the crowd moves predictably,
but the individuals are random.
each one on their own mission
to irritate me in new ways.
words flow from my mind to the pake instinctively
the pen lacks a brain to doubt the words it writes
and so, i am left with lyrical doodles
half-thoughts which have bubbled up directly from the bottom of my mind's stew
the trees tap on my window
from time to time
their finger stretch out
toward the moon and stars
they sway and tangle into shadow puppets just for me
lulling me to sleep
these gloves are suffocating
i can feel every single pore on my hands perspirating
i try hard not to think about taking them off
im gonna take a match and light them up instead
the tiled floor shines in places that people do not walk
an industrialized mockery of a worn grass path
however, it is not without beauty
writing poems is so gay
what a gay ass hobby
LMAO
theres something really beautiful about how
at night, the tree branches outside my window blow and shake around.
theyre dancing tonight and they will dance tomorrow,
and they have been dancing even when i wasnt looking,
every night,
waiting until i noticed.
its comforting that they will continue on their own.
so i was walking
along a wooden board road
it was scorching hot
the air felt like sweat
all of a sudden, a nice cool wind
it started raining
it got dark
i slept, i woke
and the road was washed away.
i tried to follow where the road was
but eventually nothing looked right
i thought "maybe i should make my own path
but that's not very sensible
so now im waiting for the road to be repaired
I wrote the above poem when remembering what an old lady told me about my local area. What is now a paved street-road used to be a wooden highway from the nearest city to "the west." she told me stories about how when it rained, sometimes the wooden boards would be washed away and people would have to put them back in place. i thought it was neat, and used it as an element for a poem that i could resonate with.
I'm pretty convinced I'll never be happy. This is fine, by the way! Happiness is overrated. I've learned that I'm pretty much going to have to live with depression beside me for the rest of my life, and that's fine. I've gotten used to it, and learned how to cope with it for the most part. The 2 best things I can do to stave it off are meet new people and go to the gym. My friends are quite literally the only reason I can get out of bed most days, and it always surprises me when I remember that I didn't know any of them even 5 years ago. I have a hard time connecting with people but when I do it feels like I've always known them and I always will. It hurts being separated from my friends. I need to meet new people if I want to not go vegetative. Without people I care about in my life whom I can talk to, I start losing my drive to do basic things like eat, brush my teeth, shower, sleep. It's kind of humiliating. Oh well. 4/27/25
A couple days ago, an SUV barreled through an intersection right outside my home, apparently going over 100 mph and blowing past a red light. It scraped a car and then smashed into a porsche and drove into a business on the corner. I walked over to my dentist's office near minutes after it happened, and saw the cops, paramedics, and firefighters pull a lifeless corpse out of the porsche, which had been hit so hard that it looked to be half its original volume. I stopped and stared for about 30 seconds and then went along with my day. The accident did stick in my mind though. I have a problem of motivation. When I woke up that day, I wasn't going to work, so my only goals for the day were to go to the dentist and ask them about why they kept sending me bills I had already paid, and to go get some more toothpaste. I got ready to leave and then paced around my room, watched youtube, listened to music, etc. for a whole 5 hours before leaving, but what if I had left a couple minutes earlier? Noise cancelling headphones on, walking through that intersection, that car would have pulverized me. I have long ago removed any question of suicide from my mind. It's not an urge for me. Self harm isn't either. However, I had to immediately confront that I have been, and probably will always be, passively suicidal. I wouldn't mind if that SUV hit me. Oh well, life goes on. For everyone else, that is. 4/26/25
i keep having even grosser delusions than usual. i have fantasies of meeting her again irl and hugging her, telling her "im glad that you're still alive." gross. its such a masturbatory fantasy. i feel disgusted with myself.
