Fear in okay

I'm cautious when I say that I'm okay, for two reasons. One reason is that I don't want to deceive people who would like to listen. If I don't actually feel well, those people who are bothering to understand should be given the truth. The other reason is that I don't want to deceive myself. Even if I do feel okay, I don't want to say it and then think that I can do without things that have helped me.

Yesterday, I wrote that I'm okay. While I think that still stands, I must admit that I don't feel as okay today. Maybe I see that statement as a relatively long-term consideration, reaching back into the recent past and extending into the near future. If I say that I'm okay, I believe that I've been okay, and I expect to continue being okay.

I'm not particularly worried about how I feel right now. I just had a few suicidal thoughts today. They weren't too intense. I didn't seriously consider them. Nothing happened today that should have triggered those thoughts, but there doesn't really have to be justification. Still, perhaps the justification is that those thoughts serve as reminders to take care of myself, after my declaration yesterday. Reminders that I can't get ahead of myself, or those sorts of thoughts may become more of an issue. That's all.

However, I'm still confident that I'm okay. I hope that doesn't change, but I will stay alert. For the most part, I've gone through this all hoping that I'll at least be just as well the next day. I seem to have passed that uncomfortable state I was in a month ago. I'm relieved and satisfied about that.

Move on is the wrong advice

That's what I've learned from all of this. It is hardly ever right to just move on. Maybe it's best to define what I think moving on means. I think it's leaving behind, moving away, forgetting, detaching. However, the fact is that nobody can truly move on from their past or their present. They can lie about it, but that doesn't change it. Maybe people can move on from their future. Perhaps that's the only type of moving on that I accept, because the future is prone to change.

I'm not sure that things necessarily happen for a reason. That doesn't mean that we should assume that events are meaningless or simply take them as tragedies. Life may be a big, written, sectioned, timed test. The best strategy is to first try to answer the question; if that takes too long, come back to it later. Other questions may even help reveal the answer to the one you've set aside. There are some questions that won't be given until you're given the next section. Try to answer all the questions in a section before you're handed the next, or the incomplete answers will pile up. As later questions can help to answer prior ones, prior questions often build up to later answers; don't assume that all answers will simply come in time.

I feel like that metaphor is more complicated than what I actually tried to get across. Instead of moving on from an event that you consider to be an issue, try to find the lessons in and solution to it. If you can't see the solutions now, set the issue aside but do not forget it. Consider the issue regularly, but not incessantly. There are other events that you need to tend to daily. Even if you've come to a conclusion, don't be afraid to reevaluate and reaffirm it. It is not a bad thing to think, especially with a wonderful mind like yours.

The biggest difference between life and a written test is that your answers to events in life, or lack thereof, affect other lives. When my answer was, "End it with her, because she's not loyal enough," it changed your life. When your answer was, "Don't stay by him, because he's making me worse," it changed my life. Learning from life takes a lot of effort. Resolving issues takes a lot of effort. Moving on can take effort, but without teaching nor resolving. It's a waste, leaving useless blanks.

Your solution to my distress is a huge blank that you left. I can't make you fill it in. I can only ask you to look at it.

I'm okay

When I was in high school, somebody came to me and asked, "Why are you always smiling?" I blinked and said I didn't know. I often saw a boy on campus who was always frowning. I wondered to myself, "What's he always frowning about?" I never talked to him, though. I figured it wasn't my business.

When I first took the plunge into depression, I stopped smiling. I wasn't comfortable with them anymore. I felt like every smile I gave was too ingenuine to exist. And I did fake many, many smiles. When I was being genuine, I was always frowning. I only felt comfortable while frowning. That must be the answer for those questions asked years ago. Why was I always smiling? Because that's what I felt comfortable with. Why was he always frowning? Because that's what he felt comfortable with. Those were our genuine expressions.

Saying that I was okay or fine was always a lie. I was afraid of lies. Even when I was faking a smile, I usually couldn't bring myself to say that I was fine or okay. I'd be very vague, even preferring other lies. "You know," I'd say to friends who I knew had no idea. There came a time when that passed, when I let myself handle the big lie.

However, I feel that saying that I'm okay is not so deceitful anymore. I can often say it and mean it. I can also truthfully say that I'm not okay. I know that I'm still not where I was when we were together. I don't expect to be that okay without you. I'm relieved that I am some part okay, though, and that part is big enough that saying so doesn't feel like a lie. I'm glad that my smiles feel genuine too, because I can be happy. It doesn't matter that my private frowns still ring true.

When I'm not paying attention, I still don't smile. However, I don't frown as severely as I used to. You can say that my expression is often neutral, even. Is such unhappiness the reason other people don't idly smile? Is it a part of life, inevitable even, to experience emotional trauma? Even as I regret losing you, I end up being thankful for this experience. I understand something entirely different. You can even say that I'm a person now. If I could change the past, I would still change it. Since what happened has happened, though, I have only our future to look toward. I will try to use everything I've learned.

Accidentally long shower

You know I take long baths. That's especially true when you're with me. Sorry, showers. You get mildly annoyed when I call it a bath. But yeah, I went in this evening around 9:00 and spent an hour and a half cleaning up. Forget climate change, I'm probably the main cause of the state drought.

Of course, you're not the only reason that I take long showers. That has been a habit of mine since long before I met you. Another reason today was because of my hair. For years I'd just let loose hair come out in the shower and down the drain, then be surprised and annoyed when the drain clogged. You taught me to stick the loose hair on the wall to dispose of later. Thoroughly removing my loose hair can take a while some days. You didn't have that problem because your hair is actually shorter than mine.

Since you don't have the aversion to loose hair that I do, you'd ball up our hair in your hand right after we showered. I used to use a paper towel to collect the hair. Wasteful, but that's how I felt comfortable doing it. Now I wait until the hair has dried and just wipe if off the wall into my hand.

I was also thinking. I was thinking about what I really wanted to say tonight, and how to say it. I did come up with a few topics, but as usual I don't know how to word most of them. Brainstorming was one of the main reasons I decided to step into the water now instead of midnight, actually. I probably should have taken an actual bath, for water efficiency. I do feel a bit bad about an hour and a half of wasted water. I didn't expect to take quite that long, though.

So, in a way, you can say that you're still a reason for me to take long showers. I wonder if you'll mind showering together when we're friends again? After we broke up, you once had me stay in your bathroom while you showered so we could chat, even undressing in front of me. Your reasoning was that I've done more than just see that body so there was nothing to hide. I love the way you think.

I wonder how reading this will make you feel. There isn't a particular way that I want you to feel about my little shower stories. There isn't a reason to write about this to begin with, but I don't see a good reason not to. Something brought you to this sentence, at any rate. If you bothered to read this, I'm sure you'll bother to read another message.

Both weakness and strength

Weak, to avoid death.
Strong, to embrace life.
Each at their own time,
in their rightful place.

I'm saving myself

Let me clear this up right now. I understand exactly why you're gone. You stayed by me for a short while, dragging me away from suicide. On the beach, you told me that we could be romantically involved again. You took that back. You told me we could be best friends. I tried to just accept that, but I doubted my will to live without your love. I realized that I was saying too much to you for nothing. I went to therapy. It helped me. But it was too late. That evening, you stopped talking to me.

You're gone because I didn't improve quickly enough. I thought I needed you to be even closer to even keep breathing. I was wrong. Look at me now, months later. I am alive, even though I'm probably dead to you. Look at me now. I'm managing and even enjoying life, even though you're not lessening my burdens. Look at me. The only place you are in my life is in my heart, yet I'm still using you to get better.

I think that perhaps I'm as well as I'll ever be without you here. I think I can push myself through this world without you here. However, I don't want to. The reason I'm still going is so that I'm well enough for you to take my side again. I'm aiming to be able enough that you can hold my hand without having me drag you down. This hurts. My feelings hurt.

I am bleeding from innumerable slices across the skin of my life. The apathy of depression is a drug that removes the pain, but also removes the grip from my hands. My will is a hot iron that I use to cauterize my wounds. To keep my life from bleeding out, I cannot just dose up on apathy. But endure too many burns at once and I'll black out, dropping the iron, while wounds open up again. Nobody else can hold that iron. Nobody else can close my wounds. The most anyone can do to help is keep me awake. The voice I hear loudest is yours.

The words from those who are placing themselves right next to me sound raspy and puny. Yet even just the echo of you in my heart chimes clearly, though distantly. If you were with me, holding my hand, I could stay awake, perhaps even burn all these wounds shut. If your echo has brought me this far, then maybe your presence would bring me the rest of the way. That's why I have this to say.

Please. I think I've done enough on my own.

I was her friend

There was a time when she and I texted comfortably. I don't have any of those texts anymore, since I had to reset my phone and the texts were too old for MightyText to keep in archive for free. There were a few topics we conversed on that I remember pretty clearly though.

