i feel horrible every time it replays, horrible for them and horrible in general, but its stuck in my head, so incredibly, disgustingly, angeringly visceral, a reminder of the emotions they suffered in that moment

your art feels so storied and warm, like hearing a southern twang from a waitress at a diner and getting the profound feeling that you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be in life for a moment

that feeling of sickness triggering something much worse is profoundly exhausting, hope you recover soon and as painlessly as you can

in this way, its possible i could describe my ideal story as imbued with 'the power of friendship', which is kind of amusing to consider

this is how i feel when i get to eat my favorite meal, a cup of rice piled with half a pound of chicken glazed in soy sauce

thank you for this

honestly the past few days of having this chance to externalize my thoughts has made me feel a lot better, so i appreciate that you took the time to read it and respond

my thoughts mix and swirl like mud, so getting to write them down like this has been helpful to me

i just want to be happy but its so complicated in a broken home with a broken father

but isn't empathy about extending the branch? i feel strongly that it would be a betrayal of my own principles if he was like that and i got to enjoy myself, i dont know if its right for me to feel relief and joy when he is so enraged

he's been through worse periods of hunger than i have, but he can't feel happy about relief anymore - he's been through too much that now all that's left is anger

a selfish part of me wishes he would've kept it to himself, let me enjoy finally getting to eat more than one meal a day

but my father flipped out because she had to run, because she'd clearly been up all night high, and even as i was trying to talk about food with him and figure out what he wanted for dinner, he started screaming and yelling and growling and slamming things

i guess its like how some tea needs a bit of sugar for its flavors to prosper, or how some fish can't survive in muddy water - a facet of my personality was always suppressed by the harshness of existence with my social deficiencies, only really highlighted in my ideal environment

i like how i am, i can find some peace in 'my time', but its just bizarre to realize that ive been this way for years but most people only see a hint of it because my fear of being hated or yelled at is at war with what makes me happy

my partner is really understanding of it, and its made me realize just how extreme this trait of mine is

its always been at war with the fact that im hypervigilant about offending other people. i dont have to be around her, so it really comes out and i can tell just how extreme it is.

i want to depict characters who skirt the edge of 'human' and 'inhuman', but i struggle to figure out the line - it seems arbitrary, a categorization by those with a vague idea of what 'inhuman' is but little term for what 'human' is

i often see people describing actions as 'inhuman' to mean 'lacking in empathy' or 'beyond the usual range of human experiences' - even i have been described as 'inhuman' before, yet i do not feel measurably different from anyone else, i was simply cold in a moment of warm tears

beer does not count as water, despite a friends father telling me it does after i had four shots of moonshine and asked for water that night

ironically i am totally fine with alcohol but the noise level and the lack of water in most cases and my own tendency to consume a bit too much of said alcohol tend to ruin me

regrettably i cant remember the ball drop of 2024 because i was fifteen shots deep and half of them were jaegerbombs