that means you deserve spiritually and whether i can believe in it in any way other than conditionally anymore. it used to comfort me but i've just seen such good people die in pain, unnecessarily, suddenly, while the vile thrive at unprecedented levels. and yes, one thing leads to another, all things are deeply interconnected, so naturally, you can't touch anything without it moving forward to touch many other things - that conditional side of karma is an undeniable universal truth for me, but...i'm fairly scientific about my spiritualism. and i can't believe in something i've seen proven false...even as i know that this is just one little slice of existence and that, like a rodent born in a cage might not understand the sky, maybe it's just a much bigger thing than any of us could empirically see. and maybe we're all paying for things we've done in other lives. but also, maybe this is just a much more lawless existence than i longed for in my early, mournful attempts to understand the world.

and regardless of truth, can i pick up an emptier set of beliefs and benefit from it? such as rerouting very old sorrows and escalating anxieties by letting go of perceiving death in the very negative and detrimental way that it struck me when i was a small child...with a little mush brain that can really only perceive things selfishly, through a predeveloped ego.

i'm tired of being haunted by that kid. if that's even what's happening...'cause to be honest, though the discord may have started then, this feels like a more alive and immediate issue. maybe the answer's in the squirtbottle of acid in the freezer.

and maybe it's not, you prophetic weirdo.

9:06 p.m. - 2018-07-13

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woof

i'm about as social as a feral cat these days. inevitably seem to end up scratching those around me when dragged out of the woods. i despise this after-the-fact regret, though, really, because the truth of things is that i'm simply being myself in a social world that infuriates me. i would like to be more at ease with my own brand of brutality. because it's simply who i am. it's an inextricable part of me right now and ultimately, i'd so much rather growl and hiss than quietly continue to allow anyone in my company to strut along, secure and comfy in the various shades of condescension or derision that raise my hackles. how's this feral cat metaphor working for you, you hideous abomination of a website? lmfao...seriously, though, give me back the gentle lilac that i grew up with, goddamnit...

weird to think how long ago i found this place. weird to think of the fiction i wrote here. character journals. maybe it's time for a new one, they said, fairly certain they'd be too lazy to bother...as more and more any time i open my mouth or lend my thoughts to written words, i feel like i'm just screaming into a tsunami wave of unmitigated bullshit.

it's foolish and selfish, though, i know...i'm learning...to think that you have no effect.

they can hear you. and no one's really as solid as they pretend to be.

3:12 p.m. - 2018-03-30

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my creation, i know thee not...

DEAR GOD THIS IS HIDEOUS

remembering a stream of usernames / passwords was a minor feat of memory in a truly cannabinoid-rattled brain. i'm impressed with myself,

but DEAR GOD -

diaryland, you poor bastard...this color is reminiscent of the nurseries in my nightmares. i can't even look at you.

i need to find some new vessle to pour my my weird thoughts into.

3:00 p.m. - 2018-03-17

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good luck

i am a very segmented, mixed up person. more like a houseful of discordant weirdos than a person a lot of days.

i don't know why my brain does so much of what it does. we pick up such weird rocks from the martian beaches of other people's existences, no matter the jaggedness. perpetually trying to process this in-built screen madness.

[there was more to this...more substance and weird flowy prose but, fuck, it seems so personal and exposing...and i've gotten out of this habit. my madness is my own these days and that almost seems like a shame but i'm just starting to wake back up, i feel, and...i don't fuckin know. i don't know how honest to be. it's all uncomfortable to me now.]

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