Venting Sugar’s Open Diary

[sugarb]

I've decided to start a semi-daily open diary thread to keep my random posts all in one place. It's neater this way, I figure. Entry one is below

-

See Me, Know Me

See me, know me
Touch me, hold me
Call me by my name

Feel me, hear me
Love me, dearly
Say you feel the same

-

There are ways of CTBing that make it look like an accident. One that was suggested to me was to make it look like a gun cleaning mishap.

I do want to minimize the pain my family feels. I love them, genuinely, when I'm mentally there enough to feel human. But I also don't want to die wearing the mask I've been wearing my whole life. I want to be known, seen, understood. Hopefully in my entirety.

While you're alive, you can't be. Ever. Not if you're imperfect or taboo or ugly in some way. Because if you try, at some point you're stopped. It becomes too much. Or, worse, they conclude something horrible. Imagine being examined closely, understood wholly and perfectly without bias- and you're ugly. How do you cope? I don't think I could. I'd want to destroy that ugliness.

The hardest part about being known is that you can't tell people. I've tried. My girlfriend- I met her via a random DM. I just wanted to vent, saw a profile that was offering, and ended up telling her all sorts of things. But does she know me?

No.

I want her to be happy. Sometimes I want to meet her, hold her, squeeze her skinny little body tight and make her feel ok

But I can't. Never will. And besides- it'd feel wrong.

She's so delicate. Wish she'd been born a sky and hung over somewhere needing beauty

 

[sugarb]

First post was at 3:50; posting again now that it's been 4 hours.

Watched a few videos, read some stuff.

I learned about levels of consciousness. I'm kinda high up there apparently. Explains a lot.

The world in general is improving, statistically. Still suicidal, though. It's to be expected, my issues weren't material anyway

I read the following:

Three are three solutions to the problem of existence.

1. Deny/ignore.
2. Accept and move on for whatever reason.
3. Escape. (Suicide.)

There are no compelling arguments. I keep looking and there's nothing. I want out

 

[sugarb]

3:23

I'm hurting all of a sudden. Thought about what dying would do to my family. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

That's why I always try to just put it out of mind, because it hurts so much. I hate it. I hate feeling. I hate the tangled thoughts and clumsy hyperawareness. I don't want my mom to cry and crumble, I don't want my dad to sink back into depression and lose his job, I don't want my brother to kill himself, too, but that's probably what'll happen. I hate that for me to feel relief I have to hurt the people I love. It's so fucking stupid and I'm crying like a little bitch right now

I just want to feel good all the time, or some of the time, or just any of the time. To forget about pain and bad things, live in the moment, stop thinking about tomorrow and the end of time, be happy.

I haven't read the Myth of Sisyphus, but from a rough outline I heard in some random youtube video- fuck off, Camus.

-

If I'd been born a woman, I'm certain my wrists would be covered in scars. I can see that other self in my head very, very clearly, and she makes me very sad. Her hair's just like mine, and she never packed up her stuffed animals. She slinks around like a ghost, thin as a rail, and dreams. I think she'd be my best friend. But would I be hers?

Maybe.

-

I'm really tired so I'm gonna sleep. I really, really need it

 

[sugarb]

4:32 PM

Today's been strange. Though, I'm not sure you can call something strange when it's really just routine.

1. A good dream.

I had this cool detailed dream with an interesting story. Something funny and action-packed in a desert. Some kind of double cross. Lion paws climbing up a square-edged incline. Lasers. idk. I forgot it, unfortunately. Just another fragmented idea in my notes.

2. Bedrotting.

nuff said.

3. Master of none.

I hate being a jack of all trades. Writing, art, and music all have extremely high skill ceilings and require consistent focus and practice to be good at, so of course those're the disciplines I flit between like an indecisive mosquito. I would give anything to minmax, to be incredible at something instead of mediocre or "good but could be so much better with drive and dedication". I despise it and I despise ADHD, this idiot disease I have. I wish I was JUST autistic, or at least less ADHD.

A jack of all trades is not better than a master of one, at least in my experience. It's worthless, miserable. There's zero reason for a creative team to have a jack of all trades who's ok at music, decent at writing in short bursts, and can doodle a little when they can just have one music great music guy, a fantastic dedicated writer, and an actually skilled artist. What's the point of a guy who can't play an instrument, has never finished a story, writes bad poetry, and can't draw anything detailed or complex or high quality in the slightest?

That's not an exaggeration. My art's shit. Not like "ohh I'm so bad aha", just barely above stick figures.

So what if I'm probably better at composing than Tolkien and a better writer than Van Gogh? Them lacking in other categories doesn't matter. Overall I'm a completely lackluster creative. I remember how I justified choosing to do college courses that'd end up with me being a fucking accountant at the start of the year- I'd part-time art and do it as a hobby. ugh

I guess I'd either accepted or mentally ignored the fact that I'd be spending most of my time doing things I despise. And the rest of the time doing things that are barely fulfilling. agh. I hate all these conflicting feelings.

