Wow now that you mention it this is a pretty serious absence

His bones are earth

His flesh is dust

His breath is wind

Hobbies might have some kind of internal "source" but they also need to be nurtured. You can't love what you don't know, you know? I have a bunch of weird interests now and each of them began with not much more than a sort of mental double-take that served as a starting point. Like the question "what is squid ink made out of anyway?" can be the start of an interest in marine biology.

Depression makes it very hard to catch these little moments since it smothers that little mote of curiosity and pleasure that can be the start of a passion.

Isn't this literally the rhetoric the Nazis used to twist class struggle into nationalism?

Wow okay madame you are just gonna do Akhenaten dirty like that ITS POSSIBLE TO LIKE IT AND NOT BE CRINGE OKAY

Might sound a bit corny to say but if there's nobody else to be open with, you can be open with yourself. Extruding your feelings into words is good for that, do it more.

WITNESS, MEN OF MAIZE, HURACAN WHO IS HEART OF SKY

YOUR BOWLS OF CLAY ARE SHATTERED, THE THATCH IS STOLEN FROM YOUR ROOFS

I sympathize with the disconnect you are expressing between someone who needs to win a 30 year-long military or financial campaign to feel satisfied vs someone who feels satisfaction looking at a cool bug

Human society might be an official Big Deal but I pity those whose thoughts cannot venture beyond it towards the realms of the cosmically huge or microscopically small

: There is a deafening silence here.

: Can the pale achieve a human form? Can it walk and talk and dream its nothing dreams of nowhere?

: It can, the evidence is here. It's beautiful.

: You should run.

So what you're saying is that if the sex is had, it should be as debauched as possible since I'm gonna die anyway

It kind of freaks me out that this is the idealized alter ego that this guy came up with. Talk about an imagination in a cage

I hope it doesn't sound like I'm implying that people shouldn't take meds, that's not how I feel at all. I just can't help but wonder how much of stimulant use (meds of all kinds really) is to help cope with capitalist reality vs to help manage disorders. In a way, it's an arbitrary distinction, since this is the reality we live in, but it just makes the status quo feel all the more opaque to me, like I can't even see what lies beyond.

Capitalism really do be making it hard to be on the right frequency doesn't it

It always feels like this sort of quandary is utterly defined by its existence in a world order that lets people who don't perfectly fit their groove starve. Like I can't even picture what the ideal substance relationship would be without capitalism to define why I would take them. I'm picturing someone with ADHD who, without anything to directly coerce them into doing labor, might just have ADHD and live in a way that is comfortable for them, bouncing between tasks and finding their own groove.

This is not at all to say these drugs are dubious, just that whenever I consider this question I wind up feeling especially asphyxiated by the current status quo.

(If I'm completely off the mark someone tell me, this topic is something I used to grapple with a lot before I personally decided against going on antidepressants in high school, and I sometimes wonder if I made a mistake)

Neither the past or the future is real. What's real is the here and now, because it hasn't been filtered into the minor synaptic structural changes that will reconstitute a silhouette of the now, later, if you happen to recall the Now.

The Now is now gone, goodbye. Welcome to the new now!

And here you are reading this post. This post is real, because it's pressed against your sensory profile, where reality lives. That's right, my post is the whole of reality right now until you move on to the next one. I hope you had a nice visit.

How fortunate we are then to have the one perfect person in our midst! (It's me, I'm the perfect one)

ACKSHUALLY most members of eusocial insect communities don't toil and they just hang around chatting and cleaning each other, not even joking

My sympathies, for I love beanis the ideal amount

It has been months since I watched and yet my enthusiasm for Furiosa does not seem to have eroded

It was so sick, action movie slop with some fucking PROTEIN for a change, I could write an essay about how clever it was and how subtly it went about it

Honestly I think it's worse when it's a language I understand since it makes the sing-talking a lot more frustrating to listen to for me

It sounds kind of paradoxical but being around strangers can help

the times in my life when a random passerby offered me something I needed were very powerful experiences for me