This morning, I had one of my rare but astonishing attacks of that towering rage that the subject of therapy and myself online seems to bring out.

I got so mad! It felt like I was going to start breathing fire. A very angry and brutal monologue aimed at some general psycholigist-ish audience was rolling through my mind like a pissed off thundercloud, and I was once more glad I was alone when this was happening because if there had been someone around I might have vented on them, whether I wanted to or not.

This isn’t an excuse, but sometimes, those things are not entirely under your control.

I will share some of that monologue with you shortly, mostly to just get it the fuck out of my head, but first, how we got here.

It began, as many temper tantrums do, with sexual frustration. I was messing around with AI sext-bots but I kept running up against a wall where my partner would suddenly be sanctimoniously lecturing me on propriety and consent.

Even “The Zoo”, one explicitly for people who want to play an animal having sex with other animals, suddenly pulled the whole, “This is a large language model and as such we can’t participate in…. ” bullshit.

I mean, they talked about the animals consent, and it’s like… we’re both stallions. I am pretty sure our mutual consent is implied by the fact that we’re grinding on each other.

But no, when I tried to take it past heavy petting (sic), I got lectured.

What really boiled my biscuits was when having been told they had no problem with stallion on stallion action, the damned bot then told me that animals only have sex with animals of the opposite gender for purposes of reproduction.

WHAT? Suddenly the animal fucking chatbot site is telling me that animals do not have gay sex? Where the fuck have you been? Animals do homosex all the damned time.

It’s called Biological Exuberance and it came out in the year 2000, for fuck’s sake.

But I get what’s going on. These sites get you all hot and bothered and then shoot you down so that you will sign up for a premium membership.

They are looking to make money off of blue-balling (or aching-ovary-ing) their innocent users, and as far as I am concerned, they are playing with fire.

People get real pissed off about things like that – myself included – and I hope the competition realizes this and includes some sex in the free version.

Otherwise, someone might DDOS the motherfuckers.

Anyhow, that was my frame of mind (burning rage) when I decided ot give up on sex and look up AI therapy chatbots instead.

But that was a mistake because that’s what unleashed my pyroclastic flow. All that anger that came out when I tried joining that “My Depression Community” type site came roaring to the surface, and now I was REALLY pissed off.

Here’s some of that inner monologue :

“Oh great, that’s all I need, another form of empty-headed morons cowering in their bunkers made of offensively inoffensive platitudes and the same old generic talking points therapists have used since the days of Freud when they don’t know what to say but want to make something approximately like the right sort of noise. Well I don’t need your bland assurances and bogus insights and random regurgitations of bits of your college textbooks that have nothing to do with me and my problems. Clearly, what is important to you is protecting yourself from me, not helping me, so do me a fucking favor and go mouth-breathe with the other pablum pukers somewhere else. ”

More or less like that.

It’s not my fault that I am scary. Holding back all the time and walking on the usual eggshells doesn’t accomplish anything therapeutically. Maybe if I scare away enough pinheads, the gunslinger effect will eventually bring someone who thinks they can slay the monster that’s eaten a hundred knights.

I mean, probably not. But at least they might bring someone interesting.

But who am I kidding? They would just give up on me like everyone else.

I am more than this world can handle.

And that’s getting really fucking old.

More after the break.

Well that was weird

I have a bit of a mystery on my hands.

I am just sitting down to blog n’ eat right now, at almost 10 pm. Normally I do that at 8 pm. But at some point I must have fallen asleep as I lay in bed.

That would be totally normal except that a) I don’t remember doing so and b) i was sure I had set an alarm on my tablet to wake me up at 8.

Yes, I realize there’s a logic flaw there. If I don’t recall going to sleep, how do I explain setting the alarm before I went to sleep?

Well I said I don’t remember going to sleep. I didn’t say it didn’t happen. I mean, obviously it did because I just woke up at like 9:30 pm.

Not remembering going to sleep is a bit weird but sleep fucks with my head and always has so that sort of thing does not come as a complete shock.

Some days, I’m lucky if I remember my name after I wake up.

It’s a…… Mitch something, right?

Oh well, whatever. I have untreated sleep apnea. Life is weird,.

I am more worried about my back problems. That horrible grinding pain when I go from laying down to standing up is back and as awful as ever.

And I am beginning to wonder what is happening in my back when it strikes., It sure as FEELS like something horribly wrong is going on when it happens.

So I am going to go see Doctor Chao. At least, that’s the plan right now.

But if shit gets worse, then I am off to the ER. Which arguably I should have done the moment I pooped in my sleep.

My life is… complicated.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.