/fallen/ - the fallen human

>>100

my mom was the one who set up the psychiatrist stuff. i just don’t really care enough anymore to refuse. i figure at this point i might as well just try it, try whatever my parents suggest. i don’t have a lot of better ideas. or at least, i seem to be incapable of doing most things without someone else pushing me or advising me or whatever the fuck. maybe something will work. maybe it won’t. i won’t know until i get there. so fuck it. i don’t know.

the text limit really sucks though. i don’t have a lot of other major issues with the site right now but that part is annoying. oh well. just some new bullshit to work around i guess.

>>102

(2nd part)

my basic daily routine has remained practically identical to what it has been ever since i was a small child, coming out of kindergarten and starting homeschool rather than going to public school anymore, from first grade onwards:

>wake up, any time from something like 7:00 am to something more like 11:00 am/12:00 pm

>eat breakfast

>start working on schoolwork for the day. the amount of work/time spent doing it has always changed many times, but the time it takes at least has usually always fallen within the range of about 2-3 hours to about 4-5 hours at most

>complete the few household chores assigned to me for the day, or even just one. these have almost always been piss-easy, never taking longer than maybe 30 minutes at the very most and a minimal amount of effort.

>take a shower perhaps if i need to (or want to) that day

>use the computer/play video games for basically the entire remainder of the day. stopping of course to eat food and go to the bathroom and such, but not much else. for a lot of my childhood my mom also forced "breaks" for about 30 minutes to an hour set in the middle of my free time where i had to do something else. there has for a long time also been a set time for me to stop altogether for the night, usually at about 8:30 pm. both of those haven't been rules for a good while now, though. but even as a younger kid i could spend up to 5 or 8 or even 10 hours on the computer/playing games most days, usually more on weekends. at this point in my life it's usually about 8 hours every day.

>something more recent(ish) is my daily walk which i usually take at about sunset. takes about an hour typically.

>after i'm finished using the computer for the day i take care of hygiene if i can, get in bed, and try to go to sleep.

that's about it generally. the average day where nothing in particular happens, which is most days and has always been most days. it hasn't always been terrible. it isn't even "terrible" now. it's a lot better than it could be, in fact. but it's the same. it's the same as it always has been, and it's hard to imagine it being much different. i don't know if i even want it to be much different. but it's all i know. and the computer, i've spent most of my life using the computer. that's basically all i do all day, that's how it's been my whole life. it's all i know. i went to church sometimes and i rode my bike sometimes and i went to relatives' houses sometimes and i talked to people rarely. but most of the time, it was on the computer or playing video games. that's where i've lived my life.

that probably isn't special or incredible or anything though. plenty of people have lived similar lives and will continue to live them. plenty of people understand the things i do, surely. in one way or another. nothing is really that special, is it? it's all just re-arranged to look and seem different, but it's really all the same deep down. it really takes from the same pool. that seems to go for pretty much every "level" of existence. my own life seems to be the same things over and over again, but those things are also just repeats of things other people have experienced, and everyone and everything is just a repeat or re-arranging of something that came before it. that's how it feels sometimes at least. and even that realization or idea itself isn't anything new. of course it isn't. you've probably heard it before, too. it's all the same, in some way, shape, or form. at every level, it's the same.

>>103

(3rd)

"it's only me." it's only you. it's only the way it is, and it will never be any other way. the bells that ring now will be the same ones that ring over and over and over for the rest of eternity in this reality. that's what that drawing meant, that's the thought i was having the day before. "it's only me." just "you." but you're everyone, and everyone is you. it's all the same. you're a human being, a living creature on this earth, in this universe, just like every other one like you. and living or not, you're a thing just like everything else is a thing. even if you have a soul or something similar, plenty of other things must have it too. i don't know. i don't know what i'm talking about, i don't know anything. but you know what i mean, you've heard it before, right? it's not a new idea, none of it is new. but that seems to be the way it is. reality is the way it is and it won't change. it only gets re-arranged, and decays until eventually there is nothing left.

that's how it feels. it feels like i am trapped in a cruel, dull, empty shell of a world. none of my words bring anything new or interesting or worthwhile to the table either. the clock will keep ticking, and the same things will continue to happen for me and for everyone else. and there's no way out. even death is just more of the same. the same as it was like before you were born, right? or maybe you get reincarnated, or live the life you do now all over again. it's all a repeat even in the very end. the questions i wondered about while lying on my parents' bed at 8 years old, like "why am i myself, and not someone else?" "why does anything even exist?" "if god exists, where did he come from? why did he make anything at all? what's the point of it all, what does the end look like?" they're all the same questions people have asked for hundreds of thousands of years, questions i can still ask now and have no answer for, questions other people will continue to ask and have no real answer for, or the same guesses they've always had in some form. it's all the same. it will happen over and over and over again.

it's so overwhelming. i can barely focus while writing this. even when it's all just a repeat, it feels like it just gets heavier and heavier, harder and harder to bear. it's all so tiring. it's all so utterly exhausting. and it must be the same for so many others as well. people who have it even worse than me, too. people who have it better even. it's nothing new, none of it is. but regardless, it's exhausting. it makes me want to just give up constantly, i want to just lie down and let whatever happens happen to me and not care one bit. and more than any of that, i want to run away. i want out of this reality. i don't want to DIE, i want to ESCAPE.