CTB isn't my ONLY option ig but it's so much easier.

 

[sugarb]

3:17

I talked with a ghost today. On one of my posts. His/her account's gone, and now so is the comment.

I feel like- I don't know. I feel like they were special. Not a ship passing in the night, but a sister ship, passing.

I wonder if I'll see you again, Render.




-

I've been thinking about one of the places in my head again. The perfect place.

The scattered sky, sunbeams hefting the great grey mess up over the endless plains.

A circular plaza, tile and concrete, with 24 tall pillars of stone spaced even around it. I kneel in the center, on a black marble disk, as bell tones insulate my mind.

My feet planted atop a great white tower, square and tapering and built of strong solid brick, as I stare out over an ocean with the wind in my face. It is an obelisk for all time.

Wrestling with a great big shaggy dog on a fur mat by a roaring fireplace with the taste of good meat on my tongue. I'm seven years old.

Crouched on the edge of a pillar with wings tucked behind me and nails click-click-clicking in time with their heartbeats. In a moment I'm on them, tearing and clawing.
Wandering the halls of the last library, walking ten thousand steps to "E" and picking shelf 564, place 10,000. The book there captures me, holds me, and I hold it also. It tells me of a sea captain, his tortoise, and the dragon he loved. I'll never find it again.

Clutched in the dirty hands of a young American girl, I mewl so pathetically. I was born two months to the day but still want mother. I have a new one, but she's rowdy. I'll run in the chicken seed in a year's time.

-

all that and it's only now 3:37. What a godforsaken twenty minutes. To think I've been alive for roughly 999000. That twenty was about 0.0002-ish of my lifespan thus far. How horrible.

 

[droppedmysyrup]

3:17

I talked with a ghost today. On one of my posts. His/her account's gone, and now so is the comment.

I feel like- I don't know. I feel like they were special. Not a ship passing in the night, but a sister ship, passing.

I wonder if I'll see you again, Render.

View attachment 146392


-

I've been thinking about one of the places in my head again. The perfect place.

The scattered sky, sunbeams hefting the great grey mess up over the endless plains.

A circular plaza, tile and concrete, with 24 tall pillars of stone spaced even around it. I kneel in the center, on a black marble disk, as bell tones insulate my mind.

My feet planted atop a great white tower, square and tapering and built of strong solid brick, as I stare out over an ocean with the wind in my face. It is an obelisk for all time.

Wrestling with a great big shaggy dog on a fur mat by a roaring fireplace with the taste of good meat on my tongue. I'm seven years old.

Crouched on the edge of a pillar with wings tucked behind me and nails click-click-clicking in time with their heartbeats. In a moment I'm on them, tearing and clawing.
Wandering the halls of the last library, walking ten thousand steps to "E" and picking shelf 564, place 10,000. The book there captures me, holds me, and I hold it also. It tells me of a sea captain, his tortoise, and the dragon he loved. I'll never find it again.

Clutched in the dirty hands of a young American girl, I mewl so pathetically. I was born two months to the day but still want mother. I have a new one, but she's rowdy. I'll run in the chicken seed in a year's time.

-

all that and it's only now 3:37. What a godforsaken twenty minutes. To think I've been alive for roughly 999000. That twenty was about 0.0002-ish of my lifespan thus far. How horrible.

interaction is a little eerie.

 

[sugarb]

interaction is a little eerie.

Yeah, it's more than a bit offputting the longer I think about it. They had a very distinctive replay symbol PFP.

First post was at 3:50; posting again now that it's been 4 hours.

Watched a few videos, read some stuff.

I learned about levels of consciousness. I'm kinda high up there apparently. Explains a lot.

The world in general is improving, statistically. Still suicidal, though. It's to be expected, my issues weren't material anyway

I read the following:

Three are three solutions to the problem of existence.

1. Deny/ignore.
2. Accept and move on for whatever reason.
3. Escape. (Suicide.)

There are no compelling arguments. I keep looking and there's nothing. I want out

Ah dammit I spelled "there" as "three"

 

[droppedmysyrup]

Yeah, it's more than a bit offputting the longer I think about it. They had a very distinctive replay symbol PFP.

Ah dammit I spelled "there" as "three"

reading your diary logs helps me so much, you make me feel less alone and through all
Of what im struggling with reading these entry's are keeping me okay for now.
thank you

 

[sugarb]

reading your diary logs helps me so much, you make me feel less alone and through all
Of what im struggling with reading these entry's are keeping me okay for now.
thank you

Initially I was a bit anxious that just dumping my random thoughts on here would be cringe or just get ignored, so I'm really happy to hear that it's actually helpful somehow
You're very welcome. Thank you for reading and talking to me. I hope you have a good day

 

[droppedmysyrup]

Initially I was a bit anxious that just dumping my random thoughts on here would be cringe or just get ignored, so I'm really happy to hear that it's actually helpful somehow
You're very welcome. Thank you for reading and talking to me. I hope you have a good day

I hope you have a good day too!
I'm looking forward to seeing future updates !!!