We talked about religion. She told me that she is Wiccan, and I told her that I was Christian. Sounds like we have a huge difference in belief, but we don't. I believe it possible that she can light a candle with a snap of her fingers. More generally, we believe in magic. I think I brought up the time you threw a dalmation figurine at a glass and the figurine somehow ended up inside the glass. We both believe in spirits. I told her about the seance I held with you and our friends. She said that was more of a gypsy thing. What makes me particularly smile when remembering that conversation is that she thanked me for noting that it was a safe seance. Most Christians automatically label seances as unsafe and demonic regardless of method, and many teens who give seances a shot don't take precautions and do create a potentially dangerous situation. You can understand her relief in my position.

After you, my brother, and I watched Divergent in theaters, I remember texting her about it. As I recall, she's read the books. We talked about what factions we'd be in. She and I agreed that we'd fit into Erudite for our intelligence. However, I said that I probably wouldn't actually choose that faction. If Dauntless drops members through a series of rigorous tests of bravery and combat prowess, I'm sure Erudite would drop me for being lazy. I suggested that her laziness would threaten her too were she to join Erudite, especially because they'd probably have videogames available to them. She said the videogames would be seal the deal for her decision. Now I'm not sure whether I'd risk joining Erudite or give myself to Abnegation.

Finally, I remember a time when she confided in me. She told me that she was having an issue with how you were acting with her. I can't remember exactly what the issue was, but I don't want to remember precisely anyway. She talked to me about it at night while you were asleep. I listened to her, consoled her, talked about it. I fell asleep while texting, though. If you hadn't found out about that conversation, I probably wouldn't be talking about it now; I may have forgotten. But that morning, after having sex with me, you borrowed my phone to mess with some apps. The screen unlocked right to our conversation. You saw everything, even saw a text that she'd sent when I was asleep. You got very upset that we'd had this private conversation about you.

After we broke up, you tried to tell me that I didn't actually care about her. You said I was only interested in her body. No, she was a dear friend that I loved. She was a wonderful friend to me. Until the day she realized where her attractions lie. In retrospect, I shouldn't have been surprised at what she kept from me. I shouldn't have been upset with her. I shouldn't have transformed it into a test of loyalty for you. I expect her to never regard me as a friend again. Sometimes I think terrible things about her, too. However, when I look at the relationship she and I had as a whole, I still see her as a friend. She is still a person that I care about. She isn't an enemy for being a liar. She's imperfect like any human, like myself. She deserves nothing less than kindred regard.

K project

As with Blue Exorcist, the first episode of K didn't quite catch me. However, I have to admit that a scene from the preview at the end of it convinced me to continue immediately.

That girl is a cat, simply called Neko. She belongs to a schoolboy named Yashiro Isana. Yashiro, or Shiro for short, lives on an islet at the boarding school that occupies it. Every student he comes across, often to mooch food off of, likes him. His personality is subdued and kindred. All is normal at the near-future Japanese campus, with its cleaning bots that yell at trash to die, but then Shiro is asked to run some errands in town. There, he's attacked by hoodlums wielding red flames, and saved by a swordsman who battles not with his blade but with arms of midnight-blue energy extended from his own hands.

Can I take a moment to say how adorable this scene is? You should see the Shiro's face in the previous shot! Anyway, once the ship has begun to sail and the two get to a safe rooftop, the swordsman, known as the Black Dog, draws his sword on Shiro. A video a person took one night ended up having recorded him being shot to death. The shooter is a man who claims to be Yashiro Isana, the seventh, colorless king. The shooter looks exactly like Shiro as well. Kuroh has come to the conclusion thus that Shiro is an evil king and, by his master's orders, is determined to execute Shiro. But Shiro doesn't remember committing the crime.

I'm glad that a cat convinced me to continue this series. Of course, the cat alone would have driven me away from it. Combined with beautiful (blushing) boys, supernatural abilities, and mystery, though, Neko heightened my curiosity just to the point that I couldn't just stop watching. Immediately after the first episode, much more humor becomes apparent, starting with Shiro's handling of his execution. Relationships develop and are revealed. The workings of these powers and the concept of the kings are brought out in stages. And the soundtrack is swanky, though at some places incorrectly applied. There's a track played during a helicopter scene that's just so perfect the first time! But I'll let you get to that on your own. I'd rather give you the opening!

Judging by the opening songs of other anime you like, I think this is your thing. ^.^ And as you can see there's a plentiful cast of pretty boys. I'm wondering if you did a double-take, "Was that Axel?" Because that was my first thought upon seeing the Red King. Guess it's inevitable when you've got crimson, spiky hair and flame powers. Another quick note on franchises I've been reminded of. Factions and flame powers? Couldn't help but have Katekyo Hitman Reborn! pop into my head. Not that K should be compared to those two, really. This action-mystery anime that dresses scifi as supernatural should be regarded in its own domain. I'm very sure that you'll enjoy this anime when you put some time aside for it!

God could be depressed

It can be argued that recent times have been godless. Who knows how far you want to stretch "recent times" to encompass. There doesn't seem to have been any sort of divine intervention on a biblical scale. You and I know that there have been miracles, but many feel that so-called blessings aren't widespread enough. The general consensus appears to be that, for an all-powerful creator, God doesn't care to do enough.

My response to that is that we don't understand God. We can't hope to understand God. He acts beyond the bounds of our wisdom and comprehension. But here's a thought: maybe that's a problem. Many reject God's will. Some are ambivalent to it. People of the Book accept it. Who is there to truly understand God's will? Nobody. How many supposed followers are truly doing good for their fellow humans? Arguably not enough. And how does He feel about that?

Nobody understands. Nobody helps enough. Nothing you do is enough. You waste everything you're given. You scare and burden people. You're a killer. It's all your fault. The world would be better off without you.

Depressed people have so much potential. They can do so much when their depression isn't getting the best of them. A depressed God would make a lot of sense. It wouldn't be that He can't help, or that He has some grand plan. He'd simply be terribly discouraged from doing anything. What's the point of doing anything? Something always goes wrong. Someone always drags the world back down. This isn't a theory I'm going to subscribe to, just an interesting thought to entertain. It came to me when I recalled these lyrics:

Emptiness is loneliness, and loneliness is cleanliness, and cleanliness is godliness, and God is empty just like me.

Netflix has those shows you love

After finishing another anime today, I went browsing through Netflix for new ones to watch when I've got time. One of the newer additions to the roster is Bill Nye the Science Guy, no kidding. Markiplier seems real excited about that. I'm only bringing that up because Marki brought it up, I know you're quite sick of that show. But Netflix also has some other lovely additions since you and I last bothered to search your favorites. I'll list 3 that I know you love.

Criminal Minds

When you searched with me, Netflix only had a movie. Sometime between then and now they got the actual show on their roster! Since I saw Gideon in the S1:E1 thumbnail I had reason to believe their archive starts at the beginning. A quick Google tells me that the first nine seasons have been up on Netflix since August of last year. Wow, we should have thought of looking twice! I love what I know of the show, so I know this is something I'll have to resist binge-watching now that I'm aware of its availability.

House, M.D.

Netflix has more than one of your favorite doctors. All 8 seasons of House and his adventures, medical and otherwise, have been available since April of last year. I've seen the beginning and I've seen the end, and I've certainly seen enough to be familiar with House and the characters who have been in his department. Now I can fill in the holes in my knowledge with my Netflix subscription. Since the series ended in 2012, there's absolutely no rush to fill in the holes in my series knowledge; it's not going anywhere, hopefully. I'll certainly have fun watching this on the occasion.

Psych

This show we did find before we separated, and we watched a few random episodes of it. You've seen absolutely every episode of this one. I have to admit that I haven't so adamantly been catching up on Psych, but I've watched one occasionally, hopping around. I believe in the last episode I saw Shawn and Gus infiltrated a posh facility for the mentally unstable. Shawn was a great nut, which comes as no surprise. Wasn't this also the last show we watched together? I think it was playing as I looked up places for us to dine at, before our last outing. Psych came up in my consciousness again recently as I discovered that it is one of the few shows that has referenced Supernatural. I'll pop a few more episodes soon, I'm sure.

So visit me, visit her, or get your own subscription and you can enjoy any episode of any of these shows that you'd like. And, of course, there's much more to watch, too. I've got a few more anime to try on Netflix, then I've got Criminal Minds in my sights. All the while I've got to make sure to keep to my responsibilities. I'm relieved to be able to live so normally now.

I'm not angry for this

I'm not angry at you for not staying by me. I know you were led into this course of action. I can't feel anger during this depression anyway. It should be clear that I wouldn't be angry at you right now. What might be questionable is whether I was ever angry at you since we broke up.

I was angry at you once. Surely you remember that. I was trying to find another relationship, with the person I could trust most. I told you who that person was. She was already in a relationship, so you told her about my interest before I was able to confess. That was to keep her from being "blindsided". When you told me that you'd already told her, we three were driving to hang out at my house. I had planned to confess to her there. Instead, I was the one blindsided. I was so angry that I yelled at you to get out of my car. You insisted on at least being taken to your mom. I dropped you off there.

I was angry, but that didn't quite have to do with not staying by me. When I gave you the ultimatum between your two loves and you let me down, I wasn't angry at you. As we went along being friends, I often acted like a jerk, but that wasn't to vent anger. It was to create distance while you became independent and I looked for a healthy relationship. I wasn't angry when you stopped talking to me, either. I was scared for my well-being. Ever since you stopped listening, I've been scared.

