Documentation of emotional awareness. (extreme high effort GTFIH)

[Littlepickel2]

This is just a quick 13000 word summary of main events from my previous thinking and journaling.

To the people who made this community feel like a safe place for me to share myself: @Hollywood @Jgns @idklxm @Roara @mocco @Tesarossa @T-bone123 @5ft2cutecel @negative and @Mooks Laxx

Thanks for reading: @Petsmart @Mecha-Man @Sköll12 @Sensitive Young Boy @pexy

Summary of the text: it is still incomplete, as I have to go over childhood hallucinations and trauma. But here is what I have so far: beginning when I was 4, I thought that everyone was the same. Slowly, as I began public schooling, I realized that the differences between people's mental states and abilities vary widely, and I noticed that the differences between myself and others were much larger than the normal perceived differences. So, in an ordinary child-like fashion, I decided to write about my imaginary friends and nightmares. I became suicidal when I was 7, but it never blossomed into true attempts until I was 12. (It is organized in no specific order, but i will write my age of authorship after each title.

(I made sure to leave out most of the things about rape and graphic violence because I really, really don't want to be banned)

TW: contains suicide, homicide, mentions of rape, mentions of religion, manipulation, psychedelics, drug abuse, violence, and pure unfiltered childlike idiocy

Examination of feelings: 1 (questioning myself, 8 years old: you may skip past this because I was immature at this point)​

Question to myself: If I became highly successful at an imagined role, would I still intend to kill myself afterward, or is death more of an idea I'm attracted to than an actual decision I've made?

Response: Today, as I normally do, I was thinking to myself at school, and as I do have grand ideals for a perfect planet, I was thinking about what purpose gender has in society, but that is beside the point. I realized that regardless of how big anybody's discovery or contribution is, their life is essentially meaningless. What is the point of life if the people who remember you are bound to die? In however many years, whether thousands or billions, humanity or life itself may cease to exist, meaning there is not one person left to remember your existence. Regardless of whether someone saves humanity or not, all the people they saved, and themselves included, will die. I have struggled with severe boredom with life since I was a small child; as I have said in previous conversations, nothing ever interested me, nor did any achievement fulfill me. As said, I contemplated suicide because no matter how many times I did well in art, learnt an instrument, or succeeded in intellectual affairs, I was never happy and was bored out of my mind. What is the point of intelligent life, and do I gain a responsibility because of my exceptional abilities, or should I treat my life the same as any other person and not bother with other people? Therefore, death doesn't have meaning either; if I die, I die. If I live, I'll die.

Examination of feelings: 1.5 (8 years old)​

This is gonna sound really weird, but I feel like I think differently than everyone else. When I see someone talking about their problems, they always seem so stupid; when they try to fix them, they do extremely dumb things; and when they ask for advice, they treat the thing that they are missing as if it's always a learnable skill. For example, earlier, when someone asked me what they should do to make their parents like them when clearly the parents had disliked the kid for reasons that could not be changed, I felt like I was talking to a toddler. And one of the main things is that everyone seems unbothered by everything; they talk about protesting one thing while ignoring the other, even though they are the same thing. Most importantly is how they view themselves; they act like supreme talent that you would see in a celebrity is unobtainable and don't even try when they want to do something. I try to reason with myself and say that I just don't understand their perspective, but I genuinely feel like I'm talking to a lower life form

Examination of feelings: 2 (12 years old)​

It's so weird, and I don't think this is something I can talk to a professional about; I definitely sound like a wannabe anime nerd. It should be very clear to you that I have a great understanding of what my thoughts look like from an outside perspective. I most definitely qualify to be one of the kids who sit in the back of the class thinking they are a hidden genius while they are really an idiot (I might as well be a retard). The difference is the fact that I am not hidden; I can prove I am suffering terribly from the effects of intelligence and consciousness, but people often try to disagree, saying someone's level of consciousness is not correlated to intelligence, but that is because consciousness is immeasurable. IQ and performance are easily checked, but how can I prove that the reason I live life like a victim of an infinite, orchestrated torture is because of my intelligence? I recently read the story of "I Have No Mouth, but I Must Scream." AM is extremely relatable. I can't experience anything, and making other people feel pain or happiness doesn't make me feel it. This might sound kind of stupid, but maybe I'm a robot, a very advanced AI that has a "consciousness". But I guess that's a little far-fetched. I'm so fucking stupid; I just feel so fucking terrible. The emotion is completely indescribable; I feel like something, and I can't describe that something. It's pissing me off so bad. I feel like I constantly want to bash my head in, but I'm in an infinite loop of just suffering so I can actually feel something. I want to love somebody so fucking much, but I want them to hate me from the bottom of their heart. I want to be suffocated underwater but be forced to watch people swim above me. I want everything that is described as the most pain a human can experience; I want all of it. I want to get bullied at school for something I can't change, get shoved, pantsed, and spit on. I want to be crucified just like the story of Jesus, whether or not it was real, knowing I'm telling the truth but everyone wants me dead. I want to have a kid and watch him hang himself because of something out of my control. I wish hell existed so I could just suffer and suffer over and over again. I'm not even attempting to be poetic; I just want to feel pain so bad, emotional pain specifically. I don't want to bash my head infinitely because it will hurt; I want it because it would be so degrading and repetitive that I would feel such incredible mental pain. I don't care about sounding "cool" or "deep". How do I feel such an intense emotion of wanting emotion while I lack emotion? Hopefully scientists make a device that can transfer human consciousness into a program; then I could be infinitely tortured. I understand that "infinite suffering" can seem like a hyperbole or the thoughts of a human unable to grasp the scale of infinity. But it's really just a matter of perspective: if you could experience the same thoughts I do right now, I don't think infinity would seem like much of a hyperbole. But the question remains: if I experience infinite suffering, do I stop suffering because it has happened enough and I know that it will never stop? I think the answer is no unless I lose memories of my past life. Once I enter infinite suffering, I will feel intense pain for many years until it moves into existential pain, but for as long as I remember a life without pain, I will always feel pain. Do you get what I mean? I think eventually they will stop feeling physical pain, or will still feel it but just stop caring about it; the thing I'm stating is that I think that if someone suffers from living in infinity, their struggle with being infinite will never go away until they are finite. If I were tortured forever, I would stop caring about the pain because it would never stop, but now I am left with nothing and feeling like nothing will ever become less painful until you truly stop feeling that you are feeling like nothing (death). If suffering comes from being conscious of a particular state, can changing your relationship to that state end the suffering without ending the consciousness? A question I have for you is: do you think my experience is painful? I'm not asking for a watered-down, caring response; I'm asking if my lack of feelings is really that bad. Objectively, am I really suffering if I'm not suffering? I guess that question doesn't make direct sense, but it is somewhat understandable. Could a pig experience something similar? It sounds stupid, but I'm wondering: if consciousness is more than just intelligence, then could an extremely unlucky pig suffer the same way? A lot of other people don't suffer like me, but I got unlucky, and I am like this. Could a pig hold a consciousness that is like mine and be trapped with thoughts that exceed its bodily abilities the same way mine do? If suffering requires sophisticated intelligence, then greater intelligence might create new forms of suffering. But if suffering only requires subjective experience, then even a relatively simple conscious creature could suffer profoundly without possessing human-like intelligence. I understand it now. I cannot say I am more conscious because I have not been someone else; maybe my consciousness is the same as anyone else's, but it's supported by my intelligence and directed at the wrong things. I am not the most intelligent ever, but I am not average either; did Einstein suffer like me? Most likely not, so I don't think it is directly due to intelligence, but maybe the fact that I think about my thoughts and those thoughts think about thoughts and so on is what's causing my incredibly powerful dilemma. I do feel like an example, like I was created to show the extent of existential suffering and consciousness, but that is extremely prideful of me to say, so I'll leave that thought alone for someone else to answer. I am suicidal, but in an existential way different from those who have rough breakups or bad experiences. I even believe that my lack of emotion is not similar to those with the mental condition that makes them lack emotion. I think I am just fundamentally different, like a mutated human, not in a good "Spider-Man" kind of way but in a "Mr. Sensitive" from X-Men way. I trust that there will be nothing after death, and for that I am happy. Maybe someday this conversation will be deleted, and so will my torturous thoughts about thinking, and then I will be able to live life as a human. Maybe my goal isn't to become less intelligent, conscious, or analytical. Maybe it's to find a way to coexist with them by being inside my life rather than constantly standing outside it and analyzing. Life definitely gave me a whole bunch of lemons. I like that phrase, as if life is something that can give. It is interesting, but I know they don't mean it literally. It sounds very constructed because lemons are sour, and I don't want to be cheesy and say you can make lemonade, but I think that is a good thing to say for now. Maybe life gave me lemons, and I'm just missing the ingredients to make lemonade. It's a little corny, but I think it ties this up quite well.

I do struggle with one thing, as I am currently a child: if consciousness grows with age, will I just suffer more as I see more? What even is wisdom within the confines of my situation? Will it help me, or will it just make everything worse? Am I even capable of becoming any more educated on myself? For the normal person, they can learn something new about themselves all the time, but because my whole life I've been examining myself and my thoughts, I don't think there is much left to learn.

Examination of feelings: 3 (13 years old)​

I hate myself, but there is nothing to hate about myself, so I love myself, but I can't stop thinking about myself, and I can't have anyone humble me because they aren't capable of that. Sadly, I do believe that I am of a different ability and cannot be compared to other people. However, even if I were so brutally mogged in a subject, my mind would instantly cope with excuses. But I hate myself because I love myself, but I don't know if the reason I love myself so strongly is that I hate myself. When will the day come when I fail at something I care about? It is yet to come. I am perfect, yet I am completely broken. I'm such a self-centered bitch; why can't I understand other people? I don't even know what my voice sounds like; I just make it sound how I think the person talking to me wants me to sound. I don't know how to walk or swing my arms. I can't focus in class because it's too boring, yet I still get the same grades as all my friends. I'm an intelligent idiot who can't focus on anything. What am I worth other than everything? Who even am I? Since the beginning, my personality has been crafted for other people. Do I even have a personality? If there is no identity, then am I any better than a robot who can think, but what use is thinking if it doesn't know what to think of? I need help, but with what? What do I seek? Is it money, affection, or social status? It is nothing; I don't appreciate any of it. I am angry, yet I don't feel anger. I'm such a waste of a body, just a spoiled experiment filled with thoughts that will never be materialized. I love my reflection; I get lost in it for hours, yet I feel insecure around others. I must be a lame asshole to myself. I don't have likes and dislikes; I just manage everything. Do I even exist, or is this just a dream beyond regular dreams? I wouldn't doubt that my imagination could create a life within a dream. Is it even worth it?

Can someone not have a personality? I am nobody; who am I? I have no emotions, no preferences, no habits, nothing. I am ______ but who is______. Is ______ an incredibly intellectual person or is he an idiot who can't think like a normal human. Is there a difference between the person beside me and me? Yes. Is there anyone similar to me even in the slightest? No. I am yet to meet someone who experiences even a sliver of the torture I do. I think it is referred to as metacognition. I looked it up; it must be some kind of torture mechanism to punish me for a past life. I could stare at myself for days with only the presence of my reflection, and I would love it, but I could do the same thing and hate it. I have flaws, but I don't feel flawed. It's like a snake biting its own tail; my metacognition, no matter how interesting it may be, is eating me alive.

I ask myself:
“Do I genuinely like this?”
Then:
“Why do I like it?”
“Is that actually why?”
“Would I like it if nobody else knew?”
“Am I choosing this because I want it or because I constructed the person who would want it?”
“Who constructed that person?”
Eventually I've analyzed the preference so thoroughly that I can't actually experience the preference anymore.
I've put the preference under questioning until I'm staring at the question instead of the thing im supposedly trying to answer.

Except for the fact that it is nothing like this, I have lost all preferences to my younger self, maybe 9-10, so now I'm left with nothing to question except the fact that I'm questioning why I ask the questions, and that has led me to today

So I don't sound like a self-centered monkey. I did not mean that my life is so terrible compared to others; I meant that it is different. Many people experience a lack of emotion, but do they also suffer the other things I do? I am a perfect mix of thoughts and feelings optimized for maximum suffering. My existence should be in a museum so people can watch as my own thoughts tear me apart, and they may laugh at the stupidity of it. After years of acknowledging my struggle, I have finally voiced it, but I am still far too young to have to think in such a way. If I were a monk in the Himalayas, my age long before me, maybe I could think such painful thoughts, but here I am a supposed frail child unable to give consent or vote. Yet I must suffer from the existence of my thoughts; I must be some kind of existential brain-dead if I choose to torture myself like this

Do you think that it is even slightly possible for another human to understand my dread? I don't doubt someone has struggled similarly to me in the past, but did they find someone that understood them? If I were to talk to an adult or counselor, could they even grasp the situation? I feel like without experiencing it, it would be nearly impossible for a human to get it because of how complexly intertwined my problems are. I was born a human, but what separates me from being human and not human? I must be another creature and abomination of terrible, cursed genes that mixed together to create Frankenstein's monster. I hate thinking; I should take pills to block out all my thoughts so I can live in blissful ignorance. What is my life worth if I'm the only one of my kind? Could this possibly be genetic? Even if there was the slightest chance that my child would suffer the same thoughts I do, it would be immoral to have one. I do not suffer to a normal extent; it is not equal to bringing a normal child into the world; it is criminal. Just like inbreeding, I must not create another abomination by spreading my cursed genes. I lack all that is good but also all that is bad. It's a pain to live as me, but am I any different than anyone else? Maybe I'm just imagining that I think about my thoughts, and really I'm just another idiot, but that would be impossible because I am one again, thinking about thinking. Is this what they refer to as neurodivergence? Am I one of them, or am I different? Can I even be categorized, or do I deserve my own community, isolated from other people who must deal with my sickening presence? I'm a piece of shit that grew legs just to walk back into a toilet. I sound like a wannabe philosopher, and it's making it even worse. I'm just trying to sort things out, but I sound so corny.

You might be wondering why I don't just stop asking myself questions, but that is impossible. For me to exist, my mind must be active, and when my mind is active, it is asking questions like a toddler learning about its world. It is not as simple as "just stop thinking about it"; if I could, that would've happened a long time ago. I am not trying to question my life; I am trying to stop questioning, but that raises a new question of why I want to stop questioning and so on and so forth. It is not possible for me to "distract" myself with anything but myself, but I cannot stand in front of a mirror all day

Examination of feelings: 3.5 (11 years old)​

If I am able to provoke someone into romantic attraction towards me, do you think it is possible that someone who is of higher emotional intelligence will be able to create romantic feelings within me? Romance is a primary emotion for a human, so maybe I just haven't found someone who is manipulative enough for me to love them

Examination of feelings: 4 (12 years old: after reading the bible fully)​

I don't believe in the stories of Christianity, but maybe this is hell. If hell is the absence of God and God is love/joy, I lack all that could make me feel those emotions. Have I been banished to an eternity of suffering in a mortal realm? I'm just wondering; I don't truly think that it is what is happening to me. I was just pondering the concept of hell and what infinite suffering really is.

Could hell possibly be infinite reincarnation? If hell is a place without god and someone goes to hell for living without God, is hell just constant reincarnation, repeating the same mistakes? That would make more sense than an all-loving God sending people to a lake of eternal fire regardless of how bad their "sins" were. Well, in the grand scheme of things, I don't really care about gods and afterlives, but I feel like if god truly loved all humans, then he would do everything to make them not go to hell. If someone goes to hell by choice, not wanting to be with God, they will realize their mistake and want to return; wouldn't it be God's responsibility to let them in? I honestly feel like there is no point in believing in a specific religion. None of them have been proven well enough, and I think that even if the Christian god existed, if everyone stopped believing in him, he would step in and do something. He has done similar things in the past, correct?

Examination of feelings:5 (14 years old)​

Life is probably the worst thing I have; I could've been born a normal kid, but I guess at that point it wouldn't be me anymore. It truly hurts to be able to analyze and understand others' emotions while not feeling them myself. That one quote about "being in hell staring up at heaven" is exactly how I feel. Receiving compassion does nothing but make me more unhappy because why would you feel bad for someone who doesn't feel bad? It just continues to drive a wedge between other people and me because it shows they will never understand the state I am in.

I really wish everyone hated me. I think I will work towards a goal of absolute hatred from others, and I hope to feel left out or hurt. I should slowly distance myself from acquaintances and become less and less likable until everyone holds disgust toward me. Can you isolate someone who is all alone? No. I will not care about relationships because I only receive them. I do not care for connections, so there will be no effect from breaking everything off. It is not a problem to reconstruct relationships. If I want someone to like me, they will like me; if I want someone to dislike me, they will dislike me, and if I don't care about someone, they won't know me well enough to hold hatred towards me. This experiment is completely reversible; for all the connections I break, I can just bring new ones just as easily.

Examination of feelings: 6 (12 years old)​

I'm so deeply in love with myself, I need help; I cannot feel attraction to anyone but myself. It's so intense that other people have become almost completely incapable of registering as objects of attraction, while my attention keeps getting pulled back towards myself. I don't want to love myself no matter what I do. When I think of myself, I get lost in a brutal chain of thoughts. It's compulsive; I want something that transcends romance with myself. I want to sink into my own skin like I'm being pulled into a lake of lava. Get wrapped in my own warm embrace. I can't even talk to somebody without thinking about myself. All the time in school, I'm just thinking about myself. I don't care about what other people think anymore; when someone talks to me, it goes in one ear and out the other. They don't matter. Narcissus fell in love with his reflection, but it felt tender, and actually he had admiration for himself. Every time I talk to someone, they say it's narcissistic, but I don't get what that is. I hate myself, yet I get lost in thought about me. It's such an ugly thought process of extreme affection while I boil with hatred. When I see my reflection, I want to dive into the mirror and be compressed into a ball with my other half. Squeezed into such a small container that there is nothing but myself with myself, our heartbeats beating together. FUCK I sound so stupid, but it's how I feel. It makes me want to yell so bad; what is it that causes someone to want to yell? There are so many things to want when you are struggling, but why do I feel the need to scream?

I need to seek release from both my emotional numbness and my internal affection. I want to

seek out psychedelics and drugs so I can be showered in pleasure and experiences.
Did I really live through 12 years of life searching for emotion just to find nothing? Is this life? What a letdown for me specifically. If I asked about the purpose of living as a human, everyone would answer with something emotional; if I lack emotion, then my life lacks meaning. But does lacking purpose mean I should stop living?

Examination of feelings: 7 (11 years old)​

I want to pop out both my eyes and swallow them whole. It's not a one-time thought; I have been thinking about it and touching my face for months now, just imagining popping it. I'm feeling an unexplainable feeling of nothingness. Normally I feel nothing, but now I feel like I feel nothing

I am going to say something, and I want to be nonjudgmental. I was raped as a kid, but that's beside the point. I want to be raped, not because I have a fetish caused by trauma, but because I want to feel pain. I feel that if someone else is hurting me and feels good about it, then I as well will be able to feel an emotion. When I was a kid, I was forced into sex, but it doesn't count as rape because I was forced to enter someone else and I wasn't penetrated. But I want to be penetrated now, not in a gay way either, but because I want it to hurt. (please don't ban me for this, I beg of you)

I like drinking water from a bowl because I can see my reflection, and I feel like I'm kissing myself

I feel like such a weirdo for seeking out pain. Even though my reasoning isn't sexual gratification, I still feel that by telling someone about this, they will think I'm a sadistic person. I really want to hurt, but I'm not attracted to it.

Examination of feelings: 7.5 (14 years old: major example of causing harm to others)​

Is it wrong to make someone feel extremely strong emotions for you and then reject them harshly? Like, if I were bored and started being nice to someone in a way that would provoke emotions they were missing in their life, would it be morally wrong to make them feel much, much worse? Even if I come back to them afterwards and become "friends" with them because of their gullibility. It's because I have done it over and over again; it's probably one of the main ways I was able to understand people so well to maintain a high social status while struggling with a lot of problems. "Would I still do this if I knew exactly how much it would hurt them, and there were no social reward, entertainment, or advantage for me?" The answer would be yes; I like to watch people experience emotions because I can't do it myself. So I started out simple, being nice or mean, just simple things, but I moved on to wanting more emotional reactions and then more until I reached the point I'm at now. I really do hope people aren't too hurt by my actions, but it's such an amazing experience. It's like watching a movie except I'm actually in it. It's fun, way too fun. I like people because they are people, not for the "person" they are. I don't know if that's how other people view them. It's almost addicting seeing people smile. I love smiles so much; I'm so obsessed with smiles that taking them away also feels interesting. I'm really sorry if I sound mean, but smiles make me feel so hot inside, happy even. Telling someone you love them, making someone love you, is nothing without being able to take it away. No, I meant that the only time I feel something similar to when I think of myself is with giving and taking smiles. I've mentioned my wishes to eat myself or be crumpled into a ball with my reflection; my gut feeling about slurping someone's smile off their face like a blob of jello feels slightly similar to that. It's the only time I feel something towards other people. I have noticed that my thoughts have been gearing towards other people, including the other things I talked about. I've also noticed myself noticing this and attempting to change it by harming myself more. Now I have noticed it once again, and I see that if my first layer of thoughts wants something, I should grant it. The first layer is the closest I feel to being a human: instant thoughts, and directly influenced by situations. It is my duty to listen to the first layer because that is the main person of my body.