in other news, i can feel depression crawling back into my life! every weekend i do nothing and every weekend i regret doing nothing. i havent seen my friends as often as id like, and im ruminating mroe often than id like. it doesnt help that ive been having medical issues these past 3 months. oh well. at least i have a car of my own now so if i get sick of everything i can just drive away. im too cowardly for that though, lol. gosh, im really being very cringe right now, arent i? self-loathing and whatnot. oh well. 4/15/25
i made a mistake. im pretty sure shes trapped herself inside her room and its partially my fault. her hearts exhausted. shes depressed. it happens. but i know how helpful a feeling love can be when dealing with depression. because of my position as "just a friend," its a lot easier for her to push me away. i could give her more support if we were dating, im almost positive. oh well. this is just a lesson not to do things in half-measures, i guess. i just hope she stays alive. 3/30/25
success!! the girl i was talking with finally let me know she just wants to be friends. i have a gut feeling its about my politics, which is fine. i have a lot of anger in my heart and i pretty much exclusively allocate that anger towards class war in history, because being angry at people around me is far more harmful. ive been feeling generally anxious lately, and im kinda disgusted at myself that i used political rants with the girl i like to basically unload my anxiety onto her. i was saying some pretty crazy shit too. i could tell she was uncomfortable and yet continued. i may be a bad person. im pretty sure i just sabotaged a potential loving relationship with a girl who may have benefitted from it because i was scared. oh well. we're friends now. 3/11/25
ive met someone and unfortunately fallen in love pretty much immediately. i dont know why and its driving me up a wall because every part of my brain that knows people knows that loving this person will hurt me. shes gone through so much pain at such a young age that it makes me want to cry. i feel pathetic too, because im pretty sure all that was needed for me to fall in love was some overlap in hobbies and physical attraction. all i can think about is being with her. ive even started having my romantic fantasies again: what if i could show her my home country? what if i could introduce her to all my friends and we could go have a bonfire together? what if i took all my savings out right now and bought a condo and we moved in together and could just... live? i get these delusions with pretty much everyone i love. i have so many close friends whom i dream about being roommates with and living every day together, even just for a couple months.
ive started fantasizing about the darker stuff too. what if we did live together and we got in an argument, and i said something that hurt her? what if we didnt have enough money to pay for our living situation and had to move out together, homeless? what if (god forbid) i hit her? how would i live with the guilt? my mind kinda tortures me with this stuff, and its fine. its like practice trauma lol. although it does mean that i feel like ive lived far more years than my age says.
the worst part about all of this is that i know my love is unconditional now. she could push me away or hurt me or whatever and i would still love her. i know because i still love everyone who ive cut out of my life. in august i wrote about being anxious because of [name redacted] showing up on my instagram feed, but im realizing now that the real reason i was so anxious is because in the back of my mind i know that talking to them again would make me happy. i cut that person out of my life as a self-defense mechanism. if they stayed around and i continued to harbor such a chaotic and irresponsible love for someone who hurt me, it would lead to my abuse. i know not to talk to them, i know not to rekindle any sort of connection, but in the back of my mind i know for a FACT that i would be happy to do so. this is my brain taking control of my heart. i gave [name redacted] unconditional love and they chose to abuse my feelings, so now i am so scared of the fact that i love this new person. i can continue loving her in a platonic way, but theres a huge part of me that wants to just give her the world, and comfort her in the way only someone romantically involved can. its the same dilemma of mind and heart again: if i date her, i give her control over me and my feelings. if i dont, i cant give her my love. i think ill leave the decision to her. im sure the longer we talk about stuff i can give her the ick about SOMETHING. lol. i feel kinda pathetic. 3/5/25
im writing this right now to calm my heart a little because it is racing fast. about halfway through my shift today i opened up instagram just to shitpost and in my recommended follows i saw [name removed]. they have a professional account now for their art but they use their face for their profile pic. i was terrified. i dont know why. i cant think straight. obviously [name removed] didnt die, but i never thought i would see them again in any meaningful way. i still have like 3 photos with them in it but seeing a new one, seeing that they are still a presence that can come back into my life scares me. its so so so scary and i have no idea why. its so unlikely to ever happen and its not like if we met again that i would have to associate with them either, im pretty sure they are still in new york. but its SCARY. 2 of my friends from freshman year whom i consider close enough to potentially reconnect with are mutuals with [name removed]. its so so scary i dont
i feel like i want to cry but i dont know why. and i dont know what is scausing me so much FEAR its just aaggh why why why
im so scared to think if we did meet again what if they have a grudge against me and try to spread rumors about our prior relationship? what if i see them and we legit start TALKING again????? i have thjis kind of dog-like loyalty to peopole who i know and it just doesnt go away, what if i end up trying to act friendly when i dont want to? i dont want to ever see them againbut what if we do see each other again and act NORMAL? thats almost the scairest part. i would hate that. i would prefer if they spread rumors about me and hold a grudge, or freeze up and refuse to acknowledge me than to possibly TALK because i know we have chemistry and talking to them was so so fun but its just so wrong. 8/2/24
I am currently sitting in my room as I reflect on what happened a couple nights ago. You see, I am supposed to be studying computer science in college right now, but all I am realizing is my severe mental illness that I have kept under wraps for so long that it's painful. I've never been one to really feel many emotions, I've had to actively get myself to act out what other people describe as emotions. Or rather, I can't feel any of the good emotions people feel. I can laugh, and I can feel validated by making others laugh, but I can't remember feeling love for someone. I always thought that love songs and things of the sort were exaggerations on how people felt. I've never had a crush on someone before, and the one time in my life that I did fall in love, I'm questioning. I'm almost positive that I had not fallen in love, but rather fallen in lust.
