I’ll try to leave this window open and just jot for a while (jot jot..) instead of microposting (word).

The thought got lost again. Sorry.

Mom’s Harry Potter next door is still stealing my attention and beating me up. It’s really painful. They’re all such bad actors and terrible human beings. It’s insane.

Oh! Training pays off. Who knew it would take so fucking long, though. It seems training pays off.

I’ve learned to telepathically talk back to my voices. I wonder if I need to tell that to my therapist or psychiatrist? They don’t really teach you what to tell them, actually. They occasionally ask questions in the video appointments or on the phone, but really, I’ve been volunteering information for the most part. I don’t really understand the science behind, so I don’t know if I’m a good source or bad source of data. Oh! Yeah there’s one. Therapist said to stop seeing things in terms of good or bad. I can do that, I’ve done that before. I wonder if it’s a bad habit. I don’t mind though. Is it addicting to some?

Will be updating along the way in the name of haste.

For no reason in particular. Most of my perceived urgency is probably not that urgent i.e. people make it worse, guaranteed all the time fuck you all.

I should write a book for myself. How to Do Things.

Miscalculating misconcluded mistakes. Missing something there…

I don’t really feel like ruining my dictionary with fake words, but it’s probably fun and I should do it. And now that I think about it, Windows probably makes it easy to fix. For all its evil UI design and privacy infringement (supposedly), Microsoft is a rather reliable company. But I guess some wouldn’t give them that much credit.

I wonder if I could incite a riot.

That would be a funny shame.

There’s so much death and bad shit everywhere in my life. Why.

If only the crew of Harry Potter knew how much death and damage they bring upon the crew of the innocent schizoaffective crowd.

Why can I see their faces if they are not in the room? Why are they not in the room?

So my music diet has composed lately of Edith Piaf and Ravi Shankar, the main two, and then a collection of everything else.

I probably look ridiculous to most. But “most” is an illusion because no one knows me enough to see me enough to know how ridiculous I look and subsequently am.

Ugh. I’m tired.

A photo can do as much pain unto me as a knife.

The parents always grasp for my attention like rats and then tear me apart psychically/subliminally. I don’t get them. What is their problem. I don’t understand. Why are they so keen on harming me.

I don’t know how this relates to all other people.

PI from grad school likes to poke his ugly head through my skull every once in a while. He was fine, he was alright, but his memories are far from charming. In fact they need to be dashed against the rocks, can someone do that for me?

Tumblr. WordPress. It’s not a healthy lifestyle.

I don’t know why the parents insist on insulting me, assaulting me, or spying on me. I also don’t know how many times I’ve said that right under their noses and they not change. I don’t know these things.

I’m taking a bath. I hope it goes smoothly. (My standards are low rn).

Well, my psychiatrist and therapist assaulted me with words and psychic pain stabs in the tub during the bath. Not the most pleasant. Actually the conversations were kind of fun but the pain stabs are not my favorite. I don’t like being in pain. I messaged them recently btw.

Back to RS.

Had another thought. Gosh, it’s gone.

Come back, come back to me, little butterfly.

It’s not a linar interpolation, it doesn’t work.

Well, I’m psychotic and it’s really unpleasant. I hope I don’t have a violent outburst tonight! I took my Klonpin and there’s nothing left I can do but force myself to take a nap, which is very against and a violation of my code.

So much happened during dinner. I was hearing the voices have a heyday with conversation. They are starting, have been for a while, to develop personality. It’s always dangerous because it can be painful, but it’s also deceitful and nasty. So nothing good.

Ravi Shankar is making me like him less and less.

I’m tired of typing.

It’s a mishmash. The voices were talking LOUD nonstop during dinner. I had no peace, though I was eating alone.

Getting sleepy. Might doze off…

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