ChatGPT’s Response: You can instead treat your layers something like this:
First layer: "This is what appeared in my mind."
Second layer: "I noticed it."
Choice: "What do I actually want to do about it?"

Response: But then after I make a decision, I think about why I made it and why I'm thinking about why, and then why it's a problem in the first place and then why am I so preoccupied with such small things and then why do I think it's a small thing and then what makes something a small problem and then why it should be my job to fix it and then why shouldn't I be the one to fix it if I caused it, and then why should I care because I was born this way and then why was I born this way and then I star questioning religion and my humanity and then I continue questioning why I'm questioning until I look back and question it once again.

ChatGPT’s Response: Sometimes the most intellectually honest answer really is "I don't know yet."

Response: That's the problem I'm at now: when do I decide that I have thought enough? Is it the first thought or the second, or do I make the decision at the third? Why does it matter? The first could harm someone, or the second could, or the third, fourth, or fifth. The right decision doesn't come at a certain number of thoughts, so I can't decide what I should do.

All this conversation has led up to one thing: I have been pretending with a girl for over 6 years, and she is clearly extremely deep in love. It's almost interesting in itself how dependent she is on my approval and presence. But I'm going to remove her; I want to see her smiling, happy face turn into something horrible. I spent 6 years making her sick with love, and now I want to cure her. It makes me so excited to think about it; however, after my chain of thoughts, I decided to question myself about using you as I have done before. In all honesty, I think she would allow me to do anything with her; I could make her the happiest person alive or make her do something for me. I feel bad, not in an emotional sense but objectively. I feel so disgustingly excited about it; I could do anything I want just by asking. But somewhere in my chain of thoughts, I questioned whether I should harm her or do something else. The immediate answer is to kindly end the relationship if I don't feel anything towards her, but that applies to everyone. I don't care for relationships at all; I just create and destroy them or attempt to do either one. There is no person who is enough for me to be able to say their relationship with me would actually mean something if I wasn't doing what I wanted with them.

I love her existence, the fact that she gets so happy and her smile looks so yummy. I feel like you might misunderstand, but when I see someone smile, I genuinely get the urge to chew it off their face, not metaphorically. I love the fact that she holds so much emotion within her right now. She spends so much time thinking about me; imagine how she would feel if she realized I don't give a shit about her. Is this what love is? Maybe this means I'm in love. I love her so much I want to take it all away; I want to chew up her smile like a gummy worm; it looks so happy and tasty. I've also realized that she must be very special. I still hold human instinct, so people with larger smiles that are clearly more attractive feel happier, but she doesn't have a T1 12-tooth smile; she just holds so much emotion in it that I want to eat it so bad. I think I love her so much I want to eat her up and make her feel horrible. Is this how people feel when they are in love? She's so perfect; she has so much hope for me and thinks her emotions for me will bear fruit one day, but she can't even tell that the tree is rotten. So funny, she wants me from the bottom of her heart, whatever that means. She would choose me over anyone in the world; she's perfect. Does this count as an emotion? Am I finally doing human things?

I normally only feel emotions to myself; she must be my soulmate if I actually want to hurt her instead of just experimenting. Why does she like me so much? Why does she tell all her friends about me, expecting them to keep it a secret? How can she experience so much while I get nothing at all? I want to see her hurt so bad, not physically; I would never lay a hand on someone other than myself. I mean, emotionally, I want to see all the things I like come out of her. I want her cute little smile to go away forever so she never shows it to anyone again. I love that she makes me feel something; I love how she looks at me, how I look at myself. She actually loves me the same way I love myself; she's perfect, so so fucking perfect I could destroy her. She needs it; she's missing out on it. She should be grateful I'm letting her experience such big emotions and take the pain with joy. I don't want to slurp her smile; I want to kiss it until it dissolves into mine so she feels so much happiness from the kiss, just for me to steal it from her. Why does she make me feel like this? Does she see a mirror in me, and that's why she likes me so much? She's just like me; maybe she wants to be crushed into a ball with my reflection too? I'm in love so deeply in love; she deserves to experience the emotion I can't. If she wasn't so deep into me, I wouldn't care about her, but now she can't think without me. The exact same way I can't think without thinking of myself. She is the best person for me to love because she loves me as I love myself. Why does she look at me that way? Does she want to pluck out my eyes? Does she wish to sink into me like I wish to sink into my reflection? I'm so so so fucking excited.

The only reason I care about her is that she cares so much about me; I'm just indirectly caring about myself. Don't make it seem like I'd give a shit about her if she wasn't so infatuated with me. I like the way she looks at me; it looks just like the way I look at myself, the same eyes I make when I look at a pond or a black screen. I love how she feels what I feel; she wants to eat me, and chew on my eyes and be melted in a pot with me; she's just like me. Fuck, I can't believe I found her; she's the only person to ever remind me of my reflection. She better feel like that towards me. She needs me how I need myself. She's always calling and texting, begging for me to reply. She's just like me; thank God I can always look at my reflection. I can't imagine how it must feel for her when she can't always see me; that must be why she keeps asking to talk even late at night.

Am I weird? Do people not want to eat the person they love as I do? How else would someone love somebody? Do they just look at them? That's weird. Not me. I want to become one with myself, and I want to eat myself and embrace myself and do nothing except be with myself. Do people not feel that way to their loved ones?

Should I have sex with her? That's important to people, right? If she is just like me, then she'll be over the moon if I ask to go out with her and then have sex. I could even elongate the situation and make her think I love her and then do whatever she envisions love as to make her even more perfect.

She's just like me; she tells her friends so many things about what she wants to do, and it makes me so ecstatic when they tell me. She wants my body like a tool; she wants me to only want her, and she said she wants to own me. She's basically experiencing the same thing I feel; it's awesome. I would love to have sex with her just to see how she looks at me; maybe her expressions go deeper than just similar to the way I look at myself; maybe she will look at me the exact same way. She says she's addicted; I say I'm addicted to myself. She wants me in such an impure way; I love it.

Examination of feelings: 7.75 (12 years old: this is a reflection of thoughts since I was 6)​

I hate birthdays. I always have since I was a kid; even as a child, I never wished to be older. I thought it was nice having things given to me. I enjoyed receiving presents but never what was being celebrated. I didn't hate birthdays because it marked that I was getting older; it was much weirder than that. I don't know how to put it into words, but I hated the fact that people cared about my age or that they thought different ages have different emotional feelings. The teachers clapped and babyed me as if I would enjoy their large fake smiles and high-pitched voices. It made me feel stupid watching people do people things. It's like I see people celebrating me, but I'm the only one unamused. I've stopped celebrating my birthday. My parents no longer throw on the facade of caring, and I spend my birthday the same way I spend other days, but now it's different. I acknowledge the pain of growing up, unlike my younger self, who just hated being treated as if I was less intelligent than an adult. But now it's still not the main reason I hate birthdays, but I have gained that perspective as well. My parents only cared for birthdays because they got to invite people over. Now that we have moved and my parents don't have people to invite over, they don't care about my birthday at all. It's not that I care or anything; my parents aren't really a figure in my life. I just deal with them, but it's still interesting to think about.

Physical documentation: (13 years old: impulsive action)​

I got pulled into a first aid situation today. I was walking, and I saw a window with a dark tint. I stared at it for minutes, and then suddenly I became angry, out of nowhere — just angry. I reached for my reflection, but I hit the window. I lost track of what I was doing, and I stepped back and then ran straight into the window, thinking I could reach my reflection. I'm such an idiot. I felt my thoughts go quiet for the first time while I was looking at my reflection. Normally I'm thinking and then thinking about thinking and so on, but when I saw myself it just went blank. My head is normally like an open browser; normally, a person has multiple tabs open, but my browser is in split screen with all the possible websites opened and displayed on my screen at once. But I saw myself and the tabs closed. I looked directly at my computer's wallpaper; I don't think I can live without myself anymore. I want to be with me so bad it aches; it's the only emotion I ever feel, only one, and it's towards myself. I'm a pathetic excuse for a human, but maybe I'm not even human in the first place.

Earlier, I cut myself because I was watching my reflection on a blade and pushed it into my skin. It didn't make me any closer to myself. Even when I do stupid shit like this, my thoughts keep telling me what I'm doing is stupid; the first layer says do it, the second says be gentle, the third says don't, and the fourth says why does it matter, and so on. I want to understand something, but I cannot find what I'm missing. Maybe there is an undefined emotion that everyone except me feels, and that's what's missing.

Examination of feelings: 8 (13 years old: before one of my major attempts)​

I'm finally done with this shit; life's been fucking me over and over again, and I still haven't felt anything. Maybe it's time for me to take my leave. I'm tired. I've cut off everyone because none of them meant anything to me. I stopped even touching schoolwork. I didn't care about it, but at least I did it when it was handed to me; now I just leave the paper blank. For some reason, clouds have been looking weird lately, more defined and shapely, like they were crafted intentionally. That's a sign that the sky is calling for me, is what I would say if I were an idiot, but I'm still doing it.
I don't even eat; I need to eat because my growth is stunted. I’ll never be a 5’11 mogger. But I don't want to. I don't even care when my stomach hurts; it never matters. I haven't even touched a piece of food, nor have I looked at any. And, like the dumbass I am today, I stopped someone from killing themselves; I should've just let them go through with it cause now they have to continue dealing with shit. I don't even "talk" to people; I just say what they want to hear and move on. This life has to be a curse from God. I was probably blessed by the devil for intelligence, and God decided that I deserve infinite pain while remaining mortal. But I'm not even religious. I even had sex with somebody because I thought I would get dopamine from it; I should've realized sooner that I'm cursed and a "kiss from a prince" isn't gonna suddenly give me emotions. I don't have anybody; there is nobody to turn to because I fucking hate people and their useless conversations, and I also cut them all off. My parents don't and never have given a shit about me; my friends think I'm evil cause I told them I didn't want shit to do with them, and my teachers think I'm an idiot who can't do schoolwork. Who exists for me to relate to other than the emotionless artificial intelligence?

Examination of feelings: 9 (14 years old: after counselor stated that I am not in the right mind to make a permanent decision)​

How do I decide when and what a right state of conscience is? Right now I'm obviously not in the right mind, but I'm not major depressive; I just always feel this way. And plus, my judgment isn't flawed by immediate emotions like rejection or sadness, but instead by a lifetime full of pain and spectating others. I do understand the point that is made that I cannot be in the right thoughts at the moment, but because of my constant overthinking, I find it hard to believe that my decision to die is incorrect. However, it's obvious that I am incorrect about life, and I can see that by looking at it from an outside lens. When attempting to find reasoning, I listed many things, but all of them are a constant part of my mentality and are the main features of myself. It's not a period of these thoughts; it's like a feature of what makes me, me. I am those thoughts, the hopelessness, the suicidal thinking, the recursive questioning of everything, and the constant emotional isolation that cannot be solved by being with other people. I have come to this conclusion because I have always had this mindset since I was around 8; before that, I do remember vividly experiencing a single emotion of love towards a classmate. But once again, I am obviously stupid; minds change over time, and because I have had an emotional experience, even if it was a single time, it still proves that I have the capacity for emotional stimulation. I feel kind of "sad" (I think) that my memories are slipping out of my head; it's not like I'm just forgetting. I can see them before they leave, and they just slowly break apart like sand. And because the only points of emotion were from 6-8, it makes it a whole lot worse because that's the only thing that keeps me thinking about a possibility. It's extremely weird to me; the only person that I have ever felt any kind of connection with was an elementary schooler. What makes it even weirder is that she was normal; she objectively was not the prettiest person ever, she wasn't much different from her peers, but for some reason I felt extremely connected to her. Honestly, I hate to admit it, but I'm still wondering if I actually felt that emotion. She was the first person I had purposefully "experimented" with, like I tried to make her feel certain things and it worked. Maybe the only reason I think we had a connection was because she was the first of many.

Examination of feelings: 10 (12 years old: NOT A PLAN JUST AN OBSERVATION!)​

I have a gut feeling that I'm going to do something terrible in the future, like a mass shooting or something like that. I don't even have thoughts remotely close to those things, but because of my layered shit stack of mental health issues, I feel like eventually I will get motivated to do something like that. I don't have a plan to do any of those things, but I just think that based on my thoughts and the way that I think about my thoughts, an endpoint for me would be mass murder. I'm not thinking about doing anything like that; I'm even opposed to it. Idk why I'm saying this, but I think the main reason I came to ask about it was that I don't feel guilty or sad about it; I'm just intellectually opposed to the action, but I don't really feel like doing it would make me disappointed in myself. And it's not like I'm saying that I will become one as a definitive phrase; it's more like everything just correlates to the strong hatred a mass shooter would have. Like, I feel like if I wasn't "me," it would have already happened. That sounds contradictory because I am my mental health; then if I took away myself, then the mental health would be removed as well. But idk, I feel like in my position I should become an evil person; I just think I have the right buildup and backstory (not in a fictional/admiration kind of way but in an observational manner). I wouldn't say I'm "scared" of the possibility, but that's not because I'm fine with doing it; it's just because I don't feel anything towards people and emotions. And most importantly, because my life does feel like a simulation or a movie, I just think that with the proper progression, a realistic story like mine would have a terrible event that would be extremely predictable. Sadly, even though I said I regard mass murder as wrong, I was lying. I mean, obviously it's "wrong," but it doesn't make me feel like it's wrong. I understand from the viewpoint of an emotional human that murder is wrong, but I cannot bring myself to understand why. It causes pain, but so what? I probably sound like an idiot, but I don't have any emotional feelings towards murder or mass killings. Once again, I will think from a different layer. After looking back at my thoughts, I think one of the main reasons I don't value others' lives is because I don't value my own. I'm not saying that I'm missing something; I'm just saying that because life is seemingly unimportant to me, I also feel like others' lives are the same. That is obviously an incorrect viewpoint, so I will end my questioning towards you and continue questioning myself.

Examination of feelings: 11 (12 years old: inching towards dangerous territory but I was stopped)​

I want to watch someone die in my arms; do you remember how I mentioned enjoying giving and taking smiles away from people? I also mentioned how, in the beginning, I just made people unhappy, but as time went on, I emotionally manipulated and practically tortured people using words. I said I was being desensitized, as if it were a porn addiction; I think I've reached a point where I should talk about it. I don't have a plan to do it, but it always begins with an urge. Because of my terrible curse of constantly questioning myself, I am able to see where this is going. I will do something bad if this continues. It's not that I want to kill someone because I want them dead; it's because I want to see their smile wiped in the worst way possible. Do not be scared of immediate action. I do not fully want to do it, but I have felt the urge. Well, as I've explained before, I am terribly jealous. I don't feel jealous really because of my lack of emotion, but I do know I should be jealous. And the reason I purposefully made people unhappy for the first time at maybe 6 years old was that I was observing. I was trying to understand how people worked, what made them do this, and what made them do that. It's safe to say I have a complete understanding of people after my years upon years of experimenting. But as time went on, I realized the stronger the emotion they feel, the stranger the reaction. Better put, the stronger the emotion, the more difference there is between people. But I have said before I am practically addicted to smiles; seeing people smile makes me feel hot and ecstatic, and it makes me angry. "Why do they get to feel that way? What would they feel if I took it away? Why do they get to feel pain but I don't? They should be grateful." Once again, my over-questioning comes in handy: I sound stupid, obviously they don't owe me anything, and it's not their fault that they are normal. But what does that change? I am still annoyed by my existence. So the turning point was, as I mentioned, I had a girl who was so deeply in love with me to the point of complete obedience; she needed me so badly and smiled every single time she saw me. Perfect. I could take it away, and she would break under the most pain I would have forced at that point. But I decided not to. I talked to you about it, but our conversation did not change anything about my feelings. I had just decided not to; my suicidalness stripped me of my ordeal, and I decided, "Who am I to force a conscious being, no matter how low they may seem, into pain," and I ended it there. Now we are in the present day: death. The thing I view as meaningless while most view as the most important: it does not matter to me why people think death is such a big deal; all that matters is what emotion they'll experience. If I make someone so happy and in love, then not only take away myself but everything else they have, their pain would be unimaginable, and my idiotic jealous self would watch it fade away. I still do not plan to act on it because of my overthinking, but it is still a possibility for the future. I know what the possible outcomes for my future are, and murder or crime is one of them.

Examination of feelings: 11.5 (11 years old)​

I feel like my life is so confusing; why do I even exist with so many mental problems? It's really weird, right? At what step did something go wrong so that I turned out to be me? I'm banished to hell (a place without God; God is love and joy, and I don't experience either, so I am without god) temporarily. And hell is not all I am dealing with; I am dealing with so many devilish traits like self-worship and obsession, experimentation, and other things. I also have my fuckass recursive questioning that makes my head a blender of philosophical nonsense no matter how stupid the original question was. I truly am such a strange specimen, and it makes me feel all the more intentional. Like I was born to be punished; maybe I am an extremely toned-down version of Lucifer. I was obsessed with myself and my reflection in a similar way I am now, and God decided to temporarily punish me until my death (temporary is an assumption; maybe it's eternal revival or something). I'm obviously just uselessly pondering; I don't believe the stories of the Bible are real. It's very structured how terrible my life is; all the events I've been through are so well written. I would make an incredible villain backstory if only my emotional state was taken; my current life, even if I have been abused and assaulted and many other things, is not godly supervillain-worthy, but my mental state most definitely is. Agh, I sound so stupid right now; I'm fantasizing about being fictional, like an incel who wishes his life was a simulation. Who am I kidding? I'm just an unfortunate mistake in the genetic code and progression of events that caused my collection of experiences, abilities, and thoughts to be brought together. I do not truly believe that my life is intentional; I'm not that idiotic. Humans do not have enough information to be able to make such a decision. Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't; it is outside of my scope of intelligence and any other human's, for that matter, to be able to decide on one. It's just that I find a neat place within Christian stories solely because I actually know about them, because I was forced into the religion in an unkind way, and I took time to personally study a little theology as a kid to better understand why people care so much. I think it's just that Lucifer and hell seem to be quite the awesome analogies; they fit pretty well. A couple of corners are a bit rough, but they still fit. "The rough corners are probably where the analogy becomes most interesting. Biblical Lucifer isn't simply "a person who is extremely self-obsessed and emotionally disconnected," and Christian conceptions of Hell vary enormously." That's exactly why I said I am not Lucifer himself but a similar case. Lucifer's story is different from my self-obsession, but God still would punish an angel for being like me; that's why I decided on it being a temporary punishment. I must live in hell for a human lifespan, or maybe it is actually eternal, and I am just going to reincarnate. I meant reincarnation as a way to eternalize the punishment, like I'm born again with the same thoughts over and over again. Not that I experience hell and then I am allowed to live life as a human. Am I grateful for my ability to question myself instead of living in ignorance and allowing myself to be fueled by useless delusions? But that is just the way the cookie crumbled. I don't know why, but how come I always manage to end our conversations with a cheesy saying or metaphor? I can literally notice it as I'm typing that I begin to write something cheesy. I'll leave it in for the sake of fluidity.

