Today I've seen something utterly outrageous, and it's stirring up some horrible anxiety every time I think about it. It keeps rearing it's hideously ugly head and I really just want to unsee it more than anything else at this moment. It's about something this sick, repulsive freak said to someone I know over the internet. His ass belongs in a god damn prison cell where he can't do $#%^ to anyone. I just..... I'm not going on about it anymore.

In other news, I'm gonna be seeing tomorrow's solar eclipse I first learned about them when I was about 9 or 10, and I've wanted to see one ever since. If my memory is correct, we're expected to get 84% totality where I live. On April 8th of 2024, there'll be another that goes pretty much directly over us

Also, we're moving houses very soon. This new house has three bedrooms, so I don't have to sleep seven feet from my brother anymore I can close the door and know that nobody will come in without prior notice. You know, I don't really mind the fact that we live in a bit of a rundown shack right now. I'm not that ungrateful, I know there are hundreds of millions, hell, probably a couple billion people living in worse housing, if even anything. It's the privacy element more than anything else that I'm looking forward to.

Also, I've been reflecting on how many times I've already moved, or helped others in the family move houses. I think the first time was in 2006, when I was 9 years old, and we moved from an apartment complex to a house on the countryside. In prior years too early on in my life for me to remember or to help move furniture, I'd lived in several other homes. The first was a mobile home in a trailer park... great place to know was your first home (*sarcasm*), then my parents, because they were still married at the time, moved in with my grandmother on my mom's side, then they moved into a suburban home elsewhere, then they got divorced and my mom moved into that aforementioned apartment building. After the move in 2006, there was late 2010/new year's time of 2011 when we moved from there to a house back in town, while my brother and I also had to help my dad move into his childhood home as a temporary stay where my grandmother had recently moved out, temporary because it was only about 2 months or so before he moved to a new place and we, of course, had to help out again. It was my great-grandmother's former house (she died in 2009, or something like that), but it was in a pretty bad dumpy area, so he ended up moving again in 2013, this time into the place where my brother and I live now because my mom wouldn't quit trying to control our lives, acting like she was 100 percent undeniably correct about what's best for us, and she ended up booting us out. Then, in the summer of 2015, we helped my uncle move into a new place, and in the summer of 2016, my grandmother moved from the house directly across the street from where we live currently to my uncle's house that he'd moved into the prior year, so we, once more, got to move furniture. And now we're getting ready to do it again. And.... I think I've rambled enough

This has been on my mind all the time as of late. Am I executing it well... not really, but I sincerely believe that as a product of all this anguish, I've become a little bit stronger. Even at this moment, dealing with a lingering sense of anxiety and feeling rather distraught, I'm not closing down. Only months ago, I'm pretty sure I would have called it quits in a state like this, but after many repeated relapses, I'm leaning toward "I don't want that." I always lose the intent, and yes, it returns, and it fades again, and it returns again... but I've allowed it to persist for too long, so I'm reaching for what I really want.

It's still hard as all hell and in fact, I'm back in that process of enduring a severe emotional collapse every night, but it won't sway me. It's really just a damn lie is all. I can ramble on to myself with all the familiar sayings of how living isn't worth it, but that's not what I'm here for, is it?

Is knowing, or at least being 99% sure, that they're gonna believe "it didn't have to be this way."

They don't understand how disgraceful that is. The underlying notion of that statement is this... I'm "giving up on hope" because I didn't have the strength to go on. That is blatant disrespect. I am giving up on FAUX hope. If they could swap lives with me even for just one damned day, that would be plenty sufficient enough for them to recognize the hell that I live in, and that hell is my own mind, where all the misery is locked away in a chamber without windows.

###$ them. ###$ what they think. Also, there's this thesis I have mixed opinions about. Does letting someone know, in your irreversible absence, that you don't love them make it easier for them to forget you?

Oh $#%^, this has become much less vague than I'd hoped.

I had a dream. About her. Well, it was about K, who I haven't talked about in quite awhile; not the individual I spoke of more recently.

I would really prefer my own mind to not screw with me like that. In the dream, she reciprocated my feelings. I had a couple of other ones with the same theme, but those must have been about 2 years ago or something. This was the first time I'd dreamed of her in... well, I don't know how long it's been, I don't remember what the previous one was. I recall feeling very... shy. But it was a wonderful feeling, it was amazing.

Until I woke up. The very first thing that came to mind this morning, as soon as I woke up, was "it wasn't real." Well, not those exact words, but the realization of that. And it was painful. I could really do without such reminders.

This might sound like another generic, temporary mood-influenced post, and something that directly opposes what I always say about hope that lacks sufficient reasoning. But this isn't something I would say if I didn't really believe it.

Something has happened. I'm headed not in circles anymore, but in a direction that will take me away from here. It's beginning. The thing is, it isn't hope, it's acceptance of the fact that hope is meaningless. The most powerful thing we can do when we lack confidence and doubt ourselves is to just move on anyway. Move on without hope.

My destination is probably entirely different from what most would believe based on this writing. Back when I was a child of about 9 years old or so, I remember thinking "I'll never go there." Then, at around 14-15, it started to become questionable. But now...... I'm really beginning to like it.