This doesn't make me angry. This scares me. Maybe if you knew that you would act like the best friend you said you were to me.

Precipitation unheard

Droplets float lightly;
precipitation, unheard,
felt only outside.

Tengen toppa gurren lagann

Pierce the Heavens, Gurren Lagann!

Above is Shimón, whose name is suspiciously close to that of everyone's favorite Disney meerkat. Like the meerkat, he lives in an underground village and his place in that village is to dig holes. He's largely an outcast, particularly unattractive to the girls. He has a hand in causing quite a bit of trouble for the village. That's where most of the similarities end, though. Unlike our meerkat, Shimón is the best digger in the village. He's only dragged into the mischief of his buddy and older-brother-figure Kamina. The poor boy's parents aren't alive to be concerned about how he's treated by the village. The existence of a surface is treated as a myth by the village.

One last difference: Shimón's adventure begins at home. He often discovers neat knicknacks while digging, such as the little drill above. That's just one part of the find, though; he also excavates a big metal head in the ground. Before he can show his bro Kamina, a much bigger metal head crashes through the ceiling of the village, flooding it with sunlight. This face isn't inactive, though, and it starts to wreck the village. A girl with an energy rifle swings in by rope to help, adding to the confusion. After brief introductions - the girl is named Yoko - Shimón brings Kamina and Yoko to the face he found. His drill begins to glow, and he's able to activate the face with it; the three jet out of the tunnels inside atop the mech-head and manage to flying-uppercut the enemy head right back up to the surface. Shimón and Kamina see a view like they have never seen before.

This post-apocalyptic scifi anime just gets better from there, as Shimón leaves his home with Pumba and Simba Kamina and Yoko, adventuring into the big, wide world. This anime both expounds on stereotypes and blasts expectations away, providing a commendable balance of moments that you totally saw coming and moments that will likely blindside you. The world of Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann is slowly unearthed with each episode, the methodical madness woven into an impressive tapestry. Your biggest question may be, "Giant face robots, what the hell?" That actually does get answered, don't worry.

If you're still not sure whether to watch, how about giving the intro a play? I just love it.

So, that's all my words of praise! Watch this anime and I guarantee you'll be pleasantly surprised by it!

Memorial day

It sounds wrong to say, "Happy Memorial Day!" It's specifically a day commemorating our soldiers' deaths. Can't really be happy about that unless you're an anarchist or have no regard for a warrior's life. Makes sense to be proud, but Memorial Day celebrations aren't usually stoic in nature. Cookouts, alcohol, et cetera. Then again, perhaps indulging in the freedoms that the armed forces protect is an appropriate way to appreciate the lives given for it.

Mom grilled up some steak. We also slapped steak sauce on some veggie patties for me and cooked them on tin foil above the grill. When the patties were cooked, Mom set them on the actual grill to give them racing stripes. It's really crazy how much the flavor of the meat I used to eat was actually just the sauce! The patties were delicious. My brother enjoyed his fill of steak, so I'd say it was delicious too. Also had some white rice with peas and carrots. I've been avoiding white rice, but I piggily grabbed a few servings of the stuff. Mom also made a medley of vegetables, main ingredient being string beans. I ate that right up, too. Yeah, I didn't really limit my plate today. Heheh.

The only special part we made of today was making the food, though. We didn't all sit together to eat. Sorry, we're not that patriotic. Actually, it was my brother's idea to cook today. And he's supposed to be the unsentimental one! My mom thinks he was just thinking of the food, not the holiday. Probably true, but I'll choose to think he cared about the day. I finished yet another anime, Samurai Champloo. I really liked it, especially the soundtrack, but I don't think you'd care enough to watch. So I won't be writing up a recommendation for that one. I've still got Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann to write up, after all!

What'd you do today? It wasn't too sunny, but did your uncle invite you for a get-together anyway? I hope you ate as much delicious food as I did and enjoyed time you spent with your family. Even sans family, you got today off from school. It's always nice to get time off school. It's been nice for me because for once I haven't had school assignment to worry about. Yep, it happens once every 10 weeks, haha. I get right back into another module tomorrow, though. Since my bro's back to school too, I'm assuming you are. Hope you've been able to relax!

Another outing with bro and mom

The passed day, my little brother and I took my mom out for shopping! First stop was the mall downtown and, within that, the food court. My brother neglected to eat before we left, so he was starving. I wasn't opposed; it'd been a few hours since I'd eaten, so whatever. First thing I noticed is that the Wetzel's Pretzels there was shuttered, its outside stripped! I instantly regretted not getting pretzels there while it was open just last month. I know that's sad news for you too. Let us mourn the loss of the dear store together. =[

My bro got some crispy shrimp, which he liked the taste of but which gave him a stomach ache. I had my first Panda Express ever: mixed vegetables with eggplant tofu and two veggie spring rolls. Well, that was the order. At first they didn't have fresh mixed vegetables, so I waited on that. When they got the vegetables, they only had one spring roll left over. I decided, what the heck, I'd wait some more. And so I waited such a long time that they gave me these cheese-filled scrumps apologetically. I ended up just taking the last spring roll. The food was delicious, even if the frying pans didn't align for me, haha.

Hitting up Hot Topic, I snagged a two shirts I liked on clearance. One has 12 of the Doctor's mugs lined up on it. I could have gotten a snazzy shirt with Clara and on it accompanied by words of mystique and praise in French. But you know that neither Clara nor French are my favorites. In retrospect, I feel bad that none of those shirts had Capaldi on it. I need to get a shirt with him on it as soon as I can, because I am really satisfied with his Doctor.

The other says "smile, your life is tolerable" (sans comma). I hope it's true for anyone that sees me wearing it. It's definitely more acceptable than saying life's good, and at the least it's funny in a slightly dark way. The shirt is more advice for myself than for anyone else, though. My little brother got a soft, light scarf decorated with police boxes. My mom got a pocket mirror with Arial on it. While the mirror is cute, why get something like that when you can use your smart phone screen these days? Anyway, there were a lot of other options, but we didn't want to drain Mom's purse too much.

Unsurprisingly, the World of Warcraft merch my mom was hoping for was absent at Hot Topic. Physical WoW products were also absent from the GameStop next door. We could have checked out a store called Comics and Stuff, but by that time my mom was too discouraged. Sorry Mom, I should have gotten you into a game that was actually cool. Haha. Anyway, we had more parking garage adventures. You'd think I'd have the structure down by now, but no. While we didn't get lost per se, we didn't really make our way straight back to the car. The thing is that we started in a weird place, but I made our way to somewhere I recognized from my previous excursions. All was well!

We went to Costco to pick up food for today, Memorial Day. We'll be making a nice little dinner, you see. My mom got really uptight about me riding in the shopping cart, so if I can help it I will no longer take her with me and my brother to places with shopping carts. >.> We also went to the bakery for sweetbread and donuts. Since I rejected sweetbread for myself, I instead indulged in a slice of carrot cake. When I opened the container, the carrot-shaped icing popped right off the cake and stuck to the lid. That was just somehow funny. The carrot had a weird texture! The cake was yummy, anyway, and everyone at home at least liked it. Sorry you didn't get a bite.

That's it for yesterday. I've been watching Samurai Champloo, and I didn't leave myself enough time for two messages. I started on the Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann recommendation, but I realized that I wouldn't get it done so I switched over to this. That recommendation will come out today, promise. By the way, today is also International Towel Day, so I hope you know where your towel is! Take care~

All is wrong

In this mind, all is wrong.
The truth is sadness, wrong.	My lie is blind faith, wrong.
This pain is nothing, wrong.	A smile is short-lived, wrong.
To embrace demise, wrong.	To pursue lost love, wrong.
Which wrong will make it right?

11-hour sleep

I went to bed at midnight last night. Woke up nearly at midday! That's to be expected when you stay awake for so long. I actually feel pretty fantastic having done that. It definitely doesn't feel like I went a full day without sleeping! Maybe I should do that more often, who knows? Maybe that was a good choice out of the ones I made the past few days.

It would be pretty radical to choose not to sleep every day. There isn't even a good reason to do it except that I can. Isn't it unhealthy, anyway? I'll think more about it, and I'm not set on staying up tonight. Could go either way. I might be feeling effects after all, because I forgot to put the proper permalink on my last message and some Blogger stupidness won't let me put the right one on this message either. I wish I could automate the permalinking on Blogger as I like it, or have not such a permanent link and be able to change it if I mess up, but that's one of the few things I can't do here.

The dogs were a topic that deserved its own message, but there are other little things that I'd like to share right now. One of those things is that my grandma found a little device the other day. It looks like the quesadilla maker, but its inside is deep and flat and the device is really quite small. Whatever the cooker's intended purpose is, it is great for toasting sandwiches! I put together a sandwich yesterday, popped it in the powered little thing, and closed the lid. After a few minutes, I opened the cooker up to find the bread toasted and the contents nice and warm. And, of course, the sandwich was delicious! Thinking about it makes me want to make another this instant.