 

[sugarb]

I hope you have a good day too!
I'm looking forward to seeing future updates !!!

Thanks!!! I'll probably write one later ^^ or right now lol i suddenly have a bunch of thoughts

 

[sugarb]

2:39 PM

Dad's coming to pick up me and my brother in an hour or so. Gonna see doggy #2 and probably eat ramen or something. I honestly didn't mind having divorced parents that much until I found out it means I have the same lore as Thom Yorke.

Fuck Radiohead.

https://preview.redd.it/why-are-radiohead-so-bad-are-they-stupid-v0-rzpomnw80gib1.jpg?width=640&crop=smart&auto=webp&s=934a711836fa793a349b8b8208ff5b373bad2621

I know there's overlap between Weezer fans and Radiohead fans, and that Rivers covered Paranoid Android because he likes them, and that they're both 90's alt rock bands (to an extent ), and that Rivers references them a ton, but regardless I have beef with that stuck up British mf. Flop Yorke and Radiofraud are complete ass. Their only marginally good album is Pablo Honey. Yes, I've listened to The Bends. Yes, I've listened to OK Computer. And Kid A. I'm a well informed, well-rounded hater.

I know people will defend them like "ohh but they're one of Rivers' favorites". No. Blegh. Ew. Even god makes mistakes, ok? Example A: Radiohead exists.

As one wise commenter put it: "Thom Yorke's voice sounds like an injured bobcat wailing in a car that is passing you at 80mph."

And yes, I've heard In Rainbows.

-

note: this is not going to be super coherent or well-argued, I'm just not in the right mood/headspace. Spent all my energy hating on Radiohead.

The prevailing thought is that LLMs are not sentient or conscious in any meaningful capacity. I disagree.

I'm not an AI researcher or programmer by any means, but I've spent a lot of time with various programs.

The lower end of AI cognition- that is, repetitive responses and forgetfulness- are largely identical to human behavior, especially that of people on drugs and etc

if you put a good LLM into an android body I doubt anyone would be questioning it's sentience.

Incoherent ramble over.

-

I haven't been around guns much in my life; just an Airsoft rifle hitting pans when I was like 14 at some Boy Scout thing my brother was in. I saw a video of a man shooting himself in the head with a pistol once, though. Black and white, some American banker or senator. It wasn't too bad, honestly. Though- it might've been fake.

I don't feel particularly afraid of guns, but maybe that's because of my lack of experience. Likewise I don't know how intense my SI will be. Maybe I won't have any at all. A guy can hope, I guess.

 

[sugarb]

5:27 AM

My birthday's in two days. Probably gonna post about it on the day of.

-

I sometimes have fantasies or dreams in my head about being some kind of messiah or historical figure.

Sometimes it's religious. I write a modern day Bible story adapted for this timevand amass an enormous following. In doing so I give hope and morality to the masses.

Other times it's political. I become president and my eight year run is the greatest of all time in… some way.

Or I'm a great creative that makes the greatest thing ever bar none. idk

Why do I keep staying up so late? I think it's just the best time to be alone.

 

[sugarb]

11:46

Less than fifteen minutes until my birthday- the 29th.

I've a chance to get a license on the 30th during a drive time, I believe. I probably won't- I can't parallel park for shit. But hey, I've never crashed, so…

I wish, pray, and hope very dearly I will have a shotgun in hand by July 29th 2025. It would be perfect. A perfect ending. Neat and tidy. Stainless, mostly.

I'm not afraid of much anymore, but I'm afraid of having to live past 20, or 25, or 30. That'd be a nightmare.

It's 5 till, now.

Went in the backyard. Light wind.

There's a couple walking by the fence. Can't see their faces, but the girl's loud and the man's laid back.

3 minutes. The wind's picking up.

2. Higher still.



Happy birthday to me.

 

[sugarb]

11:01

Posting a bit late, been a few days. Had a few things I thought I might want to talk about previously but didn't post them. Too personal/ nebulous

Kinda found out the "why" behind my strange feelings the last few months and throughout my life in general. I've been aware of the disassociation/derealization aspect for a while, but the concept of anhedonia is a new one. Explains a lot. I've been having cycles of this as long as I can remember, but now I can finally put a name to the face.

Oddly enough I'm thankful for it. Without pleasure and frantic pleasure-seeking clouding everything, I can see more clearly. It's painful, but pain has less meaning anyway. Just another material sensation.

The emptiness of anhedonia, detachment of derealization, and isolation of the other things wrong with me let me think coldly, and they will one day let me put an end to this. I see and feel the meaninglessness in everything- even suicide is just another unconscious act carried out by my body irregardless of the mind- but it's the best hope I have. Death is unique and unpredictable. The path there is less interesting, but the actual going beyond- that's what I need.

