A lot of uncertainty and a lot of hope and a lot of pain. There’s a lot happening and it makes me upset. The first thing that comes to mind is that my wrists hurt, and have been hurting not as a carpal tunnel thing (I do hopefully believe) but as the result of lingering tendonitis due to weird hand posture (again, not related to carpal tunnel, as this was the result of weird hand posture accumulated over a few days. It’s what plagues me the most when everything comes down to it, seeing how the computer is supposed to be my job and everything like that, so it’s just like whatever I’m guess. Just fuck me more I guess. Actually, please.

Why am I uncertain and why am I hopeful? Well, let’s begin during the summertime. I’ve got fun planned. I’m thinking about making a bunch of shitty little microcontroller projects on a breadboard just because I can (and also I’d like to put some of it on my resume honestly) and also travel a little bit around the United States before I get shipped off to the beautiful and ever mysterious Orient. If all goes right, I’ll be able to purchase a myriad of otaku wares in New York City and lose my anal virginity in Florida in just about a 2 month span, although all of that would certainly get in the way of the project based learning I wanted to do for myself (and also the government documentation I should end up getting although it will pose no use for me until next year, such as a drivers license).

What’s important though is that I continue to live in the present and accept my role as the receiver of a spitroast from just about everything that has ever existed. The role of iair in society spans far beyond being a bridge for others to cross into the role of being a medium for the world to derive sexual gratification out of the cruel and unusual suffering of one individual whose ambition, although sparse and really unambitious considering the expectation he himself knew he’d be hampered with upon instantly committing to the responsibilities he had been glorifying for the past 2-3 years up to a certain point in the year 2024, continued to tear up mind and body alike. I think of the things that are going wrong, have gone wrong, and can go wrong, and have begun to accept a world where everything is irreconcilable and that they will never return to the way they once were before. The brightest stars only burn the fastest because they expend their energy sources as such, and as I feel more and more components ejecting off of my hull I have to accept the possibility of my demise to some extent, and I will almost feel as if it were all for naught. “Nature knows not of mercy, to pray is to accept defeat”.

At the same time you have to look at the things you had and wonder if everything would really be better if it were all in place now. It should go without saying that whenever we look back on the past, whether it be a week ago, or several years ago, we forget so many minute details that we create a mental image of a time when we potentially could have been happier, even if it were just a little bit. Often times I tell myself this in passing: “one day, I’m probably going to look back on these current times fondly, even though there’s clearly some sort of passive suicidal idealization going through my mind constantly”. I see it as a way to try and send a mental time capsule ahead in time without feeling the need to do any of the boring sentimental stuff like scheduled videos or letters with little notes on them that read “open this in a year!” or something like that. I don’t feel as if those things are able to capture minutia as does reminiscing on individual moments does anyway. This is why my opinion on photography has changed greatly. I used to hate how constantly my mother took photos, but I took it upon myself (as a moral duty before anything else) to understand exactly why she would take as many photos as she would. For one, I no longer spend every day in the house. I’m not around for long anymore. My face and my voice are a luxury with all of my other senses unavailable. I’ve begun to feel this way, too. This is to say that I’ve learned human emotion and that human emotion is “missing somebody”. It feels as if sometimes I actualize this feeling with the fear that I may never see them again, which, although it is irrational, is nonzero; taking my pets into account with this thought makes me so upset that I don’t even want to begin trying to articulate my thoughts on the matter.

I have a ton of great memories and not a lick of evidence that it ever happened outside of reminiscing with maybe one other person. I’ve had so many great memories despite how banal my life feels on an everyday basis I’m sure-- ones that I forgot existed-- that which I wasn’t able to properly capture or understand in the moment because of my ability to just “live” in it; like a cloud over my head if not a penchant to be as morose as possible because I’m like depressed or some shit I don’t know. I think I never felt as if I was working hard enough or if I was satisfied enough of my own achievements to warrant the slightest bit of enjoyment out of myself. I got to watch a movie, Beau Travail (1999), which I found to encapsulate the feeling of neither living in the moment or being able to do so, although my inadequacy has never manifested itself as the necessity to project my frustration onto others. The point is that it seems that only when my camaraderie is gone entirely that I’ll be able to join in their festivities. Each passing day comes the approaching reality that the liberties that I’m afforded now (and that which I either cannot take or refuse to take) will disappear into my twenties and beyond. This has spurred a crisis of multiple facets at the ripe age of 19 that I’m unsure I’ll be able to describe the scope of. I just think I constantly do so much, rather so little, that I end up regretting in the end.

Two years ago I promised myself too much. Everything seemed to be going right, anyways. I wanted to believe in a future where everything would fall into place like it seemed to be. But nothing really has. Down to the smallest things I was sure I’d find security in came the complete lack thereof. I’m guessing I just have to get used to this for the rest of my life, then. There’s not much “meaning” I had then left for me now. All that’s left is for me to find that meaning for myself, although I know that nothing’s really changed for me in terms of the handling of my major depressive disorder (outside of not leaving piles of clothes on the floor, so I guess that’s pretty good if not anything else). It’d also be foolish to say that I experienced no semblance of personal growth since then, despite the fact that I do feel as if I’m effectively back at square one.

I didn’t know how easy it was for one person to change you for the better. But it happened, and I still feel it to an extent. They leave their mark on you and you leave their mark on them. It’s nothing that just goes away, not like a scar but more like a stitch. I probably wouldn’t be able to properly articulate my thoughts the way I do now before all of this happened, but I can now. A large volume of the blog’s earlier works focused a lot on my feelings of paranoia and schizoid/avoidant tendencies. They aren’t gone, of course, but it feels like they’ve been significantly de-amplified. This is the importance of being able to confide in someone with any semblance of love, intimacy, and/or vulnerability; it is the rawest expression of human emotion that we’ve commodified and thrown away for the sake of convenience and that which we now feel the consequences of every single day in a world driven by no other desire than the illusion of capital gain and corporate productivity. If you haven’t found this somewhere yet, you almost certainly will, and you wouldn’t know what form it’d take to begin with either.

If it weren’t obvious already, all of this writing is fueled by the desire to “find a way forward”, that is to say to “search for new meaning”. If all that I promised for myself is spoiled, gone, or diminished, then other things will have to take its place. But what? That’s not a question for me to answer unless I feel like setting myself up for disaster. All of human wisdom is confined in the words “wait” and “hope”, so as all of my options seem exhausted I must both now wait and hope. This course may correct itself and, hopefully, you may never hear from me again. The world will be a better place without iair.

おまけ

I would like to remind everyone that if you would like to talk that I most definitely can. I’m effectively on call 24/7 because I love my computer. I’d like to have interesting conversations as they usually break up the filler in my day and are intellectually stimulating sometimes (I’ve had some long dumbass conversations honestly). All of my accounts are plastered everywhere and if you’re not in the discord then I have some horrible things to say to you that I will choose not to.

I sometimes add songs at the end of posts. I have a lot of songs I’ve been listening to. I’d like to have a little Iair Weekly playlist working at the bottom of these instead of just a few songs. I will do this right now, actually. This is the Iair Weekly playlist:

- Ordinary World by Duran Duran
- Disappointed by Electronic
- All the Way by New Order
- Joga by Bjork
- Ray of Light by Madonna
Very important to take a break between these and strongly emphasize that I don’t have a vagina
- POWER EXCHANGE by Cities Aviv
- This Must Be The Place by Talking Heads (this is cheating since I actually haven’t listened to this one in weeks because I bawl whenever I hear it because I’m a bitch)
- Magnetic North by Sasha

Bye for now