It's in this sense that I can now understand what was so terrible about my first (and only) relationship, but it begs an even bigger question: what should I do? A year ago around this time I wrote out the alphabet in a notebook, along with short sentences to show off my handwriting, and I found the act of handwriting to be incredibly satisfying and my penmanship to be just as. Since then, I have started to write out the alphabet everywhere. On margins, in classes, at home, etc. And since I've been studying japanese, I also do it with hiragana to see if I still remember it all. I'm realizing now that this is probably a way to use my tactile senses to distract myself, the same way that I use youtube to distract my eyes and ears. It's automatic, I don't have to think about writing the alphabet I've used my whole life and yet it requires me to focus on how I want to swoop my q's and curl the bottoms of my f's. It's truly fun. My brain is turning to mush as I write this. I can't remember why I started typing all of this out.
Ok I just read the first line again I remember.
A couple nights ago, I missed yet another critical assignment in my CS class, and had basically solidified my F in that class. I recognized that nothing is getting better and I got so angry at myself that I went into something of a manic state. I don't know if this is what being manic is, but I suddenly became super decisive, creative, and unhinged. I liked myself for a while, as well. I started drawing and writing phrases, whatever could come to my head, really, on paper after paper.
I came to the conclusion that I already knew and believed, which was that it's never going to get better and that the rational decision in my situation, a life where I cannot feel love but can feel pains much greater than heartbreak, is to kill myself. But I live by principle first and desire second, and in doing so prolonged my suffering, while realizing that I have nothing to live for but my decision to stay alive. It felt freeing, in a weird way. I recognized that nobody was home, I could be as loud as I wanted and water the garden and write whatever I want on these silly papers and tape them to the wall. I could line my room with my concerning art and nobody would come in and stop me, or ask me what it's about, or make me feel shameful. Nobody would judge my embarassing outburst, they wouldn't claim that it's "out of character" while not knowing that I play a character all day long, they wouldn't be here to tell me to stop being dramatic. I wouldn't be silenced by the expectation of rejection if there was nobody here to reject me. Even though I myself was cringing at my own actions as I took them, I felt free in my judgment as much as my creation. 4/18/23
I'm sorry for writing this letter to you and still being too pathetic to send it but I need some way to get these feelings out of my system and stop my heart from wavering whenever I think about picking up my bass.
The truth is, after quarantine, which I spent entirely with my now-ex-girlfriend, I was feeling really lonely. It was after a couple months of sulking and the school year starting up that I finally decided, on a whim, to FINALLY get the bass I had been thinking about getting for 4 years at that point. (I have a problem with putting off what I want so I know whether I TRULY want it or not) Because I wanted to give myself no excuse for not getting it, I asked you to come help me pick one out. To be honest, I was really nervous to reach out to you though. After all, we hadn't talked since we stopped being classmates, which was almost 2 years ago at that point. I felt like such a fake because i was trying to dive into this world I knew nothing about as if I could somehow waltz in and conquer it. I knew I wasn't motivated enough to pay for bass lessons, and I had no idea how to even START learning the instrument, so I was really at a loss and felt way out of my depth. Comparing myself to you, who had been surrounded by music and instruments for seemingly all your life, I felt like I looked really shallow and that I needed a better reason for playing. I felt like when I compared my level of commitment to yours that I would be laughable. Reaching out to talk to the only person I know involved in any kind of music to help me out felt like I would be seens as using you; I fel tlike I should figure SOMETHING out myself or at least become better friends with you first before I should have asked. We weren't close to each other, I had no connection to bass, and I had barely listened to much music at all at thta point.