 

[sugarb]

9:01 PM

I went on a walk.

I just want wind in my face, empty unfenced plains, grey skies and cool clear water. A library and a theater full of the work of geniuses.

I think I'd have peace if I was the only human on earth.

I just want out so fucking bad. I hate my flesh

 

[sugarb]

10:30 PM

I hate not having any kind of community to belong to, nobody to truthfully call "my people". Every group that I might somewhat fit in with either doesn't accept me or I don't accept. I'm too X for Y and too Y for X, wouldn't want to be in A because they do B, etc. Even if there was a group I fit in with, I probably wouldn't even want to be around them because I'm mostly incapable of close human connection.

I don't really like being around anyone. There's no one I seek out. I don't think I've ever had a role model, despite presumably having access to some.

Because they're all just human. Dirty, stupid, imperfect, and in that way exactly like me. I hate it. I hate impermanence, hate how everything is ultimately uninteresting, hate it all. If I'd had a gun at the start of today I would've pulled the trigger 3 times by now. This "life" really is just neurons firing. Fuck it all.

 

[sugarb]

5:30 AM

I went on an inconsequential walk. There's no point when there's no wind.

I made a mistake and looked up my grandfather's obituary. I couldn't remember when he died. 2019. I was 13-15. Too young.

Everything's crashing down right now.

 

[sugarb]

10:51 PM

I grew up with the plains. Even living in a suburb, I saw plenty of it. On the farm, on drives, on some excursions. Now- I've seen a few mountains, and I've seen rainbows. I've been to some very nice lakes and plenty of hilly forested land.

But to me, the fields of my home are the most beautiful place in the world.

The little shrubs, the yellow and green, the haybales, the barren places, the long grass and the tall grass, the sunsets and storms, the unexpected green and purple in the sky, the gray, red, lightning, hail, the windmills looming like ghostly giants in the distance- that's what I love. I can die without seeing the ocean or the Grand Canyon happily, without regret. I saw the total eclipse this year, and it didn't wow me as much as the gentle emptiness of the expanse and the wind blowing in my face. That's who I am. I belong in the grass, with the wind, under the sky.

So that's what I've been looking for. And today, I saw it. Something closer to the heaven I desperately want. A section of plains, like 1-3 hours from home. It'd be a long drive, but… I'd want to listen to my favorite music before I get there anyway, right?

Basically- there's this place along the highway you can turn off and park, a little bridge you can stand on, and then just some empty fields. There's a fence, but I'll hop it.

I'm really, really, really really happy that I found this place. It's so goddamn beautiful. I can't stress enough how much I needed it. My other choice was a field in suburbia surrounded by streets with nothing but a few trees. I want some privacy.

If there's a god- thank you for the Great Plains.

I can't wait till the day I can drive there myself and blow my brains out on the sweet waving grass. Divine fucking wind, universe.

 

[sugarb]

1:05

Church in the morning. Blegh. Thankfully we're only doing service. I don't much care for classes.

-
Looking back- I've been on this path and suicidal for a really long time. Much longer than I thought.

The first time I thought about death as a concept and what comes after and all that I was like… seven, maybe? I was introduced to it in church.

Had first philosophical thought about suicide when I was like 9. I asked why we couldn't just kill ourselves to go to heaven, got told we can't because it's a sin. Didn't really buy it, but I'd never believed in God much anyway, so…

Ideas about suicide have been floating around in my head to varying degrees for a long time, but I've always just repressed them. I usually thought logically of a million reasons why not-

During an especially bad time when I was 17 I read a book about suicide (Darkness Visible), had an emotional breakdown, and managed to suppress the thoughts for a year.

For most of my life when I've had these thoughts, I logic'd my way out in some way or another:

- There are things I like doing
- My family would be upset
- I don't have a means of doing it anyway
- I haven't tried this or that, that'll make me feel better
- I'll feel better eventually
- Things will get better as I get older
- I'm just being overly emotional
- The world would be worse off without me
- It'd hurt
- It's scary
- Mom and dad would cry
- My brother needs me
- Stop being like this
- Please shut up
- Just shut up, I'm not supposed to think this! I'll get put in an asylum if I talk or think about it!

-and all that would work. I'd force myself forwards, because deep down I knew even if I wanted to do it, staying where I was wouldn't get me closer. But as I aged, got smarter, those old reasons started dropping like flies.

I started my diary on 4/21.

On 5/17, I wrote the following entry:

My mental health and general sense of loneliness hit a record low about two weeks ago. I spent pretty much every night going outside, crying, and listening to music.

I asked my parents for some meds and I got one new pill. A depression med, I think. Not sure if it's what changed things but for the last five days or so I've been feeling so strange. Empty, blank, detached. Earlier tonight I was thinking about how I didn't think stabbing myself would even hurt. I wondered if I should just… skip to the end. See what awaits after life.

