Here I am, sitting on one of the cheap but very comfy couches at KPU Richmond at 2:40 in afternoon, waiting for my class to start at 4, eating 7-11 pizza and drinking a retarded expensive 500 ml of Diet Coke, and typing to you wonderful people.

The pizza is a lot better than I remember. The sauce has actual flavour.

As you know, I had therapy at 1 today, and I decided that, after the usual post-therapy trip to 7-11, I would get Joe to drop me off at school instead of home so I could hang out and chill at KPU RICHMOND for a while.

This is a deliberate exercise in low level social exposure therapy for me. Part of the deal is that I can sit wherever I like as long as it is not tucked away out of sight somewhere. No hiding!

Heck, I just upped the stakes by sprawling out on the couch. I have never been this comfortable in public before.  Take tgat, social anxiety !

(Though I now face a social paradox. : every social instinct tells me I should not be wearing my sneakers while on the couch. But they also say I should not, under any circumstances, take my shoes off in public. I am solving this problem by dangling my feet of the couch, exactly the way I used to do when I was a teenager and my mother told me to get my feet off the couch.

Teenagers are such assholes.)

I realized some during therapy today, something that I think I have said before but this time it really clicked :

Nobody is good at structuring their own time. Nobody.

That is why both the retired and the unemployed (and the children of the rich) have a much greater rate of depression and suicide than the general population.
Human beings need an external source of structure in their lives to give predicability and purpose to their lives, and without it, they wither away.

And to think, I have been beating myself up for not being able to create an entire life out of nothing when that is something nobody can do.

Well, maybe Very Organized People can do it.

Depression really does lie. It told me I sucked for being unable to do the impossible, and I believed it for a long, long time.It

One of the most important aspects of recovery is forgiving yourself for being human.

(—)

After class now, and grr, I missed my bus and have to wait for the next one.

I want to be home, eating and blogging and living the good life.

And I guess that if I was going to get my new PC today, I would have heard by now.

Truly, this life is naught but a vale of tears.

Are these really short paragraphs irritating you?

I am very tempted to get something sweet from Tim Horton’s in order to soothe my pain, but that is the sort of thing that gotcme into this mess in the first place. So I will resist.

Mental note : find a healthier way to activate the reward center of my brain. Food is easy but it can kill. And religion is out of the question. Maybe I eill just concentrate on getting really good at masturbation.

Do the really advanced stuff that requires an elaborate system of pulleys and chains and erotic statuary.

If I was rich, I would have an entire garden devoted to erotic statuary. Not because I am sexually attracted to masonry, but because I like to celebrate the wonder that it human sexuality in all its glory.

Plus, it would make a wonderful setting for my orgies.

And believe me, if I was rich, there would be orgies.

(—)

Home and fed now. Back to orgies. Always a cheerful subject.

I wouldn’t be hosting these orgies simply because I am a huge pervert. I mean, I am, but that’s not why.

It’s because I truly believe in sexual freedom and the spiritual power of satiation. Most people go around with unsatisfied desires that they can’t even recognize in themselves, let alone address. These unmet desires taint the soul and prevent people from truly being free.

My orgies would be events aimed at healing the damage. They would be safe spaces where everybody can be who they want to be and get what they want to get. I would work very hard to match people’s desires, so that the person who dreams of being stepped on by a fat lady in a maid’s uniform wearing rubber boots finds the person who wants nothing more than to be that fat lady.

However, that might not always be possible, and so I would hope to attract a dedicated group of followers who share my philosophy and who, like me, would love to make people’s dreams come true.

I would especially need highly adaptable beautiful women, because while I love all body types from petite sylph to Ruebenesque amazon, the world is full of men whose ultimate fantasy involves sex with really beautiful women, and I don’t discriminate.

There will be plenty of handsome sexy men around for the ladies too.

And it wouldn’t just be about sex. It would be about all the desire of humanity. Activities would range from rutting like stunned monkeys and stuffing your face with awesome food to attending a symposium on the role f labour unionism in international communism.

Whatever you want, you get, inasmuch as it is in my power to grant and nobody gets hurt who doesn’t like it.

I bet people would learn a lot about themselves once their hidden desires have been satisfied. They might just find out who they really are. They might just experience a great spiritual awakening. They might be able to resolve traumas that have festered unexamined for decades.

They might just have a really good time. That’s totally cool too.

The one rule would be consent. And that rule would be ironclad. No exceptions. If you do something to someone against their will, you might just lose your keys to paradise.

Also, if it’s a major infraction, I may kick the shit out of you.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.