However, I have another bread-encased meal in mind. We have been getting bolio loafs lately and I haven't bothered to eat many. It's a bit of a hassle to slice and fill them, and a whole loaf is bigger than what I should be eating anyway. I've been watching an anime named Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann and it's got a lot to do with drills. The shape of a drill reminded me of half of a bolio. Half of a bolio reminded me of bread bowls. And thus I came at my next meal idea: cut the bolio in half, push open a cavity in the bolio, and stuff the bolio with whatever! I chose cheese and beans as my filling. I stuck the bolio in the toaster oven, wedging it upright in the grill. It got burnt at the top, but it didn't fall over or spill in any way, it was easy to hold, and it was yummy. I'll use that other half when I'm finished writing here, heat it at a lower temperature, and use shredded cheese instead of string cheese. I feel like I should give this meal a name, to differentiate it from a stuffed full-size bolio.

I was considering calling it Tengen Toppa. That translates to pierce the heavens. I feel like my meal isn't worthy of such a name, though, even if it is in reference to the anime. Could just call it a drill, but is it conical enough to be worthy of such a name? Anyway, I finished watching Gurren Lagann today. It is fantabulous! And now I understand that one of the first jokes made in Lucky Star was a reference to Gurren Lagann. The joke was hilarious on its own, but it's even funnier knowing that the punchline was a reference to an actual anime. The Lucky Star anime is only 7 days older than Gurren Lagann, actually; they aired at the same time. That must have been absolutely hilarious for viewers who watched as the series were first aired! I almost feel like I missed out 8 years ago, but hey, better late than never.

I'll write about Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann tomorrow. This is an anime definitely worth publicly recommending. I would have written about it today, but there were too many other things that I wanted to say. Guess that bit of silence did me some good, made me want to open up again! I'm refreshed and pretty happy. I hope you're feeling well too!

Dog updates

I have three adorable little dogs. That statement is more for my supporters than for you. You know my dogs very well, two boys and a girl. I'm going to keep even them anonymous on here. Anyway, stuff has been up with the dogs lately, and I certainly think you'd like to hear about it.

First of all, our little girl isn't feeling so well. Yesterday her lower jaw was completely matted in gooey saliva. When given a treat, she would take it into her mouth but not chew, dropping it back out of her mouth covered in slobber. I washed her head and cut her chin fur short. The fur on her chin looks better short, but the reason for cutting it was so that it'd be easier to clean the drool off. We had no idea what's keeping the poor girl from keeping her mouth shut and from eating. Today I'm told that she had bled from her mouth while I was asleep. That finally prompted my mom to take her, accompanied by my brother, to the vet.

Apparently a cut on the inside of the doggy's mouth was the cause of all this. We and the vet are hoping that her gums aren't infected, but I think her inability to keep her mouth shut means her gums are inflamed and that's a sign of infection. It's a good sign, though, that she isn't drooling as much today. She isn't eating solids, however. I gave her a bath when she came back from the vet. The boys found their way into the bathroom and started sniffing her, even though I turned the water on their faces. The older one actually jumped in with her, so I gave him a bath too. Silly dog.

Speaking of that dog, look what he did to me this evening.

My stepdad was getting some serious growls when trying to take burrs out of that boy's paw. As I'm more respected by those dogs than anyone else in the house, I decided to give it a try. More growls from the impudent dog, plus teeth-baring, and finally the attack. It's not the first time he's bitten me. Partially out of the knowledge that moving your hand worsens a bite and partly to show him how little his biting affected me, I held my hand still until he let go. My mom and stepdad tried to make some point about leaving the dogs alone, but I was half expecting him to bite me anyway so I didn't care at all.

After sternly delivering reprimanding words to the pup, I left to wash my hands. Then I returned to removing the burrs. This time, he stayed relatively quiet. He didn't give me any more trouble. The reason he thinks he's got a place to growl and attack is because my mom and stepdad give him that place. When he doesn't want to be touched or moved, and he starts to bare his fangs, they just back off. With domesticated animals it seems that you have to stand your ground. They won't respect you if they can scare you. That dog takes effort.

The third dog is doing just fine. The boys are very concerned for our girl, and of course this one's way of showing it is by licking her incessantly. Sometimes she's been in the mood to spook him off though. You should see him when she growls at him. When the other boy growls at him, he approaches slowly and fearlessly, growling back. When the girl growls, he jumps back a foot. He's too concerned to run away but too spooked to get near, so he makes quick hops around interrupted by his intense staring at her. That furball gets so intensely jerked around when he feels two different ways about something. The dog even whines with indecision and fear. Can't blame him, you know how scary the little girl looks when she bares her teeth. Scarier than the boys, to be sure.

Well, that's how they're doing. I'm not horrible myself, just my skin hurts a bit from the bites. I'm sure the puppies would be very happy to see you walk through the door again. Someday you'll let them jump on your legs again, won't you?

Oh woah, state of abnormality

I've been awake for nearly 30 hours straight. I'm not trying to brag or something, just stating the fact. I could go to sleep right now, and I could have at any point in the passed day. I just didn't go to sleep. I didn't care enough to go to sleep. I've just been up, either programming or watching shows. There were some times when I let myself nearly doze off during a show, but I could continue to be up.

Things aren't normal with me, obviously. Maybe it's better to think of normality as less of a single state and more as several states, each with a certain degree of normalcy and comfort, a certain blend and structure of activity. What's different? First off, I'm not going out of my way to help people. I'm hardly even going out of my way to talk to people. Instead, I've been programming pretty intensely. I mostly haven't even been coding with the goal of creating a system or program. I've been coding just to implement concepts, to make very non-specific stuff that has a lot of potential uses. You can call them utilities. For the things that I'm doing that aren't uncommon, I feel like I'm doing them in strange proportions. Programming, watching anime, preparing and eating food, and sleeping are habits that haven't manifested in the correct ratios. Like I said, intense programming and no sleep. Food-making has been less frequent and efforted for me. I'm not iterating through so many episodes of anime in a sitting.

Not all of that immediately appears bad. In many ways, I don't really think any of that is particularly bad. I just don't want to feel lost. I want to stop changing in ways that matter only enough to make life feel different, that don't matter enough to improve living. It's weird to think outside the axis of getting better and getting worse. The easiest way to compare today to a year ago is to say that it's worse, so I expect things to become better again or stay worse. It isn't surprising that the current changes hardly mean anything to me. The surprise to me is that they don't actually do anything to me.

Because of all this, I've decided to revert. No more doing what I feel like. I should regain the structure and composure that I had just a few days ago. Very importantly, that means restoring my writing frequency. I won't try to make up for the posts I've missed. One can't take back time, only use more time to pretend to do it over. This experience isn't worth so little that I would try to cover it up by writing in the stead of what should have been written. Two posts each day again, starting tomorrow.

No all-nighter. I should say hi to my friends. Less programming, more effort into food, a bit more anime-watching, and a good night's sleep. Let's see if I can pull it off, being more normal tonight.

Give in a little

Please excuse me for a while. I don't want to talk. I don't want to talk with anyone, not about anything. I missed yesterday completely, without warning. I'm still here, though. I'm safe.

I know I'm supposed to fight the urge to cut myself off, but I've been feeling the pressure now more than ever. I think it's built up, and I need to let it seep out by indulging a little. I just don't want to force myself to bottle it in any further.

It's been nearly 4 months since I started writing Tell Her Before I Die. I've gained many great supporters and empathizers. I'm glad that they're reading and responding, sure, but I haven't seen a single word from you. I'll keep telling myself that you'll read this and that I should keep writing, but another day.

I'm sorry.

Hey follower, read this

Tell Her Before I Die has over 50 +1s on the main page. Only one person follows it through Blogger, but that's okay because I understand that people who don't blog on Blogger won't care to activate Blogger on their Google accounts. My G+ account is followed by over 720 other accounts. The highest number of +1s one of these messages has gotten is 24, and the lowest is 0. That one with the highest +1s was my Mothers' Day message. I'm sure the reason for this is that I made images in several different languages from that message and shared them on G+ with the link. The message with the highest number of registered page views was The braver, with 34 views.

With that recitation of statistics, you probably think I'm about to complain that the blog should get more attention. No, that's not where I'm going. There's one more statistic that I've left out: every message with no +1s and less than 5 registered page views are ones that I didn't share on Google+. I can make one of two things of this. Either most of my supporters only look at Tell Her Before I Die when they see it appear in their G+ stream, or most of them don't look at the posts individually. I've also noticed that the blog's registered page views appear to decrease drastically when I don't share to G+, so it would seem like the former is true. But that Mothers' Day message has more +1s than registered page views, so obviously the page view count is unreliable.

At first I felt bad about sharing my messages to G+. One of the main reasons I started writing here instead of on G+ was because I didn't want to flood my followers with depressing messages, after all. I still feel a little guilty realizing that sharing may be the only way to get people to look at my messages. It's not so terrible, though. At any rate, I'm satisfied and thankful that people are reading this at all.

