Monday, October 29, 2012, 9:53PM
One day, I will or won't have a tulpa and look back and think,
Why did I hang on?
I've been saying it all semester. One day, I'll have time and energy to do the things I want to do. Until then, I am strapped to the metal table with a light in my face and a funnel in my mouth.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/11/159.html
Monday, October 29, 2012
Sunday, October 21, 2012
157
Monday, October 22, 2012, 1:45AM
Usually, I type a few paragraphs only to stuff it in a more personal journal and then replace the text wall with something that represents my mindset after I am mentally exhausted:
Giving up: I apologize to whomever spent any time with this endeavor. I can't let go of this, but it's dead.
Defiant: But I can't let my poor luck win. What would my tulpa say?
There are so many distractions, obligations, mental obstacles, needs to keep up with...
(Warning: Abstract)
Talking to my non-existant tulpa each day feels like it is the second time. I know that I have talked before, which is why I don't say first time. I cannot talk about my day because the knowledge I have of my day is like the knowledge I have of typing the previous sentence; I can describe how the letters got on the page due to logical cause and effect, but each letter is so insignificant in attachment and meaning to me that I cannot 'relive' it or derive any enjoyment from speaking of it.
My weekend flew by, despite talking about 'surviving the week until Friday'. I don't know what I did yesterday, therefore (by some definitions) it did not exist. However, the nauseous feeling of obligations still bubbles in my stomach from the week. The combination adds to this illusion. On the outside, life looks good. In reality, it is a nightmare. It is a nightmare to be tormented in this way because there seems to be nothing wrong to others.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/10/158.html
Usually, I type a few paragraphs only to stuff it in a more personal journal and then replace the text wall with something that represents my mindset after I am mentally exhausted:
Giving up: I apologize to whomever spent any time with this endeavor. I can't let go of this, but it's dead.
Defiant: But I can't let my poor luck win. What would my tulpa say?
There are so many distractions, obligations, mental obstacles, needs to keep up with...
(Warning: Abstract)
Talking to my non-existant tulpa each day feels like it is the second time. I know that I have talked before, which is why I don't say first time. I cannot talk about my day because the knowledge I have of my day is like the knowledge I have of typing the previous sentence; I can describe how the letters got on the page due to logical cause and effect, but each letter is so insignificant in attachment and meaning to me that I cannot 'relive' it or derive any enjoyment from speaking of it.
My weekend flew by, despite talking about 'surviving the week until Friday'. I don't know what I did yesterday, therefore (by some definitions) it did not exist. However, the nauseous feeling of obligations still bubbles in my stomach from the week. The combination adds to this illusion. On the outside, life looks good. In reality, it is a nightmare. It is a nightmare to be tormented in this way because there seems to be nothing wrong to others.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/10/158.html
Monday, October 15, 2012
156
Monday, October 15, 2012, 8:25PM
I'm not comfortable where I am at right now. That's good. I don't want to be comforted. I wouldn't do anything differently if I was comfortable. I want change.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/10/157.html
I'm not comfortable where I am at right now. That's good. I don't want to be comforted. I wouldn't do anything differently if I was comfortable. I want change.
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/10/157.html
Saturday, October 6, 2012
155
Saturday, October 6, 2012, 3:28PM
Over the past few weeks, I have been trying to interpret myself in order to be better at problem-solving.
In other news, some day last week, I went to a college play. The next day, after complementing that friend on a job well done, I realized that it was a different person. After smooth-talking my way out of that one (something about telling her that I thought she designed the costumes... while acting very tired and, therefore, forgivable) I realized that I really could not recognize people-- people I have known for years-- very well. One and a half hours ago, I greeted someone at the theater entrance again for a Broadway dance show who turned out to be someone I knew last year and whose name I cannot seem to remember. I thought this person I greeted was one of my roommates.
In other news, the tulpa project is not going well due to poor time management on my part.
Progress: none
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/10/156.html
Over the past few weeks, I have been trying to interpret myself in order to be better at problem-solving.
In other news, some day last week, I went to a college play. The next day, after complementing that friend on a job well done, I realized that it was a different person. After smooth-talking my way out of that one (something about telling her that I thought she designed the costumes... while acting very tired and, therefore, forgivable) I realized that I really could not recognize people-- people I have known for years-- very well. One and a half hours ago, I greeted someone at the theater entrance again for a Broadway dance show who turned out to be someone I knew last year and whose name I cannot seem to remember. I thought this person I greeted was one of my roommates.
In other news, the tulpa project is not going well due to poor time management on my part.
Progress: none
http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/10/156.html
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