Spreadsheet / insomnia / frustration / AUSTIN POWERS

My very dedicated fans will know at this point that I only show up when I have some short-term, random insomnia. 

Are you sp/so? Keep a spreadsheet about yourself. Life-changing. Sometimes I just open the spreadsheet and stare at it a little while. 

Also these updates to the spacehey layout are super dope. No I will not be touching them as of right now.

Um but yeah. And if you're not sp/so but (recreationally) keep a spreadsheet about your daily life, I am genuinely very interested in the contents of that spreadsheet. My spreadsheet is sp/so-topia.

I am not someone who pulls all-nighters! I always get at least one hour of sleep in at the last second or I spend the following day conked out. But I (against my will) pulled my first authentic all-nighter last night. I fell in asleep in my chair in study hall for 20 minutes without my knowledge. It felt like a lapse in consciousness. 

I'm attracted to Austin Powers. The moment I became attracted to him was when he was entertaining this drunk woman he's wanted to have sex with since he met her with very dumb humor. Then the drunk woman says she wants to have sex with Austin, and he says he can't because she's drunk and continues to entertain her. You either get the inherent sex appeal or you don't. Some context may be needed. He is like this British 60's sex symbol who makes stupid jokes and is very average-looking. I don't know. Having access to pure joy is very sexy. And the fact that he was not flirting with her at all when she was drunk, he was just childishly entertaining her ... hm. I also find his having no natural inclination toward monogamy very sexy for some reason. There's this scene where he's being seduced by this beautiful woman, but she gets grossed out by him farting. It kills the vibe for her but not for Austin Powers, which is emblematic of something.

Been thinking about frustration recently. Apparently Camus or someone said that frustration was the root of all human suffering. And I didn't really find that meaningful until someone brought up that the origin of frustration was being a totally dependent infant with unmet needs and no real gauge for time. Like, lol. So that's why doing literally anything is hard. People have to develop context to their frustration and then have effective strategies. 

And do you need context for your frustration in order to bear it? Actually I think so. Bc the sensation itself feels sort of timeless.

My issue is that I've comfortably built my identity around not really having any desires, which may be a flat-out lie. Maybe the reality is that I have desires, but a really low tolerance for frustration. I may have said this on spacehey before (if so, lol?), but I'm slogging through the longest period of passive suicidal ideation of my life. It actually kind of feels like it's going away, which is awesome. But it felt pretty bleak like 1-2 months ago. And so what then? How do you create desires out of a refusal to make anything lasting with your life?

It's probably a matter of just forcing yourself to do varied activities until you develop some sort of love for life. That's so hard. I'm optimistic though, and if anyone happens to be reading this, my intent is definitely not to trigger anyone. A YouTuber was like "when times are bad, you forget how good good feels." So as long as we can trust that there is this inarticulable goodness in the near future, um. That's wonderful. 

Anyone who's anyone has been telling me that my enneagram cult are elitists that claim their types are rare and type most everyone else as a 9 or 6. This has made me realize that somehow... I am bothered by the idea that hexad types are more prevalent than I think they are. 

In every way I am very 9, but at the same time I still feel distanced from it. I don't realize that I am as slow as I am or lethargic or unreactive until I see myself in third person. I don't realize how cloudy my headspace is, or how lazy I am, or how I'm always looking to soothe myself in every moment of every activity until I observe others. Although I'm aware of ever-persistent external indicators of these, I still don't internally realize that I'm a positive outlook number, or even feel particularly close to the virtue of "harmony." I also hate the fact that I seem to vaporize every trait, memory, and feeling I have until it's rendered completely dull by infinite useless and contradicting nuance.

If 9 is a disproportionately popular number, I feel justified in having some ideal sense of self that isn't 9. I feel like 9 isn't "me," just like it can't possibly be the true identities of a disproportionate amount of people on Earth. But if there are many hexads in the world, it's like. I don't know. I understand every type is a limiting fixation, but. I guess basically I don't understand why some people have such pride in their number. Well like I am proud of being a 9, and I'm proud of other 9s, but I just don't feel like it's who I am in a way a self-proclaimed 4 or a 5 on Reddit can say it's who they are. I feel like 9 is an external force around me.

I guess what it really all comes down to is that I genuinely can't conceptualize being in the body/mind/nervous system of another type. Like I just fundamentally don't understand it the way I understand 9. All of the other types sound incomplete to me.