Forgetfulness and quesadillas

The quesadillas I make now are always stuffed with goodies. The one I made today had cayenne powder and chopped tomato, onion, celery, and lettuce. It's been hard to keep the quesadilla together when I'm eating with all those things in there with the cheese. One response I've come up with is cutting the quesadilla into thirds. Another that I tried today is adding an extra slice of cheese, since cheese is the glue of a quesadilla. Except it's more healthy and delicious than glue.

Why the heck did I do that? I figured out a while back that two slices of cheese is ideal for the size of tortilla that I use to avoid overflow. Consequently the cheese, and some of the quesadilla's other contents, overflowed while I toasted it. Derp. Seemed like a brilliant idea when I came up with it.

What I'm wondering now is why I forgot the ideal cheese amount. Thanks to depression, there have been many times when I was so wrapped up in sudden sadness or apathy that I forgot how to do what I was doing, or even what I was supposed to be doing. I don't think depression is to blame this time, though. I was feeling fine when I was putting my tortilla sandwich together. I've gotta blame this one on good old-fashioned adventurism and forgetfulness! Tried to break out of habit and forgot why the reason I had that habit in the first place.

That's not so bad of a mistake though. Remember that time you were making a quesadilla for me and you forgot to put the top tortilla on before closing the quesadilla maker? You were so upset when you opened the maker and realized your mistake that you threw the quesadilla - well, open cheese sandwich of tortilla - right into the trash. I still would have eaten it if you hadn't thrown it away, I told you. Waste not was, and to a much lesser extent still is, my food philosophy. Not sure what lead you to that mistake, especially since that wasn't your first use of a quesadilla maker and your previous attempts were perfectly successful. I'm glad you were eventually able to look back at the incident and laugh, especially since I'm immortalizing it on Tell Her Before I Die now.

I still enjoyed the quesadilla that I made. After thoroughly moving the quesadilla and overflow onto a plate, I just ate up the overflow with a fork. From there I was able to enjoy the rest of the quesadilla by hand. I'll have to remember next time that the cheese amount must stay constant. Maybe there's some better way to arrange the ingredients. I'll experiment with that and see what comes of it. At least if I make some grave mistake then I can write it off in the name of science, since stuffing my quesadillas is relatively uncharted territory for me. If I forget one of the tortillas, though, I'll be disappointed in myself.

A hello to our old friend

Today was the birthday of a mutual friend of ours. I called him at the start of the hour to give him my best wishes, and we chatted and caught up for quite a while. It's been months since I last talked to him. I wonder how long it's been for you? He didn't mention that anyone else wished him a happy birthday, but I kinda have doubts that you bothered to do so. You don't really go out of the way to talk to people, though you're better at remembering birthdays than I am.

You always complained about having no real friends. You'd have real friends if you kept up with them, you know. Silly hermit fox, it would only take the occasional text or call to keep some real friends. Inviting someone to go somewhere, even just to the mall, would be a great move too. Considering your regular habit of alienating your friends, I shouldn't be so surprised that you abandoned me when I needed you the most. Yet it's still a shock.

Our friend is currently enjoying his birthday currently with Skyrim. Almost tempts me to play Skyrim again, but I don't have any extra content like you and he do. Perhaps once I've taken my last final for the mod on Wednesday I'll play around with it. Nah, I'll probably be busy with something else. My little brother was discouraged by the first episode of the sixth season of Supernatural, so it'll be a while before we watch that again. In the meantime, I've been working and watching anime. Finally working on that big to-watch list!

I mentioned that he, I, and others we know should all just hang out somewhere sometime. He mentioned that we should chat more often. That's the sort of proactivism that friendship is made of. Those sort of casual suggestions are what can make someone really be a friend to you. Try reconnecting!

Handling regret

I was thinking about the last time I tried to visit you. That scary time. I thought someone horrible had done something to you. I was so panicked and I didn't handle it correctly at all, because I didn't know how to. I ended up as the bad guy, when I was lost and too anxious to change things. It's not something that I particularly want to remember clearly, but I do remember each minute of it. I don't want to talk about it now, but I'll likely make myself write about it another time.

This memory makes me very uncomfortable. I know there was a better way for it to have happened, but I can't blame myself for reacting as I did. I know that, if anything, I should blame that stranger who was at your house, but that's just not how I like to think. I try not to blame other people, because I can't control them. I try to think about how I can take responsibility, how I can handle things moving forward. But that incident is a huge regret and truly resolving this mess is an option unavailable to me. There are times when it's better to defy personal philosophy, but that doesn't make the action feel right.

What I noticed today, though, is that I could handle that memory much better know than when it occupied me in the past. It's usual for me to have physical reactions to those kinds of memories, to deal with the feeling of helplessness. The energy helplessness creates is like a pliable clay streaming to places not quite defined, blurring back through some other unclear edge and creating an exasperating loop around my body. Not so much of that today. I was able to reflect while continuing what I was doing, with not even a troubled facial expression. I'm glad to be at a point where that is possible.

It's a step closer to being the right person again.

Perhaps programming something

So it's past 6AM and I haven't gone to sleep. I could have gotten off a few hours ago when my friend finished with the therapy session, but I have just been so caught up in programming since yesterday. Even though I'd certainly appreciate some shut-eye, a part of me wants to just keep going! That's how hobbies or interests work, I guess, haha.

I think I'm now satisfied with what I've gotten done. There was a lot of, "Let's delete that, it's too complicated," followed by, "Dammit, that's the best way to get it done," and repeat. Once I decided to take on the complication, I had fun seeing it through, and I feel smart for finishing it. Not that I'm finished with my coding. I've got a whole lot more to do.

There's a concept in programming called a singleton. The idea is that there is only one instance of a class throughout runtime. The One Ring could be a good singleton. There is one ring to rule them all, just one in all of existence. Thing is, I don't really see the point of even instantiating a class if there will only ever be one instance. I prefer to make all the fields and most of the methods static, so they can be accessed directly from the class instead of from an instance. The class is the class, no matter what, with no duplicates, and accessible from everywhere, so I think this is the best way of approaching it. Back to the One Ring metaphor, when I mess with the Ring I call it the One Ring, and it is everpresent. Someone who prefers to instantiate would be calling it My Precious, and they may lose it somewhere and have to find it again.

Singletons are just one of the coding concepts I've been employing. I hope the metaphor helped you to get it. Now, I should probably call it a morning. I've got three messages to write today, this one included. Don't worry, I'll keep to it. Time to head to bed...

Programming nothing much

I don't feel that I accomplished enough today. I spent the whole day coding in Java, but I don't feel like what I ended up with is really much. To be sure, it doesn't do anything yet that anyone would care about. I feel like I wasted a lot of time trying to figure out how to solve a tiny little problem. At least I understand how I solved it. I can apply what I've learned in the future, surely.

I've been thinking about my perception of time a lot lately. I've spent months in depression, and most days seem like forever in burden. Looking back is strange. It feels like everything before we broke up was just a snap. Remembering the months after that feels tedious, but that time is also tightly bound by that tedious difficulty I have experienced. Even trying to figure out how I feel about remembering brings me down.

Today was a snap. It didn't feel like more than an hour. One factor could be that absolutely nobody talked to me in any way. Another would be that I had music playing: the Minecraft OST as usual, and the ~ songs on my computer. Many of my ~ songs are anime soundtracks I've gotten from you. They make me smile.

If my words don't seem so composed here, it's because I don't feel like my head is all into English right now. It's still in Java programming mode, haha. I'm going to pull an all-nighter and keep programming. I'll push off the next message for tomorrow. I'll write before I go to sleep. Programming isn't the only reason that I plan to stay up, though. A friend across the world is seeing a therapist for the first time, so I'm staying up to offer support. My friend it quite nervous about it and needs the encouragement.

That's all I have for today. Hope your days have been meaningful. Take care.

192

One hundred and ninety-two is my favorite number between one hundred and one thousand. Those with a bit of computer networking know-how will note that it's a common beginning for local IPv4 addresses. I can appreciate it for that, sure. But did I ever explain how the whole one-nine-two thing started for me?

Toontown. The defunct, turn-based MMORPG by Disney. It was the first subscription-based game I ever played, actually the first MMO I'd ever played if I remember correctly. A friend introduced me to it in 5th grade. When I was making my first username, which was just my first name, the server suggested that I tack 192 onto the end. Sure, why not. I couldn't come up with anything good anyway, so I went with it.

I kept the number with me for quite a while in various ways. My Runescape username was Revolt192. My Vindictus home channel was 192. Heck, I even consider 192 to be a lucky number. And guess how many messages are now on Tell Her Before I Die. 192, so I'm making a little fuss about it. Woohoo~

I wonder if that number still means anything to you. Do you randomly throw it into anything? Does it remind you of me, or is it just a nice number? You also gave me a number to remember, which you took from your sister. I guess it's just a testament to the ability of numbers to be memes. Sometimes numbers stick pretty easily, though I'm sure that's hardly true for everyone.

On one hand, it's sad that I've written this much with no response. On the other, we should be glad that I haven't given up. Numbers, like words, receive the meaning that's given to them, so I'll keep this 192 as a good thing.