>>104

(last)

but there's no way to ESCAPE, except through your own feelings and imagination and through art created by others or yourself, it seems. and that's why i spend so much time with those things, so much time in my own head, or observing things like nature and such. i want to get away from everything. i want to be somewhere better, somewhere far away from this repeat of a repeat of a repeat. i don't want to be here. i'm not meant for this world. i don't want anyone else to have to be forced here either if they don't want to be. but that's not how it works. there's nowhere to run, nowhere to go. you're backed into a corner and the only "way out" is to DIE. maybe not now, but eventually. and until then you'll just have to sit in this dark little corner world and learn to live with it. or just suffer and do nothing but suffer. there are no "solutions," no better alternatives, there's no fancy restaurant you can go to down the street instead. all you have is this run-down shitshack of a world and you're going to have to accept that or make yourself believe that it's good or worthwhile.

there's nothing else. nowhere else to go. all you have is the world of the imaginary, the world of emotion, the world of your own creation. that is the boundary past which nothing better exists. just those strange and fantastical notions of what could be, those ideas and odd feelings and little experiences that bring you off into a whole new world inside your head. it's all in your head. and it's funny how your head can create both the most wonderful things one can experience, and the most horrible. it's all in your head. there's nothing more, nothing less. your faint grasp of those idealized fantasy realities is the most you will ever taste of it. it is the most anyone in this world will ever taste of it. anything else seems to be illusion, or a fantasy in itself. at least the little you do get to taste is sweet enough to be one of the few things enticing me to go on in this world. it feels so intriguing sometimes that it makes me wonder if there's something more to be found in it after all, something that will eventually make everything truly worth it somehow. but that's just a fantasy, of course. a familiar one, it seems. just as it always is. regardless, that's something to write more about later, maybe. i don't know.

now i'm not sure what else to say. maybe i've expelled enough garbage for one night. it's, as i've repeated, just the same thing people have always known, anyway. it all is. but it's also obvious why i write it anyway, even knowing that. just for some assortment of selfish reasons. nothing new there either. so i might as well just finish it now. i don't know. i don't know anything. i'm tired.

I don't think I need to say just how much it feels like looking into a mirror with these posts. Maybe I'm here for a good reason. What cruel deity would conceive of such a nightmare otherwise?

>>107

(2nd part)

i just get this need to try and understand all these weird subtleties whenever i notice or feel them, i don't know. in some ways it can be almost like a perfectionism, or an obsession with understanding or "getting to the bottom" of every little thing that seems interesting or obscure or whatever. i've always been somewhat fixated on various other senses of perfection as well, like one thing i would think a lot about as a kid was wondering if it was possible for someone like jesus christ to exist purely by chance or through some incredible character and will they happen to have. as in, someone who isn't divinely influenced necessarily but happens to live a life of complete moral perfection, managing never to make any true mistake, never hurting anyone in any way, never committing any sort of moral wrongdoing (moral meaning in a christian moral sense i suppose), etc.

i think i was always more obsessed with the idea of knowledge or understanding though. i think my early access to the internet and my realization of how vast it really was contributed the most to this. in particular, i really liked the idea of "maturing" faster or acquiring knowledge and understanding of things faster than i "should." that of course might be a negative or silly thing for several reasons, but nevertheless it still very much pleased (and i suppose still does please) me to endlessly consume vast amounts of information and overthink everything and go around and around in circles in my mind over every little thing to try and "figure it out" or ride through to some other train of thought that takes me even further round the bend. and even when it isn't pleasing, i still feel compelled to do it anyway, even if for nothing else but to stave off feelings of boredom and emptiness and such.

because, i suppose, it feels "meaningful" in a way to explore these things in my head. even when it's all so full of despair and hopelessness and terror, it still feels worthwhile in some way, or like i might be "getting somewhere" with it even just in some abstract sense. in a way it's a bit related to that little fantasy i have in my head of somehow uncovering this incredible underlying truth or experiential understanding that opens up a new door into something amazing, or whatever. and that even is just one fantasy out of that same general idea that never seems to leave me and stop me from hoping for it. and of course, you know how the story goes. one day, by some miracle or through my own efforts, manage to find THE INCREDIBLE THING, the THING that makes this reality truly special, or takes me to a different one that is, or something. the THING that makes everything worthwhile, the THING that brings something truly fantastic and special and noteworthy to this mundane world, this mundane life. the special THING, the wonderful THING, the impossible THING, the PERFECT THING. fantasy finally made reality. then, the wandering and wandering and wandering isn't all for nothing.

>>108

(3rd)

so, some part of me always likes to feel as though i'm on this precipice of something truly important or amazing or something. obviously, that is highly unlikely wishful thinking at best. but it feels good to hope anyway, doesn't it? yeah. of course it does. over and over and over again, even if nothing changes. i can be grateful it still "works," at least. cause who knows, maybe someday it won't. i dunno.

i think there's something worth mentioning now though. for some reason lately it has become easy to ignore it, but the one method through which i feel these things can be truly expressed or explored in some satisfying way is through some kind of art or media or whatever. even if i can never taste that wonderful all-encompassing understanding and escape from this black prison of nothing, surely there must be some better way to encapsulate and express all of this in a personal and impactful and interesting way. i've known in myself for a long time now that the only way to truly create what i envision is with a video game or interactive experience of some sort. i suppose the problem is merely just, you know, doing it and trying at it. but everyone and their mother and their father and their dog and their half-cousin knows that. of course they do. but that's only because it's true. right?

well. it must be. it's just a funny situation, because i'm the opposite of everything you'd imagine when you think of some determined artist ready to work hard at their craft and make something truly incredible or whatever the fuck. yet, it's all i can really think to "do" in life when i'm not just sitting around doing nothing and feeling hopeless or just aimless (which is most of the time as you can see). it is the only true path i can see for myself, in a world like this. but i've said that before i think, whatever. i just need to restate it i guess, even if just for myself. i mean, i guess all of this is just for myself anyway, is it not? i don't know. i guess it depends on how you see it perhaps.

>>109

(last)

(also, same amount of separate posts as last time. cool i guess. yeah.)

but anyway, to wrap this all up i guess. it's just so overwhelming, it's so much. it's hard to lose track of what i should really be keeping track of, what i can hold on to. lately it's all really been hitting me hard i guess, fogging up my mind, stranding me out in this endless desert where i feel so lost. a lot of it is my own fault mind you, but that's a given at this point. still though, it persists. sadly being aware of something doesn't always mean you can just get rid of it right then and there. if being aware could do that then i'd probably be living some near-perfect existence right now with how much i overthink this shit. but whatever. whatever. i don't know what to do right now. sometimes it feels like i'm struggling just to keep my head above the water long enough to think about anything i could possibly do next. i know that's the analogy everyone uses, but it's a good one.

but yeah. fuck. maybe i can write more about what i'd like to explore artistically eventually too. i don't know. it's a lot more weird stuff that's hard to explain through words, so it'd probably be just as disjointed and rambly as this post if not more so. oh well. guess it doesn't really matter. i'm done now though. seeya.

