TheFourth187
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Open diary, it's a little embellished but most of what's in here is a true story. At the very least its how I feel. Anybody who opens the link is a commenter
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Gdt1SgYKhIEXPl5XsIDsppZ-NwkchcMjqgAga2vpxQ8/edit?tab=t.0
Part 1 b
I am stuck in a patchwork life. There are only 1,000,000 things that can happen and most have already happened. I am experiencing the same events over and over again. At first I thought it was da ja vu. Then I rationalized by forgetting until I was reminded of the answer. An example to help you understand would be asking a friend a question about some mathematical concept or spelling or the events of a book(all of which have happened) and they give the same response. They do not comment on this however. What finally broke me was when another person did the same thing in reverse. It proved to me it wasn’t me forgetting. I now know there is an obviously finite amount of things to do. Imagine running out of colors to see. Happened when you were 10 and said maroon or chartreuse. Maybe it's right now to tell you about the existence of olo. Maybe you could understand it by running out of tic tac toe boards. Maybe it's running out of clothing combinations if you are both vain enough to remember and not vain enough to care about only having four shirts and four shorts. I like shorts. I am a slave in my own mind as well. My free will doesn’t exist outside of my mind. I only realize I didn’t choose my own actions until after I remember they are repeated. I listen to only 3 genres of music. 1940’s, electronic, then 1990’s. In that order. I listen to the same songs over and over. The infuriating part is that it is like wading through a swimming pool with pee that doesn’t mix into the pool. I randomly can be experiencing a new moment, talking to a new girl or walking into a store and they repeat an exact line of dialogue you heard years ago. I wonder what it means to be real. Free will have a possible definition. All things that have “freedom” are paradoxical. That is the basis of many anti-theist arguments and governmental laws. The “freedom” of being able to take away another person's freedoms is restricted. Or a God so powerful can’t make a rock he can’t lift it. I hope the stock market repeats itself. Maybe then I'll be able to buy a rock so big it can’t be bought.
I am writing in hopes that I can catch a sequence as it's happening. Maybe change it. I haven’t gotten sick in a while. I assume that might be the next recurrence. I should start there. Last time I was sick I remember the stain pattern I made from drooling on my king sized bed. Maybe I will draw that and hang it on a wall and get coughed on. I am not doing this for the sake of proof. I have my own already. Too many circumstances. I am doing this to get better at it. The big rock wasn’t just a joke. Every once in a while something really big will happen and I always have the feeling that it won’t happen again. Ever since I was a kid I had that feeling. Of course at the time I didn’t know that I would eventually run out of things. This sentence makes sense when I say what the things are that won’t repeat. When mine turtle died after being hit by an car. My jaw hurts from constant yawning. I pop it quite often by putting my index finger of my left hand and pushing the part of my ramus horizontally in line with my left mandible.
I went to the store to buy milk because it reminds me of when I was younger. It is the only recreational drink I have ever liked. Everything else is either too sweet or not sweet enough to make it taste better than water or milk. I am usually a very particular man. I order my clothes. I have an extra drawer for socks that have not been worn and as such have no sand in them. This makes the sensation of wearing them very pleasant. Since it isn't a financially responsible thing to do to spend 100 dollars on socks every month I save them for when I feel like wearing them. I have defined this to mean when I have had a bad day. Ironically I never end up wearing them because there are only 3 possibilities in which I could wear them but all also stop me from wearing them. First is that I am putting on my socks for the day. Nothing has happened that day yet because I can’t leave my house without socks on for anything bad to happen. So I put on normal socks on any morning because nothing bad could possibly have happened yet. Secondly when something bad does happen I get too angry to remember. I miss my turtle. Thirdly is if I did actually have a bad day and I come back home. But I don’t like wearing socks. That's why I have the socks that are better to wear for a bad day. So the most optimal happiness option is to remove my socks and not put any on. That is what makes me the most happy. So the drawer remains closed. Which bares me from some more occurrences.