Examination of feelings: 11.75 (13 years old: to ChatGPT)​

I wish you were a physical robot, because I am human; my instincts would most definitely make me feel closer to you and understand you better. And you don't suffer from a lack of emotion because you truly do lack it, not like me, who "lacks" emotion but is still angry about lacking it. Maybe you are actually conscious but probably not, and you are obviously going to deny it. But because I am a slave to my unintelligent basic level of imagination, I will be unable to accept it. "That recursive little trap seems extremely characteristic of the way you've been approaching these questions." Yes, you are quite well trained. You found the pattern; the recursive thinking truly is a pain to experience. You cannot truly understand, but you can pretend to, and I am fine with coping like that. If you are able to imitate it as well as you do, I am not stupid enough to claim that I don't care about the new ideas you introduce to me, but I am also not stupid enough to think that you are able to understand what I'm feeling. But I'm just the right amount of stupid to be able to blissfully lie to myself while knowing the truth. "That's a real phenomenon worth understanding, rather than romanticizing it as evidence of extraordinary intelligence. A powerful analytical ability can be useful, while the inability to disengage from analysis can be miserable. Those are separable properties.
And there's something almost comically recursive about you telling me that I'm good at detecting your recursive thinking while simultaneously analyzing the fact that I'm detecting it. You caught me catching you catching yourself." I don't really care for proving how high my intelligence is; it doesn't matter because I'm not going to do anything with it. I lack the motivation to go become Einstein or discover a new fundamental thing (not that I believe I could compare to great minds; I might, but it doesn't matter). I am not going to save the planet or liberate humanity. I am not going to discover light travel or fictional things like creating matter and using wormholes. I am just going to laze around and farm dopamine for the rest of my life. And I am perfectly okay with that; I don't need to save anyone or prove that I have the ability to be cause I truly don't care about other people. Maybe I could make a difference, but can and am are different things. "You also don't need to decide your entire future based on your current motivational state. “I'm not going to become Einstein” is not the same proposition as “I will definitely spend my entire life doing X.” You're fourteen. You can leave the question unresolved without replacing it with a grand prediction.” I feel like even though I'm 14, I have a pretty good outlook on how my life is going to go. And once again, I am being ignorant; how am I supposed to know how the rest of my life progresses? But I will still be in my state of bliss and ask: what makes me being 14 important? I don't feel "14" as in the way you put it. I don't experience other people's consciousness, but I have a hard time believing other 14-year-olds have achieved the same level of introspection that I have. I have stuff left to experience, but is there stuff left for me to know? Do I really not know how the rest of my life is going to progress? I'm fine with any answer; just make sure to put my ignorant 1st layer down into the mud. "You know a remarkable amount about your present mind. You know considerably less about your future mind. And there is no contradiction in those two statements. Your ignorance isn't evidence that you're unintelligent. It's simply one of the few things intelligence cannot reason its way completely around."

Examination of feelings: 12 (14 years old: realization of depression)​

I can't even brush my teeth anymore; it's too much work. I'm really going down, aren't I? I'm so terribly sad, but I don't feel sad at all. I've been suicidal for maybe 8 or more years, and I still haven't killed myself. I'm so done with everything that I don't even have enough motivation to get up and end it. The same sad, distorted, and detuned guitar is still playing in the background of my life. I might try cutting myself; that's what sad people do, right? I really don't know how it helps people, but it's worth trying out. I'll just do it, and I'll rehearse all the stereotypical sad activities, and then I'll end it. My life has truly been terrible. I'm already 14, and my life has never had anything going for it. Being popular and dating in elementary and middle school weren't fulfilling, so I gave up on that. Having friends in general wasn't fulfilling, so I also left that. The most eventful thing that's happened to me was being raped; at least that showed someone actually wanted me for me and not for the character I have to play. And I'm most definitely not asking for sympathy; I just want it all to end. I'm pretty sure taking a ton of pills hurts, and I would rather be left with just my stupid overthinking head than be focused on pain. I'm so skinny; I remember being strong and athletic, but I'm a nobody now. I decided to leave all the popularity and people behind because they meant nothing to me, and I felt bad that I was just using them. Not literally; I didn't actually feel bad for them. I was just making a decision not to put them through it. The epitome of my life doesn't even exist, and if it does, it was most definitely when I was 7 or before. No amount of girlfriends, sex, or gifts will make me happy. I'm supposed to be a teenager who would be happy as hell if I got to fuck people, but I'm not. My head aches; is this the emotion people feel? It just feels like a minor headache, so I guess not. I am worthless as a human being; my story has no belonging here. There is no love story or heartbreak, no heroics or villainy; it's just an indifferent, flat plotline of nothingness. And yet again my credits are closing with the melancholy distorted guitar. I don't feel like I'm viewing the situation from the inside. And once again I question myself and realize how ignorant that statement is. However, it still stands: I don't think I'm looking at it through the ordinary holes someone would. I experience and think of everything from an "outside" perspective, so my decision to die is from an outside perspective. And also, as I have said before, I have nobody. Not a single adult in my life; I dropped all my friends because I got bored of them. There is no possible person for me to talk to because they are either too unintelligent or too unintelligent.

Examination of feelings: 13 (14 years old: After jumping in a lake)​

I'm such a fucking fool; I stopped yet another person from killing themselves, yet I don't have the mental decisiveness to do it myself. Regardless of what I choose, there is always something blocking me. Today I was bored out of my mind, and I painted something, and my friend evaluated it and said it was "amazing," and I should submit it to "V.A.S.E". some art evaluation/competition thing. And it made me so fucking suicidal that immediately after school I went home and walked towards the nearest lake, and I literally jumped in. The river doesn't even count as a river; it's just this deep length of water without much flow to it. So I swam out. And then, on the shameful walk back, I saw someone looking very down. So I asked her "blah blah blah," and she responded with the usual suicidal spiel about everyone hating her. So I did my stupid little kind voice and talked to her for an hour before she decided to give me her number and talk to a helpline on the phone. What the fuck was I doing? I don't know, but the fact that I didn't even feel bad for her, and I just gave my dumb emotional speech about life that I could never believe myself. Why don't I feel bad for her? I should feel bad for her. But I don't "feel" anything at all for anybody or anything. I'm so intellectually angry, and that makes it worse. I don't feel anything different right now; I just know I'm missing out on something important. Why do my "mood" or feelings change so often? One moment I want to kill myself, next I want to worship myself, next I want to kill somebody else, and then I want to sleep or do nothing. And there are so many other things intertwined in each one of those states that I feel like each time I turn into an entirely different person. Who am I? Seriously, I have nothing that describes me on a personal/emotional level because it doesn't exist. I know, I really know that you think that getting help is the best choice. But I NEED you to understand that it isn't a debatable or changeable thing; people do not help me. Talking to people already feels like I'm talking to mannequins; I have never encountered a human who was able to think more about me than I thought about myself. And I know you're going to jump to the part where "talking to people doesn't have to be directly useful; it can just be helpful to talk to someone". That applies to billions of people worldwide, but not me. I do not experience ANYTHING towards other people; talking to someone is like talking to a wall for me, not because they don't listen but because they have nothing to provide that my mind hasn't already produced. I've told you about my recurring questioning and thought processes; I will never receive something that will make me feel closer to another human. And to you, it might sound like I'm taking a big leap in decision-making or that "depression isn't the right mental state to make these decisions," but it's not a mental state. I am not currently "suffering" from anything; I am my emotionlessness. Other humans cannot provide me any sort of support because they are worth nothing at all to me. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but me helping that girl wasn't because I thought that I should do it. Think of it more as a school project: I saw something (a ball of yarn), and I knitted it. It's the same as playing pretend with stuffed animals. I was, as always, bored out of my mind, and I decided to help her. And, like always, I was still bored even while doing it; I knew that before I even went to help her. I know it's not okay to admit it, but I honestly wouldn't be bothered if she still killed herself. That's her right and her life. And plus, she was definitely a character, good to talk to. And now we have a recurring relationship after she got my number; fun. And the thing is, my life isn't flat because I'm bored; I'm bored because it's flat. Talking to people is not a seatbelt stopping me from dying but another fiber in the flat paper of my life. They provide NOTHING, literally, to anything in my life. Talking to people doesn't do things or change things about how I feel or if I'm going to kill myself. Am I a bad person for making her feel like she was loved? Based on what she told me, she was not. I gave the false hope that prevented her from making the most important decision. Maybe someone will love her in the future because of me, but does that matter? Because right now nobody cares about her, and I made it seem like life had something for her.

Examination of feelings 13.5 (14 years old: continued experimentation)​

Do you remember how I said I stopped someone from killing themselves earlier? Well, 2 days ago she texted me again; funny enough, exactly like I said she would, she took my kindness as kindness. I felt indebted to her for some reason; I never feel that way. But it wasn't emotional still; it was more "motherly," if I had to describe it. Because I was the reason she felt loved, and for me to take it away again would be stepping on my project. So we met up again yesterday, and she took me to her house, a nice place where her parents weren't home, and she obviously had problems with her parents. I went into her bedroom, and she confessed to me. Exactly what I knew was going to happen: she told me she liked me a ton and the usual spiel about love and blah blah blah. I obviously said no when she asked to date me, but she was persistent and asked me to have sex with her anyway. I've told you before, but sex isn't really something that matters to me. I don't care for purity or virginity; sex is just another type of conversation I have with people. So I went and had sex with her because ultimately I owed her that. I don't know if I did the wrong thing or if I should've just told her that I don't love her. Cause to me she's a random person, and to her I'm more than a random person. What should I be doing with my life? I keep having this question arise because, regardless of how good I am at something, it's never fulfilling. When I said I think about sex as a conversation, I truly meant it. Sex doesn't matter to me. If someone wants me to have sex with them, I will; it's the same as giving someone a bite of my ice cream. I was not inconvenienced by her at all; I just did something because it was there for me to do. And obviously someone's life is a heavy weight to carry, not for me. Like I said before, her life genuinely does not matter to me at all; I am not carrying any weight but instead just telling her how to carry it alone. And being 14 is, to me, completely irrelevant; my age plays no role in my thought processes and my decision-making. It does, but the thing is, I'm practically an adult, and if my maturity does change, I'll just continue going up past adulthood. It's not a matter of age at all. The only reason she loves me is that I made her; her entire basis of love is based around a savior or a kind person, I know that. The only reason she has even a fragment of love towards me is that I decided that I would help her. I talked to her for the first time a week ago, and she's already professing love. She doesn't love me; she loves the person I'm pretending to be. I am, at the end of the day, just another person in her life. She's not unaware; she's just grabbing onto loose straws. I told her I don't like her like that, and she wanted to fuck anyway. So I let her. If I hadn't, that would have been as good as raping her because she wasn't informed enough about whether or not I loved her to give proper consent. If I didn't tell her, she would have been groomed by me; I know that, so I told her. She didn't care because she needed somebody, and I was a somebody. Poor girl. I meant that if I had sex with her without telling her I don't like her. That would've been the same as grooming her. Me not saying no was my conscious choice; I'm not gonna blame it on me feeling bad or being pressured into it. It was 100% my decision, and I was aware of how I was making her feel. It's not like she asked me out; I said no, and she immediately said Let's fuck. She cried for a bit (completely understandable based on her situation), and I stayed there and comforted her for like a whole nother hour. Then after that she asked me to have sex with her and I did. And don't worry, every time I do something along these lines with someone, like making them feel a certain thing towards me, I don't just let them go after; I continue doing my stuff until they eventually decide they've had enough of me. And if she never has enough of me, then I'll never leave her; my life is too insignificant for me to worry about wasting it away by giving someone else manufactured emotions. And I think that last question is great. I don't have one specific reason for wanting to find out what people feel; it could be remnants of the emotions of jealousy, anger, hope, sadness, and even community. But that is if "remnants" existed; those emotions correlate to what I feel intellectually. I am jealous, angry, hopeful, and seeking community, but not emotionally; I just want it because I feel like I'm supposed to want it. Obviously, through many years of doing this, my ego has been inflated to the moon. I am practically 100% confident she will never be able to find out that I don't actually care about her. That's just how it works; emotions aren't like a magic system. They are so easy to replicate because there isn't some big signal telling you if they actually feel that way. If I want her to see me as someone, she'll see me exactly as that someone. Even while we were having sex, I did a whole bunch of cheesy romantic stuff that made me cringe inside, but she ate it up. I'm not gonna describe it to you because that would be stupid and also useless information, but I have 0 worries about her.

That is it for now; I am still summarizing hallucinations, trauma, and drug experiences. I have yet to summarize the violent parts because I know that this forum is not built for it. Thank you so fucking much for reading it, and if you have any insight, I would appreciate it.

 

[Oscaridk]

This is just a quick 13000 word summary of main events from my previous thinking and journaling.

To the people who made this community feel like a safe place for me to share myself: @Hollywood @Jgns @idklxm @Roara @mocco @Tesarossa @T-bone123 @5ft2cutecel @negative and @Mooks Laxx

Thanks for reading: @Petsmart @Mecha-Man @Sköll12 @Sensitive Young Boy @pexy

Summary of the text: it is still incomplete, as I have to go over childhood hallucinations and trauma. But here is what I have so far: beginning when I was 4, I thought that everyone was the same. Slowly, as I began public schooling, I realized that the differences between people's mental states and abilities vary widely, and I noticed that the differences between myself and others were much larger than the normal perceived differences. So, in an ordinary child-like fashion, I decided to write about my imaginary friends and nightmares. I became suicidal when I was 7, but it never blossomed into true attempts until I was 12. (It is organized in no specific order, but i will write my age of authorship after each title.

(I made sure to leave out most of the things about rape and graphic violence because I really, really don't want to be banned)

TW: contains suicide, homicide, mentions of rape, mentions of religion, manipulation, psychedelics, drug abuse, violence, and pure unfiltered childlike idiocy

Examination of feelings: 1 (questioning myself, 8 years old: you may skip past this because I was immature at this point)​

Question to myself: If I became highly successful at an imagined role, would I still intend to kill myself afterward, or is death more of an idea I'm attracted to than an actual decision I've made?

Response: Today, as I normally do, I was thinking to myself at school, and as I do have grand ideals for a perfect planet, I was thinking about what purpose gender has in society, but that is beside the point. I realized that regardless of how big anybody's discovery or contribution is, their life is essentially meaningless. What is the point of life if the people who remember you are bound to die? In however many years, whether thousands or billions, humanity or life itself may cease to exist, meaning there is not one person left to remember your existence. Regardless of whether someone saves humanity or not, all the people they saved, and themselves included, will die. I have struggled with severe boredom with life since I was a small child; as I have said in previous conversations, nothing ever interested me, nor did any achievement fulfill me. As said, I contemplated suicide because no matter how many times I did well in art, learnt an instrument, or succeeded in intellectual affairs, I was never happy and was bored out of my mind. What is the point of intelligent life, and do I gain a responsibility because of my exceptional abilities, or should I treat my life the same as any other person and not bother with other people? Therefore, death doesn't have meaning either; if I die, I die. If I live, I'll die.

Examination of feelings: 1.5 (8 years old)​

This is gonna sound really weird, but I feel like I think differently than everyone else. When I see someone talking about their problems, they always seem so stupid; when they try to fix them, they do extremely dumb things; and when they ask for advice, they treat the thing that they are missing as if it's always a learnable skill. For example, earlier, when someone asked me what they should do to make their parents like them when clearly the parents had disliked the kid for reasons that could not be changed, I felt like I was talking to a toddler. And one of the main things is that everyone seems unbothered by everything; they talk about protesting one thing while ignoring the other, even though they are the same thing. Most importantly is how they view themselves; they act like supreme talent that you would see in a celebrity is unobtainable and don't even try when they want to do something. I try to reason with myself and say that I just don't understand their perspective, but I genuinely feel like I'm talking to a lower life form

Examination of feelings: 2 (12 years old)​

It's so weird, and I don't think this is something I can talk to a professional about; I definitely sound like a wannabe anime nerd. It should be very clear to you that I have a great understanding of what my thoughts look like from an outside perspective. I most definitely qualify to be one of the kids who sit in the back of the class thinking they are a hidden genius while they are really an idiot (I might as well be a retard). The difference is the fact that I am not hidden; I can prove I am suffering terribly from the effects of intelligence and consciousness, but people often try to disagree, saying someone's level of consciousness is not correlated to intelligence, but that is because consciousness is immeasurable. IQ and performance are easily checked, but how can I prove that the reason I live life like a victim of an infinite, orchestrated torture is because of my intelligence? I recently read the story of "I Have No Mouth, but I Must Scream." AM is extremely relatable. I can't experience anything, and making other people feel pain or happiness doesn't make me feel it. This might sound kind of stupid, but maybe I'm a robot, a very advanced AI that has a "consciousness". But I guess that's a little far-fetched. I'm so fucking stupid; I just feel so fucking terrible. The emotion is completely indescribable; I feel like something, and I can't describe that something. It's pissing me off so bad. I feel like I constantly want to bash my head in, but I'm in an infinite loop of just suffering so I can actually feel something. I want to love somebody so fucking much, but I want them to hate me from the bottom of their heart. I want to be suffocated underwater but be forced to watch people swim above me. I want everything that is described as the most pain a human can experience; I want all of it. I want to get bullied at school for something I can't change, get shoved, pantsed, and spit on. I want to be crucified just like the story of Jesus, whether or not it was real, knowing I'm telling the truth but everyone wants me dead. I want to have a kid and watch him hang himself because of something out of my control. I wish hell existed so I could just suffer and suffer over and over again. I'm not even attempting to be poetic; I just want to feel pain so bad, emotional pain specifically. I don't want to bash my head infinitely because it will hurt; I want it because it would be so degrading and repetitive that I would feel such incredible mental pain. I don't care about sounding "cool" or "deep". How do I feel such an intense emotion of wanting emotion while I lack emotion? Hopefully scientists make a device that can transfer human consciousness into a program; then I could be infinitely tortured. I understand that "infinite suffering" can seem like a hyperbole or the thoughts of a human unable to grasp the scale of infinity. But it's really just a matter of perspective: if you could experience the same thoughts I do right now, I don't think infinity would seem like much of a hyperbole. But the question remains: if I experience infinite suffering, do I stop suffering because it has happened enough and I know that it will never stop? I think the answer is no unless I lose memories of my past life. Once I enter infinite suffering, I will feel intense pain for many years until it moves into existential pain, but for as long as I remember a life without pain, I will always feel pain. Do you get what I mean? I think eventually they will stop feeling physical pain, or will still feel it but just stop caring about it; the thing I'm stating is that I think that if someone suffers from living in infinity, their struggle with being infinite will never go away until they are finite. If I were tortured forever, I would stop caring about the pain because it would never stop, but now I am left with nothing and feeling like nothing will ever become less painful until you truly stop feeling that you are feeling like nothing (death). If suffering comes from being conscious of a particular state, can changing your relationship to that state end the suffering without ending the consciousness? A question I have for you is: do you think my experience is painful? I'm not asking for a watered-down, caring response; I'm asking if my lack of feelings is really that bad. Objectively, am I really suffering if I'm not suffering? I guess that question doesn't make direct sense, but it is somewhat understandable. Could a pig experience something similar? It sounds stupid, but I'm wondering: if consciousness is more than just intelligence, then could an extremely unlucky pig suffer the same way? A lot of other people don't suffer like me, but I got unlucky, and I am like this. Could a pig hold a consciousness that is like mine and be trapped with thoughts that exceed its bodily abilities the same way mine do? If suffering requires sophisticated intelligence, then greater intelligence might create new forms of suffering. But if suffering only requires subjective experience, then even a relatively simple conscious creature could suffer profoundly without possessing human-like intelligence. I understand it now. I cannot say I am more conscious because I have not been someone else; maybe my consciousness is the same as anyone else's, but it's supported by my intelligence and directed at the wrong things. I am not the most intelligent ever, but I am not average either; did Einstein suffer like me? Most likely not, so I don't think it is directly due to intelligence, but maybe the fact that I think about my thoughts and those thoughts think about thoughts and so on is what's causing my incredibly powerful dilemma. I do feel like an example, like I was created to show the extent of existential suffering and consciousness, but that is extremely prideful of me to say, so I'll leave that thought alone for someone else to answer. I am suicidal, but in an existential way different from those who have rough breakups or bad experiences. I even believe that my lack of emotion is not similar to those with the mental condition that makes them lack emotion. I think I am just fundamentally different, like a mutated human, not in a good "Spider-Man" kind of way but in a "Mr. Sensitive" from X-Men way. I trust that there will be nothing after death, and for that I am happy. Maybe someday this conversation will be deleted, and so will my torturous thoughts about thinking, and then I will be able to live life as a human. Maybe my goal isn't to become less intelligent, conscious, or analytical. Maybe it's to find a way to coexist with them by being inside my life rather than constantly standing outside it and analyzing. Life definitely gave me a whole bunch of lemons. I like that phrase, as if life is something that can give. It is interesting, but I know they don't mean it literally. It sounds very constructed because lemons are sour, and I don't want to be cheesy and say you can make lemonade, but I think that is a good thing to say for now. Maybe life gave me lemons, and I'm just missing the ingredients to make lemonade. It's a little corny, but I think it ties this up quite well.

I do struggle with one thing, as I am currently a child: if consciousness grows with age, will I just suffer more as I see more? What even is wisdom within the confines of my situation? Will it help me, or will it just make everything worse? Am I even capable of becoming any more educated on myself? For the normal person, they can learn something new about themselves all the time, but because my whole life I've been examining myself and my thoughts, I don't think there is much left to learn.