>>106

i'm glad i can provide something for you to relate with, at least. i know that can sort of feel relieving, even if everything in question is horribly unpleasant. but i understand. maybe there is something to be said there. i don't know.

>>107

>without it sounding like meaningless babble

don't worry about things sounding like meaningless babble

the people that are interested in reading your posts aren't the people who are so low IQ that all they can comprehend is general small talk

language is a tool, don't be ashamed of using a wrench like a hammer, it works

>>110

>this endless desert

A desert is a pretty fitting description of this place

the one I like to use better is sea of oil or molasses.

I wonder if icy tundra would be more apt sometimes, seems like a good compromise but the heat is far more painful than the cold.

>>111

thanks for the encouragement. although, i'll probably still worry anyway. but whatever, that's just how it always is, who cares. that's probably good to keep in mind regardless. also, i suppose you're also right in saying that anyone who bothers to read my long posts in the first place will probably be fine with figuring out things that might be a bit obtuse as well, or at least they'd be able to skip over it or something. i don't know if i'd say my writings require much actual intelligence to understand though despite my weird long-winded way of wording and explaining things. if anything it seems more like a matter of patience or attention-span or something to me, i guess.

>>112

a sea of oil/molasses is an interesting one, and it does make a lot of sense too. i can see why you prefer it. another way i like to think about it is like some kind of endless maze where everything looks exactly the same and you have no idea where you're going or if you've just been going around in circles to places you've already been. an icy tundra is another good one, but i definitely agree with you on heat being much worse than cold. it makes me think of days i've had before where i spent too much time in the summer heat for one reason or another, and just end up feeling horrible and absolutely exhausted and almost kind of dissociated for the rest of the day. it sucks the life out of you. and that seems much more fitting to me.

>>119

also holy fuck i think the character limit might be gone

if so then thank god

>>119

>write thoughts down

interesting

chara ever consider writing something here on /fallen/?

could be interesting

>>122

we've considered the possibility, but it hasn't really happened yet. one of these days they might just do it though, who knows i guess. i wonder what they'd write for people to see too.

>>129

(there's still a word limit. fuck. at least it's bigger now.)

it felt so strange at first to hold it again, to turn it on and see all the familiar buttons and visuals after all this time. it's only been about a decade, but i suppose with how young i am, it seems like forever ago. pressing the same buttons, looking at the same lens, holding it in the same way. it's just a camcorder, but it feels so significant in that sense. it's strange to see yourself as a child through that screen, the screen you've looked at time and time again. that child is you. it was you, it is you, it has always been you. everything they do is what you have done, everything they saw and felt and said and thought is what you saw and felt and said and thought. everything, every little thing. that living being, recorded a decade or more ago, is you. you're looking into your own eyes, but through a thick barrier of time and space. you're looking at everyone around you, too. and the places you were, they still exist in some form. it's still there, but now other people live there, other things happen, other lives are lived in the same places you lived part of yours. some things change, some things stay the same. but it's still there. you were still there. everything else that was there, was there too. some of those things and people still exist. you still exist. don't you?

it feels especially strange to see the innocence, the excitement, the happiness, the silliness. it feels like a different person in that way. but it's me. it has always been me, and always will be me. and i suppose you could say that concept is meaningless, or that i am not the same person at all. and perhaps you would be correct. but there's something fundamental there that has persisted, unchanging, for all this time. there's something that makes "me," right? or is that just another delusion or man-made concept? i don't know. you know this whole charade already, even if you don't know the answer either. the nature of the self, and all that. who knows. i don't know. i don't quite know the nature of anything, really. in that way i really am the same as that child walking around all those years ago. i'm just taller and have larger hands and use more big dumb words. but do i really know much more than i did then, am i really that much "better?" not really. seems as such to me at least. but hey, what do i know, even about myself? i don't know shit. i don't even know if i do know shit or not.

it's also just terribly melancholic, to know that this child is someday going to become me, they will end up as me, continue on as me. they have to become an "adult," they have to "grow up." someday, they will have to die. but they're so innocent, so naive. they don't deserve any of this. they don't deserve to be doomed to the fate of becoming me, the fate of living in this world. but it had to happen anyway. and it happens to everyone else too. everyone else must become who they become, and they must live in this world for as long as they must. it's just the way it is, the way it has always been. it does not matter how innocent or evil you are. everyone plays by the same basic rules, it seems. and i must, as well. that child must. it's just the way it is. there is no way to save them from this strange purgatory.

>>130

(yeah)

there's no way out. why do i even torture myself with these things? why can't i just stop thinking about it, stop worrying, stop caring? why can't i just "get better?" is it really that i choose this path, is it that i refuse to leave this deadly comfort? i don't know. it's all in my head. all of this is just inside my head, inside my body. there's no escape from that. i can't get out. looking at these tapes, sometimes it feels so unreal. sort of like it does in other situations sometimes, but here it manifests in a specific way. it's strange to see my memories. to see the places i was, to see myself experiencing what i have experienced. to see it all. it feels like it can't be real. it almost feels like the line between now and then is blurring the more i watch them and think about it. that family is my family, some of those things still exist, some of it still persists. it's different, but also the same. how can that be? how can i be looking my mother in the eyes, the same person who existed that decade or more ago, holding the camera of the tape i just watched? how can it be possible that they are the same? i ask that, yet it makes perfect sense at the same time. i don't know. it's just so odd. and i can't get enough of it. maybe that's why i never "get better." somehow, despite how much suffering and confusion it entails, i just love running these circles over and over and over again. like sisyphus pushing the boulder up the hill. shouldn't that mean i've solved the "problem" of existence? maybe, probably not. there might not be any "problem" in the first place. maybe this is just the way it is. that might make sense. unless i'm just speaking nonsense. which very well might be the case. i don't know.

perhaps watching these tapes and dwelling on my own thoughts and feelings about it endlessly isn't so good for me?

well. watching my brother run around a chair singing jingle bells made me smile and laugh really hard, so i think it's probably worth it to keep going, right?

yeah. of course it is. it will all make sense in the end, surely. just keep going. smile for the camera, won't you?