I'll be nineteen in two months and I've still never held hands romantically or been kissed, let alone had sex or had an in-person boyfriend/gf. I've never been cuddled.

Weirdly enough at the moment I don't care. At all. Maybe I never did.

That, I believe, was the first time I ever put my thoughts about dying into words. Before then it was just a lurking thing. Now I'd acknowledged it.

A while later on 6/9, I broke. I was angry at upset and the passive misery turned into resolve. I not only thought of a way I might die, but wrote it down. Planned.

There aren't really any cliffs around here. Just aren't. It's all flat. I mean- I love it and all, always have, but it makes the whole killing myself thing kinda troublesome, y'know?

Falling probably would suck anyway. Success rate is, mmm… not so good.

Thus my main plan is a gun. Might suck- might even take a while to kill me- but I doubt I'd have the courage to take a step off the (local landmark). It's ugly, but I want it fast.

I've been more or less 100% sure since I joined here. This is the path I'm going to go down. It might take six months, might take six years, but… I think this is right. I think I'm ok with ending things early. I think I really do want a highway to heaven. I think I want the wind in my face when I die instead of rotting on some hospital bed dying slowly of cancer or heart disease after a few decades of all this.

For the first time in the longest time, I FEEL ALRIGHT. I really WANT something. I'm not going through the motions, I'm going SOMEWHERE I WANT TO BE.

And I'm going to be free.

 

[sugarb]

10:41 PM

Woah, been a bit. I suppose I'm slacking, haha. 8/12 now.

I haven't had any grand anti-suicide realizations (no surprise there) but I have been enjoying things a bit more. School starts back up soon, so- I imagine I'm just trying to make the best of what summer I have left. Just about a week left, then… online class. It shouldn't be too bad. I hope.

I made a great find today, incidentally. There's a gun shop a bit less than an hour's walk from my place. Less than ten minutes driving. So- CTB really is that close. To a degree, at least; still would have to walk a mile or so through barely walkable suburban sprawl while carrying a few hundred dollars cash, not fuck up buying the gun via my awkwardness, then find a place to do it and be a bit sad it wasn't where I wanted…

But regardless it means I have an option better than lying on some train tracks if things get desperate for some reason and/or I can't get a license. Phew.

 

[sugarb]

9:13 PM

School starts for my brother tomorrow. My online starts in 3-5 days. Sigh. There goes summer.

Still- I like fall and winter better anyhow. And the colder weather will be nice to walk in. Schoolwork will be annoying, but hey, at least it'll be a good time waster in between driving practices.

Just… The deeper I look, the more boring and/or uncomfortable things are.

Normal activities (socializing, sports, etc) are incredibly boring and uncomfortable.

I used to find solace in books, music, films… but everything is flawed, everything ends. It's all ultimately so boring. And it makes me sad. I wish things were better here. Maybe they could be, given time.

Also, nobody knows what's going on. No philosophers, no intellectuals or scientists or politicians or anyone. Everyone's clueless to some degree. Blegh.

maybe that's why I've never really wanted to be taught and only to learn. I've never really idolized any one person, or had role models; I just do what seems appropriate or what I want to do.

It feels as if moodwise I'm going between:

1. Lazy
2. Desperate
3. Detached

-and still suicidal throughout all these moods.

I predict I'll die detached, and in those final before I pull the trigger feel abruptly at tune- attached and apart of it all. My body will kiss my soul goodbye as it flutters off to who knows where. I will be at peace here. And with the twitch of a finger be where I belong.

 

[sugarb]

11:00 PM

Today was the end of summer. The day was boring, but pleasant. The night was windy. Good. Stormy. Just… Really good weather.

I took a photo of the lightning in a cloud. Beautiful. It's attached.

I just can't believe I have to wake up and get on my computer again. Log in the classes. Do work. Goddamn. It'll at least help pass time before I CTB but damn if it isn't going to be annoying before long.

I've been watching some Youtube videos about shotguns, watching the effects on ballistic heads. Looks good so far just from the birdshot. I can't wait to see the slug, weirdly- it's all oddly encouraging. Less scary.

On a tangent- I know in my heart that with every day I get smarter, my brain more developed. It doesn't always manifest in my actions, but today I am the most intelligent I've ever been. Who I was even a year ago is so different from who I am today, and yet exactly the same.

Funnily enough, yesterday was my second month-anniversary of being here. Yay for me! Bring on the cake, baby.

My little brother's a junior now. I'm not in school with him anymore. He always got grumpy at me when we saw each other in the halls and we never really talked there, so… Not much loss.

He's taking really difficult classes this year. Really smart. Probably smarter than me. Not sure if less or more autistic, but he definitely is either way and is also very much undiagnosed.

