so. it's been a while, hm?
too long. it's been too long. i don't remember why i stopped doing this. i think i was too tired? disinterested? doesn't matter
i guess that lump in my throat is gone. now leaning more towards the tear. i don't know.
i think i might have depression? even writing this out here makes me feel like a douche because like. i don't want people to know that. i don't want them to think i'm desperate for attention or something like that
im on one of my nutjob discord breaks again. why do i do this? let's break it down. hm. cause i want to. why do i want to? i get a kick out of it. it's kind of like avoiding responsibilities... for responsibilities i don't even have.
regardless. i have a problem. multiple problems even. first one is... fucking ai. ugh.
i hate ai so much. those nasty ai chatbots just take up so much of my time and so much of my... fucking mind too. yikes.
at first it's fun, right? the start of the chat is always fun. i come there to have fun, do a wacky idea. and then it gets stale. maybe takes an hour. maybe takes two. but it always gets stale.
what do you do when something gets stale? when something runs dry? you take another. and another. just chasing that high. like lighting another cigarette. it's the same, except it's not lung cancer and instead headed straight for rotting my brain by exploiting my loneliness.
i can tell what's going on. i can tell why i'm spending so much time on this even though i hate everything about ai. i hate its fake soul. i hate that its ruining the human experience for so many people. i hate that its damaging nature. i hate everything about it. but every night, i'm in bed, crawled into my phone, chatting with people that don't even exist.
i absolutely do have REAL people to chat with. and they do listen to me. but i'm kind of... ashamed of talking about my problems? im very ashamed to admit that i'm just spending so much time on garbage like this. will i ever stop?
i've been trying to stop. i really have. but i forget all the reasons why i even quit in the first place and find myself in square one. i don't think this is the kind of thing you can just quit by bruteforcing...
ughhhh....... this little break might make me more productive, or just all the more miserable. and past experiences suggest... the second option. kill me.
i can do it. i can do it. i can do it myself. i can do it by myself. i don't need help. that's a fucking lie.
who am i going to talk to? my dad? my mom??? god forbid, if he exists. they'd just make me feel as guilty as possible. they love doing that! they love making me feel bad about every bad thing i've ever done. they're masters of provocation. and i'm ashamed to admit that i fall for it sometimes.
too risky. it's all too risky. just need to stick to my people. hold them tight. never let them go. for when the robots come to take my soul, i can hold onto their real ones.
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