>>135

(2nd part)

with sandbox games though, it's definitely much easier to go on and on and on for hundreds and hundreds of hours, just doing all sorts of things by myself. there's a game i've been playing quite a lot recently actually that serves as a good example: subnautica. some weeks ago i started a new save file, since i was also playing the expansion they're working on, on and off, although it of course is not finished. but with playing the original again, i decided to install some mods for it, which actually exist and there are quite a few somehow. this was enough to "spark" me again with this game, one of the few games in my little corner of comfort i have here. i already have about 900 hours in the game, just from playing it over and over in different ways. i've built a seabase in every single biome before, and i plan on doing something similar again in this playthrough. there is actually a story in this game that you progress through, but of course you can also take your time and focus more on the sandbox elements, which i obviously do quite a bit.

anyway though, i've been playing this a lot recently. like, a lot. pretty much all i've been doing the past week or so has just been playing this game, all day. the mods i downloaded are enough to make it extremely fun again, apparently. i'm not complaining of course, but it is just interesting. one thing i forgot to explicitly mention is that this sort of thing happens very often. as in, i start getting "focused" or "obsessed" with one of my comfort games or even a new comfort game i find in particular, and i just play that and only that until it is finished or until i burn myself out completely with it or something. i squeeze it for everything that it's worth, i get all that i can out of it and then some. then i get tired of it, and move on to a different comfort game or comfort thing to do for a while, and come back to it later. that's the way it goes, i suppose. heh.

i'm not sure what else to say though. i know i said i was going to write more about how i want to make a game and such, but i don't really feel like doing that now. i could also write about new years and how odd it is that it will be 2020 and it's a new decade and all that existential time and space nonsense, but i don't really feel like that either. i just want to play this game. that's all i want to do, is play this video game. cool and fun video gaming. i suppose it is a lucky thing that i can decide to do that, i have a choice. some people don't get that. although, i guess some people also don't get the choice to shoot themselves in the head too, but it's debatable whether that's a good or a bad thing. yeah.

happy new year, i guess.

i didn't really say anything, but the monday after christmas i went to the local goodwill again early in the morning to look around again. i was hoping for another camcorder, because the one i got ended up being difficult to use, since although it does work it doesn't charge properly so you can only use it while it's plugged in to the wall. i didn't find another one really (i did see a camcorder that uses DVDs or something instead of tapes, but i figured it wouldn't be worth it since i already bought tapes to use for the kind i have now), but i did get a couple other things.

one thing i got was a electronic typewriter, it plugs into the wall and has some extra features but otherwise it seems to work as any typewriter does. the ink is still quite potent as well, like the text shows up fine and everything. it's surprisingly easy to use, although i guess perhaps that might just be because it's a "newer" one. i dunno. i wrote some things with it to test it out, and yesterday i wrote down my dream from the night before. using it for dream journaling like that might be fun. but anyway. next thing i got was a VCR, and some national geographic VHS tape to test it. it ended up not working very well though - i got it connected to a television and everything through a HDMI converter thing, but two things happened. the first problem was it just ate the tape pretty much, i took it out and it almost ripped it apart (it did rip the second time i pulled it out).

the second thing was, i think these might not work with newer televisions much at all. because i used the converter to connect the camcorder as well after and found they both had a similar problem of cutting out and stuff every second or so. they seemed to play a bit but it was very messed up. so, i ordered a CRT tv online to try and get around that problem, it'll probably just be better for these kinds of things in general anyway. it was probably the most expensive thing i've bought so far though, nearly 50 dollars with some extra for shipping. it should be here in several days though. that'll be neat to have. it's too bad the VCR didn't really work and i lost the tape, but it's a good thing that was only about 6 dollars down the drain. that's one of the nice parts about these stores i suppose, heh.

last thing i got that day was a couple new film cameras. they seem a bit newer than what i have, still using film though. but it has stuff like flash and things like that built in, so i'll try it to see how it is. they seem to be the same kind essentially, but one is some kind of panorama camera or something. i'm sure i'll figure it out.

i'll probably write more later. i just wanted to make a short post talking about this stuff a bit more cause i've found myself very interested in it. but yeah. see ya.

>>140

(part 2)

the "odd" here seems to come from the mixing or blending or balancing of these two kinds of things. a lot of the time, it seems to involve being aware of the oddity of everything in question, and that awareness can be in itself odd. it's something like, staring into the darkness in a corner of the room. it's like an empty shopping mall. it's like a low-poly video game. it is something that is partially real, or partially not. real but also unreal. there is something mundane to it. it's just a corner, just a game, just a mall. but something feels as though there is more to it. your mind imagines things. it's almost like a seam in the fabric of reality. and when the brain sees something like that, something unfinished, it attempts to fill it in. but by doing that, you end up filling something in the "real" with something of the "unreal," like some sort of strange patchwork. and this seems to cause the "odd" to come about.

or memories for another example. the simple idea here is that they are both things that really happened, that you really experienced in this "reality," but at the same time the memory is unreal and it is all in your head. you only remember an approximation of what happened. and who's to say your experience was even any more "real" than a memory is, anyway? you're inside your head the whole time. in that sense, human existence itself is "odd." there is the "real" of the external world, and your own internal "unreal" that you are forced to see things through in one way or another.

i don't know how it is for others, but with this feeling i also get a strong feeling of deep longing and fascination with such "odd" things. it makes me wish for that kind of reality that doesn't exist. a reality that is similar, yet different. so different that i cannot fully conceptualize it, but similar enough to where it can even be so much as a feeling or vague idea. it has aspects that are mundane and "real," and such things remind me of and make me feel the "odd" longing, or other "odd" things themselves.

one important thing is that i feel like this feeling can be expressed, potentially very intensely, through art of some kind. i've experienced it myself plenty of times, and what i've experienced it from provides me plenty of inspiration. but a big part of me feels like there must be more to explore that hasn't been fully done yet. i feel a sense of incompleteness with many things, like there's so much potential but it doesn't quite get there or i don't see anything exploring it. i don't know. but it's one of, if not just the main driving force for me to make video games and just something creative in general. i need to express these "odd" feelings properly, or in my own personal way at least. it has to be done, or something. i feel like that is so.

