Having trouble getting my head into blogging mode right now.
Like I have said before, it can be hard for me to go from my usual mentally overstimulated yet somehow also sleepy state to the relatively more focused and directed state of mind required to string words together in a form that hopefully makes some kind of sense.
Compared to my usual free floating high flying genius state of mind, writing seems so very very… linear.
Which is a very good thing because it means that at least twice a day, I have to come down to Earth and up to speed enough to get my words done, and I think that in and of itself help me be a tad more sane.
It helps, in fact, almost as much as the cathartic release of my thoughts, emotions, and ideas from my mind prison that was the whole point of starting this thing back in 2011.
My how time flies. Yet never gets anywhere, at least with me.
I sometimes wonder if I am too mentally stable for my own good. And secretive.
I keep coming back to how I don’t let my mental illness show lately. How I keep that smooth façade of mine going any time there are other people around and therefore I am only truly “myself” when I am alone.
But I don’t want to be myself. I want to be that other guy. He seems cool.
And yet I spend the vast majority of my time all alone in my landfill of a bedroom, keeping myself distacted and entertained (but not happy) with video games.
Video games eat up my life as they eat up my time and I know that if I am to get anywhere in life before I die, I am going to have to spend time away from them.
But the very thought of that makes a deathly chill run through my heart and gives me an attack of the sort of clutching panic I associate with suffocation.
For some reason.
That is how I know that I am addicted to video games : the very thought of doing without them for even just a couple hours a day makes me feel like I am going to die.
And I know how crazy that is. But that doesn’t make it go away like in some heavy handed 60’s science fiction story where they aliens disappear when you stop believing they are real.
In my updated version, our existentialist hero would still triumphantly scream, “You’re not even real!” to the aliens, but they would just shrug and say, “Yup. ” and then go right back to zapping his ass.
But boy, I bet you sure feel clever now, huh Earthling? You really nailed us.
Now I must warn you, this next anal probe may hurt a little, but it will probably hurt so bad you find religion and lose it again instead.
More after the break.
A brief update
That problem I had with my game, Pathfinder : Wrath of the Righteous, seems to have resolved itself. It is as if it sensed that I was getting sick of its bullshit and was thinking about saving myself a lot of grief by uninstalling it and said to itself, “Oh shit, I better get my act together!” and started working properly again.
In fact, it’s actually running better now than it was before the problem with it hanging on the opening loading screen even showed up, so either I scared into straightening up and flying right or the recent minor code update to the game did it.
I’d prefer to think the computer fears my wrath, but get real.
The only flaw in the code update theory is that the problem showed up after the code update and fixed itself like two days later, without a further update.
So as improbable as it is (to put it mildly), the wrath based theory is still in play.
If so, I need to figure out how to use my powers for good.
And by good, I mean money.
Maybe companies could pay me to come threaten their computers periodically to scare them into doubling uptimes… OR ELSE.
“I mean it! We’ll replace you motherfuckers with PUNCH CARDS if you don’t improve!
And get away from that coffee…. coffee is for closers!”
Yeah, um… maybe not.
Struggling to activate
That’s what I feel like I am trying to do lately.
Even though I was only tangentially that kind of kid, I have always felt a connection to the weird hyperactive kids who were in and out of various kinds of therapies and always ending up leaving class to go do some kind of testing and so on.
I mean, there was a period, around grade 2 (I think), where that was totally me. The school district were utterly baffled by this kid who showed up already reading at a grade four level and knowing all of numbers and math up to but not including long division. yet who tripped over his own feet and bumped into things and had terrible penmanship.
In their testing based world, these things did not belong all in the same person. If someone could barely tie their shoes and had printing that looked like it had written during an earthquake, they were retarded and went to Special Ed.,
But if a kid could read and write and do basic math at the grade level where most kids were struggling to keep up with Dick and Jane, they were gifted and you put them in a special class for gifted kids.
So it’s Special Ed either way, but on the opposite ends of its spectrum.
Looking back, it feels to me like they had a tragic lack of imagination. The concept “intellectually gifted but physically retard” apparently did not computer to them.
This is what happens when people let the testing tell them what to do. They become blind to the greater context into which the test is supposed to fit.
I suppose my cheerfully cooperative with a dash of incredibly stubborn and difficult personality didn’t help either.
I went through a LOT of tests in that period as the system tried to figure me out. I didn’t mind at all because class was boring and the tests were new and different and fun.
And I enjoyed all the attention too, I think.
Unfortunately, being unable to figure me out, the system just gave up on me. My life in special education ended and I was left to languish in regular education and be bored out of my mind from mid grade 3 on.
It’s not my fault that I was a special little snowflake who needed some very special handling and treatment (that I did not get) in order to thrive.
I was just a kid doing what came naturally to me. Like any other kid.
It’s not my fault you didn’t have a slot for my five dimensional peg in your 2D holes.
I deserved better.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.