220222 TWO'S DAY

good evening neocities (10:41 am)..... uhm what can i say. it's February Twenty Second, which is insane, which feels like some sort of turning point after which nothing else interesting or mystical will ever happen, which is completely stupid because palindromic dates have no bearing on anything except having a cool little fact to say for like 24 hours (other than the huge number of people who are apparently getting married today?), but I'm still reeling from the loss of 2020 and all of the funny eyesight jokes therein + really enjoyed those 20/09/2009 type dates as a kid. so i guess i'm allowed to feel weird and bad about it.

AND feeling weird and bad is something i've been really getting into lately! intentions aside i have been neglecting practically everything since classes have started up - including classes themselves for like the past week. i've redacted a pretty negative statement since i guess being completely exhausted every waking moment *is* a valid reason not to do anything. it's midterms season and i have two consecutive exams the day after my birthday and whoever thought that was a cool idea should be launched into interplanetary space. Whatever. I'm not fucked up about it. Yes I'm still working retail on top of all of this and it blows. I'm not fucked up about it though (lying).

and what else? regarding Normal guy interests i've been getting really into disco elysium and i feel like it's fixing *something* in my brain but i hesitate to trust it because its like, the singular external stimulus that is making me ignore my fucking mountain of obligations. but it's also making me feel like i'm not singularly a fuckup who is bad at things and also highlighting that man, i do treat every human interaction like i'm about to have my head bitten off, i'm not sure the devs wanted Free Therapy to be a takeaway but um, your darling boy really cannot deal with trying to organize yet another external obligation at the moment especially when therapists have historically been useless to me. should i be talking about my brain hole in a semi-public venue? it doesnt make me feel worse necessarily but not exactly better, i guess it's better than talking uselessly about things at my friends *again*. and do i really give a fuck about anything other than catharsis anymore? i do love some delicious catharsis. i have better takeaways from this game than this though. and it is enriching my life. and kim kitsuragi IS my best friend. (there is a framed portrait of him on my desktop.) well let's not become Abnormal, now. my time on writing this blog entry is limited, my friends, as is my ability to shamelessly type as though nobody will ever read this (but i don't care if you have read this. welcome to my skull! we're parasocial best friends now. do not worry for me. i am simply a guy who can not process thoughts within their own brain and i've inexplicably chosen the medium of my public-facing personal hand-coded archive to deal with this fact today. you could fly abroad and charm my old psych into breaking confidentiality about it or just close the tab.)

"ach, nein! cringen!"

god okay. redirecting. i managed to wrangle the provincial government into giving me Money with which to buy a fully functional Laptop which i immediately nuked and installed Linux Mint on and i'm literally having so much fun putting it all together. i'm not exactly a coding prodigy (look at the html of any of my web pages for a real fright) so i was worried from past experience that the linux flow would be way too arcane for my weary soul but it's DEFINITELY possible to avoid dealing with that in any significant capacity nowadays. which is cool, since i do like to tinker under the hood a little, and it still lets me DO that but i'm not forced to learn entirely new systems. also my cursor is a dracula stake and my window tops are in like, pixel medieval font, so i'm objectively fucking thriving. i hope to be able to direct more of this energy *here* pretty soon, after i like, you know, have some of my life and sanity back, it's sincerely so fun

well how do we micdrop this nightmare of a text dump. i guess we are in the Era of misery for the forseeable Week and a Half so uhm. white knuckle grip on the fucking wheel, baby. all i can do at this point is um. put a regular amount of effort in and not feel bad about not grinding myself to a meaty paste and try not to drive this fucking car into a brick wall. usually pretty good at that if i can take off my stupid red tinted glasses (literal)