april 18th, 2021


when i feel lonely in a certain way, i automatically picture a view of the
southern side of a certain dormitory from a certain point along a certain side of
a certain road near my house, at night. nothing in the view has any particular
significance to me, so i'm not sure why it got linked with that feeling


june 13th, 2021


what i have been waiting years & years for is a face-to-face friend whose personality juxtaposed with
mine has the simple & inexorable effect of cracking me open like a pistachio so that when speaking to
them there is not the slightest chance of me being stilted, affected, managerial of my expression

in the current, actual situation, where i don't have such a friend, it feels sort of demanding
to want. like, i don't want to feel so stifled, but in place of remedying these traits i just
want to know someone around whom they melt off? a panacea of another person

but then, i imagine actually having the friend, & if the situation were real, it'd just... be the situation
that chance had afforded me, self-justifying. it'd be very simple & good. people can actually find
such friends, if they're lucky. it'd just be equal to the kind & helpful friends they really do have as
i type this. & if, having that friend, i were to imagine a me that lacked such a friend & pined
for them, i would imagine the pining me (who is typing this) to be very justified

i feel helpless as to whether chance leaves me with the fantasy, which is to make me feel greedy,
or the reality, which is to make me feel... like the fantasy could never be greedy. it's strange


june 19th, 2021


hesitancy occurs when an intuition is suppressed by the power of the mind. the body knows
what is correct in every cell of its being, but the mind immediately imposes its doubt,
anxiety or opinion, thereby rendering the true perception powerless. in this way,
all true alignment to the power of the now is lost & clarity - which
is pristine & visceral - is repressed in the body

Richard Rudd

this feels like the unfortunate foundation of my whole being. when i was a child i started treating any
involuntary social characteristics on my part as "invasions of my privacy," i tried to be wholly inert
unless i explicitly chose otherwise, chose to transmit... for instance, when we are sad our vocal folds
can restrict, changing our voices accordingly. it's an important eusocial characteristic & the sort of
thing i would have despised. "why should i be forced to divulge to anyone that i am sad," i thought

now every little muscle movement i direct toward anyone feels terrifyingly deliberate, planned,
indictable... in the wake of the resulting lack of socialization, i now fear being underdeveloped
& that my being underdeveloped may manifest awkwardly or hideously, so i now fear
these characteristics less as "invasions of privacy" & more as... a lack of
restraint may expose the awkward or hideous qualities


june 23rd, 2021


personally i kind of see this sucky paradox thing where it seems like ninety nine percent of people are
alienatingly insane, but then the remaining one percent is still a big enough number of people that it's
like, ok, there's still this whole world of non-insane people. but that doesn't end up an unfettered
positive because, despite the awful global proportion of alienatingly insane people, that framing
of there "still being a whole world" sort of undermines anyone's excuse to like, cling to non-
insane people as precious exceptions, the alienation inexplicably survives... that one
percent of people could occupy a tiny island but you'll never have anything like the
unmistakable direction of being shipwrecked there with one other person


june 24th, 2021


it's surprisingly easy to forget that a large part of the reason i don't have any friends where i live
is that some irrational part of me forces me to think that if i glance at, smile at, or approach anyone
they could instantly take it as a signal that i have some kind of psychotic obsession with them lurking
behind my placid exterior. what this also means is that when people choose to be particularly nice to
me it gives me more of an incentive to never acknowledge that they exist because now the irrational
part of me can tell me that they'll think their niceness was what precipitated the psychotic obsession


june 26th, 2021


being lonely doesn't feel like a problem that i can just go out & solve, not under any circumstance. it's
a problem for which i can go out to maximize its chance of organically resolving, but that's about it.
just an existential sense of helplessness vs. blind hope that the endless, directionless, chaotic global
churning of connections will happen to produce whatever it is exactly that is appropriate
for me, & that i will respond to its emergence productively