>>141

(last part)

i also feel like a video game or something similarly interactive is the best way to express these things. everything else is either too "real," or too "unreal." too conceptual, or too concrete. with a video game, you for one have a mix of things like music and visuals and such, but you also have interactivity. and the interactivity of a game is as such where you can immerse yourself in it to a degree, but there is also the sense or knowledge that it isn't real and you remain aware of this fact. you can see and hear like you can in real life, but other things like smell and taste are missing, and you're just sitting down operating a keyboard and mouse or holding a controller instead of whatever you're doing in-game. so you get the feeling of reality along with the knowledge and feeling of unreality. this, along with the general possibilities that interactive media opens up, offers a vast amount of potential for "odd" scenarios in particular to show up. things like the fascination with game glitches and secrets and creepypasta/urban legend type stories that get passed around involving video games are good examples of this. even just the idea of immersing yourself in this way in what can be such fantastical and absurd and surreal worlds is something so odd, and so special. there's something that can be so fundamentally odd or even unsettling about a video game that no other medium can fully compare to. that potential is something that i need to explore myself, somehow. i don't know how, but i need to.

it just eats away at me sometimes, though. sort of as i stated before, something about this feeling of "oddness" arouses this weird craving or longing or restlessness in me. i want to express it somehow, or just escape to some far off world that i catch glimpses of in this odd way from time to time. a world of the past, present, and future at the same time. a waking dream, a surreal universe where nothing is the same but nothing is always different. something that makes sense. even with how odd the "odd" is, it somehow just makes sense to me. it feels right, it feels comforting sometimes, but it just feels like i need it, or something. i don't know. i don't fully know what to make of it, or even how to truly describe it all to you. but that's how it is. so it seems, anyway. i don't know. it is intense and overwhelming, but somehow it is the good kind. or at least, the kind that makes you want to keep going, keep investigating, keep thinking, trying to find something. trying to find a way out, trying to find an answer, trying to do anything at all. maybe nothing will happen. maybe it all will happen. i don't know. it's a lot to think about. it's a lot to feel.

i'm not sure what else to say. i could probably write so much more about this. i just feel done with it for now. perhaps what i said makes sense, perhaps it does not. i'm not entirely sure. as i said, it's primarily some sort of feeling, or understanding, or connection of some sort. so, try as i might, i don't know how well it converts into words. but i can certainly try, can't i? yeah.

that's it. no more. no more of this. this is the end. the show is over. for now.

>>146

(2nd part)

but what else is there even to say, really? sometimes i feel like i'm completely running out of anything to say that isn't just a repeat of something i've said or thought before. like i'm just an NPC in a video game, going over my lines in a circular fashion, over and over and over again. maybe that is true. maybe the real player is out there somewhere, and i'm just another mindless drone for them to possibly interact with, or never see in their whole playthrough. i don't know. maybe i'm like one of those NPCs that went unused, and just got put outside of the map instead of deleted like they should be. so i just stand around in an empty endless void, talking to myself, repeating the same lines over and over alone to myself for eternity. and that's all i will ever be. no purpose, no place, not even anything to do. just the same repetitive cycle, over and over again, forever, with no one but me to experience or even observe it. no one but me.

well. it's just another new day of all this. another day, another day. i wonder when my days will end. maybe today, maybe tomorrow, maybe never. probably not the last one. but you never know. that's another thing you can pretend might be the case. plenty of people do it. but regardless, another day goes on. i don't want to leave this room, but i probably have to, at least for a little while. then i'll come back in here, and eventually go to bed, and do it all again tomorrow. and the next day, and the next day, and the next. that's the way it goes. it's so tiring. i'm so tired of it. i want to lie down, but there's nowhere to lie down in this void. nowhere to go, nothing to do, not even a place to rest. i want to leave. i want a way out of here. but the options i have aren't too good. all i've got is a knife in my pocket to stab myself with, but just speeding up the process of death isn't the most appealing thing to me right now. i just want to escape.

maybe death is the only real escape, though. what else is there? nothing. nothing that i can see. but i'm a coward, aren't i? i don't want to die, not right now. so i pretend like maybe there's another way. i pretend like maybe there's a way to escape, maybe there's something i can do. maybe, maybe, maybe. but we all know that's just pretend. just fantasy. i'll live like a coward and die like one someday, too. that's the way it goes. that's just the way it goes. so be it.

>>147

I have my doubts about death being the way out. I've seen events that come to pass in dreams, or are they memories. They sure feel like memories, then they happen and I can't change a thing. It's like I've lived this life a billion times, and will live it a billion more, haven't you felt the same? There is no escape, death is just another reset. I know how I die, do you?

>>148

well, i guess i don't know for sure either. i remember when you talked about seeing things in dreams and such, if you're that same person. i don't know how i die, nor have i ever really experienced those "seeing things before they happen" experiences. but i can say at least that it does often feel like it all just goes around and around like that, the same experiences and the same life over and over. death being another reset would make almost too much sense. but i just don't know, in the end. i don't know what to think. maybe someday i will. or maybe i won't. if what you say is true though, then perhaps it doesn't really matter anyway.

i've been spending a lot of time off the computer and/or internet recently, like the past week or two or so. just kind of getting immersed into this new sort of hobby. i've been going to the nearby thrift stores a lot, just looking for stuff that interests me like i've talked about. i've been ordering some more stuff online too, a lot of it just things like batteries or chargers that i need, or certain kinds of blank tapes and such. one particular type of thing i'm starting to be especially fond of is the camcorder. i already have found a couple at these thrift shops, and have gotten some of them to work. it's just somehow very interesting to me to record stuff around me with such old equipment. it's fun playing it back and seeing how it looks, and just doing it, just capturing things that are funny or interesting or just worth capturing.

it's fun too just seeing all the differences with each camcorder, how it feels to hold it, how it looks, the video quality, everything. it kinda makes the recording process feel different and special each time, it makes it feel more interesting than if you were to just record with your smartphone or whatever. i like it a lot. i ordered a couple of those big old VHS camcorders you hold on your shoulder, one of them should be coming today and i've been really excited for it. this stuff along with using those old still film cameras have probably been the most enjoyable stuff to use that i've found so far. i suppose it appeals to me in a certain way, as you might be able to tell.