Back to the milk. I noticed that the date of expiration was printed sideways when I went to the register. I didn’t slow the descent of the milk when I was setting it down on the counter. One could accuse me of purposely slamming it down on the counter if they witnessed the act. The young cashier asked me if anything was wrong. I scoffed and told her that it was nothing. Now, using my only place I can experience new things, I acknowledged that the usage of my muscles to remove some of the kinetic energy imparted onto the gallon wasn’t that difficult. This realization came on the drive home. While I was still there I grabbed a few of the candy bars and put them on the counter as well. I yawned again as I pulled out my wallet. As she was grabbing my change I popped my jaw. It was so loud that she whipped her head to the side so fast that she pulled a neck muscle. I had been getting increasingly more tense. That was just a side effect. When I finally got back home I saw my shopping list I left on the table and realized I forgot to get salad ingredients. So I ripped off my socks and threw them in the washing machine. They had only been worn for an hour that day. That trip was infuriating. I sat down to think and I grabbed one of the 10 candy bars I bought. I looked at my fourth of six bookshelves in my house and decided that I would once again not read and instead think.
If you had asked me what I was thinking about I would have lied and said something that would bore somebody enough to stop talking to me. However it was always something that I had the capability to think about or thought about earlier that day as to be prepared for a girl trying to make unwanted advances on me. Usually I would say chess or a rubik's cube. This almost served as a litmus test for if I wanted to talk to that girl. However, usually they would compare it to checkers in some way and I would stare at my shoes waiting for her to walk away as I mumbled something about the control of the center squares. I especially hate it when they say something about checkers because checkers is solved. That means that every possible move has been explored. This is similar to tic tac toe. Computers find checkers boring and as such I do as well. I originally developed this hatred toward solved things when I was a child and came up with this concept by myself. When I was five I quite enjoyed spending time with my mother. Just to be clear I still do. I even completely skipped out on the teenager part of my life where you hate your own mother. My mother instilled a great deal of things in me. Namely the pursuit of knowledge that I have today. Along with the cognitive ability to achieve it. So naturally that developed into me wanting to learn things that could help me or things that I could show off. So after the third game I ever played with my mother I decided to write down every single possible game of tic tac toe. From that moment on tic tac toe was ruined. I did not have fun playing it ever again in my life. I had memorized every single move I should move and never changed. I still have it memorized to this day. Playing tic tac toe today and ever since that day was no different than playing war with bicycle cards. I have only ever played tic tac toe three times in my life. The rubik’s cube is similar. I taught myself how to solve one at the age of fourteen. It did take me eight years but can you blame me? I was moving around and it was not a continuous fiddle. I messed with the thing for an average of ten hours a year until the final year where it was a much larger investment of time. This was done without a notebook.
But since it is not you asking what I was thinking and it is me that is telling, to myself, I neither wish to or can lie. I really wasn’t thinking. It’s something that I don’t like talking about. As you might be able to tell I am pretty self indulgent. I quite like how smart I am as a fault of my mother. But recently I have been sitting absent mindedly. My blinks are longer than what they normally are. I feel like my brain is slowing down when I say I am thinking of nothing. I crack my jaw again. This time it cramps and I don’t fight the cramp to see if that is a possible way to deal with cramps. The answer is no. The muscles just get increasingly tight and it hurts. Such is the price to pay for wanting to have knowledge. I wiped some sweat from my brow.
I have started taking note of the many different things that are repeating. To give my story more believability. Firstly my mother has told the same joke three times now. Each year apart from each other and she has no recollection of even saying the last time when I asked her. As a more pointless example I wear the same shoes everyday. I have also looked up where the reproductive organs on an eel are a multitude of times. Now I know they only mature right before they mate which is after they migrate to the deep ocean. That's why they were never found by that motherfucker. That's also why they have never bred in captivity. I have looked up what percentage of American ninja warrior contestants have been single four times. I never remember something repeating until I notice it. Then I remember it eidetically for the rest of my life. I was looking for a way to increase my chances of being loved. The man who we pay to sing at the place I work has sung only one song in his 50 hours there that I have heard him be there. I have not yet listened to his music because I don't like music. I only listen to a metronome when I want to hear something. Sometimes when I'm doing schoolwork I will put that on. I usually despise the fact that I exist and try to hide from the existential pain by retreating in my own mind in all activities. The metronome ties my back down so I can focus on what is actually happening. I have gotten so good at staying inside my own mind that if i so please i can continue all the conversations i have that day without trying. I go through the day with my eyes closed. The only person I talk to is myself. When I see somebody that wants to talk to me I just expel air and vibrate my vocal chords. The “words” he thinks I'm saying are meaningless to me and apparently very meaningful to him. and the words he is saying are meaningless to me as well. This is also pretty funny because people think I am great at conversation. This could be because I might be conventionally attractive but I highly doubt that.