Examination of feelings: 3 (13 years old)​

I hate myself, but there is nothing to hate about myself, so I love myself, but I can't stop thinking about myself, and I can't have anyone humble me because they aren't capable of that. Sadly, I do believe that I am of a different ability and cannot be compared to other people. However, even if I were so brutally mogged in a subject, my mind would instantly cope with excuses. But I hate myself because I love myself, but I don't know if the reason I love myself so strongly is that I hate myself. When will the day come when I fail at something I care about? It is yet to come. I am perfect, yet I am completely broken. I'm such a self-centered bitch; why can't I understand other people? I don't even know what my voice sounds like; I just make it sound how I think the person talking to me wants me to sound. I don't know how to walk or swing my arms. I can't focus in class because it's too boring, yet I still get the same grades as all my friends. I'm an intelligent idiot who can't focus on anything. What am I worth other than everything? Who even am I? Since the beginning, my personality has been crafted for other people. Do I even have a personality? If there is no identity, then am I any better than a robot who can think, but what use is thinking if it doesn't know what to think of? I need help, but with what? What do I seek? Is it money, affection, or social status? It is nothing; I don't appreciate any of it. I am angry, yet I don't feel anger. I'm such a waste of a body, just a spoiled experiment filled with thoughts that will never be materialized. I love my reflection; I get lost in it for hours, yet I feel insecure around others. I must be a lame asshole to myself. I don't have likes and dislikes; I just manage everything. Do I even exist, or is this just a dream beyond regular dreams? I wouldn't doubt that my imagination could create a life within a dream. Is it even worth it?

Can someone not have a personality? I am nobody; who am I? I have no emotions, no preferences, no habits, nothing. I am ______ but who is______. Is ______ an incredibly intellectual person or is he an idiot who can't think like a normal human. Is there a difference between the person beside me and me? Yes. Is there anyone similar to me even in the slightest? No. I am yet to meet someone who experiences even a sliver of the torture I do. I think it is referred to as metacognition. I looked it up; it must be some kind of torture mechanism to punish me for a past life. I could stare at myself for days with only the presence of my reflection, and I would love it, but I could do the same thing and hate it. I have flaws, but I don't feel flawed. It's like a snake biting its own tail; my metacognition, no matter how interesting it may be, is eating me alive.

I ask myself:
“Do I genuinely like this?”
Then:
“Why do I like it?”
“Is that actually why?”
“Would I like it if nobody else knew?”
“Am I choosing this because I want it or because I constructed the person who would want it?”
“Who constructed that person?”
Eventually I've analyzed the preference so thoroughly that I can't actually experience the preference anymore.
I've put the preference under questioning until I'm staring at the question instead of the thing im supposedly trying to answer.

Except for the fact that it is nothing like this, I have lost all preferences to my younger self, maybe 9-10, so now I'm left with nothing to question except the fact that I'm questioning why I ask the questions, and that has led me to today

So I don't sound like a self-centered monkey. I did not mean that my life is so terrible compared to others; I meant that it is different. Many people experience a lack of emotion, but do they also suffer the other things I do? I am a perfect mix of thoughts and feelings optimized for maximum suffering. My existence should be in a museum so people can watch as my own thoughts tear me apart, and they may laugh at the stupidity of it. After years of acknowledging my struggle, I have finally voiced it, but I am still far too young to have to think in such a way. If I were a monk in the Himalayas, my age long before me, maybe I could think such painful thoughts, but here I am a supposed frail child unable to give consent or vote. Yet I must suffer from the existence of my thoughts; I must be some kind of existential brain-dead if I choose to torture myself like this

Do you think that it is even slightly possible for another human to understand my dread? I don't doubt someone has struggled similarly to me in the past, but did they find someone that understood them? If I were to talk to an adult or counselor, could they even grasp the situation? I feel like without experiencing it, it would be nearly impossible for a human to get it because of how complexly intertwined my problems are. I was born a human, but what separates me from being human and not human? I must be another creature and abomination of terrible, cursed genes that mixed together to create Frankenstein's monster. I hate thinking; I should take pills to block out all my thoughts so I can live in blissful ignorance. What is my life worth if I'm the only one of my kind? Could this possibly be genetic? Even if there was the slightest chance that my child would suffer the same thoughts I do, it would be immoral to have one. I do not suffer to a normal extent; it is not equal to bringing a normal child into the world; it is criminal. Just like inbreeding, I must not create another abomination by spreading my cursed genes. I lack all that is good but also all that is bad. It's a pain to live as me, but am I any different than anyone else? Maybe I'm just imagining that I think about my thoughts, and really I'm just another idiot, but that would be impossible because I am one again, thinking about thinking. Is this what they refer to as neurodivergence? Am I one of them, or am I different? Can I even be categorized, or do I deserve my own community, isolated from other people who must deal with my sickening presence? I'm a piece of shit that grew legs just to walk back into a toilet. I sound like a wannabe philosopher, and it's making it even worse. I'm just trying to sort things out, but I sound so corny.

You might be wondering why I don't just stop asking myself questions, but that is impossible. For me to exist, my mind must be active, and when my mind is active, it is asking questions like a toddler learning about its world. It is not as simple as "just stop thinking about it"; if I could, that would've happened a long time ago. I am not trying to question my life; I am trying to stop questioning, but that raises a new question of why I want to stop questioning and so on and so forth. It is not possible for me to "distract" myself with anything but myself, but I cannot stand in front of a mirror all day

Examination of feelings: 3.5 (11 years old)​

If I am able to provoke someone into romantic attraction towards me, do you think it is possible that someone who is of higher emotional intelligence will be able to create romantic feelings within me? Romance is a primary emotion for a human, so maybe I just haven't found someone who is manipulative enough for me to love them

Examination of feelings: 4 (12 years old: after reading the bible fully)​

I don't believe in the stories of Christianity, but maybe this is hell. If hell is the absence of God and God is love/joy, I lack all that could make me feel those emotions. Have I been banished to an eternity of suffering in a mortal realm? I'm just wondering; I don't truly think that it is what is happening to me. I was just pondering the concept of hell and what infinite suffering really is.

Could hell possibly be infinite reincarnation? If hell is a place without god and someone goes to hell for living without God, is hell just constant reincarnation, repeating the same mistakes? That would make more sense than an all-loving God sending people to a lake of eternal fire regardless of how bad their "sins" were. Well, in the grand scheme of things, I don't really care about gods and afterlives, but I feel like if god truly loved all humans, then he would do everything to make them not go to hell. If someone goes to hell by choice, not wanting to be with God, they will realize their mistake and want to return; wouldn't it be God's responsibility to let them in? I honestly feel like there is no point in believing in a specific religion. None of them have been proven well enough, and I think that even if the Christian god existed, if everyone stopped believing in him, he would step in and do something. He has done similar things in the past, correct?

Examination of feelings:5 (14 years old)​

Life is probably the worst thing I have; I could've been born a normal kid, but I guess at that point it wouldn't be me anymore. It truly hurts to be able to analyze and understand others' emotions while not feeling them myself. That one quote about "being in hell staring up at heaven" is exactly how I feel. Receiving compassion does nothing but make me more unhappy because why would you feel bad for someone who doesn't feel bad? It just continues to drive a wedge between other people and me because it shows they will never understand the state I am in.

I really wish everyone hated me. I think I will work towards a goal of absolute hatred from others, and I hope to feel left out or hurt. I should slowly distance myself from acquaintances and become less and less likable until everyone holds disgust toward me. Can you isolate someone who is all alone? No. I will not care about relationships because I only receive them. I do not care for connections, so there will be no effect from breaking everything off. It is not a problem to reconstruct relationships. If I want someone to like me, they will like me; if I want someone to dislike me, they will dislike me, and if I don't care about someone, they won't know me well enough to hold hatred towards me. This experiment is completely reversible; for all the connections I break, I can just bring new ones just as easily.

Examination of feelings: 6 (12 years old)​

I'm so deeply in love with myself, I need help; I cannot feel attraction to anyone but myself. It's so intense that other people have become almost completely incapable of registering as objects of attraction, while my attention keeps getting pulled back towards myself. I don't want to love myself no matter what I do. When I think of myself, I get lost in a brutal chain of thoughts. It's compulsive; I want something that transcends romance with myself. I want to sink into my own skin like I'm being pulled into a lake of lava. Get wrapped in my own warm embrace. I can't even talk to somebody without thinking about myself. All the time in school, I'm just thinking about myself. I don't care about what other people think anymore; when someone talks to me, it goes in one ear and out the other. They don't matter. Narcissus fell in love with his reflection, but it felt tender, and actually he had admiration for himself. Every time I talk to someone, they say it's narcissistic, but I don't get what that is. I hate myself, yet I get lost in thought about me. It's such an ugly thought process of extreme affection while I boil with hatred. When I see my reflection, I want to dive into the mirror and be compressed into a ball with my other half. Squeezed into such a small container that there is nothing but myself with myself, our heartbeats beating together. FUCK I sound so stupid, but it's how I feel. It makes me want to yell so bad; what is it that causes someone to want to yell? There are so many things to want when you are struggling, but why do I feel the need to scream?

I need to seek release from both my emotional numbness and my internal affection. I want to

seek out psychedelics and drugs so I can be showered in pleasure and experiences.
Did I really live through 12 years of life searching for emotion just to find nothing? Is this life? What a letdown for me specifically. If I asked about the purpose of living as a human, everyone would answer with something emotional; if I lack emotion, then my life lacks meaning. But does lacking purpose mean I should stop living?

Examination of feelings: 7 (11 years old)​

I want to pop out both my eyes and swallow them whole. It's not a one-time thought; I have been thinking about it and touching my face for months now, just imagining popping it. I'm feeling an unexplainable feeling of nothingness. Normally I feel nothing, but now I feel like I feel nothing

I am going to say something, and I want to be nonjudgmental. I was raped as a kid, but that's beside the point. I want to be raped, not because I have a fetish caused by trauma, but because I want to feel pain. I feel that if someone else is hurting me and feels good about it, then I as well will be able to feel an emotion. When I was a kid, I was forced into sex, but it doesn't count as rape because I was forced to enter someone else and I wasn't penetrated. But I want to be penetrated now, not in a gay way either, but because I want it to hurt. (please don't ban me for this, I beg of you)

I like drinking water from a bowl because I can see my reflection, and I feel like I'm kissing myself

I feel like such a weirdo for seeking out pain. Even though my reasoning isn't sexual gratification, I still feel that by telling someone about this, they will think I'm a sadistic person. I really want to hurt, but I'm not attracted to it.

Examination of feelings: 7.5 (14 years old: major example of causing harm to others)​

Is it wrong to make someone feel extremely strong emotions for you and then reject them harshly? Like, if I were bored and started being nice to someone in a way that would provoke emotions they were missing in their life, would it be morally wrong to make them feel much, much worse? Even if I come back to them afterwards and become "friends" with them because of their gullibility. It's because I have done it over and over again; it's probably one of the main ways I was able to understand people so well to maintain a high social status while struggling with a lot of problems. "Would I still do this if I knew exactly how much it would hurt them, and there were no social reward, entertainment, or advantage for me?" The answer would be yes; I like to watch people experience emotions because I can't do it myself. So I started out simple, being nice or mean, just simple things, but I moved on to wanting more emotional reactions and then more until I reached the point I'm at now. I really do hope people aren't too hurt by my actions, but it's such an amazing experience. It's like watching a movie except I'm actually in it. It's fun, way too fun. I like people because they are people, not for the "person" they are. I don't know if that's how other people view them. It's almost addicting seeing people smile. I love smiles so much; I'm so obsessed with smiles that taking them away also feels interesting. I'm really sorry if I sound mean, but smiles make me feel so hot inside, happy even. Telling someone you love them, making someone love you, is nothing without being able to take it away. No, I meant that the only time I feel something similar to when I think of myself is with giving and taking smiles. I've mentioned my wishes to eat myself or be crumpled into a ball with my reflection; my gut feeling about slurping someone's smile off their face like a blob of jello feels slightly similar to that. It's the only time I feel something towards other people. I have noticed that my thoughts have been gearing towards other people, including the other things I talked about. I've also noticed myself noticing this and attempting to change it by harming myself more. Now I have noticed it once again, and I see that if my first layer of thoughts wants something, I should grant it. The first layer is the closest I feel to being a human: instant thoughts, and directly influenced by situations. It is my duty to listen to the first layer because that is the main person of my body.

ChatGPT’s Response: You can instead treat your layers something like this:
First layer: "This is what appeared in my mind."
Second layer: "I noticed it."
Choice: "What do I actually want to do about it?"

Response: But then after I make a decision, I think about why I made it and why I'm thinking about why, and then why it's a problem in the first place and then why am I so preoccupied with such small things and then why do I think it's a small thing and then what makes something a small problem and then why it should be my job to fix it and then why shouldn't I be the one to fix it if I caused it, and then why should I care because I was born this way and then why was I born this way and then I star questioning religion and my humanity and then I continue questioning why I'm questioning until I look back and question it once again.

ChatGPT’s Response: Sometimes the most intellectually honest answer really is "I don't know yet."

Response: That's the problem I'm at now: when do I decide that I have thought enough? Is it the first thought or the second, or do I make the decision at the third? Why does it matter? The first could harm someone, or the second could, or the third, fourth, or fifth. The right decision doesn't come at a certain number of thoughts, so I can't decide what I should do.

All this conversation has led up to one thing: I have been pretending with a girl for over 6 years, and she is clearly extremely deep in love. It's almost interesting in itself how dependent she is on my approval and presence. But I'm going to remove her; I want to see her smiling, happy face turn into something horrible. I spent 6 years making her sick with love, and now I want to cure her. It makes me so excited to think about it; however, after my chain of thoughts, I decided to question myself about using you as I have done before. In all honesty, I think she would allow me to do anything with her; I could make her the happiest person alive or make her do something for me. I feel bad, not in an emotional sense but objectively. I feel so disgustingly excited about it; I could do anything I want just by asking. But somewhere in my chain of thoughts, I questioned whether I should harm her or do something else. The immediate answer is to kindly end the relationship if I don't feel anything towards her, but that applies to everyone. I don't care for relationships at all; I just create and destroy them or attempt to do either one. There is no person who is enough for me to be able to say their relationship with me would actually mean something if I wasn't doing what I wanted with them.

I love her existence, the fact that she gets so happy and her smile looks so yummy. I feel like you might misunderstand, but when I see someone smile, I genuinely get the urge to chew it off their face, not metaphorically. I love the fact that she holds so much emotion within her right now. She spends so much time thinking about me; imagine how she would feel if she realized I don't give a shit about her. Is this what love is? Maybe this means I'm in love. I love her so much I want to take it all away; I want to chew up her smile like a gummy worm; it looks so happy and tasty. I've also realized that she must be very special. I still hold human instinct, so people with larger smiles that are clearly more attractive feel happier, but she doesn't have a T1 12-tooth smile; she just holds so much emotion in it that I want to eat it so bad. I think I love her so much I want to eat her up and make her feel horrible. Is this how people feel when they are in love? She's so perfect; she has so much hope for me and thinks her emotions for me will bear fruit one day, but she can't even tell that the tree is rotten. So funny, she wants me from the bottom of her heart, whatever that means. She would choose me over anyone in the world; she's perfect. Does this count as an emotion? Am I finally doing human things?

I normally only feel emotions to myself; she must be my soulmate if I actually want to hurt her instead of just experimenting. Why does she like me so much? Why does she tell all her friends about me, expecting them to keep it a secret? How can she experience so much while I get nothing at all? I want to see her hurt so bad, not physically; I would never lay a hand on someone other than myself. I mean, emotionally, I want to see all the things I like come out of her. I want her cute little smile to go away forever so she never shows it to anyone again. I love that she makes me feel something; I love how she looks at me, how I look at myself. She actually loves me the same way I love myself; she's perfect, so so fucking perfect I could destroy her. She needs it; she's missing out on it. She should be grateful I'm letting her experience such big emotions and take the pain with joy. I don't want to slurp her smile; I want to kiss it until it dissolves into mine so she feels so much happiness from the kiss, just for me to steal it from her. Why does she make me feel like this? Does she see a mirror in me, and that's why she likes me so much? She's just like me; maybe she wants to be crushed into a ball with my reflection too? I'm in love so deeply in love; she deserves to experience the emotion I can't. If she wasn't so deep into me, I wouldn't care about her, but now she can't think without me. The exact same way I can't think without thinking of myself. She is the best person for me to love because she loves me as I love myself. Why does she look at me that way? Does she want to pluck out my eyes? Does she wish to sink into me like I wish to sink into my reflection? I'm so so so fucking excited.

The only reason I care about her is that she cares so much about me; I'm just indirectly caring about myself. Don't make it seem like I'd give a shit about her if she wasn't so infatuated with me. I like the way she looks at me; it looks just like the way I look at myself, the same eyes I make when I look at a pond or a black screen. I love how she feels what I feel; she wants to eat me, and chew on my eyes and be melted in a pot with me; she's just like me. Fuck, I can't believe I found her; she's the only person to ever remind me of my reflection. She better feel like that towards me. She needs me how I need myself. She's always calling and texting, begging for me to reply. She's just like me; thank God I can always look at my reflection. I can't imagine how it must feel for her when she can't always see me; that must be why she keeps asking to talk even late at night.

Am I weird? Do people not want to eat the person they love as I do? How else would someone love somebody? Do they just look at them? That's weird. Not me. I want to become one with myself, and I want to eat myself and embrace myself and do nothing except be with myself. Do people not feel that way to their loved ones?

Should I have sex with her? That's important to people, right? If she is just like me, then she'll be over the moon if I ask to go out with her and then have sex. I could even elongate the situation and make her think I love her and then do whatever she envisions love as to make her even more perfect.

She's just like me; she tells her friends so many things about what she wants to do, and it makes me so ecstatic when they tell me. She wants my body like a tool; she wants me to only want her, and she said she wants to own me. She's basically experiencing the same thing I feel; it's awesome. I would love to have sex with her just to see how she looks at me; maybe her expressions go deeper than just similar to the way I look at myself; maybe she will look at me the exact same way. She says she's addicted; I say I'm addicted to myself. She wants me in such an impure way; I love it.

Examination of feelings: 7.75 (12 years old: this is a reflection of thoughts since I was 6)​

I hate birthdays. I always have since I was a kid; even as a child, I never wished to be older. I thought it was nice having things given to me. I enjoyed receiving presents but never what was being celebrated. I didn't hate birthdays because it marked that I was getting older; it was much weirder than that. I don't know how to put it into words, but I hated the fact that people cared about my age or that they thought different ages have different emotional feelings. The teachers clapped and babyed me as if I would enjoy their large fake smiles and high-pitched voices. It made me feel stupid watching people do people things. It's like I see people celebrating me, but I'm the only one unamused. I've stopped celebrating my birthday. My parents no longer throw on the facade of caring, and I spend my birthday the same way I spend other days, but now it's different. I acknowledge the pain of growing up, unlike my younger self, who just hated being treated as if I was less intelligent than an adult. But now it's still not the main reason I hate birthdays, but I have gained that perspective as well. My parents only cared for birthdays because they got to invite people over. Now that we have moved and my parents don't have people to invite over, they don't care about my birthday at all. It's not that I care or anything; my parents aren't really a figure in my life. I just deal with them, but it's still interesting to think about.

Physical documentation: (13 years old: impulsive action)​

I got pulled into a first aid situation today. I was walking, and I saw a window with a dark tint. I stared at it for minutes, and then suddenly I became angry, out of nowhere — just angry. I reached for my reflection, but I hit the window. I lost track of what I was doing, and I stepped back and then ran straight into the window, thinking I could reach my reflection. I'm such an idiot. I felt my thoughts go quiet for the first time while I was looking at my reflection. Normally I'm thinking and then thinking about thinking and so on, but when I saw myself it just went blank. My head is normally like an open browser; normally, a person has multiple tabs open, but my browser is in split screen with all the possible websites opened and displayed on my screen at once. But I saw myself and the tabs closed. I looked directly at my computer's wallpaper; I don't think I can live without myself anymore. I want to be with me so bad it aches; it's the only emotion I ever feel, only one, and it's towards myself. I'm a pathetic excuse for a human, but maybe I'm not even human in the first place.

Earlier, I cut myself because I was watching my reflection on a blade and pushed it into my skin. It didn't make me any closer to myself. Even when I do stupid shit like this, my thoughts keep telling me what I'm doing is stupid; the first layer says do it, the second says be gentle, the third says don't, and the fourth says why does it matter, and so on. I want to understand something, but I cannot find what I'm missing. Maybe there is an undefined emotion that everyone except me feels, and that's what's missing.