Simply put, I felt like a fake.
I was really glad when, after reaching out to despite everything in my body telling me not to, that you responded not only kindly, but offered to go with me to the store and pick out a bass. It felt unreal to me. I was hoping now, that after I had met such a kind person who was so easy to talk to, that I could become closer if I learned how to play. I never acknowledged this feeling, but it was always there and it is real. When you invited me into the band, I knew it was because I was conveniently available, but I didn't want to let the opportunity run away from me for me to have a real reason for playing the bass. It's not like I had any songs I wanted to play, and I didn't even consider that after picking up the bass I could be in a band, I just got it because it sounds nice (and partically cos it looks cool). I figured being in the band would give me a reason to practice that I couldn't run away from: I didn't want to dissappoint you guys. I couldn't care less about the croud, I wanted approval from the people around me who played batter than me. I wanted not to be "the guy who plays bass with []" but "the bassist in []." And after the first show went decently, I thought I could be that. I got so much support and it felt great, but after that i once again could not get myself to pick up my bass. I would only be able to pick it up when we had a show coming up. I didn't actively try to search out materials for studying my instrument, I didn't even listen to any new music that I might want to play, I just stayed stagnant. I joined the band so I would be forced to play and get better at bass, but all I actually did was make [] worse by not learning how to play bass. This gap in skill between me and seemingly everyone else around me made me feel even more like an outsider, no matter how much everyone was inviting, kind, heplful, and supportive. I felt like at the end of the day, everyone's support was making me feel worse because I knew I wouldn't do anything to fix my situation. I would not get better. People WOULD notice. They WOULD realize. They WILL talk about me behind my back as "that guy who picked up bass and never got even a little bit good." Eventually, they would stop playing nice and just ignore me. It wasn't that I didn't appreciate their support, it was that I felt the support you and so many others gave me was misplaced, and that I WOULD let everyone down, no matter what. Fast forward one year, and now we're in college, and you all are playing shows a LOT, so many fun pictures on instagram, all of them without me. It's not like i didn't see it coming; I gave permission for you to get a replacement bassist down in U of I, but I think that was a decision I made out of cowardice. The truth is, I want to be part of the band and I want to be close to all of you as actual friends, but I felt so insecure in my skill and my capability to learn that I took the easy way out and, by not assering myself, allowed myself to slowly fade out of the band without appearing as if I had quit. 1/16/23
I'm concerned that i truly cannot feel positive emotions anymore. I feign happiness when others around me are happy, but truly the only thing that can make me happy is distracting myself. My internet addiction does not stem from any sort of desire to engage with media, but rather from a desire for media to shut myself off. When I think of suicide, the only thing that I can think of to stop me from committing such a crime is the image of my mother cleaning my blasted brains out of the shower, or my parents finding my hanging body and being so horrified that they can't tell what is happening.
I realize that these images pain me, and they stop me from acting rash. However, I have never been convinced that anything will get better. Never have I used happiness to dissuade myself from ending my own life. It begs the question of if I really think things will ever get better. I think I've come to thie conclusion that it will always be the same. I gain no joy from anything I do. Even the simple act of gardening is a distraction from my thoughts. I wear my headphones and I blast my music so that my head cannot be filled with anything but. It will go louder and louder until my ears run deaf. I will write and write and yet nobody will see any of it, because to admit this horrible reality is embarassing. There is no "cheering up" someone like me. I am simply broken. I can only cry and yell sincerely, I will never feel rewarded. I boldly claim that moving out can solve this issue, that I feel my disease is dependence, however I'm not even sure I believe it. I pity myself. And I'm embarrassed that I pity myself. And I try not to wallow but every time I prove myself incompetent it all spirals downward again. I am broken. I have operated under the assumption that I could be fixed for so long that I hadn't realized that I cannot. And yet I refuse to bend my principles even once and harm another person. And harm my "self" whom I feel so farm away from. Even my memories of being happy are near inaccessible from here. I can feel my head attacking itself. The pain I crave is physical; the kind of scars I can be proud of for they show my struggle, however I refuse to self harm. To bend my pacifist principles is to bow to the absurdity of my pain. I want to be remembered as a betterer. That's all. 4/17/23
Over the last couple years, I have found that my time spent on social media, and on youtube, has become increasingly less important. I have so many more demanding, challenging, and rewarding things to do other than go down a rabbit hole every night on reddit, twitter, or youtube, yet im still attracted to it. Im mostly making this video for myself, but id like to see if anyone else feels the same.
