I can't tell you how I'm doing with much effectiveness, but what I can do is discuss the minutia. This just so happens to be what we do best at iair. What it feels like is that I've reversed years of personal progress. When I speak of such things, the mind goes to stuff like bad habits and behaviors that I've rightfully repressed; I can say I have nothing of the such. My biggest "bad habits" or vices I would better describe them as are a lack thereof consistent time management and a feeling of selflessness so strong that I care more about others than I do myself. I do care about myself, of course, the closest to me are just more important. I've pondered about why this is the case and it didn't take me that long to come to the conclusion as to why it is the way it is, and it's because I've lived life in the passengers seat and I felt like I didn't give enough nor did I feel like I got given enough. I learned a lot about myself recently, and its clear that this tendency is stronger than I previously had imagined. There are many ways I can put it in simpler terms, but all that I can think of is just hopelessly chuunibyou. It is not worth mentioning. You must know principally that I think I care too much.
It feels impossible to say that you "care too much" without seeming completely insincere, but you can feel it when you do. Before anything else, it feels like sympathy beyond all reason. The need to apologize for things that you never had and never will ever have a hand in. When your chest hurts at night and you can't move your legs all that well, and all that's on your mind is the welfare of any one or multiple people, places, or things. A complete spiral in the strength of mind and body to the point of vulnerability beyond recognition, unsure if this is what I truly think or if its a product of the constant fear, uncertainty, and doubt thats implanted in my head whenever something looks to be the matter. A lot of things annoyed me today, and I wonder if they would have annoyed me otherwise had I not been in a heightened state. I'm usually apathetic to small annoyances and quirks, maybe minor antisocial behaviors if there's enough comedic factor to justify them. I have to ask myself if this was always the person I've been. Could it be, before anything else, a lack of a clear identity, perhaps related in some way, shape or form to the idea of "living life in the passengers seat"? Am I a male with BPD? Am I retarded? What's going on?
I will never have the answer. Well, I will, but it's more like I will never have the answer to the things I do to myself. I never let it show to anyone. I never want to speak about it because I feel so desperately the need to dance around the actual situation at hand in order to thoroughly describe a handful of feelings that are perfectly acceptable in some situations as opposed to others, and when bits and pieces do leak out I feel like I 1) overshared or 2) am pathetic beyond salvation. Maybe the latter oversells it. Whatever. But the worst part is knowing that things will be okay. The nature of most of my conflict(s) are temporary and things will return to the way they will and I will forget all about the burden and hurt I placed on myself for all intents and purposes. It's the existence of the potentiality that this time, whatever that time may be, will be the time that things are done in. The notion of unsalvagable damage up until I know for certain that everything's fine. Every single time, it doesn't come and it never will come. I can't let myself think that it ever will nor should I delude myself into thinking such. Often times I can't help it. Many times I can't help it. I actually just can't help it actually. I'm a little chud.
I don't want others to think of themselves as "below" what they're truly capable of, or myself to think that the turmoil I face as of present is entirely the fault of the luck of the draw that dictates the lives of just about everyone on Earth that isn't born with a silver spoon in hand. I believe that an "ideal" exists for everyone. Me, you, your dog, everything and everyone in-between; you'd just never know when it comes and when it will leave. This is to say that I think "the best of things" is a force similar to the Dao. Whether you swear it's right there with you or that it's seemingly gone forever, you'd never know unless you bothered to live another hour, day, week, month, year, etc. Up until you die, probably. If there's one big thing that I took away from The Count of Monte Cristo, it's that piece of my own philosophy. This sort of application of "wait and hope". Who knows if you have it all, who knows if you've lost it all, it's all ascertained with time, and all you can do is hold this "ideal" close and for it to manifest in some way you could truly know.
If you've enjoyed that entry in "Iair Metaphysical and Epistemiological Studies", a new journal published by MIT (Most Important Thing) Press, please consider the fact that you're never gonna get it again. Yup. Fuck you. Fuck you for knowing about me. Guess who's gonna hear about exams and joint pain and JOPing for only an hour a day up until I die an early age death? You. Now let's get into what you're really here for. "Did your exams go well?" everyone asks. "No" I say but it's okay because like I'm passing and passing in such a way that it sits in my mind that I'm not half-assing anything and am perfectly fine as I am. As for the dilemma posed upon me about my constant yo-yoing about my enjoyment of computers and engineering as a whole, ummm I don't know. I don't think the issue is in my inherent affinity for the discipline(s) at all but rather the existence of my mind being so erratic and several-track-minded that forces me to not be able to retain the material properly regardless of the amounts of studying I do. I've seen it in my exam scores, it's a "death by a thousand cuts" kind of situation. I understand the major details of just about everything, but it's the smaller, even much more simpler details that I begin to falter. I think back to when in my computer architecture class I was able to hand-write a bunch of bullshit RISC-V ASM instructions to create some program that does something to a single register, diagramming out my solutions and even forgetting to do an entire question in the meantime, and producing a favorable result. When it came time to ask me questions about the architecture of a computer itself, how the high level diagram we were provided actually works, the minutia of the program counter and the memory and the logic unit and just about fucking everything that has ever existed, I shit the bed. This is because computers are for babies and, if you like computers, or programming, you should probably kill yourself
I think my true calling must be in being an artist of some sort. I've written and lost so many narratives in my head that I may as well write the ideas out as high-level summaries as opposed to trying to slap them onto a page every now and then only to give up not too long after. I think of cool character designs and poses and everything inbetween, but I prioritize drawing on my expensive tablet device for notes about shit that's nowhere near as cool as flat chested girls or mekkamusume. I think of myself as a good writer but as someone with too much shame to really chuuni or freak it out on a fair few pages. It's dumb. I'm dumb. Couldn't you tell already? I think there's a massive mulligan in this train of thought though. It's not "stopping" me per se, I believe that it's just the natural progression of things being perpetually uncomfortable until it matches the vision in your mind exactly. I'm mutuals with people who pull this shit and honestly it pisses me off because dude you're good you're perfectly fine in fact better than most I'd say but I think this is a standard part of the human mindset Raped by western notions of success and maybe purity if you're really into stuff like girls kissing eachother. I should try when I have time and I'm satisfied with my day's normal work. It would help if I had people egging me on. In any which case, I could ask others to egg me on. It works. It worked for Anki and Japanese. If it weren't for sharing VCs with dudes like Jaden for hours on end with him putting together combinations of words I've never heard in regards to EOP I would never be able to parse grammar like I could because I'd never bother to read. We're becoming stronger in 2026. You and me
I head home for a few weeks where it's 100 degrees outside. I intend on sitting in the pool until my muscles and joints recover fully. I think about where I may be working over the summer if at all, with my compatriots in Florida, in proximity of my mortal enemy Bo Nix in Denver, maybe right where I am, I don't know. I think about studying abroad. "Edinburgh's nice" I say. "Kyoto's nice" I say. "I don't know" I conclude. I've come to this conclusion for the past 3 weeks and it's because I'm fucking retarded and I swear to god if I never watched the PL or listened to New Order this wouldn't even be a question fuck everything that has ever lived. Then again, time is running out. What will happen with iair? Will he do it? Probably. Will he not do it? Probably not. A life characteristic by indecision is one of iair. Regardless, everything will come together as it always does for iair. New wounds will heal, the scars of old wounds will disappear, and nobody will still read the blog because they hate me. Iaircord coming soon. We're gonna watch Last Exile. Be there.