ambiguous date


i don't really want to be a recluse. but ideally i can cultivate such a staunch optimism
that i can make it not matter. even if it lasts forever. that's what i'm aiming to do.
i am sort of running a gamble. either this is a valid option, where this can be wholly
manageable because i am never truly obligated to be sad, or, the reality turns out to
be that i should realize how much i am missing out on, that i am ultimately supposed
to ask for more, to recognize that i ultimately don't want to be a recluse,
& to think very seriously about how i could address it


july 15th, 2021


meeting & realizing a relationship with my soul mate can feel hopeless when i consider
i shouldve been getting a feel for how to maintain just normal platonic friendships
for at least six years or so now but i haven't been. i think it will randomly happen
tomorrow though, it will simply transcend being wholly unsocialized


august 4th, 2021


to fall into the comfort of someone i'm in a relationship with might feel inappropriate because
i'm treating them like a family member. to fall into the comfort of a family member might feel
inappropriate because i'm treating them like someone i'm in a relationship with. stuck...


august 23rd, 2021


i have to stop imagining affection... it is an attractive escape, but the way it inversely creates the
implied absence of another person in reality, introducing a problem into a room that didn't have one
before... it just sneakily makes me obsessed with loneliness, & i start to have a bad time. it is a bad
habit. i have to reacquaint myself with the simple & neutral qualities of being on my own


august 27th, 2021


waiting waiting waiting scanning crowds waiting for my as-of-yet-unknown future
best friend to walk around every corner i approach straining to filter signals of
synergistic identity out from the noise waiting waiting waiting waiting

all while actually hiding desperately from anyone of the barest interest, so as to by any means negate the
perceived sinister qualities of seeking to approach, encroach, impose, god forbid "possess," this extending
to the barest "possession" that even the most glancing friendship entails, basic conversation perceptually
exaggerated to each sentence being a demand for a reply rather than just a prompt


august 28th, 2021


in addition to straining to filter signals of synergistic identity out from the noise, there is also the activity which
kicks in if & when someone does speak to me, which is straining to detect any signal that their way of engaging with me
is in any way informed by e.g. tv shows, or even if not tv shows, other people who in turn were informed by tv shows,
or other people representing a third link in the chain, & so on. at the slightest hint of this i will just emotionally
shut down & invisibly retract like a turtle. sometimes i wonder if it is too sensitive, if i am not giving people
enough time. it is also based on the questionable assumption that whatever i see invariably originates in tv
shows, rather than originating in the people & then being portrayed or exaggerated in the tv shows so
that they are relatable. like i already said before though, i'm sure there's fuzzy feedback


i imagine violating a social norm in a one-on-one interaction to feel like receiving the disapproval of not just them
but all the millions of people who would vouch for them in that situation... it makes sense to me, people establish
norms by expressing them en masse & then the full weight of all those expressions is supposed to weigh on you
if you threaten to violate one. it's like millions of people are spectrally present, judging. i feel that sharply
when i talk to people, i think. i can't feel alone with anyone, it's like i'm in a dialogue with all of
society. i don't know. it's hard to describe. it makes it feel impossible to have a pure conversation


september 3rd, 2021


a problematic perception that living near people isn't a precedent for interacting with
them, in fact it's a reason not to because if i impose my existence on theirs it's like
i'm doing it "just because" they're nearby, subjecting them to that happenstance


i think what happens is that on occasion i'll have an extraneous experience with a person or some people, actually
freely talking & joking & laughing, & i'll realize how plainly that life is hardly worth living without things like
this, & then i'll go back to several weeks, months, a year, longer, of general solitude, & kind of settle back into a
lifelong default perspective where i have no idea what possibilities i'm missing out on. something where... i guess
i can tell that something is wrong, but at the same time it is kind of painless & only sad from a more "objective"
viewpoint beyond me. of course, the memory of the experience is still there, so i guess the awareness of
what i'm lacking is still accessible. intellectually, as sort of a footnote, lacking particular
feeling behind it. it's not like the feeling would have anywhere to go anyway


september 4th, 2021


the couple i often see at the bar & coffee shop, who gave me a ride home that one night, who i'd
ideally like to try to be friends with, have been inexplicably showing up in my dreams for a while

