How It Go

I feel like I’m filling into my place in life / my life finally. Getting this job meant the world to me. I’m a contractor, so it’s kind of cool, makes me feel cool. Like I’m an adventurer in life, or something. It’s hard to explain but it’s neat for sure. :)

And I’m sooo glad, the mental illness is more frequent and regular, but much less intense. It comboed, in the past, with negative mood, but not that that’s mostly gone, it’s just delusions and hallucinations, which aren’t all too bad, and I feel like it gets better every day. I mean mathematically it’s nonlinear, but who’s measuring. Argh not the point. the point is life is good. Well maybe that’s overshooting the point a bit.

you know what I mean.
Disregard for ALL grammatical constructs.

Well look at this one.

Anyway, watching some Twitch, not being too paranoid. Good company. Community. Maybe the internet is alright after all.

Culture is strange, how it evolves. We live in such an odd era. There’s a ton of humor to it.

My friend Nick said he’s glad I’m feeling better. I wished him good spirits on his side.

We should hang out tomorrow.

I’ll see how I’m doing and text him about it. See if he’s available in the first place. Maybe find out now?

My secret identity! No!

Read some of my novel.

Want to release my second book soon. But I already said that. But I’m sure you’ll forgive me.

Life’s starting to feel so much better, so much more normal than it used to. Just filled out my time card. for the last week. I don’t think i took any sick time off. Oof who cares. No one cares. Although it’s like, won’t give a homeless guy a buck, but will overpay a worker for no reason out of indifference?

It’s odd.

I wish to make a positive change in the world. This is inherent axiomatically in my psyche, in my soul, I believe. But the more I dig, the more I question myseelf, and I so often find myself having existential crises, what is real? What is real? What is meaningful? And I need some sort of reassurance to snap me back to reality, lest I get lost.

Reality isn’t too potent for me. I need some sensual experiences probably. That, money can buy. And so, I should shop around, but I don’t know what to look for or where to start.

It’s rough. I bought some art online so that actually fits that ticket. I forgot.

Ah. There it is. The key. Art.

Yep.

The sensory experience to fill the self-doubt, the doubt over what is real, over your own motivation to do good in the world.

But maybe it just boils down to a lack of self-confidence.

I coded code progamming code all friday and today for work. Feels good man. Doing work you love feels like cheating. Part of me believes it is. And that horrifies me. This is a part of the self doubt I was mentioning, the fear that kills me.

So it’s art fighting it off. Art fighting off the self doubt that meaningful work is morally correct.

But there are philosophies that there is no “correct” sense of morality. Which is also horrifying, because that means things like murder are okay!

Well. I dont’ know.

Philosophy is scary.

I prefer a brick to the face.

ShhhhhhhhFFFFFFFFFFFFFFWAKE UP!

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