I have, you have, family, relations, immaterial things, resources like air and housing.
But as far as material possessions or additional things go, I’d say my… blog… is all I really have.
It’s the only thing I enjoy going into and writing in, or doing something in. Doing whatever it is you do with a blog.
I don’t like video games, books, TV or movies. Music is not so good to me. Writing poetry always feels so hopeless and useless. If the goal of poetry is to express art or emotion or human perception, whatever you know? then I feel that it is impossible to achieve. Because, there is no audience. Because, why bother trying. It just doesn’t work. It doesn’t go anywhere. It doesn’t get you anywhere.
I marked my psychotic episode last night at 6.5/10 in my medical symptoms and dosage journal. That sounds modest doesn’t it? But I’m leaving room for… when it’s really, really bad.
Saving money. 6 month emergency fund. Bills for six months.
I had 3 eggs for lunch. I need to brush my teeth.
Saw a few scenes of The Tomorrow War dad is watching in the living room. It looks like crap. It makes me uncomfortable and I hate it. It’s about war and human rights violations. I don’t like stories about that. Because no one ever does anything. It’s evil.
I really wish I had more to write about. I guess writer’s block comes easier than I thought.
I should be working on this game in Unity but my brain doesn’t process it. I just sit and stare at it, and I don’t make any progress. I think schizoaffective disorder is real, and I really have it. Someone help me.