Being mentally ill x not having activities to engage in does not spell instant death, but it is for sure not a good thing.

You tend to regress into that evil baseline, that level of stable corruption in your mind that you are used to that does not serve, that destroys you and eats you from the inside out, over and over and over, until you just can’t take it anymore…

I don’t know what happens then.

I guess I do end up meddling from one thing to the next. The pain never ceases to grow, it seems, though. I don’t quite understand it.

Schizoaffective depressive.


Neither in extreme, though both in milder moderation.

Interesting, isn’t it? Don’t feel guilty if you find it curious or are curious about it. Curiosity about what ails us is just what we need to solve our most horrific problems. I don’t claim the honor of being a member of that title though. Global warming has got to be #1 as of now.

Earth, well, let’s just say, it would be epically awesome to see full human resources, on a global effort, redirected toward solving global warming in its tracks, heroically, like a team, as a species. It would be “Audacity of Huge” as one of the most interesting songs I’ve ever heard goes.

Dad’s home means he feels like meddling. Good for him. No stopping him. He’s tough.

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