I keep browsing for ideas

I often wake up in the morning and think, "Let's write a message for Tell Her Before I Die." These days I haven't often been waking up with a negative thought hounding me. It's not like having those thoughts ever got me sitting down and writing, though. I usually stare at the screen for a few minutes, trying to find something worthwhile to say.

In the mornings, I've got a night's worth of friends' thoughts online to catch up on. After a few seconds of staring at my blank message, I give in to checking on them. Perhaps seeing what they're up to will inspire me, even. Before long, I'm worrying that I haven't eaten breakfast yet, and I go out to make and eat a meal. Usually I'm watching a show while I eat, even though it doesn't take long for me to finish my food. Back to check on G+, hoping for inspiration. I do schoolwork and take care of other responsibilities and needs. Finally it's 10PM and I'm fretting that I haven't written anything, and I don't have anything to write. That's a usual day for me.

It's then that I once again sit and stare, investing time into finding in myself what I'd like to say. There is that moment of temptation to be distracted, but it doesn't hold as much weight at the end of the day. With this concentration, I discover my topic and my words. Heh, that's most writers, isn't it? Goofing off under the pretense of finding inspiration, when all they really had to do was meditate on it. A portion of my messages have been inspired by looking around for triggers, but I think I should just look more often right at myself.

After all, I'm writing about my experience. That should be pretty easy. No need to go out and find new concepts, no need to research and cite sources. Maybe I'm just becoming too concerned about the entertainment value of these messages. Maybe I'm becoming too concerned with writing something impressive. I should just let the impressive things come as they will. I should just reveal what's on my mind, no matter how dumb it may seem. This situation is a stupid one to be in to begin with.

Less about me

Just spent a few hours coding the animation I just published. These things always take much longer than I expect them to. At least I got it within the deadline, though now I have so little time to write up another message. ^.^; To be honest, I was under the illusion that I'd written another message earlier this morning. Not sure where that false memory came from.

Doing that made me realize something, though. All these messages may be for you, but they're all mostly about my thoughts. That animation, though? Yeah, I was thinking about you, but that post is about your thoughts. As I've said, I don't normally get anxious. I know that you have a stressful life, though. Plus the end of your school year is coming up, so you must be dealing with the burden of finals huh? I hope that animation helps.

It occurs to me, too, that my readers know a lot about me but not much about you. I'm not sure if I should be describing you more, especially because anonymity is one of the values of this blog. If anything, I wouldn't be sharing any photos nor social media links of yours. I guess there's an idea for a message when I give myself time. It wouldn't hurt for you to see how I see you. Maybe that's something I should have shared with you more often, even.

I might put it up to a poll, just to see what my readers want. I'll still write whatever I feel. Tell Her Before I Die is what I feel twice each day, after all. Anyway, I hope life is treating you well enough! Be well, love.

For your anxiety

calmness

anxiety

tap above

breathe in

breathe out

Why bother

In the beginning, a plethora dark, torturous thoughts pushed me toward disappearance. In their stead, now, I've found one thought floating around, pushing in a different direction. I will always tell yourself that you will speak to me again. I will keep going forever just on that faith. If you never show up, I'll keep going. If you do show up, you were always satisfied with what I used to be. I've even been trying to accept the possibility that you may never love me enough to be with me again. So why bother improving myself, really?

It's not the urge to disappear anymore. It's not an urge at all, really. This is who I was, too short-sighted, shallow, and indulgent. I usually handled problems just by saying that they aren't problems. I keep thinking that I'm fine as I am, and I know I'm still not. I'm not even just talking depression. This is a normal issue that I can now see.

There's one part where my thought may be wrong, I recognize. I left you alone. We've been without each other. I'm sure you won't accept how I was before. Sometimes, remembering that lets me do what I must. Other times, I admit that I give up. At least I'm still going, though.

Rain today

There have been showers all day today. Interesting how I complained about rain in shows just yesterday, and behold it rains today. Nah, meteorology predicted it, I just didn't realize it. At some points the drops really pounded down. It was pretty fantastic. I'm glad that the only qualm I have about driving in the rain is the over-cautiousness of other drivers. I regret staying inside; this could have been a good opportunity to be touched by the world. It wasn't so bad to only hear the rainfall on my roof, though. I think it's supposed to rain tomorrow, too, so I can admire the weather then.

I saw something peculiar on the roads. In many places, there was a mist upon the wet ground. It hasn't been sunny all day, so the roads haven't been hot, thus it couldn't just be the water evaporating. The fog floated mysteriously along the ground in just certain stretches of road. Maybe this fog wasn't a result of the wet road, but vice verse. Perhaps some of the damp streets were the fault of small, ground-hugging clouds. The answer doesn't actually interest me. I'm just poking at the bewitching images kept in my head of nature.

Surely you saw some of this, too. If you did, I wonder what you thought of it. I wonder what you felt even just about the rain. I hope it didn't catch you too badly while you were walking. I don't think you care as much for the rain as I do.

Tide falls

The tide falls away.
Drenched beach will dry to powder.
Then the sea returns.

Rain in shows

As you know, I love rain. For me, they justify grey skies. So the screen time for rain in shows bothers me. From live-action to cartoons, I feel that too many productions include rain only for a few minutes and only to set a dark, dramatic mood. It's always full-on pouring, too, that picks up within seconds and dies out just the same. Not to mention that, when the rain stops, the clouds instantly part. It's simply cliché.

I don't have anything against shows using precipitation to actually drive the story. While a storm causing conditions too dangerous to travel in is its own cliché, this honestly doesn't bother me as much. My problem is simply that rain is too often just a cheap mood-setter though. Why can't it be treated as a normal event? Why can't it rain for half an hour without some tragedy going on? Why can't it rain multiple times in a single day? Can the rain still fall softly? And how about those beautiful conditions where part of the sky is clear and sunny but it's still raining from the clouds overhead? Precipitation shouldn't be saved solely for clichés!

I'm not about to switch to a career in film or animation to implement these changes. I'm going to keep my wishes in mind for any stories that I write and videogames that I develop, though. That's where I'm headed, so that's where I'll take my ideas.

The braver

Of one who braves death
and one who braves the abuse
who is the braver?

Blue exorcist

In March, I came across this image on Google+. The words speak my desire, and that's not the only way that it got me thinking about you. We watched the first episode of Blue Exorcist together once. I wasn't fond of it back then, because I was big on the concept of multiple devils and Blue Exorcist insists on there only being Satan. I could be pretty rigid with lore back then. Thus, I didn't care to pick the anime up again.

Seeing this image, I just had to share it. I asked for opinions on whether to start watching again, and the overall response was yes. I put it on my to-watch list. My very long to-watch list, mind you. It wasn't until just a day ago that I started watching Blue Exorcist. Over a dozen episodes in, I've ended up enjoying it immensely.

I remember that my mom was driving us somewhere later that day when somehow I ended up mentioning that we watched the anime. I explained the basis of the show to her: a kid who has been raised by a priest in a church discovers that he is actually the son of Satan, and he decides to use his newly found power to become an exorcist. The fact that the protagonist is the son of Satan triggered her concern. I defended the series by saying, "The moral is that, no matter what you're born into, even if you're the son of a devil, you can still receive God's love." Well, that's one way of seeing it, after all, and it got that awkward moment out of the way. Mainly I wanted to prevent my own mother from associating anime with satanism. I think I got it right.

How about a deeper refresher? Rin and Yukio Okumura are 15-year-old twin brothers who've been raised as a wards of the church by father-figure and priest Shiro Fujimoto. Yukio is a model teen who's gotten a full ride to True Cross Academy, and at the series' start is packing his stuff to head off. Rin, on the other hand, is a delinquent who doesn't want to continue school, can't hang a job, and is easily brought to wrath. That's how they're seen through the lenses of a normal life, at least. This normal life ends when Rin's supernatural powers begin to stir and he begins to see demons in the world around him. Father Fujimoto is compelled to reveal to Rin that he is the son of Satan, and curtain of normalcy starts its rise to reveal a whole other world of truths and dangers. Or perhaps it's Satan's blue flames that are consuming that curtain.

If you didn't keep watching this series without me, you should spend some of your spare time watching Blue Exorcist! I remember you really liked that first episode, so why not pick it up again like I did? Have fun! ^.^

Not the time to say

I have a lot of things to say. That should be clear by the number of messages I've left here. But there's still plenty that's on my mind. I sit and think about how to say it, but the words don't quite come. I look at the clock and think that I won't have the time. I twiddle my thumbs and wonder if I should leave that thought for another day. I forget some of those thoughts, and others stay with me indefinitely because the time isn't ever right.

My life is about knowing when to wait. It's about having faith that time will have wounds heal instead of scar. It's about staying still so that I can't make another mistake with you. And so I become paranoid about how I say things and when I say it, even when I know that saying it as I intend would be inconsequential at worst. For a long time I had a guilt complex, but you buried it. Since you abandoned me, it's made it made its way back up. I've done my best not to blame myself completely. It wasn't easy at first, and it's hard to be sure when I should externalize.