I've always hated my own face and I doubt anybody else could ever stand it if it didn't remind them of somebody else's face who they also pretend to say they like. What the fuck was i talking about in this sentance
I have never had a meaningful conversation that made me think. However I have had meaningful conversations and conversations that made me think but only separately. Like my ex could make me think when we got into an argument. I had to get good at desperado because I never was in the right. To this day I think she still has never accepted any wrong doing on her part. I hope all women aren't like this. My mother is only slightly bad at taking accountability but she is better than me and my dad so that makes me doubtful that humility is a sex linked trait. I am very inclined to believe that it was an environmental cause that led to her lack of accountability, as most of her immediate family also never admitted wrong doing. But I want and believe the answer to be that it was environmental. However I have a bias in this because I think believing that all women are inherently bad is an evil stance. Evil and wrong are not mutually exclusive unfortunately so this cannot be ruled out. It's just that nobody has said something that I haven't thought of yet. I have never seen a black swan. Well to be honest i have been surprised by something somebody said. Such as a comedian, but that is their job. I can assume that they are setting up for some joke and most jokes are subversion of expectation. I am frequently poked at by acquaintances because I like school. In truth I don't like school, I would love to never have to go to school and be able to sit with horrible posture for the rest of my life. I really just hate everything besides school. School is the only place that comes close to telling me something that I don't know. Even then it gets stale at times. Most people need to be told everything multiple times to understand it. And then study from then on. I am capable of catching every third word and acing the test. Sometimes I do pay attention for a day but then the next two days are reviewed for me and I have to teach my peers. There is a woman who gave me her phone number. I thought it was because I was tall and smart. But it really was only because I was smart and she wanted my study guide. In truth, I have never made a study guide before. But I tried and did a good job actually. She scored 30 points higher on her next test with my help. Even after I saw she had no interest in me I still helped her on the next test after that. The reason I stopped was because I saw she already had a boyfriend. I grow increasingly scared of my chances. That girl was another girl that I said I liked chess to and she again compared it to checkers. “I only know how to play checkers” yeah you dumb bitch. It takes a millisecond to learn. I learned how to win at checkers by looking at a picture of the board on a box. Then I taught myself strategy for the next 6 minutes. I hate checkers. And I hate that she made me insecure about chess. I thought she liked me. This is why i hate when they approach me. Being bad at chess is something I'm very insecure about. Chess is seen as this holy grail of intelligence and I am only a 2000 elo player. Honestly chess is more about memorization than raw intelligence but what is the difference really. Twenty eight hundred words
Part 2
This is just a new section so I can talk more about morality. I didn't want to drag myself to this point somehow in that last part.
Depersonalization,
I feel as if my personality is not defined.
I have always liked circles. this in a broad definition too. Most routes that I take to any place differ depending on which direction I'm going. as in i go left walking towards the place and left when im walking away. The going left part isnt consistent but just the fact I go the same direction twice.