if i were feeling self-critical i could say "okay, see? all it takes is some strangers talking to me a bit
for them to start showing up in my dreams all the time. this just goes to show that, whether i like
it or not, i'm too isolated to engage with anyone without bringing way too much desperate-friend-
want into the picture like an obsessive creep. which is why i shouldn't talk to them"

or i can shrug & interpret it neutrally. thats possible too


september 7th, 2021


pushing through social anxiety

it feels like i can't even use "i'm gonna die someday anyway, i might as well do all i can to just try to make friends while i'm here" as an
excuse to approach people because how do i know they'll have a perspective like that? they're probably approaching things on a smaller
scale, in more of a "sitcom mode," does that make sense, like they're plugged into interpersonal standards for which no one's days are
numbered, as far as the standards are concerned. like an endless social sandbox, a slice-of-life interpersonal narrative that isn't
concerned with stuff like mortality. no one extends these mortal considerations as they tell their friend about the awkward
interaction they had earlier in the day. so it feels like the standards are in their hands, which feels like power they hold
over me, because if i end up committing some transgression then the scope of the story is like. limited to that day,
which acquired the stain of some weirdo overstepping a boundary or committing some faux pas, at the expense
of someone else's comfort. that's the story i feel like i'd have lived with someone, not me being driven by my
mortality to just face a fear & see what happens. i don't know if this makes sense. [feedback] ok it makes sense

i guess part of it would be to just try my best to be personable but still bite the bullet & set a
threshold above zero for how much of a burden i want to make myself as i figure things out


wondering if other people are more inherently driven than i am to do things like remember others' birthdays, wish them
good luck, express interest in their interests & pursuits, encourage them or express sympathy in times of uncertainty
or hardship, give them gifts, or simply check up on them, ask how their day is going. or if i'm perfectly normal &
everyone is just constantly, virtuously pushing themselves to do these things just so everyone feels seen & the
network between them doesn't decay, not because it feels super great. & i am just neglecting to do that because
i am waiting for a convenient "drive" to pull me along. i hope it's not the former because at that point it just
feels like i have this inherent absence of love & at that point, like, even if i can approach & befriend
someone at the coffee shop, what am i even hoping for past that point, why am i alive. not that
i think i would be suicidal if that were the case but pretty despondent for sure


september 9th, 2021


every time i see the girl whose fashion sense i'd like to compliment it reignites my disappointment in my inability to
interact with people, it's like, becoming bad for me. it also gives me this vague guilt as though the idea of giving
the compliment started out fine & earnest when it was still an impulse, but over time it's less percolated, more
festered such that the compliment would now only be an instrument for me, overcoming my own anxiety, it becomes
about me... i guess i'm also nervous about how such a pointed intent might affect how i would act in an actual interaction


september 14th, 2021


am i going to just type posts about this over & over? it is like it is slowly killing me that i'm incapable of delivering
the compliment. it's like it is metastasizing, becoming symbolic... i am the sort of person to pine only to deliver a simple
comment, feel deeply incapable, become very sad about all the incapabilities it represents, often cope by retreating into
an imaginary scenario with the same non-existent unrealistically idealized romantic partner, as i do to cope with
various things... really, though, i think once i go home i will forget about this again. i think there
will be reoccurring moments of despair that i quickly forget each time


september 16th, 2021


crossing paths again, failing to deliver the lousy looming compliment that has accumulated the state of being a nexus
of something. walking around for a little while, walking off the peculiar agitation that makes me question whether to
frame the situation as a crush (it'd be the first in a pretty long time, i think.) returning to the cafeteria, eating cheese
sticks while i turn & look out the window incessantly without really thinking about it, tenuously anticipating
another chance at simply pushing through the life-ruling shyness, one i might not waste. "eventually,
at least by the end of the semester," i tell myself, it's not a very harsh deadline


something in the ballpark of "i'm incapable of needing anybody because it feels like it carries the
additional implication that i would hypothetically put effort into retaining them, which makes me feel
very imposing. if i were to need anybody it would only be the most avolitional & at-mercy sort of need"