be blunt, consuming media just isnt worth my time anymore. I rarely play single player games anymore despite them being easily favored over multiplayer in my opinion, and when I do play games that aren't either cooperative or competitive, it cannot be something to demanding from my attenntion, like the RPG's I've stocked up on over the years, or a complex puzzle game, because usually I play games while talking with friends on facetime or discord. I view it as unfortunate that I cant just... play games anymore because I feel I'm wasting my time if I dont spend it with friends. Because of that, my number one fallback has always been watching youtube videos about the things i like, or listening to podcasts. The problem with me is that I have too much of an investment into youtube.
I was able to delete twitter when I was following over 4000 people on it, because it got slightly annoying, and was able to delete reddit the instant I got fed up with the constant circlejerking. However, youtube has been a constant. Ill occasionally go on reddit for help troubleshooting something, Ill occasionally go on twitter to enter a rabbit hole of stupidity and hilarity, but youtube has been my number 1 influence. I think I speak for a whole generation when I say youtube is close to me. Lately, however, Ive been wondering...
Has that closeness become an obsession? Addiction?
The truth is, I pride myself on my knowledge of the internet and youtube. I like being this person who knows everything about everything, the one who finds 12 second videos with only 62 views on his recommended and puts it in his playlist for safekeeping. I like being able to tell immediately how much I like or dislike a content creator, and whether I value them enough to keep watching and supporting them. I like finding some garbage on my home screen and immediately hitting that "Not Interested,", or even more carthartic when I'm annoyed by someone, "Don't Recommend Channel."
I like just searching cryptic shit and seeing where it takes me, though its not as fun as it used to be.
People often say "Oh im on the dark side of youtube," but I dont think they truly know what it is most of the time. Does that make me elitist? Idk, maybe, but I dont think less of anyone like that. Realistically, they're better off than me, whos an addict to being the most virgin non-virgin alive. I acknowledge that they are probably doing more than me, spending their time in a more productive way, which is what I should be doing, but Im simply hooked on this feeling of being... Cultured. In the internet. I feel like theres a barrier between those who dont get it and dont care to, those who dont get it and want to, those who think they get it, and those who actually get it. It feels egotistical to put me up at the top of this strange, arbitrary, unimportant hierarchy that I created for myself, but I wanted to put it into words.
Its probably a bad thing. Its definitely a bad thing. But I wanted to put this video out to vent, because I know that there are people who feel the same way I do. Im pretty sure of ir.
So how can I swallow my pride and abandon consuming youtube content? I dont know. Ive known channels like Alpharad since around 23k subscribers, and have watched every video on his channel since. I knew Scott the Woz since around 9k subs, and watching him grow has been amazing too. Im one of the few who can say that Ive watched every single video on his channel. What can I say? Im a dedicated viewer. But I dont think thats a good thing. I dont think being proud of someone elses work, being proud that Im one of millions of voices cheering them on, is something I care about as much as I do the dream of creating that content myself.
I want to say Im done with the grind of finding the highest quality content on youtube, but I really just cant. I love the platform, but more importantly, Im addicted to it. It would be too painful for me to just leave it all behind as if it never happened, as I get ready for the next stage of my life. I love this platform so much it hurts, and even when Im outraged at how it functions, even when the creators turn on each other and make drama more popular than content, even when I when my favorite creators leave the platform entirely, I just cant leave the site behind. It hurts. It hurts far too much. I know I should forget, but it hurts. I hope some random internet person can empathize with me, another random internet person, because it really is how I feel. Is it dangerous to put real emotions on a public platform, where people will mock you endlessly? Yes, but Im prepared for it. 10/5/20
Here's how you can make bold and italic text.
Here's how to make a list:
To learn more HTML/CSS, check out these tutorials!