not being sad is a much more noble goal than hedonism. Trying to obtain happiness is the root of all evil. It's called hedonism. removal of sadness is the root of all good. and these things are very separate. Empathy is much better at making you sad than it is at making you happy. Usually a person just becomes jealous when they see happiness. and that is a normal physiological response. however the expected result from seeing sadness is sadness in your own self. Removing sadness also implies the removal of others' sadness. atop this the only reason you wouldn't remove your own sadness is because it would cause another person to lose happiness. But then that would mean that that other person is happy because you are sad, which makes them evil, which makes you good for not caring about their happiness.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Gdt1SgYKhIEXPl5XsIDsppZ-NwkchcMjqgAga2vpxQ8/edit?tab=t.0
Part 1 b
I am stuck in a patchwork life. There are only 1,000,000 things that can happen and most have already happened. I am experiencing the same events over and over again. At first I thought it was da ja vu. Then I rationalized by forgetting until I was reminded of the answer. An example to help you understand would be asking a friend a question about some mathematical concept or spelling or the events of a book(all of which have happened) and they give the same response. They do not comment on this however. What finally broke me was when another person did the same thing in reverse. It proved to me it wasn’t me forgetting. I now know there is an obviously finite amount of things to do. Imagine running out of colors to see. Happened when you were 10 and said maroon or chartreuse. Maybe it's right now to tell you about the existence of olo. Maybe you could understand it by running out of tic tac toe boards. Maybe it's running out of clothing combinations if you are both vain enough to remember and not vain enough to care about only having four shirts and four shorts. I like shorts. I am a slave in my own mind as well. My free will doesn’t exist outside of my mind. I only realize I didn’t choose my own actions until after I remember they are repeated. I listen to only 3 genres of music. 1940’s, electronic, then 1990’s. In that order. I listen to the same songs over and over. The infuriating part is that it is like wading through a swimming pool with pee that doesn’t mix into the pool. I randomly can be experiencing a new moment, talking to a new girl or walking into a store and they repeat an exact line of dialogue you heard years ago. I wonder what it means to be real. Free will have a possible definition. All things that have “freedom” are paradoxical. That is the basis of many anti-theist arguments and governmental laws. The “freedom” of being able to take away another person's freedoms is restricted. Or a God so powerful can’t make a rock he can’t lift it. I hope the stock market repeats itself. Maybe then I'll be able to buy a rock so big it can’t be bought.
I am writing in hopes that I can catch a sequence as it's happening. Maybe change it. I haven’t gotten sick in a while. I assume that might be the next recurrence. I should start there. Last time I was sick I remember the stain pattern I made from drooling on my king sized bed. Maybe I will draw that and hang it on a wall and get coughed on. I am not doing this for the sake of proof. I have my own already. Too many circumstances. I am doing this to get better at it. The big rock wasn’t just a joke. Every once in a while something really big will happen and I always have the feeling that it won’t happen again. Ever since I was a kid I had that feeling. Of course at the time I didn’t know that I would eventually run out of things. This sentence makes sense when I say what the things are that won’t repeat. When mine turtle died after being hit by an car. My jaw hurts from constant yawning. I pop it quite often by putting my index finger of my left hand and pushing the part of my ramus horizontally in line with my left mandible.
I went to the store to buy milk because it reminds me of when I was younger. It is the only recreational drink I have ever liked. Everything else is either too sweet or not sweet enough to make it taste better than water or milk. I am usually a very particular man. I order my clothes. I have an extra drawer for socks that have not been worn and as such have no sand in them. This makes the sensation of wearing them very pleasant. Since it isn't a financially responsible thing to do to spend 100 dollars on socks every month I save them for when I feel like wearing them. I have defined this to mean when I have had a bad day. Ironically I never end up wearing them because there are only 3 possibilities in which I could wear them but all also stop me from wearing them. First is that I am putting on my socks for the day. Nothing has happened that day yet because I can’t leave my house without socks on for anything bad to happen. So I put on normal socks on any morning because nothing bad could possibly have happened yet. Secondly when something bad does happen I get too angry to remember. I miss my turtle. Thirdly is if I did actually have a bad day and I come back home. But I don’t like wearing socks. That's why I have the socks that are better to wear for a bad day. So the most optimal happiness option is to remove my socks and not put any on. That is what makes me the most happy. So the drawer remains closed. Which bares me from some more occurrences.