that or am i just not remotely naturalized toward having any
stake in my connections with other people. maybe a bit of both


i do something i love. i share it. maybe no one cares. it hurts. but the only reason i was opened
up to that pain is that i shared it. i shared it because i am not living for myself. if i were
living for myself, doing something i love in isolation would have been enough

the underlying mechanic feels very obvious to me: i feel chronically deprived of & desperate for human contact such that i have
trouble finding joy in solitary activities, because they are never compensated for with unsolitary ones. there is always a drive
to share fragments of my activity, & there is always a channel for it. i can idly draw a picture, lie in bed & look at paintings
i love, or something like that, but it doesn't bring me satisfaction or peace until i've also run them through a process of
distribution, satisfied a pressure that arises in the process of viewing or creating, become secure in knowing i am not
the only one experiencing it. i am not living for myself. "stop & smell the roses," but writing about it after is more
important. i don't think anything should be more important, but that is the situation. i think this is the situation
of lots of people. i think there is lots of profit to be made from it, generate ad revenue from parasocial
garbage enticing to people not admitting to themselves that they are alone in a room, ETC.

& then i write this post, which at the moment i consider an act of bundling up the entire condition & feeding it back into
itself, like resorting to burning furniture for warmth, something desperate under a guise of "self-awareness" & "observation."
i sit pleadingly, but it does not matter whether anyone cares, because each display of care is only a stopgap in the
cruel system, which is only a product of the cognitive flaws which make me so lonely in the first place

it is a very flawed way to live, tethered to this online environment. without it, though, i think i would be at the same level
of loneliness, only i would have never ever been meaningfully shown any compelling aesthetic or temperamental alternatives to
things like nu metal or the Rolling Stones, living in a tiny two-dimensional universe where i am the only point of opposition
to these things, albeit with no vision inside of me to replace them with, & maybe i would have just gone crazy & killed myself.
i wonder if it sounds absurd to have been taken care of by unconfrontational family & wanted to kill myself over music.
well, if it does, i just don't think anyone in circumstances not quite like mine would understand


september 28th, 2021


its funny because i might very seriously need some sort of therapy to reestablish (or just establish) my basic ability
to generally connect with other human beings but also i think there is a chance that i am just occupying a time
& a place & a self that join to make it reasonable that i find so many people really banal & upsetting

maybe both. i imagine the latter like an undeniable background to the former, which
might be true to a very small extent or a very large one or anywhere in between


october 1st, 2021


sometimes i like to really try to imagine myself as the last human being alive. it puts into perspective how
much i psychologically need others, even just the idea that others exist, that even if i'm stuck alone on
a desert island for thirty years someone might still rescue me & i'll finally get to unload the experience,
release, write a novel about it or watch a smile cross a person's face as i recount an anecdote from that
time. but if i'm the only human alive? at that point, it's like... what is my perception? what does my
evaluation of my situation even count for? it's just my synapses firing impersonally. it doesn't matter
where i am or what i see, i'm a spectator to some firing synapses & nothing else. sure, if i had someone
else to relate to, that'd just be their synapses firing too, but that dynamic of synapses is just what i need,
it's what i value above my own, that's just my nature, i'm a machine designed to relate, i know what i want

compare this to feeling "alone in a crowd," compare this to parasociality, compare this to relying on
devices for receipts of having been seen & comprehended, compare this to alienation, compare this to
idiosyncrasy, compare this to autism, compare this to psychosis, compare this to social anxiety,
compare this to cultural rifts, compare this to judgment & resentment, of course


october 7th, 2021


i've felt totally isolated my whole life & i suspect that it's because of some uniform qualitative difference between
me & most other people. the punchline is that i'm sort of incapable of really, honestly considering that possibility
specifically because some completely unidentifiable person, somewhere, at some point in the past decade, composed
a portrayal of a cartoon frog expressing the same sentiment. which, hey, is maybe for the best, maybe my
conscience is trying to tell me that it's a (kind of elitist) delusion that i have to fight against