I'm waiting for any number of fantasies. I'm waiting for you to send me a message, or to make note of something I posted, or to appear on my doorstep. A large part of me says that I shouldn't be important enough for you to do that for me. The only realistic thing I have to wait for, though, is March 2017, when I'll be legally able to talk to you again. On few days am I able to look happily toward that future, though, so I indulge myself in my fantasies instead. When the question comes to mind, "What are you doing?" I answer, "She could reach out today, or at least soon. I need to be here every moment so that her effort won't go to waste."

Of course, if these months all pass then I will reach for you. I will risk it, because one way or another I deserve to take that risk. I truly hope that you're the one who will break the silence, though. Please return to me my peace with your hands, because I'm so scared to try to grip it myself again.

A figurine's story

On the shore of a lake where the water is calm, a figurine left on the ground unattended has a good chance of simply remaining until it is found again. However, life is not a lake. Life is an ocean. with crashing waves and engulfing tides. A figurine left on this shore will likely be swallowed up by the ocean. But as life isn't a lake, I am not a motionless figurine. I've dug my fingers into the sand as I was swept away. I've kicked and struggled toward the surface and back toward the shoreline. The ocean seems endless, and my figure naturally sinks. Despite this I know that you could find me when walking near the place where we parted.

If the one who was left behind is a figurine, then you were one too. I wouldn't dare to leave you by a shore, though. I opened my hand with you in it. I tilted my hand until you slipped off, into the hands of someone I thought should have you. A girl who held you while I held you, but slipped her fingers between mine while dreading my touch. I knew you were safe in her hands. I never wanted to stop seeing you, so I didn't. I stroked your head as it appeared above her fingers. I smiled, and cupped my hand behind your head. Feeling wrong, trying to move on, I took my hand away. You were fine, but I was gone and I was alone. The day came when I rushed back and my hand held your head too tightly. You left to a place far away, in her hand. I was left as a lonely figurine.

Inevitably apart

My little brother and I spent today making our mom happy. We started just past midnight with "Happy Mothers' Day!" to her and our grandmother. I showed them the previous message I put together. After hours of sleep, my brother got me up to prepare a plentiful breakfast of french toast for them. After breakfast, we presented our gifts to them: a floppy white hat for our grandmother, and a wooden wall ornament for our mom. I expected the ornament to be put up in my mom's office at school, but my mom had me put some nails into the wall above her computer, and we hung the ornament there.

Afterward, my brother, my mom, and I spent a few hours on Coronado Island. When we hit the beach, I was the only one in the water. It was pretty cold. My brother admitted to acting like you. Ah well, we had fun exploring the coast. We came across the Hotel Del Coronado and explored its shops. Yes, the hotel has its own mall. We came across a sweets shop with an intoxicating smell, and I got such a filling caramel & sea salt fudge block that I couldn't keep it all to myself. That's both because I wanted my mom and brother to share its deliciousness with me and because it was terribly filling.

On our way home, we ordered some pupusas, and we visited a small rose garden while the order was being filled. We went home to eat, and I poured cayenne all over my pupusas. Watched TV with my brother, watched TV alone, now I'm here at the end of the day. It was fun, and I'm glad that our outing made our mom quite happy.

Normally after these things I say, "I wish you'd been there." Yeah, I do wish that. To my understanding, my brother and mom would have liked that too. However, I realized as quickly as I'd thought it first that you couldn't have spent the day with us anyway. You'd spend the day with your mother, just the same as you probably spent it today. Maybe you could have come over in the evening, but you would have missed the main events. Perhaps you could have slept over yesterday to spend the morning with us today, then I'd have dropped you off with your mom. Still, it was inevitable that we would have spent most of today apart. So, this is one of the few days when I truly could't regret being separated from you; it would have happened this way anyway.

I hope that you and your mother had a lovely day together, sweetie. =]

Happy Mothers' Day

Happy Mothers' Day

I've done lots of writing

Well, that's what blogging is all about, isn't it? It's a whole lot of writing. This makes the 178th message, 2 messages for nearly every day since I've started. Some messages are a few sentences, and some are a few paragraphs. The one I just wrote was a few paragraphs. I don't think this message will come near a match to that.

I have so much to tell you. Well, if you've read everything up to now, then I had so much to tell you. You had a whole lot to read, in that case. I'm so grateful if you've read it all. I'm grateful if you've just read a little. Thank you for putting in any effort at all to understand what I've been dealing with. Not just the simple synopsis of, "You broke a relationship, now you can't let her go. Soldiers and the poverty-stricken have much worse problems than you." Actually trying to understand how I feel, or how I can't feel, and how I'm trying to understand and manage that. Understanding how depression and suicidal thoughts aren't helped by abandonment, and how holding on to even the most unrealistic threads of hope can help to bring a person out of their personal hell. I know there's so much more to understand, too, but I'm not trying to list off what I think you should be getting from this.

For all the effort that I put into my messages, I am grateful for the effort you put into reading and comprehending them. Whoever is reading, thank you so much.

Obedience

My dog bit my brother for the first time today. Yeah, probably the one you'd expect to do it. It wasn't a bad bite; it didn't even break the skin. Of course, my brother is too cool to get upset over something like that, too. Still, that's a big deal, and the dog kept growling afterward. See, when that dog really wants to be in a certain place, he'll defend his right to be there. That's probably what led to the bite. So, like a good owner, I scolded him. I told him to stop growling, putting my fingers in a ring over his snout. This wasn't dangerous for him, of course, because he can still breathe through his nose when that's going on. If anything he could slip out of my hand and bite me easily. He was better than that, though.

My stepdad and my mom have a different approach to the dogs' misbehavior. They prefer to let them be or to distract them with treats. Obviously, they're not interested in correcting the dogs' behavior. They just want the dogs to stop, they don't want to train them. So of course while I'm scolding the dog my step-father is telling me to just let him go. He didn't want the headache of hearing me scold the dog, though he didn't say that. He only ordered me to stop, just as I was ordering the dog to stop. I didn't stop. Often I'll oblige because giving my step-father problems means my mother will have problems later. Today, though, I knew the dog would listen soon enough. I ignored my step-father, and he sulked off into his office, slamming the door behind him.

The dog stopped soon, like I thought. Then more noise started up. When my step-father gets frustrated, he likes to sit in his office in front of his computer and blast music. That's his coping mechanism, and many teens are likely to be able to relate. He always does this, usually only loud enough to bother my mother who sits at her computer across the wall. Today, though, he took it too far. My little brother and I wanted to sit down and watch Supernatural, and we could hear the music as clearly as if it was playing from the television. I couldn't stand for that, knowing my mother had to deal with it being even closer. My little brother went to ask him to turn the music down. My step-father told him to just close all the doors. My little brother did so and, of course, it didn't help at all. So I went to his office to ask him to turn the music down, because we could hear it clear across the house. I reminded him how we always turn our volumes down when he asks us to. He largely ignored me, with his two responses being "I don't want to hear you" and "go ahead and turn it down yourself".

I knew that turning it down by force would accomplish nothing, so I simply threatened to stand over his shoulder until he turned it down. I didn't want him to just settle in and get comfortable while screwing with the rest of us. I told him that this was not the right way to handle his problems, and that he should stop being so inconsiderate of his family. My mother came in and started yelling at me to just let him do what he wanted. I just stood still. She took me by the arm and literally dragged me out of the room; I didn't want to hurt her, so I let her do it. I realized that my step-father would feel justified, given my mother's actions, so it was now pointless to play the mind-game of standing in his space.

I wasn't finished yet, though. I went outside to the fusebox. I could still hear the music clearly from outside. It wasn't locked, so I tried to get open it, but I couldn't get a good grip on the cover. Before I could open the box, my mother rushed out and got between me and the box. She argues her hand-off position, I argued my take-action position, and my brother stood with us outside. Eventually, understanding that I couldn't convince her, I walked away from it. But she wanted to make me understand, so she asked me to come back. I did, and she talked a bit more. I didn't try to convince her, though, and she sure didn't convince me of anything. My little brother noticed that we couldn't hear the music anymore. With that, we went back inside, and my brother and I watched our show.

The irony in me training the dogs to be obedient is always that I disobey when my mother or stepfather tell me to stop training. I used to feel guilty about that. However, I realize that, first of all, my obedience doesn't set any sort of example for the dogs. Second, I'm training the dogs because I know better than them. I know that growling and biting is the wrong thing for the dogs to do, so I scold them for doing it and pet and baby them for playing nice. However, I'm not a dog. My little brother isn't a dog. We're not pets of our parents; we're intelligent, thinking beings. In this case, they simply don't know better. Perceived wisdom through age doesn't trump logic. We're all human, and at the least we should be able to see each other equally. I don't try to train my parents to train the dogs correctly, because I don't have a place over them. Of course, my stepfather thinks he deserves a place over me and my brother, the power to give orders without question. I'm not saying that he's wrong because we know what to do better than he does, I'm saying he wrong because he's treating us like we can't think for ourselves.

When you thought for yourself, thought to try to stay my friend, you made the right decision. Then you gave in to others' wishes for you to abandon me, and I doubt that was the right thing to do. I don't want you to regret that decision to not think for yourself, and I know that I have learned so much from what I've gone through because of that decision. I just want you to know that you're a smart, loving, driven girl who should be respected for the decisions that she's made in kindness.