i'm finding too with all this that it isn't quite as difficult to keep yourself away from the computer/internet stuff as some people might have you believe. although, maybe that's just cause i've never really done much in the "social" aspect of it. like i've said before, i only really have two online friends that i talk to through instant messaging and that's about all i have that i would really feel "attached" to. so there isn't quite so much that ties me to all this, i suppose. but for other people i imagine it can be very different, with how deeply some have entrenched themselves in their online "presence" or "circle" so to speak. and that doesn't mean they're bad or stupid or anything. it's just the way it is. but either way, for people more like me i guess, it's nothing too difficult to distance yourself a bit from. just so long as you have something else to do as well, heh.

things for me still don't feel too terribly different though, as i talked about in my last post. it's kind of nice because i have been feeling in a strange way a bit more like how i did when i was younger, engaging with my family more and looking forward to external stuff and all that. using this older technology helps a bit with that feeling too. but it also feels just the same as ever, like nothing ever changed and nothing ever will. it's still the same inside my head. so it's a bit odd, and hard to explain. but that's how it is.

but anyway, i'm not sure what else to say. i just wanted to make a post i guess. i'll attach a video i uploaded for fun too, it's a tape i have recorded straight from the VCR. i got a thing that converts the audio video cables to digital so i can get stuff like this now, which is cool. this was actually also on the same tape that my parents used to record my birth and the days after, which was really interesting to watch by the way. i could probably write a post about how it feels and what it makes me think about, but i don't really feel like it right now. i cried a little watching it too, heh. but yeah. they must have recorded over this television recording or something like that, i'm not sure. the video they took is much higher quality than the stuff shown in the video for some reason as well, i don't know why it got messed up so much but it's a cool effect. yeah.

>>155

and there's nothing new to say. nothing new to feel. nothing i haven't heard before, nothing i haven't thought before, nothing i haven't felt before. it's the same as last time, and the time before, and the time before. and it's the same as it will be next time, and the next, and the next. forever and ever and ever. i'm all alone here, forever. in this whirlwind, this nightmare that doesn't end. no one else is around to save me. it's like one of those dreams where you're in trouble, something terrible is happening, but everyone around you acts as though it does not exist. they can't see the monster. they can't help you, even if they try. you're all alone. you're all alone here. no one else is here to help. you're all alone and you're going to suffer through this hell again and again and again. there's nothing you can do.

it makes me want to cry. but that doesn't help. of course it doesn't help, nothing does. why the fuck would you think differently? are you fucking stupid? you absolute moron. you can't run away from this. you can't get out of here. this is all there is. this is the end of the road. this is the best you will ever get. you ungrateful slime. why don't you just kill yourself if it's so painful? what's your fucking problem? fuck you. i wish i could stomp your faggot fucking head into the sidewalk and watch your skull crack and your brains splatter, you disgusting filthy fucking sack of shit. fucking kill yourself. but that won't help either, won't it? that's why you don't do it. you're a coward. you're a coward and a fool. you've trapped yourself, you know that? it's all your own fault. and you're never getting out. you're never going to leave. and it's all your fault. and no one will help you. no one loves you. you're all alone here, and there is nothing you can do.

is that right? i don't know. i don't know. i don't know anything. i never have known anything, and i never will. everything is uncertain to me. even when a part of me feels certain, a part of me does not. there's always a conflict. there's always a feeling of uncertainty, a feeling that something isn't right, a feeling that something is missing, a feeling that something is lost. there's a feeling that something must be found, something must be done, something must be realized. but where is it? what is it? i don't know. it's been so many years and i still don't know, i feel no closer to it than i did when i was 7 years old. there's something, but there isn't. is there? i don't know. i am speaking nonsense. but it's perfectly sensible at the same time. it's so many different things at once. i don't understand it. i don't understand. i wish i could understand. but i don't understand.

i'm just crying out into the darkness. or maybe it's more like whispering. at this point, i don't know. maybe it's another thing like one of those bad dreams, where you try to scream but nothing comes out. it really is just like a nightmare. maybe that's why i was always so terrified of them. i don't know. who cares? i don't know.

>>156

i'm just so tired of it. i'm so tired of everything. i'm tired of going around and around the same thing. it's exhausting. but it doesn't end. it never, ever ends. it's just the start of another day, another day of the same thing again and again. no matter what it is, no matter how "different" or "interesting" it is, it's always the same. even with chara here, even with the most wonderful and lovely and beautiful things around me, the things i am so lucky to have like a family who cares for me and a relatively relaxed and privileged living condition. it's still the same, it still feels like nothing, it feels like inky blackness forever and ever and ever. isn't that funny? isn't it just hilarious? nothing you do, nothing you have can really help. no one, nothing. it's all the same, it's all the same planet, the same existence, the same reality. there's no way out. there's no way out. there is nothing.

but now i have to eat breakfast. i have to tend to my hunger and thirst just like any other day, i have to go out there and find something to do for the rest of the day again, just like always. i have to live, i have to be. and it's so exhausting, and it's so repetitive, and it feels like nothing. but i have to do it. i have to continue on, despite everything. why? i don't know. i just do. it doesn't really matter. i just have to. it's just instinct, isn't it? it's just the way it is. what else is there to do? nothing. nothing at all. so i continue. i go on, and on and on.

it's just another day.