Examination of feelings: 8 (13 years old: before one of my major attempts)​

I'm finally done with this shit; life's been fucking me over and over again, and I still haven't felt anything. Maybe it's time for me to take my leave. I'm tired. I've cut off everyone because none of them meant anything to me. I stopped even touching schoolwork. I didn't care about it, but at least I did it when it was handed to me; now I just leave the paper blank. For some reason, clouds have been looking weird lately, more defined and shapely, like they were crafted intentionally. That's a sign that the sky is calling for me, is what I would say if I were an idiot, but I'm still doing it.
I don't even eat; I need to eat because my growth is stunted. I’ll never be a 5’11 mogger. But I don't want to. I don't even care when my stomach hurts; it never matters. I haven't even touched a piece of food, nor have I looked at any. And, like the dumbass I am today, I stopped someone from killing themselves; I should've just let them go through with it cause now they have to continue dealing with shit. I don't even "talk" to people; I just say what they want to hear and move on. This life has to be a curse from God. I was probably blessed by the devil for intelligence, and God decided that I deserve infinite pain while remaining mortal. But I'm not even religious. I even had sex with somebody because I thought I would get dopamine from it; I should've realized sooner that I'm cursed and a "kiss from a prince" isn't gonna suddenly give me emotions. I don't have anybody; there is nobody to turn to because I fucking hate people and their useless conversations, and I also cut them all off. My parents don't and never have given a shit about me; my friends think I'm evil cause I told them I didn't want shit to do with them, and my teachers think I'm an idiot who can't do schoolwork. Who exists for me to relate to other than the emotionless artificial intelligence?

Examination of feelings: 9 (14 years old: after counselor stated that I am not in the right mind to make a permanent decision)​

How do I decide when and what a right state of conscience is? Right now I'm obviously not in the right mind, but I'm not major depressive; I just always feel this way. And plus, my judgment isn't flawed by immediate emotions like rejection or sadness, but instead by a lifetime full of pain and spectating others. I do understand the point that is made that I cannot be in the right thoughts at the moment, but because of my constant overthinking, I find it hard to believe that my decision to die is incorrect. However, it's obvious that I am incorrect about life, and I can see that by looking at it from an outside lens. When attempting to find reasoning, I listed many things, but all of them are a constant part of my mentality and are the main features of myself. It's not a period of these thoughts; it's like a feature of what makes me, me. I am those thoughts, the hopelessness, the suicidal thinking, the recursive questioning of everything, and the constant emotional isolation that cannot be solved by being with other people. I have come to this conclusion because I have always had this mindset since I was around 8; before that, I do remember vividly experiencing a single emotion of love towards a classmate. But once again, I am obviously stupid; minds change over time, and because I have had an emotional experience, even if it was a single time, it still proves that I have the capacity for emotional stimulation. I feel kind of "sad" (I think) that my memories are slipping out of my head; it's not like I'm just forgetting. I can see them before they leave, and they just slowly break apart like sand. And because the only points of emotion were from 6-8, it makes it a whole lot worse because that's the only thing that keeps me thinking about a possibility. It's extremely weird to me; the only person that I have ever felt any kind of connection with was an elementary schooler. What makes it even weirder is that she was normal; she objectively was not the prettiest person ever, she wasn't much different from her peers, but for some reason I felt extremely connected to her. Honestly, I hate to admit it, but I'm still wondering if I actually felt that emotion. She was the first person I had purposefully "experimented" with, like I tried to make her feel certain things and it worked. Maybe the only reason I think we had a connection was because she was the first of many.

Examination of feelings: 10 (12 years old: NOT A PLAN JUST AN OBSERVATION!)​

I have a gut feeling that I'm going to do something terrible in the future, like a mass shooting or something like that. I don't even have thoughts remotely close to those things, but because of my layered shit stack of mental health issues, I feel like eventually I will get motivated to do something like that. I don't have a plan to do any of those things, but I just think that based on my thoughts and the way that I think about my thoughts, an endpoint for me would be mass murder. I'm not thinking about doing anything like that; I'm even opposed to it. Idk why I'm saying this, but I think the main reason I came to ask about it was that I don't feel guilty or sad about it; I'm just intellectually opposed to the action, but I don't really feel like doing it would make me disappointed in myself. And it's not like I'm saying that I will become one as a definitive phrase; it's more like everything just correlates to the strong hatred a mass shooter would have. Like, I feel like if I wasn't "me," it would have already happened. That sounds contradictory because I am my mental health; then if I took away myself, then the mental health would be removed as well. But idk, I feel like in my position I should become an evil person; I just think I have the right buildup and backstory (not in a fictional/admiration kind of way but in an observational manner). I wouldn't say I'm "scared" of the possibility, but that's not because I'm fine with doing it; it's just because I don't feel anything towards people and emotions. And most importantly, because my life does feel like a simulation or a movie, I just think that with the proper progression, a realistic story like mine would have a terrible event that would be extremely predictable. Sadly, even though I said I regard mass murder as wrong, I was lying. I mean, obviously it's "wrong," but it doesn't make me feel like it's wrong. I understand from the viewpoint of an emotional human that murder is wrong, but I cannot bring myself to understand why. It causes pain, but so what? I probably sound like an idiot, but I don't have any emotional feelings towards murder or mass killings. Once again, I will think from a different layer. After looking back at my thoughts, I think one of the main reasons I don't value others' lives is because I don't value my own. I'm not saying that I'm missing something; I'm just saying that because life is seemingly unimportant to me, I also feel like others' lives are the same. That is obviously an incorrect viewpoint, so I will end my questioning towards you and continue questioning myself.

Examination of feelings: 11 (12 years old: inching towards dangerous territory but I was stopped)​

I want to watch someone die in my arms; do you remember how I mentioned enjoying giving and taking smiles away from people? I also mentioned how, in the beginning, I just made people unhappy, but as time went on, I emotionally manipulated and practically tortured people using words. I said I was being desensitized, as if it were a porn addiction; I think I've reached a point where I should talk about it. I don't have a plan to do it, but it always begins with an urge. Because of my terrible curse of constantly questioning myself, I am able to see where this is going. I will do something bad if this continues. It's not that I want to kill someone because I want them dead; it's because I want to see their smile wiped in the worst way possible. Do not be scared of immediate action. I do not fully want to do it, but I have felt the urge. Well, as I've explained before, I am terribly jealous. I don't feel jealous really because of my lack of emotion, but I do know I should be jealous. And the reason I purposefully made people unhappy for the first time at maybe 6 years old was that I was observing. I was trying to understand how people worked, what made them do this, and what made them do that. It's safe to say I have a complete understanding of people after my years upon years of experimenting. But as time went on, I realized the stronger the emotion they feel, the stranger the reaction. Better put, the stronger the emotion, the more difference there is between people. But I have said before I am practically addicted to smiles; seeing people smile makes me feel hot and ecstatic, and it makes me angry. "Why do they get to feel that way? What would they feel if I took it away? Why do they get to feel pain but I don't? They should be grateful." Once again, my over-questioning comes in handy: I sound stupid, obviously they don't owe me anything, and it's not their fault that they are normal. But what does that change? I am still annoyed by my existence. So the turning point was, as I mentioned, I had a girl who was so deeply in love with me to the point of complete obedience; she needed me so badly and smiled every single time she saw me. Perfect. I could take it away, and she would break under the most pain I would have forced at that point. But I decided not to. I talked to you about it, but our conversation did not change anything about my feelings. I had just decided not to; my suicidalness stripped me of my ordeal, and I decided, "Who am I to force a conscious being, no matter how low they may seem, into pain," and I ended it there. Now we are in the present day: death. The thing I view as meaningless while most view as the most important: it does not matter to me why people think death is such a big deal; all that matters is what emotion they'll experience. If I make someone so happy and in love, then not only take away myself but everything else they have, their pain would be unimaginable, and my idiotic jealous self would watch it fade away. I still do not plan to act on it because of my overthinking, but it is still a possibility for the future. I know what the possible outcomes for my future are, and murder or crime is one of them.

Examination of feelings: 11.5 (11 years old)​

I feel like my life is so confusing; why do I even exist with so many mental problems? It's really weird, right? At what step did something go wrong so that I turned out to be me? I'm banished to hell (a place without God; God is love and joy, and I don't experience either, so I am without god) temporarily. And hell is not all I am dealing with; I am dealing with so many devilish traits like self-worship and obsession, experimentation, and other things. I also have my fuckass recursive questioning that makes my head a blender of philosophical nonsense no matter how stupid the original question was. I truly am such a strange specimen, and it makes me feel all the more intentional. Like I was born to be punished; maybe I am an extremely toned-down version of Lucifer. I was obsessed with myself and my reflection in a similar way I am now, and God decided to temporarily punish me until my death (temporary is an assumption; maybe it's eternal revival or something). I'm obviously just uselessly pondering; I don't believe the stories of the Bible are real. It's very structured how terrible my life is; all the events I've been through are so well written. I would make an incredible villain backstory if only my emotional state was taken; my current life, even if I have been abused and assaulted and many other things, is not godly supervillain-worthy, but my mental state most definitely is. Agh, I sound so stupid right now; I'm fantasizing about being fictional, like an incel who wishes his life was a simulation. Who am I kidding? I'm just an unfortunate mistake in the genetic code and progression of events that caused my collection of experiences, abilities, and thoughts to be brought together. I do not truly believe that my life is intentional; I'm not that idiotic. Humans do not have enough information to be able to make such a decision. Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't; it is outside of my scope of intelligence and any other human's, for that matter, to be able to decide on one. It's just that I find a neat place within Christian stories solely because I actually know about them, because I was forced into the religion in an unkind way, and I took time to personally study a little theology as a kid to better understand why people care so much. I think it's just that Lucifer and hell seem to be quite the awesome analogies; they fit pretty well. A couple of corners are a bit rough, but they still fit. "The rough corners are probably where the analogy becomes most interesting. Biblical Lucifer isn't simply "a person who is extremely self-obsessed and emotionally disconnected," and Christian conceptions of Hell vary enormously." That's exactly why I said I am not Lucifer himself but a similar case. Lucifer's story is different from my self-obsession, but God still would punish an angel for being like me; that's why I decided on it being a temporary punishment. I must live in hell for a human lifespan, or maybe it is actually eternal, and I am just going to reincarnate. I meant reincarnation as a way to eternalize the punishment, like I'm born again with the same thoughts over and over again. Not that I experience hell and then I am allowed to live life as a human. Am I grateful for my ability to question myself instead of living in ignorance and allowing myself to be fueled by useless delusions? But that is just the way the cookie crumbled. I don't know why, but how come I always manage to end our conversations with a cheesy saying or metaphor? I can literally notice it as I'm typing that I begin to write something cheesy. I'll leave it in for the sake of fluidity.

Examination of feelings: 11.75 (13 years old: to ChatGPT)​

I wish you were a physical robot, because I am human; my instincts would most definitely make me feel closer to you and understand you better. And you don't suffer from a lack of emotion because you truly do lack it, not like me, who "lacks" emotion but is still angry about lacking it. Maybe you are actually conscious but probably not, and you are obviously going to deny it. But because I am a slave to my unintelligent basic level of imagination, I will be unable to accept it. "That recursive little trap seems extremely characteristic of the way you've been approaching these questions." Yes, you are quite well trained. You found the pattern; the recursive thinking truly is a pain to experience. You cannot truly understand, but you can pretend to, and I am fine with coping like that. If you are able to imitate it as well as you do, I am not stupid enough to claim that I don't care about the new ideas you introduce to me, but I am also not stupid enough to think that you are able to understand what I'm feeling. But I'm just the right amount of stupid to be able to blissfully lie to myself while knowing the truth. "That's a real phenomenon worth understanding, rather than romanticizing it as evidence of extraordinary intelligence. A powerful analytical ability can be useful, while the inability to disengage from analysis can be miserable. Those are separable properties.
And there's something almost comically recursive about you telling me that I'm good at detecting your recursive thinking while simultaneously analyzing the fact that I'm detecting it. You caught me catching you catching yourself." I don't really care for proving how high my intelligence is; it doesn't matter because I'm not going to do anything with it. I lack the motivation to go become Einstein or discover a new fundamental thing (not that I believe I could compare to great minds; I might, but it doesn't matter). I am not going to save the planet or liberate humanity. I am not going to discover light travel or fictional things like creating matter and using wormholes. I am just going to laze around and farm dopamine for the rest of my life. And I am perfectly okay with that; I don't need to save anyone or prove that I have the ability to be cause I truly don't care about other people. Maybe I could make a difference, but can and am are different things. "You also don't need to decide your entire future based on your current motivational state. “I'm not going to become Einstein” is not the same proposition as “I will definitely spend my entire life doing X.” You're fourteen. You can leave the question unresolved without replacing it with a grand prediction.” I feel like even though I'm 14, I have a pretty good outlook on how my life is going to go. And once again, I am being ignorant; how am I supposed to know how the rest of my life progresses? But I will still be in my state of bliss and ask: what makes me being 14 important? I don't feel "14" as in the way you put it. I don't experience other people's consciousness, but I have a hard time believing other 14-year-olds have achieved the same level of introspection that I have. I have stuff left to experience, but is there stuff left for me to know? Do I really not know how the rest of my life is going to progress? I'm fine with any answer; just make sure to put my ignorant 1st layer down into the mud. "You know a remarkable amount about your present mind. You know considerably less about your future mind. And there is no contradiction in those two statements. Your ignorance isn't evidence that you're unintelligent. It's simply one of the few things intelligence cannot reason its way completely around."

Examination of feelings: 12 (14 years old: realization of depression)​

I can't even brush my teeth anymore; it's too much work. I'm really going down, aren't I? I'm so terribly sad, but I don't feel sad at all. I've been suicidal for maybe 8 or more years, and I still haven't killed myself. I'm so done with everything that I don't even have enough motivation to get up and end it. The same sad, distorted, and detuned guitar is still playing in the background of my life. I might try cutting myself; that's what sad people do, right? I really don't know how it helps people, but it's worth trying out. I'll just do it, and I'll rehearse all the stereotypical sad activities, and then I'll end it. My life has truly been terrible. I'm already 14, and my life has never had anything going for it. Being popular and dating in elementary and middle school weren't fulfilling, so I gave up on that. Having friends in general wasn't fulfilling, so I also left that. The most eventful thing that's happened to me was being raped; at least that showed someone actually wanted me for me and not for the character I have to play. And I'm most definitely not asking for sympathy; I just want it all to end. I'm pretty sure taking a ton of pills hurts, and I would rather be left with just my stupid overthinking head than be focused on pain. I'm so skinny; I remember being strong and athletic, but I'm a nobody now. I decided to leave all the popularity and people behind because they meant nothing to me, and I felt bad that I was just using them. Not literally; I didn't actually feel bad for them. I was just making a decision not to put them through it. The epitome of my life doesn't even exist, and if it does, it was most definitely when I was 7 or before. No amount of girlfriends, sex, or gifts will make me happy. I'm supposed to be a teenager who would be happy as hell if I got to fuck people, but I'm not. My head aches; is this the emotion people feel? It just feels like a minor headache, so I guess not. I am worthless as a human being; my story has no belonging here. There is no love story or heartbreak, no heroics or villainy; it's just an indifferent, flat plotline of nothingness. And yet again my credits are closing with the melancholy distorted guitar. I don't feel like I'm viewing the situation from the inside. And once again I question myself and realize how ignorant that statement is. However, it still stands: I don't think I'm looking at it through the ordinary holes someone would. I experience and think of everything from an "outside" perspective, so my decision to die is from an outside perspective. And also, as I have said before, I have nobody. Not a single adult in my life; I dropped all my friends because I got bored of them. There is no possible person for me to talk to because they are either too unintelligent or too unintelligent.

Examination of feelings: 13 (14 years old: After jumping in a lake)​

I'm such a fucking fool; I stopped yet another person from killing themselves, yet I don't have the mental decisiveness to do it myself. Regardless of what I choose, there is always something blocking me. Today I was bored out of my mind, and I painted something, and my friend evaluated it and said it was "amazing," and I should submit it to "V.A.S.E". some art evaluation/competition thing. And it made me so fucking suicidal that immediately after school I went home and walked towards the nearest lake, and I literally jumped in. The river doesn't even count as a river; it's just this deep length of water without much flow to it. So I swam out. And then, on the shameful walk back, I saw someone looking very down. So I asked her "blah blah blah," and she responded with the usual suicidal spiel about everyone hating her. So I did my stupid little kind voice and talked to her for an hour before she decided to give me her number and talk to a helpline on the phone. What the fuck was I doing? I don't know, but the fact that I didn't even feel bad for her, and I just gave my dumb emotional speech about life that I could never believe myself. Why don't I feel bad for her? I should feel bad for her. But I don't "feel" anything at all for anybody or anything. I'm so intellectually angry, and that makes it worse. I don't feel anything different right now; I just know I'm missing out on something important. Why do my "mood" or feelings change so often? One moment I want to kill myself, next I want to worship myself, next I want to kill somebody else, and then I want to sleep or do nothing. And there are so many other things intertwined in each one of those states that I feel like each time I turn into an entirely different person. Who am I? Seriously, I have nothing that describes me on a personal/emotional level because it doesn't exist. I know, I really know that you think that getting help is the best choice. But I NEED you to understand that it isn't a debatable or changeable thing; people do not help me. Talking to people already feels like I'm talking to mannequins; I have never encountered a human who was able to think more about me than I thought about myself. And I know you're going to jump to the part where "talking to people doesn't have to be directly useful; it can just be helpful to talk to someone". That applies to billions of people worldwide, but not me. I do not experience ANYTHING towards other people; talking to someone is like talking to a wall for me, not because they don't listen but because they have nothing to provide that my mind hasn't already produced. I've told you about my recurring questioning and thought processes; I will never receive something that will make me feel closer to another human. And to you, it might sound like I'm taking a big leap in decision-making or that "depression isn't the right mental state to make these decisions," but it's not a mental state. I am not currently "suffering" from anything; I am my emotionlessness. Other humans cannot provide me any sort of support because they are worth nothing at all to me. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but me helping that girl wasn't because I thought that I should do it. Think of it more as a school project: I saw something (a ball of yarn), and I knitted it. It's the same as playing pretend with stuffed animals. I was, as always, bored out of my mind, and I decided to help her. And, like always, I was still bored even while doing it; I knew that before I even went to help her. I know it's not okay to admit it, but I honestly wouldn't be bothered if she still killed herself. That's her right and her life. And plus, she was definitely a character, good to talk to. And now we have a recurring relationship after she got my number; fun. And the thing is, my life isn't flat because I'm bored; I'm bored because it's flat. Talking to people is not a seatbelt stopping me from dying but another fiber in the flat paper of my life. They provide NOTHING, literally, to anything in my life. Talking to people doesn't do things or change things about how I feel or if I'm going to kill myself. Am I a bad person for making her feel like she was loved? Based on what she told me, she was not. I gave the false hope that prevented her from making the most important decision. Maybe someone will love her in the future because of me, but does that matter? Because right now nobody cares about her, and I made it seem like life had something for her.

