15-3-25, Saturday

It had been a while since ive written, it feels. The wind blows in my vents, an occasional bird comes by. People downstairs. I hang out with them, but I hate them more and more. Its a front, always just to get something. I need her to buy me more food. Sometimes I do it to force her to acknowledge that I am a capable human being. That i'm smart and i'm tough. I think I just make her think im weird.

From my chest I feel the plead to be understood. Instead I am letting control creep in closer.

I feel her insulting my shoes, my hair, my hat. Her trying to change my political views. Her guilting me for the smallest things. Most of all, she will think I owe her. And I hate it. I do not owe her a single penny. She needs to fucking feed me.

A bit ago my father got tested for gut cancer. Not sure what he got, they didnt let me know. A part of me longs for tragedy. For a change. He is an alright dude though, so I dont really wish it for him. But.. just saying. They'll start getting a lot of stuff as they age, anyway. Who knows, maybe they can start now.

My mother waits, sitting in the US, waits for her father to gasp his final breath and decompose so she can claim the apartment. She mentions her childhood life a lot. I feel similarly to her. I will carve them out of my life like a skillful, smooth slice of apple. I hate them. They do not act okay. They do not treat me the way I need. They do not serve me and I do not care for them, so, goodbye, au revoir, and i hope you shit your pants.

After I came home, I let myself dissolve into empty dopamine-heavy activities. I indulged in texting about emojis, watched a thirty minute rant about weed addiction, and with much uncertainty and unwillingness I wonked my willy to a comic. this one actually had a good story and plot, and I didnt feel empty. It actively engaged my cognition instead of destroying it. I liked that, but I still feel unsure about doing this. Especially now. considering.. ..him.

I like rye bread crackers. I like rice cakes too. A new addition to the food groups.

I saw a small group of massive birds. Their wings were blackish gray, with white underfingers. They sat on a roof. I feel those birds. I vibe with them.

19:42

A grim reality I have to sit with is

I forgot how to live.

When the disconnect started happening, I fought tooth and nail to keep my true humanity. To experience the world like a natural being. To be okay with just.. being. Not latching onto a couple things with my mind. The few things that are important to me - as in, either threatening or pleasurable. I don't see a house and see it's full size and dimension. I see the house. I lost true perception of size. 

Now I don't even remember how to be on the other side. Maybe I just found new ways to fill in the information gaps that appeared. But this is not how it used to be. 

Imagine, for a second, a time I felt things and didn't think about it. A time I could look at the trees and feel them. I wouldn't see the tree - I would see it's dimension. I would understand, without consciously thinking, that the house has an interior. 

It started disappearing as I dove further into the screen. Meditation and sensory depravation used to help for a bit before. Now my world is forever two dimensional, though I see with both eyes.

The thought that it's gone forever makes me feel sick. Nauseous. Knowing this used to be so important to me, that I tried so hard to keep it, but now I don't know enough to care. But I suppose I can enjoy life either way. Right?

22:03