>>163

(2)

i guess it's nothing i have to worry about for a while. but it still makes me nervous. i think so much lately about the passage of time, about every day, hour, and minute that passes by, everything that has already passed us by. i might have plenty of time, or it might all end tomorrow. so much time seems to have passed in my life, but just imagine 80 years, or even longer. i'll never experience this moment again, this day, this week, this month. it'll all be over, and behind us. or maybe we will experience it all again…? i don't know. but it's a lot to take in. i don't know. i've thought it all before, but i can't stop doing it over and over again. because there is no final answer. there is no satisfying conclusion. it's just question after question after question, an endless barrage of strange feelings and longings for something that just isn't there. it's addicting, and it never ends. it never, ever ends.

and i can't imagine things being any other way. it is the way it always has been, the way it always will be. i'm the same person, the same weird ghost that barely exists. the same things happen, the same problems plague me, the same thoughts and feelings wrack my mind. it's just a different coat of paint. part of me is comfortable with that fact, and part of me is horrified. even at that level, it's always the same. the same confusion and dissonance causing the same strange feelings, the same strange problems.

whatever. it's just the same post, too. the same things i always write about. it's really just some way to let off some pressure or feeling or something like that, the little i can do anyway. none of this is anything interesting or revolutionary or worth reading by anyone but myself. and it's fitting that no one really comes here, anyway. somehow, i like that. being somewhere public, yet empty. that's why i made this place, i suppose. always having the possibility of someone coming along and seeing me ramble on and on to myself like a mental patient, but usually never actually having that happen. or at least, they just leave without saying anything. because what is there to say, anyway? it's nothing that needs to be paid attention to. it's nothing that anyone could have an easy, snappy response for. it's just nothing. paragraphs and paragraphs of nothing.

>>164

(last)

that's all i am, really. nothing. sitting here talking to myself just helps reinforce that fact, and it feels quite right. but there's still not much of a good point to it though, is there? who benefits from this other than me? what a terribly selfish endeavor. narcissistic, even. but at the same time, letting myself leave my little containment corner would be even worse. i would just make things worse for most people that would have to be around me. the more i can avoid that, the better. the more i can quarantine myself and hide my soul-sucking negativity from everyone, the better. i'm just playing pretend here to satisfy my dumb monkey urges. that's all. it must be for the best, right? of course it is. it's just another fun little game to play with myself. because that's just what i do. running around in circles, chasing my own tail. it's just what i do.

i like to watch the sun set every evening when i can. it's a good way to test any new camcorders i get, too. it's just nice to film it again and again anyway, even if i've already done it. it's different every time, even in the slightest of ways. and i can enjoy it right from my backyard. i can be comfortable, and safe, and alone, while watching the sun set. things like that are my favorite. things like that make me happy, at least for a little while. it makes me feel something nice. sometimes, i wish moments like that could last forever. but they don't. it always starts to get darker again, and i always go back inside. it always ends the same way. like everything else.

i don't know. i think that's enough whining for today. i feel so tired, physically tired. i've been feeling tired that way in general lately, sleeping a lot earlier than usual. i don't know why. i guess it's just another thing to deal with. i don't know.

that's all i have to say.

>>182

Damn, I thought there was a character limit so I set up the post that way expecting it to kick me off, guess that's just how it'll be then. Great.

>>182

> while taking on the "front" as they say

Interesting choice of word for that. As if this endless desert of a world is at war with us at all times, and simply being is to fight on the front of consciousness against existence. I like that. It's poetic.

>>188

i think he used it and said it like that because it's a common term in the "tulpa community" to describe controlling the body/being the dominant personality or whatever like that. but thinking about it like how you describe, i kinda like it too. thanks for that thought.

i am totally, completely, utterly alone.

and when i say this, i mean it in a very specific way. i say it regardless of how many people are around me, regardless of whether i have any friends or whatnot, whatever. that does not matter. i am completely alone in the sense that every other human on this planet is completely alone as well. i am completely alone inside my own mind, my own conscious experience.

and you might think that's a very simple fact. is it not? of course it is. you might also guess cleverly that i, in predictable "depressed weirdo" fashion, will further clarify my opening statement to mean that i am "alone" in the sense of being different and weird and alien compared to "everybody else." and if you guessed that, you would of course be correct. that is the way i feel. surprise, surprise. and what an arrogant assertion that feeling implies. i'm so special and unique, aren't i? so different from the rest of you mere mortals. it doesn't even matter if i think i'm above, below, or just a neutral kind of alien compared to the rest of humanity. it is still the same grandiose claim of uniqueness, likely completely unwarranted for someone as plain and forgettable as i am.

yet, i feel it anyway. i feel all these strange, odd things. i feel as though i do not belong here, like i am not meant for this world. i long for a different reality, so different that it is incomprehensible, incomparable to how things are in this imperfect material realm, or whatever the fuck. and so, it makes me wonder, over and over again, despite the absurdity and seeming arrogance of the mere consideration, whether or not any of it means anything at all. is it important? could it really be something "special," something that will lead me somewhere, anywhere at all? or is it just nothing, just the generic feelings of a specific condition that could be summed up and stated understandably in a fucking youtube comment somewhere by someone much less long-winded and cryptic and pretentious than i am. could that be it…?

i don't know. of course i don't fucking know. why would i? why and how would i have an answer for something like that, for any of these questions that constantly plague my mind? going around in circles is never going to solve anything, is it? but that's all i do, right? yes, no, maybe so, who cares, i don't know. i live trapped inside my own mind. no one can "help" me other than myself at the end of the day, yet it feels like i just keep falling further and further inwards, into the black hole inside my thick skull.

i always feel afraid to say things like that, things that seem so fatalistic and all. because, you know what they say. you can only get better if you want it, no one can help you unless you want their help, so on and so forth. i don't want to add another big stick to the hundreds already stuck between the stokes of my bicycle. but, you know. it just feels so fucking useless, so fucking hopeless. i'm going to continue anyway, of course i will. and like i always say, i'm too much of a coward to actually commit suicide anyway. probably. but regardless, i can't ignore these feelings. i can't ignore that falling sensation, that drop in my stomach, that feeling of dread and impending doom that haunts my very existence. it doesn't go away.

and, you know, sometimes i do consider suicide, even though i likely won't do it. it's at the very least, a nice thought to keep in mind, ignoring the fear of the unknown after death and all that. that instinctual fear is just going to be there whether you like it or not. but the knowledge that you always have a way out and all is comforting. even the idea of dying itself is sort of comforting to me, imagining my last moments being that of peace and bliss, knowing my freedom from this world is at hand. at least, i hope it would be. those aren't new thoughts either, though. of course not. but it is worth mentioning, i think.