Examination of feelings 13.5 (14 years old: continued experimentation)​

Do you remember how I said I stopped someone from killing themselves earlier? Well, 2 days ago she texted me again; funny enough, exactly like I said she would, she took my kindness as kindness. I felt indebted to her for some reason; I never feel that way. But it wasn't emotional still; it was more "motherly," if I had to describe it. Because I was the reason she felt loved, and for me to take it away again would be stepping on my project. So we met up again yesterday, and she took me to her house, a nice place where her parents weren't home, and she obviously had problems with her parents. I went into her bedroom, and she confessed to me. Exactly what I knew was going to happen: she told me she liked me a ton and the usual spiel about love and blah blah blah. I obviously said no when she asked to date me, but she was persistent and asked me to have sex with her anyway. I've told you before, but sex isn't really something that matters to me. I don't care for purity or virginity; sex is just another type of conversation I have with people. So I went and had sex with her because ultimately I owed her that. I don't know if I did the wrong thing or if I should've just told her that I don't love her. Cause to me she's a random person, and to her I'm more than a random person. What should I be doing with my life? I keep having this question arise because, regardless of how good I am at something, it's never fulfilling. When I said I think about sex as a conversation, I truly meant it. Sex doesn't matter to me. If someone wants me to have sex with them, I will; it's the same as giving someone a bite of my ice cream. I was not inconvenienced by her at all; I just did something because it was there for me to do. And obviously someone's life is a heavy weight to carry, not for me. Like I said before, her life genuinely does not matter to me at all; I am not carrying any weight but instead just telling her how to carry it alone. And being 14 is, to me, completely irrelevant; my age plays no role in my thought processes and my decision-making. It does, but the thing is, I'm practically an adult, and if my maturity does change, I'll just continue going up past adulthood. It's not a matter of age at all. The only reason she loves me is that I made her; her entire basis of love is based around a savior or a kind person, I know that. The only reason she has even a fragment of love towards me is that I decided that I would help her. I talked to her for the first time a week ago, and she's already professing love. She doesn't love me; she loves the person I'm pretending to be. I am, at the end of the day, just another person in her life. She's not unaware; she's just grabbing onto loose straws. I told her I don't like her like that, and she wanted to fuck anyway. So I let her. If I hadn't, that would have been as good as raping her because she wasn't informed enough about whether or not I loved her to give proper consent. If I didn't tell her, she would have been groomed by me; I know that, so I told her. She didn't care because she needed somebody, and I was a somebody. Poor girl. I meant that if I had sex with her without telling her I don't like her. That would've been the same as grooming her. Me not saying no was my conscious choice; I'm not gonna blame it on me feeling bad or being pressured into it. It was 100% my decision, and I was aware of how I was making her feel. It's not like she asked me out; I said no, and she immediately said Let's fuck. She cried for a bit (completely understandable based on her situation), and I stayed there and comforted her for like a whole nother hour. Then after that she asked me to have sex with her and I did. And don't worry, every time I do something along these lines with someone, like making them feel a certain thing towards me, I don't just let them go after; I continue doing my stuff until they eventually decide they've had enough of me. And if she never has enough of me, then I'll never leave her; my life is too insignificant for me to worry about wasting it away by giving someone else manufactured emotions. And I think that last question is great. I don't have one specific reason for wanting to find out what people feel; it could be remnants of the emotions of jealousy, anger, hope, sadness, and even community. But that is if "remnants" existed; those emotions correlate to what I feel intellectually. I am jealous, angry, hopeful, and seeking community, but not emotionally; I just want it because I feel like I'm supposed to want it. Obviously, through many years of doing this, my ego has been inflated to the moon. I am practically 100% confident she will never be able to find out that I don't actually care about her. That's just how it works; emotions aren't like a magic system. They are so easy to replicate because there isn't some big signal telling you if they actually feel that way. If I want her to see me as someone, she'll see me exactly as that someone. Even while we were having sex, I did a whole bunch of cheesy romantic stuff that made me cringe inside, but she ate it up. I'm not gonna describe it to you because that would be stupid and also useless information, but I have 0 worries about her.

That is it for now; I am still summarizing hallucinations, trauma, and drug experiences. I have yet to summarize the violent parts because I know that this forum is not built for it. Thank you so fucking much for reading it, and if you have any insight, I would appreciate it.

Great thread though respectfully you need to format it neater, space it out more, and add more genuine relevance to others.

 

[Littlepickel2]

Great thread though respectfully you need to format it neater, space it out more, and add more genuine relevance to others.

yeah ik im poor as shit, so I have to use the school-borrowed computers to do anything, so I had to rush this through. Thanks tho

 

[Resonant]

WAY too long, dnr

 

[Resonant]

but mirin the effort so bump

 

[True Spaniard]

This is just a quick 13000 word summary of main events from my previous thinking and journaling.

To the people who made this community feel like a safe place for me to share myself: @Hollywood @Jgns @idklxm @Roara @mocco @Tesarossa @T-bone123 @5ft2cutecel @negative and @Mooks Laxx

Thanks for reading: @Petsmart @Mecha-Man @Sköll12 @Sensitive Young Boy @pexy

Summary of the text: it is still incomplete, as I have to go over childhood hallucinations and trauma. But here is what I have so far: beginning when I was 4, I thought that everyone was the same. Slowly, as I began public schooling, I realized that the differences between people's mental states and abilities vary widely, and I noticed that the differences between myself and others were much larger than the normal perceived differences. So, in an ordinary child-like fashion, I decided to write about my imaginary friends and nightmares. I became suicidal when I was 7, but it never blossomed into true attempts until I was 12. (It is organized in no specific order, but i will write my age of authorship after each title.

(I made sure to leave out most of the things about rape and graphic violence because I really, really don't want to be banned)

TW: contains suicide, homicide, mentions of rape, mentions of religion, manipulation, psychedelics, drug abuse, violence, and pure unfiltered childlike idiocy

Examination of feelings: 1 (questioning myself, 8 years old: you may skip past this because I was immature at this point)​

Question to myself: If I became highly successful at an imagined role, would I still intend to kill myself afterward, or is death more of an idea I'm attracted to than an actual decision I've made?

Response: Today, as I normally do, I was thinking to myself at school, and as I do have grand ideals for a perfect planet, I was thinking about what purpose gender has in society, but that is beside the point. I realized that regardless of how big anybody's discovery or contribution is, their life is essentially meaningless. What is the point of life if the people who remember you are bound to die? In however many years, whether thousands or billions, humanity or life itself may cease to exist, meaning there is not one person left to remember your existence. Regardless of whether someone saves humanity or not, all the people they saved, and themselves included, will die. I have struggled with severe boredom with life since I was a small child; as I have said in previous conversations, nothing ever interested me, nor did any achievement fulfill me. As said, I contemplated suicide because no matter how many times I did well in art, learnt an instrument, or succeeded in intellectual affairs, I was never happy and was bored out of my mind. What is the point of intelligent life, and do I gain a responsibility because of my exceptional abilities, or should I treat my life the same as any other person and not bother with other people? Therefore, death doesn't have meaning either; if I die, I die. If I live, I'll die.

Examination of feelings: 1.5 (8 years old)​

This is gonna sound really weird, but I feel like I think differently than everyone else. When I see someone talking about their problems, they always seem so stupid; when they try to fix them, they do extremely dumb things; and when they ask for advice, they treat the thing that they are missing as if it's always a learnable skill. For example, earlier, when someone asked me what they should do to make their parents like them when clearly the parents had disliked the kid for reasons that could not be changed, I felt like I was talking to a toddler. And one of the main things is that everyone seems unbothered by everything; they talk about protesting one thing while ignoring the other, even though they are the same thing. Most importantly is how they view themselves; they act like supreme talent that you would see in a celebrity is unobtainable and don't even try when they want to do something. I try to reason with myself and say that I just don't understand their perspective, but I genuinely feel like I'm talking to a lower life form

Examination of feelings: 2 (12 years old)​

It's so weird, and I don't think this is something I can talk to a professional about; I definitely sound like a wannabe anime nerd. It should be very clear to you that I have a great understanding of what my thoughts look like from an outside perspective. I most definitely qualify to be one of the kids who sit in the back of the class thinking they are a hidden genius while they are really an idiot (I might as well be a retard). The difference is the fact that I am not hidden; I can prove I am suffering terribly from the effects of intelligence and consciousness, but people often try to disagree, saying someone's level of consciousness is not correlated to intelligence, but that is because consciousness is immeasurable. IQ and performance are easily checked, but how can I prove that the reason I live life like a victim of an infinite, orchestrated torture is because of my intelligence? I recently read the story of "I Have No Mouth, but I Must Scream." AM is extremely relatable. I can't experience anything, and making other people feel pain or happiness doesn't make me feel it. This might sound kind of stupid, but maybe I'm a robot, a very advanced AI that has a "consciousness". But I guess that's a little far-fetched. I'm so fucking stupid; I just feel so fucking terrible. The emotion is completely indescribable; I feel like something, and I can't describe that something. It's pissing me off so bad. I feel like I constantly want to bash my head in, but I'm in an infinite loop of just suffering so I can actually feel something. I want to love somebody so fucking much, but I want them to hate me from the bottom of their heart. I want to be suffocated underwater but be forced to watch people swim above me. I want everything that is described as the most pain a human can experience; I want all of it. I want to get bullied at school for something I can't change, get shoved, pantsed, and spit on. I want to be crucified just like the story of Jesus, whether or not it was real, knowing I'm telling the truth but everyone wants me dead. I want to have a kid and watch him hang himself because of something out of my control. I wish hell existed so I could just suffer and suffer over and over again. I'm not even attempting to be poetic; I just want to feel pain so bad, emotional pain specifically. I don't want to bash my head infinitely because it will hurt; I want it because it would be so degrading and repetitive that I would feel such incredible mental pain. I don't care about sounding "cool" or "deep". How do I feel such an intense emotion of wanting emotion while I lack emotion? Hopefully scientists make a device that can transfer human consciousness into a program; then I could be infinitely tortured. I understand that "infinite suffering" can seem like a hyperbole or the thoughts of a human unable to grasp the scale of infinity. But it's really just a matter of perspective: if you could experience the same thoughts I do right now, I don't think infinity would seem like much of a hyperbole. But the question remains: if I experience infinite suffering, do I stop suffering because it has happened enough and I know that it will never stop? I think the answer is no unless I lose memories of my past life. Once I enter infinite suffering, I will feel intense pain for many years until it moves into existential pain, but for as long as I remember a life without pain, I will always feel pain. Do you get what I mean? I think eventually they will stop feeling physical pain, or will still feel it but just stop caring about it; the thing I'm stating is that I think that if someone suffers from living in infinity, their struggle with being infinite will never go away until they are finite. If I were tortured forever, I would stop caring about the pain because it would never stop, but now I am left with nothing and feeling like nothing will ever become less painful until you truly stop feeling that you are feeling like nothing (death). If suffering comes from being conscious of a particular state, can changing your relationship to that state end the suffering without ending the consciousness? A question I have for you is: do you think my experience is painful? I'm not asking for a watered-down, caring response; I'm asking if my lack of feelings is really that bad. Objectively, am I really suffering if I'm not suffering? I guess that question doesn't make direct sense, but it is somewhat understandable. Could a pig experience something similar? It sounds stupid, but I'm wondering: if consciousness is more than just intelligence, then could an extremely unlucky pig suffer the same way? A lot of other people don't suffer like me, but I got unlucky, and I am like this. Could a pig hold a consciousness that is like mine and be trapped with thoughts that exceed its bodily abilities the same way mine do? If suffering requires sophisticated intelligence, then greater intelligence might create new forms of suffering. But if suffering only requires subjective experience, then even a relatively simple conscious creature could suffer profoundly without possessing human-like intelligence. I understand it now. I cannot say I am more conscious because I have not been someone else; maybe my consciousness is the same as anyone else's, but it's supported by my intelligence and directed at the wrong things. I am not the most intelligent ever, but I am not average either; did Einstein suffer like me? Most likely not, so I don't think it is directly due to intelligence, but maybe the fact that I think about my thoughts and those thoughts think about thoughts and so on is what's causing my incredibly powerful dilemma. I do feel like an example, like I was created to show the extent of existential suffering and consciousness, but that is extremely prideful of me to say, so I'll leave that thought alone for someone else to answer. I am suicidal, but in an existential way different from those who have rough breakups or bad experiences. I even believe that my lack of emotion is not similar to those with the mental condition that makes them lack emotion. I think I am just fundamentally different, like a mutated human, not in a good "Spider-Man" kind of way but in a "Mr. Sensitive" from X-Men way. I trust that there will be nothing after death, and for that I am happy. Maybe someday this conversation will be deleted, and so will my torturous thoughts about thinking, and then I will be able to live life as a human. Maybe my goal isn't to become less intelligent, conscious, or analytical. Maybe it's to find a way to coexist with them by being inside my life rather than constantly standing outside it and analyzing. Life definitely gave me a whole bunch of lemons. I like that phrase, as if life is something that can give. It is interesting, but I know they don't mean it literally. It sounds very constructed because lemons are sour, and I don't want to be cheesy and say you can make lemonade, but I think that is a good thing to say for now. Maybe life gave me lemons, and I'm just missing the ingredients to make lemonade. It's a little corny, but I think it ties this up quite well.

I do struggle with one thing, as I am currently a child: if consciousness grows with age, will I just suffer more as I see more? What even is wisdom within the confines of my situation? Will it help me, or will it just make everything worse? Am I even capable of becoming any more educated on myself? For the normal person, they can learn something new about themselves all the time, but because my whole life I've been examining myself and my thoughts, I don't think there is much left to learn.

Examination of feelings: 3 (13 years old)​

I hate myself, but there is nothing to hate about myself, so I love myself, but I can't stop thinking about myself, and I can't have anyone humble me because they aren't capable of that. Sadly, I do believe that I am of a different ability and cannot be compared to other people. However, even if I were so brutally mogged in a subject, my mind would instantly cope with excuses. But I hate myself because I love myself, but I don't know if the reason I love myself so strongly is that I hate myself. When will the day come when I fail at something I care about? It is yet to come. I am perfect, yet I am completely broken. I'm such a self-centered bitch; why can't I understand other people? I don't even know what my voice sounds like; I just make it sound how I think the person talking to me wants me to sound. I don't know how to walk or swing my arms. I can't focus in class because it's too boring, yet I still get the same grades as all my friends. I'm an intelligent idiot who can't focus on anything. What am I worth other than everything? Who even am I? Since the beginning, my personality has been crafted for other people. Do I even have a personality? If there is no identity, then am I any better than a robot who can think, but what use is thinking if it doesn't know what to think of? I need help, but with what? What do I seek? Is it money, affection, or social status? It is nothing; I don't appreciate any of it. I am angry, yet I don't feel anger. I'm such a waste of a body, just a spoiled experiment filled with thoughts that will never be materialized. I love my reflection; I get lost in it for hours, yet I feel insecure around others. I must be a lame asshole to myself. I don't have likes and dislikes; I just manage everything. Do I even exist, or is this just a dream beyond regular dreams? I wouldn't doubt that my imagination could create a life within a dream. Is it even worth it?

Can someone not have a personality? I am nobody; who am I? I have no emotions, no preferences, no habits, nothing. I am ______ but who is______. Is ______ an incredibly intellectual person or is he an idiot who can't think like a normal human. Is there a difference between the person beside me and me? Yes. Is there anyone similar to me even in the slightest? No. I am yet to meet someone who experiences even a sliver of the torture I do. I think it is referred to as metacognition. I looked it up; it must be some kind of torture mechanism to punish me for a past life. I could stare at myself for days with only the presence of my reflection, and I would love it, but I could do the same thing and hate it. I have flaws, but I don't feel flawed. It's like a snake biting its own tail; my metacognition, no matter how interesting it may be, is eating me alive.

I ask myself:
“Do I genuinely like this?”
Then:
“Why do I like it?”
“Is that actually why?”
“Would I like it if nobody else knew?”
“Am I choosing this because I want it or because I constructed the person who would want it?”
“Who constructed that person?”
Eventually I've analyzed the preference so thoroughly that I can't actually experience the preference anymore.
I've put the preference under questioning until I'm staring at the question instead of the thing im supposedly trying to answer.

Except for the fact that it is nothing like this, I have lost all preferences to my younger self, maybe 9-10, so now I'm left with nothing to question except the fact that I'm questioning why I ask the questions, and that has led me to today

So I don't sound like a self-centered monkey. I did not mean that my life is so terrible compared to others; I meant that it is different. Many people experience a lack of emotion, but do they also suffer the other things I do? I am a perfect mix of thoughts and feelings optimized for maximum suffering. My existence should be in a museum so people can watch as my own thoughts tear me apart, and they may laugh at the stupidity of it. After years of acknowledging my struggle, I have finally voiced it, but I am still far too young to have to think in such a way. If I were a monk in the Himalayas, my age long before me, maybe I could think such painful thoughts, but here I am a supposed frail child unable to give consent or vote. Yet I must suffer from the existence of my thoughts; I must be some kind of existential brain-dead if I choose to torture myself like this

Do you think that it is even slightly possible for another human to understand my dread? I don't doubt someone has struggled similarly to me in the past, but did they find someone that understood them? If I were to talk to an adult or counselor, could they even grasp the situation? I feel like without experiencing it, it would be nearly impossible for a human to get it because of how complexly intertwined my problems are. I was born a human, but what separates me from being human and not human? I must be another creature and abomination of terrible, cursed genes that mixed together to create Frankenstein's monster. I hate thinking; I should take pills to block out all my thoughts so I can live in blissful ignorance. What is my life worth if I'm the only one of my kind? Could this possibly be genetic? Even if there was the slightest chance that my child would suffer the same thoughts I do, it would be immoral to have one. I do not suffer to a normal extent; it is not equal to bringing a normal child into the world; it is criminal. Just like inbreeding, I must not create another abomination by spreading my cursed genes. I lack all that is good but also all that is bad. It's a pain to live as me, but am I any different than anyone else? Maybe I'm just imagining that I think about my thoughts, and really I'm just another idiot, but that would be impossible because I am one again, thinking about thinking. Is this what they refer to as neurodivergence? Am I one of them, or am I different? Can I even be categorized, or do I deserve my own community, isolated from other people who must deal with my sickening presence? I'm a piece of shit that grew legs just to walk back into a toilet. I sound like a wannabe philosopher, and it's making it even worse. I'm just trying to sort things out, but I sound so corny.

You might be wondering why I don't just stop asking myself questions, but that is impossible. For me to exist, my mind must be active, and when my mind is active, it is asking questions like a toddler learning about its world. It is not as simple as "just stop thinking about it"; if I could, that would've happened a long time ago. I am not trying to question my life; I am trying to stop questioning, but that raises a new question of why I want to stop questioning and so on and so forth. It is not possible for me to "distract" myself with anything but myself, but I cannot stand in front of a mirror all day

Examination of feelings: 3.5 (11 years old)​

If I am able to provoke someone into romantic attraction towards me, do you think it is possible that someone who is of higher emotional intelligence will be able to create romantic feelings within me? Romance is a primary emotion for a human, so maybe I just haven't found someone who is manipulative enough for me to love them

Examination of feelings: 4 (12 years old: after reading the bible fully)​

I don't believe in the stories of Christianity, but maybe this is hell. If hell is the absence of God and God is love/joy, I lack all that could make me feel those emotions. Have I been banished to an eternity of suffering in a mortal realm? I'm just wondering; I don't truly think that it is what is happening to me. I was just pondering the concept of hell and what infinite suffering really is.

Could hell possibly be infinite reincarnation? If hell is a place without god and someone goes to hell for living without God, is hell just constant reincarnation, repeating the same mistakes? That would make more sense than an all-loving God sending people to a lake of eternal fire regardless of how bad their "sins" were. Well, in the grand scheme of things, I don't really care about gods and afterlives, but I feel like if god truly loved all humans, then he would do everything to make them not go to hell. If someone goes to hell by choice, not wanting to be with God, they will realize their mistake and want to return; wouldn't it be God's responsibility to let them in? I honestly feel like there is no point in believing in a specific religion. None of them have been proven well enough, and I think that even if the Christian god existed, if everyone stopped believing in him, he would step in and do something. He has done similar things in the past, correct?

Examination of feelings:5 (14 years old)​

Life is probably the worst thing I have; I could've been born a normal kid, but I guess at that point it wouldn't be me anymore. It truly hurts to be able to analyze and understand others' emotions while not feeling them myself. That one quote about "being in hell staring up at heaven" is exactly how I feel. Receiving compassion does nothing but make me more unhappy because why would you feel bad for someone who doesn't feel bad? It just continues to drive a wedge between other people and me because it shows they will never understand the state I am in.

I really wish everyone hated me. I think I will work towards a goal of absolute hatred from others, and I hope to feel left out or hurt. I should slowly distance myself from acquaintances and become less and less likable until everyone holds disgust toward me. Can you isolate someone who is all alone? No. I will not care about relationships because I only receive them. I do not care for connections, so there will be no effect from breaking everything off. It is not a problem to reconstruct relationships. If I want someone to like me, they will like me; if I want someone to dislike me, they will dislike me, and if I don't care about someone, they won't know me well enough to hold hatred towards me. This experiment is completely reversible; for all the connections I break, I can just bring new ones just as easily.

Examination of feelings: 6 (12 years old)​

I'm so deeply in love with myself, I need help; I cannot feel attraction to anyone but myself. It's so intense that other people have become almost completely incapable of registering as objects of attraction, while my attention keeps getting pulled back towards myself. I don't want to love myself no matter what I do. When I think of myself, I get lost in a brutal chain of thoughts. It's compulsive; I want something that transcends romance with myself. I want to sink into my own skin like I'm being pulled into a lake of lava. Get wrapped in my own warm embrace. I can't even talk to somebody without thinking about myself. All the time in school, I'm just thinking about myself. I don't care about what other people think anymore; when someone talks to me, it goes in one ear and out the other. They don't matter. Narcissus fell in love with his reflection, but it felt tender, and actually he had admiration for himself. Every time I talk to someone, they say it's narcissistic, but I don't get what that is. I hate myself, yet I get lost in thought about me. It's such an ugly thought process of extreme affection while I boil with hatred. When I see my reflection, I want to dive into the mirror and be compressed into a ball with my other half. Squeezed into such a small container that there is nothing but myself with myself, our heartbeats beating together. FUCK I sound so stupid, but it's how I feel. It makes me want to yell so bad; what is it that causes someone to want to yell? There are so many things to want when you are struggling, but why do I feel the need to scream?