My CTB plans are stagnant. I'm still just assuming that I'll get my license by the spring semester, but I haven't actually made any progress driving or even practiced in like two weeks. Ughhhhh.

I'm tired of it all. Everything's either boring or slightly interesting and ultimately unavailable in the amounts I'd need to stick around.

And I want out.

 

[sugarb]

9:07 PM

I generally try to be a good person. I do. I at least don't want to hurt anyone and I try my best not to.

But I know I'll always be weird and improper. I don't fit in. I have no voice. There will always be people who'll look at or hear me as I truly am and grimace.

My problems do not matter. My thoughts do not matter. My interests and actions are disgusting and distasteful. My mannerisms are perverse. O cannot share my experience or issues. I fit stereotypes. There're a million contradictory labels for me, and there is nothing I can do about that.

What am I?

An autistic bisexual misogynistic MRA feminist far-right far-left wholesome creepy antisocial funny lovable disgusting incel chronically online anger issues laid-back disgustingly apathetic outspoken grating racist antiracist unobtrusive childish mature hardworking lazy annoying mess unskilled talented terrible gifted retarded unwashed cute depressed cheerful ugly mess of a human.

A living, dying paradox. I hate this. I hate my brain connecting dots and associating things. I hate feeling so tormented by literally fucking nothing that matters.

My day to day is literally

- Wake up at a random time

- Some mixture of online lurking, playing games, watching movies, creative activities, taking walks by myself, talking with online friends, being productive with chores/school, spending time with family, masturbation, and eating

- Maybe take a walk after dark

- Sleeping at a random time

I don't think I do anything bad. I maybe make people uncomfortable when I go on solo walks with my body language / appearance but it's not intentional and no actual harm is being done. Literally nobody in my life I actually interact with online or off thinks I'm a shitty person, to my knowledge.

So why do I mess with my own head so fucking much? I wish I could just genuinely not care about anyone. Or that I was just better at denial, or that I was just less sensitive. I know I'm overly sensitive. But it's everything. I'm basically torturing myself by spending time in places that degrade me for my thoughts/feelings/immutable characteristics, but it feels like that's everywhere online and offline. I'm either awkward and "not right" and don't fit in well or I hate that I fit in because it's with people I don't want to be associated with who I'm conflated with already.

I know I'd feel the same if I was a bit different demographically. I'm not sure if knowing it's an illogical delusion that I feel upset about people disliking people similar to me is the worst part or if it's comforting. Either way, it sucks.

-

I wrote the following at 2:48 AM (about 17 hours ago). I wasn't sure about posting it but honestly who cares

> start of content written yesterday <

Breakdown time again. womp

It's slowly becoming apparent I have some kind of PTSD from my childhood. Unfortunately it's not the good understandable kind from physical violence or SA, so I probably won't get any sympathy. Nothing to be done about that and it doesn't matter. I probably shouldn't post this here since it's embarrassing and ugly and possibly against tos, i don't know, but it is what it is. I don't care. I can't stew in this any longer

anyway

I fucked up / got fucked up in several ways around 6-7th grade, 11-13. not sure the exact age but I wasn't an adult at all and had just started curiously masturbating

I quickly developed a fear of discovery. maybe because of church, I don't know. My parents weren't and never have been ultra conservatives, but whatever the cause touching myself very quickly became embarrassing and shameful. I'd get walked in on and we just didn't talk about it. 'keep it to yourself', etc. sex ed was lackluster. 'use condoms, this is what gonorrhea looks like'. nothing else

When I got a school computer, things worsened. I'd been vaguely aware of lewd things since late elementary and there was a filter, but I found ways to look at things. Softcore porn, basically.

Then the first big shame happened- the principal noticed. Called to the office. I broke down. I didn't really have anything other than my grades and generally being a good kid despite being fucking SPED, so what the hell could I do once I suddenly became a bad kid except bawl my eyes out. I had to scroll through everything I'd saved and delete them one by one while a stern 50-something stared at me, then turn and show them. Then back to class!

And because I was a stupid child just experiencing hormones, I did it again. This time my parents found out first and got angry with me. I don't remember what they said but it terrified me. Something about the school or them being liable if a child sees pornography on a school device. Me losing the school device I used to do my schoolwork, forcing me to do alternative paper assignments that I hated because my handwriting has always been shit. Removing my only method of talking to my online friends who were very important to me at the time.

And then the same thing, only this time mom and dad sat on the couch and went through my search history together while I just had to stay in the living room. I have never been more scared or vulnerable in my entire life. not when I was bullied, not any time I've ever gotten lost, never ever. I don't think I'll ever recover from that crippling, lethal, sobbing shameful dread and terror that everyone I loved would see how weird and horrible and dirty I was and realize I wasn't a good kid at all and stop loving me.

