january 2nd, 2022

i feel i've basically met five human beings total across my whole life, & only two didn't have a lingering intimacy
& romantic tension & gravity, & i only got to see those two for a few days... & i'm sincerely truly grateful
for all five but oh oh oh oh oh oh oh a simple friend to giggle with please please please please

- at this point, something happens to Neocities which causes any change i make to a page to display immediately for others, but with a
delay of about twenty-five minutes for me. this breaks my established workflow & forces me to abandoned the "centered paragaphs" formatting -

march 10th, 2022

actual affection can never be the want of affection that i am accustomed to defining myself by, to myself... which is either a meaningful or meaningless observation, depending on how prone actual affection is to develop into its own distinct avenue of comfort

things like kissing are supposed to be special because you do them with someone & maybe not anyone else. but can they be special if i don't do anything else with anyone else either? then it is only in league with all other actions, unable to stand out

i feel grounded by few values, largely unmoored & adrift, observing impartially. i am rarely confident that i really truly care about or derive joy from this or that thing, although that may just be because i am very alone, so i may be very capable of finding joy but lack many joys to cite as evidence of it

but then, it's hard to seek out opportunities for joy that i can feel a sort of confidence & comfort in because i am convinced that so much of the world is basically performing the role of a world, e.g. "postmodern" paranoia that every local musician appears for all intents & purposes to just be a musician playing music but is actually a product of the unconscious cultural separation of music into some exoticized region of life carried out by "musicians" which is made into a discrete role that they want to append to the primary "normal" part of life, perverting it from its beautifully mundane reality as just a human activity or something along those lines i don't know

i generally don't trust anyone to actually be engaging with anything, just relentless defensive skepticism, i feel like a cat that still refuses to come out from under a bed four months after arriving in the house. the anxious sense that in my lifetime i've witnessed a transition from e.g. instagram as expression of the people "irl" to the people "irl" as expressions of instagram

none of this is counterbalanced by like talking to people. there's no smugness to any of it, certainly i still feel very unwelcome & tenuously accepted when trying to approach anyone, or if i do feel welcomed i can just neurotically reroute it into these same systems of skepticism & potentially feel patronized by it

march 20th, 2022

the way my face-to-face social life is structured feels insane, like i've never had any consistent in-person friends so it's just this void punctuated by singular infrequent occasions of meeting up with people, which always feels sort of enlightening & intense & completely different from the usual, like spending time in another world. these are the epochs that my time is counted out with, irregular spikes of activity rising from the flatline

- Neocities seems to go back to normal -

march 26th, 2022

i want to confidently care about people. i want to viscerally care about people. i want to smile or tear up at lots of things people
do, i want to feel more invested in things people say & do. i don't want to feel detached. my entire lifetime thus far feels like
nothing at all in the way of a primer for viscerally caring about anyone. i want to care but it is not in my power, i don't
have a choice. i can put in effort, i can show care through my actions, but i can't acquire an essential "spark" of care

i want to care, not spend time ruminating over whether i really care at all about anyone in any capacity. i don't want
to go through spells of feeling that i don't really like or dislike anyone, that i am just here, & so are they,
& i can talk to them. i don't want to wonder if talking is essentially a prolonged habit for me

i don't want to wonder if i should feel deceptive in letting anyone become close to me when i'll inevitably start
to wonder again if someday i'll have to decide i really don't care about anyone, & have to tell them that. all this
time spent wondering that should instead be spent buzzing inside at sentimental acts & others' displays of care

it seems contradictory that i can intensely doubt my care for anyone, yet still value & desire the condition of caring
about people. it seems like a condition you only value if you have that condition in the first place. if you don't
care about something, there's no reason to care about or want it. so i think i must care about people, but
i want to feel viscerally instead of feeling persistently deeply uncontrollably detached

i think i worry about my empathy a lot. i am supposed to like giving a person a comforting hug because i can think back to times
when people hugged me, &, by recalling the goodness of that experience, i can relate to the good experience i am imparting to
the person i am hugging. but i don't know if i can recall ever feeling good while a person has hugged me. i only have hugs
i imagine, & which feel good because in my imagination i have the power to define them as hugs that feel good

i can't recall having ever had anyone in my life with whom, if they abruptly cut all ties with me, my reaction would
not predominantly be to just acclimate to that. i prefer to have people in my life but this fails to manifest as a
real inclination to keep them there. i have no inclination to reach out to anyone, to ask how anyone's day
going. i can't pretend to. never in my life have i ever felt the need to know how a person's day is going

april 6th, 2022

liking people on the basis that their qualities essentially permit me to exist, since by myself i am no one, while being
with them brings myself out of me. their qualities cause inexorable syntheses that change me into me's that i am not
capable of being otherwise - wholly sincere me's in spite of their transience, typically nested inside, wholly
hidden & inaccessible. there are me's that i simply can't be in these posts. to lose a certain person is to
lose a variety of myself, never to be her again - potentially a me who i was very comfortable being

april 9th, 2022

guy i talked to on omegle for one night on may thirty-first 2020 & was estranged from after we both dozed off & i woke up
to find the chat disconnected, & who now periodically returns to my thoughts as seemingly a soul mate who i will never talk
to again nor anyone similar to him, & in any case whether he is or is not actually a soul mate it seems the conviction
that he is will linger indefinitely given a lack of further communication to ever validate it or sully it

70000000 year search for one person who i think really understands the quality of benignity