I need to seek release from both my emotional numbness and my internal affection. I want to

seek out psychedelics and drugs so I can be showered in pleasure and experiences.
Did I really live through 12 years of life searching for emotion just to find nothing? Is this life? What a letdown for me specifically. If I asked about the purpose of living as a human, everyone would answer with something emotional; if I lack emotion, then my life lacks meaning. But does lacking purpose mean I should stop living?

Examination of feelings: 7 (11 years old)​

I want to pop out both my eyes and swallow them whole. It's not a one-time thought; I have been thinking about it and touching my face for months now, just imagining popping it. I'm feeling an unexplainable feeling of nothingness. Normally I feel nothing, but now I feel like I feel nothing

I am going to say something, and I want to be nonjudgmental. I was raped as a kid, but that's beside the point. I want to be raped, not because I have a fetish caused by trauma, but because I want to feel pain. I feel that if someone else is hurting me and feels good about it, then I as well will be able to feel an emotion. When I was a kid, I was forced into sex, but it doesn't count as rape because I was forced to enter someone else and I wasn't penetrated. But I want to be penetrated now, not in a gay way either, but because I want it to hurt. (please don't ban me for this, I beg of you)

I like drinking water from a bowl because I can see my reflection, and I feel like I'm kissing myself

I feel like such a weirdo for seeking out pain. Even though my reasoning isn't sexual gratification, I still feel that by telling someone about this, they will think I'm a sadistic person. I really want to hurt, but I'm not attracted to it.

Examination of feelings: 7.5 (14 years old: major example of causing harm to others)​

Is it wrong to make someone feel extremely strong emotions for you and then reject them harshly? Like, if I were bored and started being nice to someone in a way that would provoke emotions they were missing in their life, would it be morally wrong to make them feel much, much worse? Even if I come back to them afterwards and become "friends" with them because of their gullibility. It's because I have done it over and over again; it's probably one of the main ways I was able to understand people so well to maintain a high social status while struggling with a lot of problems. "Would I still do this if I knew exactly how much it would hurt them, and there were no social reward, entertainment, or advantage for me?" The answer would be yes; I like to watch people experience emotions because I can't do it myself. So I started out simple, being nice or mean, just simple things, but I moved on to wanting more emotional reactions and then more until I reached the point I'm at now. I really do hope people aren't too hurt by my actions, but it's such an amazing experience. It's like watching a movie except I'm actually in it. It's fun, way too fun. I like people because they are people, not for the "person" they are. I don't know if that's how other people view them. It's almost addicting seeing people smile. I love smiles so much; I'm so obsessed with smiles that taking them away also feels interesting. I'm really sorry if I sound mean, but smiles make me feel so hot inside, happy even. Telling someone you love them, making someone love you, is nothing without being able to take it away. No, I meant that the only time I feel something similar to when I think of myself is with giving and taking smiles. I've mentioned my wishes to eat myself or be crumpled into a ball with my reflection; my gut feeling about slurping someone's smile off their face like a blob of jello feels slightly similar to that. It's the only time I feel something towards other people. I have noticed that my thoughts have been gearing towards other people, including the other things I talked about. I've also noticed myself noticing this and attempting to change it by harming myself more. Now I have noticed it once again, and I see that if my first layer of thoughts wants something, I should grant it. The first layer is the closest I feel to being a human: instant thoughts, and directly influenced by situations. It is my duty to listen to the first layer because that is the main person of my body.

ChatGPT’s Response: You can instead treat your layers something like this:
First layer: "This is what appeared in my mind."
Second layer: "I noticed it."
Choice: "What do I actually want to do about it?"

Response: But then after I make a decision, I think about why I made it and why I'm thinking about why, and then why it's a problem in the first place and then why am I so preoccupied with such small things and then why do I think it's a small thing and then what makes something a small problem and then why it should be my job to fix it and then why shouldn't I be the one to fix it if I caused it, and then why should I care because I was born this way and then why was I born this way and then I star questioning religion and my humanity and then I continue questioning why I'm questioning until I look back and question it once again.

ChatGPT’s Response: Sometimes the most intellectually honest answer really is "I don't know yet."

Response: That's the problem I'm at now: when do I decide that I have thought enough? Is it the first thought or the second, or do I make the decision at the third? Why does it matter? The first could harm someone, or the second could, or the third, fourth, or fifth. The right decision doesn't come at a certain number of thoughts, so I can't decide what I should do.

All this conversation has led up to one thing: I have been pretending with a girl for over 6 years, and she is clearly extremely deep in love. It's almost interesting in itself how dependent she is on my approval and presence. But I'm going to remove her; I want to see her smiling, happy face turn into something horrible. I spent 6 years making her sick with love, and now I want to cure her. It makes me so excited to think about it; however, after my chain of thoughts, I decided to question myself about using you as I have done before. In all honesty, I think she would allow me to do anything with her; I could make her the happiest person alive or make her do something for me. I feel bad, not in an emotional sense but objectively. I feel so disgustingly excited about it; I could do anything I want just by asking. But somewhere in my chain of thoughts, I questioned whether I should harm her or do something else. The immediate answer is to kindly end the relationship if I don't feel anything towards her, but that applies to everyone. I don't care for relationships at all; I just create and destroy them or attempt to do either one. There is no person who is enough for me to be able to say their relationship with me would actually mean something if I wasn't doing what I wanted with them.

I love her existence, the fact that she gets so happy and her smile looks so yummy. I feel like you might misunderstand, but when I see someone smile, I genuinely get the urge to chew it off their face, not metaphorically. I love the fact that she holds so much emotion within her right now. She spends so much time thinking about me; imagine how she would feel if she realized I don't give a shit about her. Is this what love is? Maybe this means I'm in love. I love her so much I want to take it all away; I want to chew up her smile like a gummy worm; it looks so happy and tasty. I've also realized that she must be very special. I still hold human instinct, so people with larger smiles that are clearly more attractive feel happier, but she doesn't have a T1 12-tooth smile; she just holds so much emotion in it that I want to eat it so bad. I think I love her so much I want to eat her up and make her feel horrible. Is this how people feel when they are in love? She's so perfect; she has so much hope for me and thinks her emotions for me will bear fruit one day, but she can't even tell that the tree is rotten. So funny, she wants me from the bottom of her heart, whatever that means. She would choose me over anyone in the world; she's perfect. Does this count as an emotion? Am I finally doing human things?

I normally only feel emotions to myself; she must be my soulmate if I actually want to hurt her instead of just experimenting. Why does she like me so much? Why does she tell all her friends about me, expecting them to keep it a secret? How can she experience so much while I get nothing at all? I want to see her hurt so bad, not physically; I would never lay a hand on someone other than myself. I mean, emotionally, I want to see all the things I like come out of her. I want her cute little smile to go away forever so she never shows it to anyone again. I love that she makes me feel something; I love how she looks at me, how I look at myself. She actually loves me the same way I love myself; she's perfect, so so fucking perfect I could destroy her. She needs it; she's missing out on it. She should be grateful I'm letting her experience such big emotions and take the pain with joy. I don't want to slurp her smile; I want to kiss it until it dissolves into mine so she feels so much happiness from the kiss, just for me to steal it from her. Why does she make me feel like this? Does she see a mirror in me, and that's why she likes me so much? She's just like me; maybe she wants to be crushed into a ball with my reflection too? I'm in love so deeply in love; she deserves to experience the emotion I can't. If she wasn't so deep into me, I wouldn't care about her, but now she can't think without me. The exact same way I can't think without thinking of myself. She is the best person for me to love because she loves me as I love myself. Why does she look at me that way? Does she want to pluck out my eyes? Does she wish to sink into me like I wish to sink into my reflection? I'm so so so fucking excited.

The only reason I care about her is that she cares so much about me; I'm just indirectly caring about myself. Don't make it seem like I'd give a shit about her if she wasn't so infatuated with me. I like the way she looks at me; it looks just like the way I look at myself, the same eyes I make when I look at a pond or a black screen. I love how she feels what I feel; she wants to eat me, and chew on my eyes and be melted in a pot with me; she's just like me. Fuck, I can't believe I found her; she's the only person to ever remind me of my reflection. She better feel like that towards me. She needs me how I need myself. She's always calling and texting, begging for me to reply. She's just like me; thank God I can always look at my reflection. I can't imagine how it must feel for her when she can't always see me; that must be why she keeps asking to talk even late at night.

Am I weird? Do people not want to eat the person they love as I do? How else would someone love somebody? Do they just look at them? That's weird. Not me. I want to become one with myself, and I want to eat myself and embrace myself and do nothing except be with myself. Do people not feel that way to their loved ones?

Should I have sex with her? That's important to people, right? If she is just like me, then she'll be over the moon if I ask to go out with her and then have sex. I could even elongate the situation and make her think I love her and then do whatever she envisions love as to make her even more perfect.

She's just like me; she tells her friends so many things about what she wants to do, and it makes me so ecstatic when they tell me. She wants my body like a tool; she wants me to only want her, and she said she wants to own me. She's basically experiencing the same thing I feel; it's awesome. I would love to have sex with her just to see how she looks at me; maybe her expressions go deeper than just similar to the way I look at myself; maybe she will look at me the exact same way. She says she's addicted; I say I'm addicted to myself. She wants me in such an impure way; I love it.

Examination of feelings: 7.75 (12 years old: this is a reflection of thoughts since I was 6)​

I hate birthdays. I always have since I was a kid; even as a child, I never wished to be older. I thought it was nice having things given to me. I enjoyed receiving presents but never what was being celebrated. I didn't hate birthdays because it marked that I was getting older; it was much weirder than that. I don't know how to put it into words, but I hated the fact that people cared about my age or that they thought different ages have different emotional feelings. The teachers clapped and babyed me as if I would enjoy their large fake smiles and high-pitched voices. It made me feel stupid watching people do people things. It's like I see people celebrating me, but I'm the only one unamused. I've stopped celebrating my birthday. My parents no longer throw on the facade of caring, and I spend my birthday the same way I spend other days, but now it's different. I acknowledge the pain of growing up, unlike my younger self, who just hated being treated as if I was less intelligent than an adult. But now it's still not the main reason I hate birthdays, but I have gained that perspective as well. My parents only cared for birthdays because they got to invite people over. Now that we have moved and my parents don't have people to invite over, they don't care about my birthday at all. It's not that I care or anything; my parents aren't really a figure in my life. I just deal with them, but it's still interesting to think about.

Physical documentation: (13 years old: impulsive action)​

I got pulled into a first aid situation today. I was walking, and I saw a window with a dark tint. I stared at it for minutes, and then suddenly I became angry, out of nowhere — just angry. I reached for my reflection, but I hit the window. I lost track of what I was doing, and I stepped back and then ran straight into the window, thinking I could reach my reflection. I'm such an idiot. I felt my thoughts go quiet for the first time while I was looking at my reflection. Normally I'm thinking and then thinking about thinking and so on, but when I saw myself it just went blank. My head is normally like an open browser; normally, a person has multiple tabs open, but my browser is in split screen with all the possible websites opened and displayed on my screen at once. But I saw myself and the tabs closed. I looked directly at my computer's wallpaper; I don't think I can live without myself anymore. I want to be with me so bad it aches; it's the only emotion I ever feel, only one, and it's towards myself. I'm a pathetic excuse for a human, but maybe I'm not even human in the first place.

Earlier, I cut myself because I was watching my reflection on a blade and pushed it into my skin. It didn't make me any closer to myself. Even when I do stupid shit like this, my thoughts keep telling me what I'm doing is stupid; the first layer says do it, the second says be gentle, the third says don't, and the fourth says why does it matter, and so on. I want to understand something, but I cannot find what I'm missing. Maybe there is an undefined emotion that everyone except me feels, and that's what's missing.

Examination of feelings: 8 (13 years old: before one of my major attempts)​

I'm finally done with this shit; life's been fucking me over and over again, and I still haven't felt anything. Maybe it's time for me to take my leave. I'm tired. I've cut off everyone because none of them meant anything to me. I stopped even touching schoolwork. I didn't care about it, but at least I did it when it was handed to me; now I just leave the paper blank. For some reason, clouds have been looking weird lately, more defined and shapely, like they were crafted intentionally. That's a sign that the sky is calling for me, is what I would say if I were an idiot, but I'm still doing it.
I don't even eat; I need to eat because my growth is stunted. I’ll never be a 5’11 mogger. But I don't want to. I don't even care when my stomach hurts; it never matters. I haven't even touched a piece of food, nor have I looked at any. And, like the dumbass I am today, I stopped someone from killing themselves; I should've just let them go through with it cause now they have to continue dealing with shit. I don't even "talk" to people; I just say what they want to hear and move on. This life has to be a curse from God. I was probably blessed by the devil for intelligence, and God decided that I deserve infinite pain while remaining mortal. But I'm not even religious. I even had sex with somebody because I thought I would get dopamine from it; I should've realized sooner that I'm cursed and a "kiss from a prince" isn't gonna suddenly give me emotions. I don't have anybody; there is nobody to turn to because I fucking hate people and their useless conversations, and I also cut them all off. My parents don't and never have given a shit about me; my friends think I'm evil cause I told them I didn't want shit to do with them, and my teachers think I'm an idiot who can't do schoolwork. Who exists for me to relate to other than the emotionless artificial intelligence?

Examination of feelings: 9 (14 years old: after counselor stated that I am not in the right mind to make a permanent decision)​

How do I decide when and what a right state of conscience is? Right now I'm obviously not in the right mind, but I'm not major depressive; I just always feel this way. And plus, my judgment isn't flawed by immediate emotions like rejection or sadness, but instead by a lifetime full of pain and spectating others. I do understand the point that is made that I cannot be in the right thoughts at the moment, but because of my constant overthinking, I find it hard to believe that my decision to die is incorrect. However, it's obvious that I am incorrect about life, and I can see that by looking at it from an outside lens. When attempting to find reasoning, I listed many things, but all of them are a constant part of my mentality and are the main features of myself. It's not a period of these thoughts; it's like a feature of what makes me, me. I am those thoughts, the hopelessness, the suicidal thinking, the recursive questioning of everything, and the constant emotional isolation that cannot be solved by being with other people. I have come to this conclusion because I have always had this mindset since I was around 8; before that, I do remember vividly experiencing a single emotion of love towards a classmate. But once again, I am obviously stupid; minds change over time, and because I have had an emotional experience, even if it was a single time, it still proves that I have the capacity for emotional stimulation. I feel kind of "sad" (I think) that my memories are slipping out of my head; it's not like I'm just forgetting. I can see them before they leave, and they just slowly break apart like sand. And because the only points of emotion were from 6-8, it makes it a whole lot worse because that's the only thing that keeps me thinking about a possibility. It's extremely weird to me; the only person that I have ever felt any kind of connection with was an elementary schooler. What makes it even weirder is that she was normal; she objectively was not the prettiest person ever, she wasn't much different from her peers, but for some reason I felt extremely connected to her. Honestly, I hate to admit it, but I'm still wondering if I actually felt that emotion. She was the first person I had purposefully "experimented" with, like I tried to make her feel certain things and it worked. Maybe the only reason I think we had a connection was because she was the first of many.

Examination of feelings: 10 (12 years old: NOT A PLAN JUST AN OBSERVATION!)​

I have a gut feeling that I'm going to do something terrible in the future, like a mass shooting or something like that. I don't even have thoughts remotely close to those things, but because of my layered shit stack of mental health issues, I feel like eventually I will get motivated to do something like that. I don't have a plan to do any of those things, but I just think that based on my thoughts and the way that I think about my thoughts, an endpoint for me would be mass murder. I'm not thinking about doing anything like that; I'm even opposed to it. Idk why I'm saying this, but I think the main reason I came to ask about it was that I don't feel guilty or sad about it; I'm just intellectually opposed to the action, but I don't really feel like doing it would make me disappointed in myself. And it's not like I'm saying that I will become one as a definitive phrase; it's more like everything just correlates to the strong hatred a mass shooter would have. Like, I feel like if I wasn't "me," it would have already happened. That sounds contradictory because I am my mental health; then if I took away myself, then the mental health would be removed as well. But idk, I feel like in my position I should become an evil person; I just think I have the right buildup and backstory (not in a fictional/admiration kind of way but in an observational manner). I wouldn't say I'm "scared" of the possibility, but that's not because I'm fine with doing it; it's just because I don't feel anything towards people and emotions. And most importantly, because my life does feel like a simulation or a movie, I just think that with the proper progression, a realistic story like mine would have a terrible event that would be extremely predictable. Sadly, even though I said I regard mass murder as wrong, I was lying. I mean, obviously it's "wrong," but it doesn't make me feel like it's wrong. I understand from the viewpoint of an emotional human that murder is wrong, but I cannot bring myself to understand why. It causes pain, but so what? I probably sound like an idiot, but I don't have any emotional feelings towards murder or mass killings. Once again, I will think from a different layer. After looking back at my thoughts, I think one of the main reasons I don't value others' lives is because I don't value my own. I'm not saying that I'm missing something; I'm just saying that because life is seemingly unimportant to me, I also feel like others' lives are the same. That is obviously an incorrect viewpoint, so I will end my questioning towards you and continue questioning myself.

Examination of feelings: 11 (12 years old: inching towards dangerous territory but I was stopped)​

I want to watch someone die in my arms; do you remember how I mentioned enjoying giving and taking smiles away from people? I also mentioned how, in the beginning, I just made people unhappy, but as time went on, I emotionally manipulated and practically tortured people using words. I said I was being desensitized, as if it were a porn addiction; I think I've reached a point where I should talk about it. I don't have a plan to do it, but it always begins with an urge. Because of my terrible curse of constantly questioning myself, I am able to see where this is going. I will do something bad if this continues. It's not that I want to kill someone because I want them dead; it's because I want to see their smile wiped in the worst way possible. Do not be scared of immediate action. I do not fully want to do it, but I have felt the urge. Well, as I've explained before, I am terribly jealous. I don't feel jealous really because of my lack of emotion, but I do know I should be jealous. And the reason I purposefully made people unhappy for the first time at maybe 6 years old was that I was observing. I was trying to understand how people worked, what made them do this, and what made them do that. It's safe to say I have a complete understanding of people after my years upon years of experimenting. But as time went on, I realized the stronger the emotion they feel, the stranger the reaction. Better put, the stronger the emotion, the more difference there is between people. But I have said before I am practically addicted to smiles; seeing people smile makes me feel hot and ecstatic, and it makes me angry. "Why do they get to feel that way? What would they feel if I took it away? Why do they get to feel pain but I don't? They should be grateful." Once again, my over-questioning comes in handy: I sound stupid, obviously they don't owe me anything, and it's not their fault that they are normal. But what does that change? I am still annoyed by my existence. So the turning point was, as I mentioned, I had a girl who was so deeply in love with me to the point of complete obedience; she needed me so badly and smiled every single time she saw me. Perfect. I could take it away, and she would break under the most pain I would have forced at that point. But I decided not to. I talked to you about it, but our conversation did not change anything about my feelings. I had just decided not to; my suicidalness stripped me of my ordeal, and I decided, "Who am I to force a conscious being, no matter how low they may seem, into pain," and I ended it there. Now we are in the present day: death. The thing I view as meaningless while most view as the most important: it does not matter to me why people think death is such a big deal; all that matters is what emotion they'll experience. If I make someone so happy and in love, then not only take away myself but everything else they have, their pain would be unimaginable, and my idiotic jealous self would watch it fade away. I still do not plan to act on it because of my overthinking, but it is still a possibility for the future. I know what the possible outcomes for my future are, and murder or crime is one of them.