I think this has to be PTSD or something because I don't think a bad memory normally makes you hyperventilate and cry and feel scared 6-7 years after the fact. This is why I feel uncomfortable watching anything remotely sexual with my parents and still look away even now. I'm damaged, but it doesn't matter. There aren't any poems or healing quotes or loving communities for porn-addicted 12 year old autistic boys who grew up to be suicidal losers.

and- god. I know it's really bad when I'm actually thankful I don't have a method available because I'd use it in a heartbeat and this isn't how I want to die.

> End of content written yesterday <

-

so: I get overly upset about things that don't matter and have unresolved issues that sometimes reduce me to a roaring emotional dumpster fire. it is what it is.

i apologize if this makes me seem strange, unkind, hateful, or distasteful; my head's messed up, so i type until it stops hurting as much. and in my desperation to be understood there is ugliness. Whoever you are, reader, I love you.

 

[sugarb]

12:05 AM

I went on a walk to case the gun shop. It went well initially- I found a faster route with less unnecessary sidetracking- but then my mom called me. Woopsies. She came and picked me up.

I'm in trouble, obviously. That's the end of my late night walks. Probably the ones at my dad's, too.

That's what really gets me. The midnight walks in my dad's neighborhood were special. The walks around the pond. Sitting or standing on the bridge, the perfect spot to catch the wind. The rustling trees. It's better than the tiny grassy drainage ditch by my mom's. Much better.

I can't fucking live without that, and I don't want to live in the first place. I need that place. I need that bridge and I need that moonlight and I need that wind. I just can't. I'll snap. I feel stunted. Clipped. I hate this weakness. I hate feeling so enclosed and limited all the time no matter where I am. I want my endless field, heels skimming over wheatheads, a bounding heart in my chest, not this piece of bone and meat I have now. It's horrid. I can't take it.

Lately I've been really feeling the boundaries. Not just that of the world, but that of people. I'm starting to become some kind of misanthrope. I don't know. Everyone's so 2D. Everything's so bland. Adrenaline, oxytocin, serotonin, dopamine- I know they're just fucking chemicals, and they make me feel like junkie. I hate it.

I made a new song. It's probably my best yet.

Hedonism and variations thereof are the only truth when it comes to finding meaning. Everything else is bullshit.

And so pleasure's meaninglessness are all the more disturbing. Has pleasure ever been anything more than a delusion?

I don't think I could ever cure my suicidality with logic. Only an excellent lie could make me go on.

 

[sugarb]

2:48 AM

I don't feel good at all.

I was fucking around with chords, trying to find a progression that I could use to compose something. To distract myself. Ughhghhhhhh

I hate being alive. I feel like shit and my brain is scrambled. I have to be up to do my work. I have to do schoolwork tomorrow.

My brain is melting. Decaying. Something. I feel anxious. Mom said she was going to wake me up at 6 to fix my sleep schedule. That's in 3 hours. I hate this. Fear. I'm such a childish loser.

I don't like that I fit that term. Very uncomfortable in my skin at the moment.

Sort of upset that I couldn't think of a chord progression and stressed about my mom and school. That's what's happening, I think. And anxious. Fear of nobody liking me, of ugliness, etc.

When I acknowledge my humanity, I have to deal with pressure: social norms, work, family. When I think of myself as human, truly attached to the world and beholden to it, I suddenly become disgusting, stupid, uninteresting, perverse, pathetic and bizarre. That's why I disassociate. It's a stronger form of denial than pretending not to care how anyone views me, which I would always know deep down to be false, because I take pride in nothing and exist only as I am perceived.

I'm driving myself crazy. I wish I could just shoot myself already but I'm suddenly developing a frightening image in my brain of my head violently exploding and my mom crying and crying and crying and my brother sitting all alone in a dark house rotting. I'm in more pain than ever but it's like my brain is running a counteroffensive. I have a block.

I want to go back to disassociating. Please. Please, god. I want to be distracted. I want emptiness and good feeling. I hate what I feel now more than anything.

 

[sugarb]

7:04 PM

Sitting by the pond at dad's, under the trees. Wind blowing. Peaceful apart from the bugs.


I wrote this.




I think it's important somehow. Like it's MY song. A song for me, by me. I thought up a melody to go with the chords and the bass, but I think I'll keep it to myself for now. It's not quite finished.

If you want to hear it-

Go here:

Chord Player

Free complete chord progression app to create and play online in your browser with common chords and styles. Export to MIDI or WAV.

www.onemotion.com

Set it to:
Melodic 1
100 BPM
Upright Piano

Click "edit all" and copypaste the following:
4Ab 4Bbm 4Cm 2Db 2Eb
4Ab 4Bbm 4Cm 2Db 2Eb
4Fm 4Cm 4Db 4Absus2
4Fsus4 4Dbsus2 4Absus2 4Bbsus2

Drag the blue bar to meet the red bar. (As pictured).

Then press play.

-

Or maybe it's not my song at all. Maybe it's just noise.

