Problematic

Originally- Awkward Conversations and Sliding Doors were going to be two separate posts. I now realize I should have named the post that, it would have made more sense...but there's no going back. The internet is forever. Or until the nuclear fallout...whichever comes first I guess. Awkward Conversations was actually going to be about, I suppose, 5 different guys I was talking to at the same time? One of whom I completely forgot about, and feel pretty guilty for that. Only two were actually mentioned: Robert and Bastien. The other two: Emre and Ardeshir (Arde) were unfortunately not as prominent characters by the time I finished the post. Time seems to be moving in a break-up pace, and there's no accounting for when anything is occurring and what will be relevant anymore. There's now a new batch, of which only one really stands out: Oliver, who is a nice little IT guy and very talkative and perhaps the only guy I've ever thought looks better without glasses. I should ...

I have learned some things, and there are some things I am still trying to figure out. I have learned I cannot take my anti-anxiety medication right after taking my anti-psychotics because it makes me too sleepy. I have also learned that if I take my anxiety medication in a situation I will eventually become comfortable in and drink I will get very sleepy. I have also learned that I should perhaps not disclose being bipolar in early conversations with guys. I should probably not act bipolar in early conversations with guys, either...but it's not like you can catch it. I am still trying to figure out how to stay awake after taking my anti-psychotics. I do like saying anti-psychotics. Even though, I feel in the grand scheme of things, I am not particularly psychotic. Perhaps a little paranoid. Maybe delusional. I am not out there stripping, grabbing people, licking things and talking obsessively about the marmots coming for your wires (because we are all actually cyborgs)...even if t...

Ok... Some context to yesterday's bitter proposition that everyone be a little more suicidal. First, obviously, but perhaps not obviously, general feelings of helplessness or unwavering sadness suck and I do not want anyone to experience them. I also don't mean to trigger anyone. Or help feed into a cycle of self-harm. I wouldn't go so far as to say I don't condone self-harm, because that feels judge-y...but I'm not advocating for it as a positive coping mechanism. The relief is pretty temporary, and then, at least for me, it kind of creates a new source of anxiety. While things are all fresh and red, even through the healing process, my body is a curious thing that I see from a distance. It's fascinating. Maybe because something that was wrong is fixing itself? I can't really describe it better than a sense of relief to be outside of myself somehow. And I write about it probably to work through why I do it...like examining the process might make it ea...

I feel so acutely my personal responsibility. Then I shirk it. I spend a lot of my time arguing that chance is a much bigger factor in people's lives than personal responsibility. People can do everything right, never smoke and still get lung cancer. People can do everything right and still just end up in the right place at the wrong time. People can do everything wrong and succeed. Down to the start and the only thing I took away from the Biology class I narrowly succeeded in- Darwinism is often misrepresented. DNA is the greatest game of roulette from which there are never winners. You're going to have some protein fuck up something, whether that develops into a perceptible hindrance is all chance. You could also get something that makes life easier for you, but that doesn't mean, down to the essence of what is survivable about you, there is nothing wrong with you. And that's fine. That's perfect and an equalizing concept. Humanity, unlike all other forms of lif...

I like to think that there are few people who are truly malicious. In a general sense, I think it's probably better for everyone if bad things are just a mixture of woefully careless behaviour and passion. The intent is seldom there to do harm. At least, perhaps, consistently? I did a little reading for a law school event that was about intent- and the brush of legal intent is a large one. It is reasonable that we would want a wider stroke to work with, because criminality can be so nuanced. Pain is so personal. If intent were terribly difficult to trace then the legal system would probably be even more uneven in its distribution of justice. As individuals, outside and around this we can read further into the intent. That's probably how things should work through- a path that narrows toward empathy and rehabilitation. So, it is my belief that there are not as many people in the world who truly do things with the sole purpose of amusing themselves as all the dating profiles ...

I was going to complain about talking to people on Bumble BFF and it's arguably worse to find yourself unable to carry on a dialogue with someone who is not trying to fuck you, but my air- conditioner is not working...so, being in Texas, specifically Houston, in the summer...this is obviously all I can think about. I'm going to die here. This swamp is slowly creeping into my house through the cracks in the windows and the doors. This place is a hell-hole. I take back making any attempts at pretending this is a livable environment. This is the cusp of global warming, people. We're going to have to start making the Dakotas work, and you can blame your parents and grandparents for not giving a shit and forcing us all back to Iowa. My brain is literally melting. It will soon resemble the swamp. I need to move to Chicago. I can buy thicker blankets, I can't buy less sun. I could shoot it down though. I don't know if anyone has ever considered that as our answer to ...

I hate defending Houston. I hate it. And I find myself doing it a lot. This is a recurring topic, I know. It's a recurring conversation. It's a recurring thought that Houston is like a little sister and only I should be able to hate her as much as I do. It's her misfortune that I grew up with her, because I'd probably like her if I didn't. There's too much history. Statistically, I think, I don't know because I didn't pass that class, there is more opportunity for a chance encounter with someone I never wanted to see again. As it is I have to hear names I'd rather pretend never crossed my path with more regularity than I can endure. Every boyfriend is a little Voldemort. Which is also a reference I don't like making, but I can't think of another person we all know shouldn't be named. Hitler, maybe? But that's too extreme. My pain is only like a fictional genocide. My pain is not the deep. I'm sorry. It's not even pain,...