To bathe or to blog

Around 10 I made myself a decision. A little decision, but one nonetheless: should I write a message now, or shower? Late at night, my folks don't like me splashing water around. On the other hand, of course, midnight is my deadline for my two messages each day. I chose the shower.

Why do I feel the need to tell you that? Well, I'm just spouting everything I can find any meaning in. Allow me to explain that meaning. Tell Her Before I Die has helped me to pull out of the darker depths of depression, so I keep writing for it a priority obligation. But I realize that this is less about defeating depression and more about living my normal life. The bad feelings will probably not go away without you. I've been working toward not letting those feelings impede my life. To do that without lying to myself too much, yes, those negative feelings have had to diminish. In the big picture, that's a stepping stone. It gives me a foothold toward normal living. And, of course, normal living is a stone toward spending time with you again. You see how that all goes.

I think that in that decision I prioritized living normally over living with depression. I'm here banging out this message last-minute, but I may not have ended up able to do this. I'm clean and taking care of my body, and that's important. I realize that my head still needs work, so I'm not going to stop writing, but I think it's safe for me to put it on the backburner sometimes.

Better yet, I should learn how to manage my time better. Also how to take shorter showers.

I keep forgetting the spice

I keep forgetting to spread a good helping of cayenne powder on my food lately. On everything where cinnamon is appropriate, I certainly don't forget the cinnamon, but the poor cayenne has been neglected or at least nearly omitted. Piece by piece, I place the nourishment on my tongue, chew and swallow. The whole time, to the end, I feel like it's lacking. Only at the end do I realize what was missing, and I get a little frustrated. The person I'm returning to being didn't bother spicing his food. So as I get closer to normality, I suppose that I forget the extra steps I've been trying to take.

Similarly, it's become more difficult to replace an extra meal with a glass of water. It's more tempting to pick up a sweet instead of preparing a healthy meal. I can't say that my family's habits help; they're always getting temptations both casually and as gifts. This really frustrates me. You understand what it's like to not have what you need to be healthy.

I have a choice though. I do have the freedom and finance to just go and buy what I need. Near the end of our relationship, I took you grocery shopping, and you made good food choices for yourself. Leeching off my mother's money, I could drive to any market in town to buy the food that I'd prefer. There's a few excuses that discourage me from doing this, though. First, I don't keep that good of a catalogue of the food we have. I don't want to waste money on what we already have, especially if it's perishable or best when fresh. But my grandmother could help me take inventory before I decide to go. Second, going grocery shopping has always been the responsibility of my mother and stepfather. I don't want to infringe on their responsibilities. However my stepfather often uses the argument that, if I'm not happy with the way someone else does something, then I should do it myself. Maybe that's why I'm the one who makes noodles around here now. Third, I don't want to be any more of a financial burden than I already am. Then again, my household pays for my food anyway.

And since simply saying that I don't want to be fattened up hasn't been clear enough, I should let economics take its course. I should let the unhealthy food ruin, because it isn't a waste to have not eaten it but a waste to have bought it in the first place. The fact that it's there doesn't mean I need to eat it. That's a dieting truth that I came to myself, not learned through reading and certainly not learned by my family's habits.

That reminds me, I never ate that greek yogurt they wanted me to eat. It's too sour for my tastes. I'm sure she loves greek yogurt, by the way, given what we know about how poorly she perceives sourness. Guess she and I both have pretty wacky taste buds. Yeah, I don't know how to bring this post back to the point from here. I guess it's not so bad to end on a completely different note, is it?

Playing videogames again

Well, I think I made an improvement. I actually wanted to play a videogame today. So I went ahead and did it, and I had some fun! It even helped me to feel normal again. I didn't feel like playing for long, but that's not a bad thing. I do have responsibilities to attend to, after all. I'm just glad that I enjoyed involving myself in something, instead of just sitting and watching something.

Perhaps this is the same sort of involvement that I have with making those art messages and coding in general. I probably should try not to game too much, though. I should do it just about as much as watching shows, since those are both just entertainment. Whatever gamers may say, I'm not really gaining life-relevant skills from playing, at least not with the games I play. But making art messages and coding do give me practice skills I intend to put to work.

You probably fill your spare time with gaming. Could you imagine if we met in an MMO, oblivious to each others' identities behind the masks of our characters, and became friends again that way? Ah, that's certainly not something I'm aiming for. Considerations include the unlikely odds, the times and durations we'd play, and finally the awkward moment where I'd have to tell you who I am or suddenly abandon you. All in all, I actually hope we don't meet in a game. I think I might be playing more single-player games anyway.

I don't think I'll write any messages about multiplayer games that I'm playing. If for some reason you're reading this and still avoiding me, that could drive you away from a good game. But I'll probably make recommendations for single-player games just like with anime. Whatever you decide to occupy your free time with, I hope it's fun or that it helps you. Take care.

An itch passes

In previous message, I said that I'd been filled with an anxious energy. I titled the message Itchy. It's kind of absurd when you can so easily find a physical sensation to describe emotion, but it helps when there's physical symptoms of that emotion. That hand fidgeting, sometimes it was a scratching motion. Pretty direct link there to an itch.

There's two ways to get rid of an itch. Either you indulge it, by scratching it or bathing it or whatever else, or you ignore it. I did a tiny bit of indulgence, making pointless movements to oust energy. I mostly ignored it. An ideal of weakness got me through it. It wasn't a struggle, but a numbing. That apathy that had dried the meaning from my life drowns near everything, and that itch was no different. I still feel in creeping, but now it's something I can work with instead of being worked up by it.

I remember now that my true problem isn't with anxiety. What I manage is my depression. I am low, not high-strung. I'm closer to nowhere than I am to anywhere. But what's even more important is that I've never even had a problem with anxiety, depression or not. I'm going back to where I should be, neither nowhere nor anywhere but somewhere safe. That place where we'll smile together again.

Some disgusting walmart story

At the middle school that I went to, where my little brother goes now, there's this one history assignment: make a shield for class. I painted mine with a yellow background and an green trim, with an orange tabby on it and some M-looking red symbol at the top-center. The shape I chose for the shield had one point at its bottom and three on its top. My brother's shield is a simpler, classic three-point shield. Both shields are made of plywood. We both used duct tape to make handles on the back of the shields, but he also covered his shield in duct tape for a metallic well not really but you know look. He cut out a star in the duct tape and painted it red and blue.

Before he was able to get to that point, though, we had to buy some paints. So, we went to Walmart. We wandered around and until I became too lazy to look any further. I stopped to ask an employee where the paints were, jokingly disclaiming that as a guy asking for directions isn't my thing. The employee started to lead us to the paints, but we turned a corner to find a load of crap. No, literally, there was crap that I believe came from a large dog and was left there on the floor of Walmart. Another employee was scooping it up. Well, our employee was so flustered by the sight that she couldn't even continue leading us to the paints. "Welcome to Walmart," the other employee said. We got some incoherent directions and managed to make it to the isle ourselves.

I simply never thought that I would see Walmart's reputation present itself in front of me like that. I'd actually begun to wonder if my local Walmart was somehow immune to the oddities presented on the internet from locations across the nation. Wow. I don't even think there's a lesson to be learned. Just, things you don't expect will happen!

An old thought on crying

Crying is something you do alone, or with your best friend. You shouldn't stop crying, or eventually you won't be able to anymore. You'll need to cry when you need the drowning feeling at the bottom of your ribs to go away.

Itchy

Today was difficult. Internally difficult. Everything around me was fine, but as usual I'm not. I was filled with this uneasy energy, with directionless anxiety. It seemed mostly like a torrent of negative thoughts that I couldn't catch and think out. When one thought did rise into focus, it didn't stay long enough for me to come to a conclusion. I couldn't find something that I wanted to do, because I just felt so unable to grasp anything.

I decided to make myself watch some YouTube videos that have forever been on my Watch Later list. Most of them were music videos, so I started with the ones that weren't. Those did redirect my attention, though it felt meaningless to watch the first few. The last non-music video I watched was about a transgender suicide. It made me think about the various reasons for suicide. I also felt guilty because I have a great life surrounded by people who accept me. I feel bad that the fact that you no longer accept me is the cause of my suicidal and depressive thoughts. A little more self-loathing, you know. To be clear, I didn't start considering suicide again, by the way, I was only considering its reasons.

Then I watched this video:

I probably wanted to watch this for the adorable box people. I can't remember when I found this. But now I'm watching it when it's got my words. Which means, of course, that it's now in that playlist, They Sing the Words I Couldn't Find.

After replaying that several times, I went on to play some other songs from my playlist that I've memorized the lyrics to. Namely Drown, Rather Be, and Iris. I was able to sing along, but my singing reflected how I felt: rough, shallow, distracted. It wasn't as heartfelt as my usual attempts. On my way to school, Drown played on the radio, so I sang along then too.

My hand's been fidgeting. I still don't feel quite right. I hope that I can sleep tonight. Are you anxious about something, love?