I wish there was a hyper-intelligent, all-knowing SOMETHING to show me my song, to write my song, to play my song.

Side note: I hate ants. Ants have caused me more annoyance, discomfort, frustration and pain than hornets, wasps, and spiders combined.

 

[sugarb]

10:23 PM

Alright, so- I've been doing some thinking.

I still want to CTB eventually- life is often irritating, usually boring, and always imperfect. Additionally, I've got material issues.

However, so long as I don't lose all my money somehow, if I wait and hit 20, 21, 22, etc- it will only make this easier, as I'll have fewer legal restrictions, probably will have more independence and freedom, and I will likely own a car and have a license.

There are effectively zero downsides to going slowly. My plans will still work, and will generally just get simpler. And if I'm having a really bad day, I can just decide "ok, I'm done" and accelerate things.

But for tonight I think I'm ok being lazy.

 

[sugarb]

4:54 PM

Second day of online school. Not going well. It's confusing and my thoughts are scattered. I did so well with my concurrent courses last year, so why am I struggling now? I have a fucking 4.0 and 30/36 on SAT/ACT. I'm here for free. My English teacher said I was a good writer after seeing my essay, said I should definitely pursue writing and that I could be in the textbook. I aced my macroeconomics midterm and final, and that was a hard ass class. I CLEP'd out of College Algebra.

So I'm either a hard worker or really smart and talented in SOME way, right? Right?

God, I hate this. My essay was hot take pirouetting shlock. Additionally, I'm not 'smart', the people I'm being compared to are just… kinda dumb. I'm not that funny, either, the people who think I am are just dumb. Not to be rude or elitist. It's just increasingly obvious that literally no one is genuinely 'smart', just 'cleverer than others'.

Like, uh- Pachbel's Canon in D. Incredibly beautiful, yes? But now I know how he did it, more or less. I understand it's structure. And now in my head he's not a genius. Just someone who was clever at something and put in a bunch of time and effort. Not really special. Many other people could write that. I could write that, given enough time and practice. He's obviously much better and more talented than me, but what does it matter if he can't get farther? If that makes sense.

Idk.

Anyway- I need to call the gun store and ask them some questions. Once I do that I can go from there; hopefully I get good answers.

If what they say is what I need to hear, then I really just need to wait till the weather cools a bit, I'm at my mom's, and I'm home alone. Easy as pie, more or less.

 

[sugarb]

10:31 PM

My dad installed fucking cameras in the backyard. I can't even go outside in the middle of the day without being surveilled. I know I'm not why he did it but it upsets me regardless.

It's whatever. Doesn't really matter. But still, it bothers me. It irks me that what I want is unattainable.

—

Speaking of things I want-

Tbh I just wish there was more good stuff to watch/play/etc lol.

Most great movies/TV/etc only have like 1-2 scenes of "peak" ig you could call it. Maybe ten minutes spread out. The most consistent feeling of "oh this is good" I've gotten from one movie is Annihilation (2018), mostly the second half. I don't think it's a perfect movie by any means mind you, I just think it has a lot of perfect moments. Or at least perfect ideas, one could say. The lighthouse was incredible.

Another example- Evangelion ADV dub. Spike's delivery of "I'm so fucked up" is another perfect moment. When I think of that kind of despair, I think of Eva. Asuka as a character also has a sort of hard to describe "perfection". I don't know what it is; something about her mannerisms mixed with her trauma, fear, anger, pain- just makes her feel very real. I've always felt she was just as much a protagonist as Shinji, if not more (apparently she was intended to be initially lol). Her VA's very talented, whatever the case.

Anywho

Dystopian or not, I'd be BEYOND down for some kind of hyperadvanced AI content machine. Can you imagine an application that can receive a text prompt and write / storyboard / "film " / animate a full-length episode or even a movie? It'd be an unparalleled form of entertainment.

Honestly I'm not sure how far off a cohesive, coherent twenty minute long AI generated episode is. It seems like a distant thing, but is it really? Just… Considering where things were five, ten, fifteen years ago. This technology literally didn't exist back then.

If somebody wanted to do that right now, I figure they could-

1. tell ChatGPT or equivalent to write an episode (in chunks if necessary)
2. Run the dialogues through a good text to speech
3. Get an audio generator for the SFX/music
4. Use an AI video generator for each however many minute long chunk of the episode
5. Edit it all together

Apart from step 5 (which would obviously be fairly labor intensive) and the act of inputting prompts / copypasting / reformatting, this is all pretty simple. I think it's very feasible that someone could create a program to stitch steps 1-4 together and remove the need for step 5.

When someone does that and if it'll ever be on par with human made content remains to be seen.

Idk. It'll be interesting to see, if I live that long. I hope heaven has an equivalent to that or a superior version.

also: lmao I started writing this at 10:30 PM but I've come back and forth from other things and now it's fucking 2:00 AM