Hello, good friend. I know I’ve been missing for quite a while now. I can’t actually say I’m sorry, and you would agree if you saw the quality of the things I wrote in the past few days. Not as bad as the last “anxiety warriors” chapter, but that one has more of a personal reason to continue to exist. Anyhow, here I am again, trying to write something that’s at least worthwhile.

To be completely open with you, I’m having a rough easy time these days. What do I mean by a rough easy time? Well, it’s actually quite simple: I’ve been doing absolutely nothing I believe I’m supposed to. I’ve been playing video games a lot—with friends, which makes it better—but it doesn’t transform the amount of time I’ve been spending on it into a useful thing. I’m going to sleep at least at 1 a.m. and always waking up late for work.

But at the same time, there haven’t been any negative consequences to this behavior of mine other than me not getting half the money I could (but I don’t really care about that) and the crippling feeling that I’m a blob of garbage whose only use is to lurk around people, making everything slow down and decay. Quite a shitty feeling, I must say. But plot twist, and I expect you already knew this, it’s one of the most comfortable feelings ever.

And to be honest, even though I’m getting late for my ship to the moon and all the other little plans I have for myself, the only way I can see to escape this blob that I made of myself is to be genuinely tired of it—which, as of now, I’m not. I’ve been getting a lot of satisfaction from feeling bad about myself, from “wasting my time” (I’m explaining those quotes, just give me a sec), from feeling that I need to muster up some kind of courage to try to talk to the girl that I like, from not talking to some of my friends for a really long time and at the same time feeling that I don’t have many friends left. You get the point. It’s like being happy that you just got your hands chopped off because now you couldn’t do shit even if you wanted to. (I was going to make a more guttural/sexual analogy, but I haven’t made any of those since I started writing these notes, so I preferred to let this one pass.)

About this “wasting my time”: it’s important to say that the perception of wasted time comes from a misconception that there’s such a thing as a time which is yours to spend. And that is, to some extent, true. The trick is that in reality, this time you’re using does not exist as a coin, even though it is also limited in quantity. (I’m sorry for the weird text, but I’m struggling to make words from what I’m thinking.) The thing is, I feel that when we, or other people in our lives, say that we’re letting time pass by, we don’t see that just as you can’t be “not in a place,” you can’t “not use your time.” For we are always choosing our actions with a purpose in mind, whether we like it or not. The perception that we should be doing something else is weird because if you aren’t doing that something else, it is because you solely chose not to. The trick to using your time the way you want is to realize that you’re already doing what you want. And if you want to stop doing what you are doing, you must stop wanting to do it. (And of course, I do not refer to situations where we are not in control of our actions…)

I’ve made the decision to uninstall my social media and all the games on my laptop (I already had none on my cell phone for quite some time now) to see what happens. I don’t think it’ll last, and I’m not sure what I expect to get from it. The two times I did this during the pandemic had very contrasting results and reasons not all similar to why I’m doing this now, so there’s not a lot of precedent to help me figure out what I’m doing. But I’m doing it anyway.

I just want to throw up until there’s nothing left but myself inside of me. And don’t worry; after that, I’ll brush my teeth and we can talk normally. I totally agree with you: hygienics #1!

PS: I wrote this while at work because there’s nothing to do here and I’ve been getting $0 this week, which sucks a lot and makes me want to quit. But just out of stubbornness, I promised myself I’d stay here until next semester. My boss is awesome, but this ain’t for me. Holy fuck, I’m fucking tired of this shitty-ass job where no matter how dedicated I am, the fact that it all depends on luck—which I have none of—fucking sucks.