Back to the milk. I noticed that the date of expiration was printed sideways when I went to the register. I didn’t slow the descent of the milk when I was setting it down on the counter. One could accuse me of purposely slamming it down on the counter if they witnessed the act. The young cashier asked me if anything was wrong. I scoffed and told her that it was nothing. Now, using my only place I can experience new things, I acknowledged that the usage of my muscles to remove some of the kinetic energy imparted onto the gallon wasn’t that difficult. This realization came on the drive home. While I was still there I grabbed a few of the candy bars and put them on the counter as well. I yawned again as I pulled out my wallet. As she was grabbing my change I popped my jaw. It was so loud that she whipped her head to the side so fast that she pulled a neck muscle. I had been getting increasingly more tense. That was just a side effect. When I finally got back home I saw my shopping list I left on the table and realized I forgot to get salad ingredients. So I ripped off my socks and threw them in the washing machine. They had only been worn for an hour that day. That trip was infuriating. I sat down to think and I grabbed one of the 10 candy bars I bought. I looked at my fourth of six bookshelves in my house and decided that I would once again not read and instead think.
If you had asked me what I was thinking about I would have lied and said something that would bore somebody enough to stop talking to me. However it was always something that I had the capability to think about or thought about earlier that day as to be prepared for a girl trying to make unwanted advances on me. Usually I would say chess or a rubik's cube. This almost served as a litmus test for if I wanted to talk to that girl. However, usually they would compare it to checkers in some way and I would stare at my shoes waiting for her to walk away as I mumbled something about the control of the center squares. I especially hate it when they say something about checkers because checkers is solved. That means that every possible move has been explored. This is similar to tic tac toe. Computers find checkers boring and as such I do as well. I originally developed this hatred toward solved things when I was a child and came up with this concept by myself. When I was five I quite enjoyed spending time with my mother. Just to be clear I still do. I even completely skipped out on the teenager part of my life where you hate your own mother. My mother instilled a great deal of things in me. Namely the pursuit of knowledge that I have today. Along with the cognitive ability to achieve it. So naturally that developed into me wanting to learn things that could help me or things that I could show off. So after the third game I ever played with my mother I decided to write down every single possible game of tic tac toe. From that moment on tic tac toe was ruined. I did not have fun playing it ever again in my life. I had memorized every single move I should move and never changed. I still have it memorized to this day. Playing tic tac toe today and ever since that day was no different than playing war with bicycle cards. I have only ever played tic tac toe three times in my life. The rubik’s cube is similar. I taught myself how to solve one at the age of fourteen. It did take me eight years but can you blame me? I was moving around and it was not a continuous fiddle. I messed with the thing for an average of ten hours a year until the final year where it was a much larger investment of time. This was done without a notebook.
But since it is not you asking what I was thinking and it is me that is telling, to myself, I neither wish to or can lie. I really wasn’t thinking. It’s something that I don’t like talking about. As you might be able to tell I am pretty self indulgent. I quite like how smart I am as a fault of my mother. But recently I have been sitting absent mindedly. My blinks are longer than what they normally are. I feel like my brain is slowing down when I say I am thinking of nothing. I crack my jaw again. This time it cramps and I don’t fight the cramp to see if that is a possible way to deal with cramps. The answer is no. The muscles just get increasingly tight and it hurts. Such is the price to pay for wanting to have knowledge. I wiped some sweat from my brow.
I have started taking note of the many different things that are repeating. To give my story more believability. Firstly my mother has told the same joke three times now. Each year apart from each other and she has no recollection of even saying the last time when I asked her. As a more pointless example I wear the same shoes everyday. I have also looked up where the reproductive organs on an eel are a multitude of times. Now I know they only mature right before they mate which is after they migrate to the deep ocean. That's why they were never found by that motherfucker. That's also why they have never bred in captivity. I have looked up what percentage of American ninja warrior contestants have been single four times. I never remember something repeating until I notice it. Then I remember it eidetically for the rest of my life. I was looking for a way to increase my chances of being loved. The man who we pay to sing at the place I work has sung only one song in his 50 hours there that I have heard him be there. I have not yet listened to his music because I don't like music. I only listen to a metronome when I want to hear something. Sometimes when I'm doing schoolwork I will put that on. I usually despise the fact that I exist and try to hide from the existential pain by retreating in my own mind in all activities. The metronome ties my back down so I can focus on what is actually happening. I have gotten so good at staying inside my own mind that if i so please i can continue all the conversations i have that day without trying. I go through the day with my eyes closed. The only person I talk to is myself. When I see somebody that wants to talk to me I just expel air and vibrate my vocal chords. The “words” he thinks I'm saying are meaningless to me and apparently very meaningful to him. and the words he is saying are meaningless to me as well. This is also pretty funny because people think I am great at conversation. This could be because I might be conventionally attractive but I highly doubt that.