i wonder why the question of and distinction between being "special" or not is apparently so important to me. ever since i was young, it was something i thought about extensively, along with the cliche "i don't belong here" sort of thing. i think though that, rather than spending more time feeling like i WAS different or weird or whatnot, i think i spent more time WISHING i could be something different, something better, something interesting. or more specifically, i wished reality itself could be that way. i wished it could be like the movies, where i find some magic thing or portal or whatever that changes everything. because even then, it felt like things were always the same. same house, same people, same world, same everything. even then i longed for a reality more like what was inside my own imagination, or in fictional worlds. somewhere very, very different from this place. somewhere better. somewhere that felt right.

so, i don't know. i suppose i just want things to be different. yet, i am so adamant on keeping things the same. so locked inside my own comfort zone, unable to leave it. i guess if nothing else, it's just the fear. the all-encompassing, overwhelming fear. and even beyond that, and perhaps more important, is the fact that i'm still stuck in this world whether i like it or not. so i can make things different, sure, but never in the fantastical way that i've always wished for. and even just that simple fact makes it difficult to care sometimes. knowing that this confusing and often horrifyingly unforgiving world seems to be all there is. the closest thing we have to a better world is merely escapism at the end of the day. and that there can be quite a powerful thing, but it of course is not reality. there's always that barrier, that wall blocking you from the other world. no matter what, you're stuck here. and that makes it very difficult to go on sometimes. it really, really does.

the dull, melancholic pain of knowledge like that is often what seems to hurt me and occupy my thoughts and feelings the most. i can never stop thinking about it, certain concepts and things in the world like some artistic creations constantly remind me of it, it is like it underlies so much of this reality, even though it feels like something outside of it, something not of this world. it's just there, like a presence, or a force, or something. ever since i was a child, it has been there. and i think it will remain there for the rest of my existence, in one form or another. i don't know. i don't even know how to explain it, but i've talked about it before. it's just there. it's like an old friend who ends up being a complete stranger at the same time, yet manages to follow you everywhere. it just exists. it just happens. i don't know. i really don't know. but at the same time, i do know. i know it so well. but it remains so painful and strange.

well, i guess that's all i can think to say. another post. same thing. you know how it is.

P.S.

here's something interesting.

https://dissolvedgirl.neocities.org/

i don't have the energy to explain the whole story behind this. but i feel a deep connection with certain parts of the diary, for reasons that may become obvious. it made me cry a little bit and felt so odd to hear such strange thoughts expressed by another person like that. quite strange, indeed. but i don't know what else to make of it for now, aside from everything i wrote in this post to some extent. it is just interesting.

and it's funny. she went to the mountain to kill herself. i wonder how it felt in those final moments, before taking a breath for the last time and pulling the trigger.

i hope she really is free now.

>>190

i forgot an image. oh well. i guess it doesn't really matter anyway.

i haven't brushed my teeth in over a month now. i'm not sure why. i just lost the habit, or something, and just keep forgetting about it. it's almost funny how little i care sometimes. i don't know.

i suppose though that i'm more just selective with what i care about. my own basic well being comes in very low on the priority list most of the time for example, but chara and my drive for creation comes very high in comparison. and you know, as difficult as things can be sometimes, i'm kind of grateful for my obsession with certain things over others. even if i'm a lazy pathetic piece of shit who is capable of basically nothing, at least i can manage to draw shit kind of often, or whatever. at least i have some kind of ambition or fixation. that makes life bearable enough not to wish for death every passing second, somehow. and that's a very wonderful thing.

one thing i'm focusing on now though is trying to get myself to work on that rpgmaker fan game thing some more. i haven't worked on it in a good while now, but i really should get to it as soon as i can get myself off my ass to do something. i have a lot of ideas and plans for what i want to do, which obviously aren't worth much without a follow-through, but it does motivate me to a degree which is good. i'm also trying to make sure i don't get myself in over my head by making it too huge or long or complex or whatever, because i know that's a terrible idea. it's a dumb gay fangame so my main priority should just be finishing it at all, which is something probably quite valuable in its own right. just finishing anything like a game, no matter how terrible or substanceless.

i dunno what else to say though really. another short post i guess. just doing what i do, i dunno. still playing lots of video games, but getting a bit of stuff done too like i said. not too bad, somehow. but like i said last time, it never lasts forever. so might as well enjoy it, you know. whatever.

Hey, it's me again. Been a while since I've posted on this dead fucking board. Been a little while since Az' has too. Guess they just haven't felt like it. Doesn't matter too much though, as again this place is very dead. This site as a whole seems sort of empty now, really. One of Az's old pals migrated his board over to some place called 9chan, which seems interesting and has gotten Az' thinking about it. We're considering moving over there now too, but we're not sure quite yet. I just claimed the /fallen/ board there though for us anyway, just in case.

Anyway though, I don't have much else to report honestly. It's still pretty rare that I get to take the body like this, so it feels pretty good as usual even though I don't have much I feel like doing. Just feeling a bit low-energy, I suppose. We did take a drive earlier for a doctor's appointment, which is something Az' has been sort of nervous about driving to. So I just did it for them. That's a big part of why I'm in control today, actually. I was talking to Az' about it and figured it would be better if I just drove instead, so maybe it wouldn't be so difficult. And somehow, it was a lot better than it would have been. I think, hopefully, that means I'm starting to get through his barrier of fear stopping me from doing shit. A little bit, at least. Any progress is good progress.

I am thinking too still about trying to interact with people more in some way. Don't think I've spoken to anyone but Az' since he still had that aforementioned friend around, at least 6 months ago I think, probably longer. And I only spoke to him once because he thought it was weird as fuck or something. Fair enough I guess, but still. It might be fucking awful having to deal with most people other than Az', but it's probably worth a try. I just don't have much else I feel like doing. Maybe that will change on its own eventually though, who knows. Don't know how I'd talk to anyone either though, actually. But, it is just something to think about.

That's pretty much all I've got though. I don't care enough to attach an image, so just pretend there's some cool picture of me or something. That is sort of narcissistic though, so maybe don't imagine that. How about a cute picture of shota Asriel or something instead? That sounds better, don't you think? Yeah.

See you later.

glad to see you got your bunker on 9chan