I've always hated my own face and I doubt anybody else could ever stand it if it didn't remind them of somebody else's face who they also pretend to say they like. What the fuck was i talking about in this sentance
I have never had a meaningful conversation that made me think. However I have had meaningful conversations and conversations that made me think but only separately. Like my ex could make me think when we got into an argument. I had to get good at desperado because I never was in the right. To this day I think she still has never accepted any wrong doing on her part. I hope all women aren't like this. My mother is only slightly bad at taking accountability but she is better than me and my dad so that makes me doubtful that humility is a sex linked trait. I am very inclined to believe that it was an environmental cause that led to her lack of accountability, as most of her immediate family also never admitted wrong doing. But I want and believe the answer to be that it was environmental. However I have a bias in this because I think believing that all women are inherently bad is an evil stance. Evil and wrong are not mutually exclusive unfortunately so this cannot be ruled out. It's just that nobody has said something that I haven't thought of yet. I have never seen a black swan. Well to be honest i have been surprised by something somebody said. Such as a comedian, but that is their job. I can assume that they are setting up for some joke and most jokes are subversion of expectation. I am frequently poked at by acquaintances because I like school. In truth I don't like school, I would love to never have to go to school and be able to sit with horrible posture for the rest of my life. I really just hate everything besides school. School is the only place that comes close to telling me something that I don't know. Even then it gets stale at times. Most people need to be told everything multiple times to understand it. And then study from then on. I am capable of catching every third word and acing the test. Sometimes I do pay attention for a day but then the next two days are reviewed for me and I have to teach my peers. There is a woman who gave me her phone number. I thought it was because I was tall and smart. But it really was only because I was smart and she wanted my study guide. In truth, I have never made a study guide before. But I tried and did a good job actually. She scored 30 points higher on her next test with my help. Even after I saw she had no interest in me I still helped her on the next test after that. The reason I stopped was because I saw she already had a boyfriend. I grow increasingly scared of my chances. That girl was another girl that I said I liked chess to and she again compared it to checkers. “I only know how to play checkers” yeah you dumb bitch. It takes a millisecond to learn. I learned how to win at checkers by looking at a picture of the board on a box. Then I taught myself strategy for the next 6 minutes. I hate checkers. And I hate that she made me insecure about chess. I thought she liked me. This is why i hate when they approach me. Being bad at chess is something I'm very insecure about. Chess is seen as this holy grail of intelligence and I am only a 2000 elo player. Honestly chess is more about memorization than raw intelligence but what is the difference really. Twenty eight hundred words
Part 2
This is just a new section so I can talk more about morality. I didn't want to drag myself to this point somehow in that last part.
Depersonalization,
I feel as if my personality is not defined.
I have always liked circles. this in a broad definition too. Most routes that I take to any place differ depending on which direction I'm going. as in i go left walking towards the place and left when im walking away. The going left part isnt consistent but just the fact I go the same direction twice.
not being sad is a much more noble goal than hedonism. Trying to obtain happiness is the root of all evil. It's called hedonism. removal of sadness is the root of all good. and these things are very separate. Empathy is much better at making you sad than it is at making you happy. Usually a person just becomes jealous when they see happiness. and that is a normal physiological response. however the expected result from seeing sadness is sadness in your own self. Removing sadness also implies the removal of others' sadness. atop this the only reason you wouldn't remove your own sadness is because it would cause another person to lose happiness. But then that would mean that that other person is happy because you are sad, which makes them evil, which makes you good for not caring about their happiness.