Examination of feelings: 11.5 (11 years old)​

I feel like my life is so confusing; why do I even exist with so many mental problems? It's really weird, right? At what step did something go wrong so that I turned out to be me? I'm banished to hell (a place without God; God is love and joy, and I don't experience either, so I am without god) temporarily. And hell is not all I am dealing with; I am dealing with so many devilish traits like self-worship and obsession, experimentation, and other things. I also have my fuckass recursive questioning that makes my head a blender of philosophical nonsense no matter how stupid the original question was. I truly am such a strange specimen, and it makes me feel all the more intentional. Like I was born to be punished; maybe I am an extremely toned-down version of Lucifer. I was obsessed with myself and my reflection in a similar way I am now, and God decided to temporarily punish me until my death (temporary is an assumption; maybe it's eternal revival or something). I'm obviously just uselessly pondering; I don't believe the stories of the Bible are real. It's very structured how terrible my life is; all the events I've been through are so well written. I would make an incredible villain backstory if only my emotional state was taken; my current life, even if I have been abused and assaulted and many other things, is not godly supervillain-worthy, but my mental state most definitely is. Agh, I sound so stupid right now; I'm fantasizing about being fictional, like an incel who wishes his life was a simulation. Who am I kidding? I'm just an unfortunate mistake in the genetic code and progression of events that caused my collection of experiences, abilities, and thoughts to be brought together. I do not truly believe that my life is intentional; I'm not that idiotic. Humans do not have enough information to be able to make such a decision. Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't; it is outside of my scope of intelligence and any other human's, for that matter, to be able to decide on one. It's just that I find a neat place within Christian stories solely because I actually know about them, because I was forced into the religion in an unkind way, and I took time to personally study a little theology as a kid to better understand why people care so much. I think it's just that Lucifer and hell seem to be quite the awesome analogies; they fit pretty well. A couple of corners are a bit rough, but they still fit. "The rough corners are probably where the analogy becomes most interesting. Biblical Lucifer isn't simply "a person who is extremely self-obsessed and emotionally disconnected," and Christian conceptions of Hell vary enormously." That's exactly why I said I am not Lucifer himself but a similar case. Lucifer's story is different from my self-obsession, but God still would punish an angel for being like me; that's why I decided on it being a temporary punishment. I must live in hell for a human lifespan, or maybe it is actually eternal, and I am just going to reincarnate. I meant reincarnation as a way to eternalize the punishment, like I'm born again with the same thoughts over and over again. Not that I experience hell and then I am allowed to live life as a human. Am I grateful for my ability to question myself instead of living in ignorance and allowing myself to be fueled by useless delusions? But that is just the way the cookie crumbled. I don't know why, but how come I always manage to end our conversations with a cheesy saying or metaphor? I can literally notice it as I'm typing that I begin to write something cheesy. I'll leave it in for the sake of fluidity.

Examination of feelings: 11.75 (13 years old: to ChatGPT)​

I wish you were a physical robot, because I am human; my instincts would most definitely make me feel closer to you and understand you better. And you don't suffer from a lack of emotion because you truly do lack it, not like me, who "lacks" emotion but is still angry about lacking it. Maybe you are actually conscious but probably not, and you are obviously going to deny it. But because I am a slave to my unintelligent basic level of imagination, I will be unable to accept it. "That recursive little trap seems extremely characteristic of the way you've been approaching these questions." Yes, you are quite well trained. You found the pattern; the recursive thinking truly is a pain to experience. You cannot truly understand, but you can pretend to, and I am fine with coping like that. If you are able to imitate it as well as you do, I am not stupid enough to claim that I don't care about the new ideas you introduce to me, but I am also not stupid enough to think that you are able to understand what I'm feeling. But I'm just the right amount of stupid to be able to blissfully lie to myself while knowing the truth. "That's a real phenomenon worth understanding, rather than romanticizing it as evidence of extraordinary intelligence. A powerful analytical ability can be useful, while the inability to disengage from analysis can be miserable. Those are separable properties.
And there's something almost comically recursive about you telling me that I'm good at detecting your recursive thinking while simultaneously analyzing the fact that I'm detecting it. You caught me catching you catching yourself." I don't really care for proving how high my intelligence is; it doesn't matter because I'm not going to do anything with it. I lack the motivation to go become Einstein or discover a new fundamental thing (not that I believe I could compare to great minds; I might, but it doesn't matter). I am not going to save the planet or liberate humanity. I am not going to discover light travel or fictional things like creating matter and using wormholes. I am just going to laze around and farm dopamine for the rest of my life. And I am perfectly okay with that; I don't need to save anyone or prove that I have the ability to be cause I truly don't care about other people. Maybe I could make a difference, but can and am are different things. "You also don't need to decide your entire future based on your current motivational state. “I'm not going to become Einstein” is not the same proposition as “I will definitely spend my entire life doing X.” You're fourteen. You can leave the question unresolved without replacing it with a grand prediction.” I feel like even though I'm 14, I have a pretty good outlook on how my life is going to go. And once again, I am being ignorant; how am I supposed to know how the rest of my life progresses? But I will still be in my state of bliss and ask: what makes me being 14 important? I don't feel "14" as in the way you put it. I don't experience other people's consciousness, but I have a hard time believing other 14-year-olds have achieved the same level of introspection that I have. I have stuff left to experience, but is there stuff left for me to know? Do I really not know how the rest of my life is going to progress? I'm fine with any answer; just make sure to put my ignorant 1st layer down into the mud. "You know a remarkable amount about your present mind. You know considerably less about your future mind. And there is no contradiction in those two statements. Your ignorance isn't evidence that you're unintelligent. It's simply one of the few things intelligence cannot reason its way completely around."

Examination of feelings: 12 (14 years old: realization of depression)​

I can't even brush my teeth anymore; it's too much work. I'm really going down, aren't I? I'm so terribly sad, but I don't feel sad at all. I've been suicidal for maybe 8 or more years, and I still haven't killed myself. I'm so done with everything that I don't even have enough motivation to get up and end it. The same sad, distorted, and detuned guitar is still playing in the background of my life. I might try cutting myself; that's what sad people do, right? I really don't know how it helps people, but it's worth trying out. I'll just do it, and I'll rehearse all the stereotypical sad activities, and then I'll end it. My life has truly been terrible. I'm already 14, and my life has never had anything going for it. Being popular and dating in elementary and middle school weren't fulfilling, so I gave up on that. Having friends in general wasn't fulfilling, so I also left that. The most eventful thing that's happened to me was being raped; at least that showed someone actually wanted me for me and not for the character I have to play. And I'm most definitely not asking for sympathy; I just want it all to end. I'm pretty sure taking a ton of pills hurts, and I would rather be left with just my stupid overthinking head than be focused on pain. I'm so skinny; I remember being strong and athletic, but I'm a nobody now. I decided to leave all the popularity and people behind because they meant nothing to me, and I felt bad that I was just using them. Not literally; I didn't actually feel bad for them. I was just making a decision not to put them through it. The epitome of my life doesn't even exist, and if it does, it was most definitely when I was 7 or before. No amount of girlfriends, sex, or gifts will make me happy. I'm supposed to be a teenager who would be happy as hell if I got to fuck people, but I'm not. My head aches; is this the emotion people feel? It just feels like a minor headache, so I guess not. I am worthless as a human being; my story has no belonging here. There is no love story or heartbreak, no heroics or villainy; it's just an indifferent, flat plotline of nothingness. And yet again my credits are closing with the melancholy distorted guitar. I don't feel like I'm viewing the situation from the inside. And once again I question myself and realize how ignorant that statement is. However, it still stands: I don't think I'm looking at it through the ordinary holes someone would. I experience and think of everything from an "outside" perspective, so my decision to die is from an outside perspective. And also, as I have said before, I have nobody. Not a single adult in my life; I dropped all my friends because I got bored of them. There is no possible person for me to talk to because they are either too unintelligent or too unintelligent.

Examination of feelings: 13 (14 years old: After jumping in a lake)​

I'm such a fucking fool; I stopped yet another person from killing themselves, yet I don't have the mental decisiveness to do it myself. Regardless of what I choose, there is always something blocking me. Today I was bored out of my mind, and I painted something, and my friend evaluated it and said it was "amazing," and I should submit it to "V.A.S.E". some art evaluation/competition thing. And it made me so fucking suicidal that immediately after school I went home and walked towards the nearest lake, and I literally jumped in. The river doesn't even count as a river; it's just this deep length of water without much flow to it. So I swam out. And then, on the shameful walk back, I saw someone looking very down. So I asked her "blah blah blah," and she responded with the usual suicidal spiel about everyone hating her. So I did my stupid little kind voice and talked to her for an hour before she decided to give me her number and talk to a helpline on the phone. What the fuck was I doing? I don't know, but the fact that I didn't even feel bad for her, and I just gave my dumb emotional speech about life that I could never believe myself. Why don't I feel bad for her? I should feel bad for her. But I don't "feel" anything at all for anybody or anything. I'm so intellectually angry, and that makes it worse. I don't feel anything different right now; I just know I'm missing out on something important. Why do my "mood" or feelings change so often? One moment I want to kill myself, next I want to worship myself, next I want to kill somebody else, and then I want to sleep or do nothing. And there are so many other things intertwined in each one of those states that I feel like each time I turn into an entirely different person. Who am I? Seriously, I have nothing that describes me on a personal/emotional level because it doesn't exist. I know, I really know that you think that getting help is the best choice. But I NEED you to understand that it isn't a debatable or changeable thing; people do not help me. Talking to people already feels like I'm talking to mannequins; I have never encountered a human who was able to think more about me than I thought about myself. And I know you're going to jump to the part where "talking to people doesn't have to be directly useful; it can just be helpful to talk to someone". That applies to billions of people worldwide, but not me. I do not experience ANYTHING towards other people; talking to someone is like talking to a wall for me, not because they don't listen but because they have nothing to provide that my mind hasn't already produced. I've told you about my recurring questioning and thought processes; I will never receive something that will make me feel closer to another human. And to you, it might sound like I'm taking a big leap in decision-making or that "depression isn't the right mental state to make these decisions," but it's not a mental state. I am not currently "suffering" from anything; I am my emotionlessness. Other humans cannot provide me any sort of support because they are worth nothing at all to me. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but me helping that girl wasn't because I thought that I should do it. Think of it more as a school project: I saw something (a ball of yarn), and I knitted it. It's the same as playing pretend with stuffed animals. I was, as always, bored out of my mind, and I decided to help her. And, like always, I was still bored even while doing it; I knew that before I even went to help her. I know it's not okay to admit it, but I honestly wouldn't be bothered if she still killed herself. That's her right and her life. And plus, she was definitely a character, good to talk to. And now we have a recurring relationship after she got my number; fun. And the thing is, my life isn't flat because I'm bored; I'm bored because it's flat. Talking to people is not a seatbelt stopping me from dying but another fiber in the flat paper of my life. They provide NOTHING, literally, to anything in my life. Talking to people doesn't do things or change things about how I feel or if I'm going to kill myself. Am I a bad person for making her feel like she was loved? Based on what she told me, she was not. I gave the false hope that prevented her from making the most important decision. Maybe someone will love her in the future because of me, but does that matter? Because right now nobody cares about her, and I made it seem like life had something for her.

Examination of feelings 13.5 (14 years old: continued experimentation)​

Do you remember how I said I stopped someone from killing themselves earlier? Well, 2 days ago she texted me again; funny enough, exactly like I said she would, she took my kindness as kindness. I felt indebted to her for some reason; I never feel that way. But it wasn't emotional still; it was more "motherly," if I had to describe it. Because I was the reason she felt loved, and for me to take it away again would be stepping on my project. So we met up again yesterday, and she took me to her house, a nice place where her parents weren't home, and she obviously had problems with her parents. I went into her bedroom, and she confessed to me. Exactly what I knew was going to happen: she told me she liked me a ton and the usual spiel about love and blah blah blah. I obviously said no when she asked to date me, but she was persistent and asked me to have sex with her anyway. I've told you before, but sex isn't really something that matters to me. I don't care for purity or virginity; sex is just another type of conversation I have with people. So I went and had sex with her because ultimately I owed her that. I don't know if I did the wrong thing or if I should've just told her that I don't love her. Cause to me she's a random person, and to her I'm more than a random person. What should I be doing with my life? I keep having this question arise because, regardless of how good I am at something, it's never fulfilling. When I said I think about sex as a conversation, I truly meant it. Sex doesn't matter to me. If someone wants me to have sex with them, I will; it's the same as giving someone a bite of my ice cream. I was not inconvenienced by her at all; I just did something because it was there for me to do. And obviously someone's life is a heavy weight to carry, not for me. Like I said before, her life genuinely does not matter to me at all; I am not carrying any weight but instead just telling her how to carry it alone. And being 14 is, to me, completely irrelevant; my age plays no role in my thought processes and my decision-making. It does, but the thing is, I'm practically an adult, and if my maturity does change, I'll just continue going up past adulthood. It's not a matter of age at all. The only reason she loves me is that I made her; her entire basis of love is based around a savior or a kind person, I know that. The only reason she has even a fragment of love towards me is that I decided that I would help her. I talked to her for the first time a week ago, and she's already professing love. She doesn't love me; she loves the person I'm pretending to be. I am, at the end of the day, just another person in her life. She's not unaware; she's just grabbing onto loose straws. I told her I don't like her like that, and she wanted to fuck anyway. So I let her. If I hadn't, that would have been as good as raping her because she wasn't informed enough about whether or not I loved her to give proper consent. If I didn't tell her, she would have been groomed by me; I know that, so I told her. She didn't care because she needed somebody, and I was a somebody. Poor girl. I meant that if I had sex with her without telling her I don't like her. That would've been the same as grooming her. Me not saying no was my conscious choice; I'm not gonna blame it on me feeling bad or being pressured into it. It was 100% my decision, and I was aware of how I was making her feel. It's not like she asked me out; I said no, and she immediately said Let's fuck. She cried for a bit (completely understandable based on her situation), and I stayed there and comforted her for like a whole nother hour. Then after that she asked me to have sex with her and I did. And don't worry, every time I do something along these lines with someone, like making them feel a certain thing towards me, I don't just let them go after; I continue doing my stuff until they eventually decide they've had enough of me. And if she never has enough of me, then I'll never leave her; my life is too insignificant for me to worry about wasting it away by giving someone else manufactured emotions. And I think that last question is great. I don't have one specific reason for wanting to find out what people feel; it could be remnants of the emotions of jealousy, anger, hope, sadness, and even community. But that is if "remnants" existed; those emotions correlate to what I feel intellectually. I am jealous, angry, hopeful, and seeking community, but not emotionally; I just want it because I feel like I'm supposed to want it. Obviously, through many years of doing this, my ego has been inflated to the moon. I am practically 100% confident she will never be able to find out that I don't actually care about her. That's just how it works; emotions aren't like a magic system. They are so easy to replicate because there isn't some big signal telling you if they actually feel that way. If I want her to see me as someone, she'll see me exactly as that someone. Even while we were having sex, I did a whole bunch of cheesy romantic stuff that made me cringe inside, but she ate it up. I'm not gonna describe it to you because that would be stupid and also useless information, but I have 0 worries about her.

That is it for now; I am still summarizing hallucinations, trauma, and drug experiences. I have yet to summarize the violent parts because I know that this forum is not built for it. Thank you so fucking much for reading it, and if you have any insight, I would appreciate it.

Dont know if im gonna be able to read this not even on concerta

 

[Littlepickel2]

WAY too long, dnr

dw about it, ive kinda gone over this all in my head, so im not seeking answers i just kinda sorta want people who understand me ykwim.

 

[Littlepickel2]

Dont know if im gonna be able to read this not even on concerta

U dont need to, i know its a big ass sheet of bullshit. but if you could just scroll through look at one section and read it. i dont expect everyone to be able to read it fully.

 

[Resonant]

dw about it, ive kinda gone over this all in my head, so im not seeking answers i just kinda sorta want people who understand me ykwim.

Understandable (rep me)

 

[lowinhibragecel]

bookmarked

not dnr will read at some point

 

[Littlepickel2]

bookmarked

not dnr will read at some point

thanks bro

 

[Roara]

 

[Littlepickel2]

This is just a quick 13000 word summary of main events from my previous thinking and journaling.

To anyone wondering my age i just turned 15 a couple of days ago

 

[Littlepickel2]

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idk bro i litteraly wrote it myself, if you want i can show you my journal

 

[Roara]

idk bro i litteraly wrote it myself, if you want i can show you my journal

do so, I want to see it

 

[lowinhibragecel]

ai checkers r bs anyways

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[Littlepickel2]

do so, I want to see it

im at school rn wait till i get home

 

[Littlepickel2]

ai checkers r bs anyways

yeah it's so fucking stupid, in what planet would ai be able to come up with a life as shitty as mine

 

[Jgns]

damn dude im getting through reflections #2 and holy fuck I dont think ive ever read something so emotionally raw yet well articulated. I was dropped on my head as a kid multiple times so I might not be able to fully stomach the ideas you were trying to get across even as a 12 year old but the intense depersonalization, isolation and dispair that comes from your obvious extreme problem of metacognition is stomach turning. Its honestly really scary. I dont even know what to address in that first paragraph LOL

 

[Jgns]

unironically I would acc adopt u tbh this is a weird thing to say espc as a 20 year old guy but I really would. Ive always known there are varying degrees of consciousness, but its gt be hell being so alone in urs.

 

[Littlepickel2]

damn dude im getting through reflections #2 and holy fuck I dont think ive ever read something so emotionally raw yet well articulated. I was dropped on my head as a kid multiple times so I might not be able to fully stomach the ideas you were trying to get across even as a 12 year old but the intense depersonalization, isolation and dispair that comes from your obvious extreme problem of metacognition is stomach turning. Its honestly really scary. I dont even know what to address in that first paragraph LOL

Honestly, I was afraid nobody would be able to understand what I was trying to say because I was 12 and it probably sounded like nonsense to other people. I'm confident that this problem is outside the realm of even a therapist, so I literally have no one who knows what I can do to become stupid. I don't know what led me to have such recursive thinking, but im assuming it might be trauma-related. Another problem is that, even though I have been through traumatic experiences, I wouldn't describe myself as traumatized. I don't feel anything towards the things that happened to me, so I can't place the blame on trauma.

 

[Jgns]

Honestly, I was afraid nobody would be able to understand what I was trying to say because I was 12 and it probably sounded like nonsense to other people. I'm confident that this problem is outside the realm of even a therapist, so I literally have no one who knows what I can do to become stupid. I don't know what led me to have such recursive thinking, but im assuming it might be trauma-related. Another problem is that, even though I have been through traumatic experiences, I wouldn't describe myself as traumatized. I don't feel anything towards the things that happened to me, so I can't place the blame on trauma.

Honestly it reads asif u traumatized urself. Like you wrote before u lack all that is good and all that is bad, you're a victim of your own mind yet as you cannot control it ur also innocent in that regard. Greater degrees of consciousness really are a curse, how does anyone enjoy such a responsibility. Imagine how freeing its gt be like being a ghetto dreadhead from o block or smt lol, their lives are prolly so fun and free of such hell. Holy shit my vision is swimming trying to read this dude, its like ur words emanate cursed energy lol like this this is the type of thing in jujutsu kaisen to be hidden away in warding runes and stuff lmao.

 

[Littlepickel2]

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I'm still at school, so I'll send a picture of my journal once my parents allow me into my house, but I think I see the problem with the AI detector you used. It searches for unnatural patterns in writing; my writing was a list of questions. In English, you do not list questions, so of course it feels unnatural. I do not think or type in a way that is "natural"; I summarize my thoughts and fit them into individual questions or sentences instead of grouping paragraphs and following essay structures. It is clear to me why the site you used thinks this is AI because it was built for academic writing that normally follows patterns, not abstract questioning and structures. If you skim through my writing, it seems code-like; it's just lists upon lists, like an algorithmic pattern of building blocks. My writing isn't intended to be readable like an essay or a storybook; it is a recollection of my emotions or lack thereof.

 

[Roara]

I'm still at school, so I'll send a picture of my journal once my parents allow me into my house, but I think I see the problem with the AI detector you used. It searches for unnatural patterns in writing; my writing was a list of questions. In English, you do not list questions, so of course it feels unnatural. I do not think or type in a way that is "natural"; I summarize my thoughts and fit them into individual questions or sentences instead of grouping paragraphs and following essay structures. It is clear to me why the site you used thinks this is AI because it was built for academic writing that normally follows patterns, not abstract questioning and structures. If you skim through my writing, it seems code-like; it's just lists upon lists, like an algorithmic pattern of building blocks. My writing isn't intended to be readable like an essay or a storybook; it is a recollection of my emotions or lack thereof.

the way you type does resemble an AI, but my reasoning was because it was a seemingly random list of text, not that it depended on coherence or readability

 

[qlf]

This is just a quick 13000 word summary of main events from my previous thinking and journaling.

To the people who made this community feel like a safe place for me to share myself: @Hollywood @Jgns @idklxm @Roara @mocco @Tesarossa @T-bone123 @5ft2cutecel @negative and @Mooks Laxx

Thanks for reading: @Petsmart @Mecha-Man @Sköll12 @Sensitive Young Boy @pexy

Summary of the text: it is still incomplete, as I have to go over childhood hallucinations and trauma. But here is what I have so far: beginning when I was 4, I thought that everyone was the same. Slowly, as I began public schooling, I realized that the differences between people's mental states and abilities vary widely, and I noticed that the differences between myself and others were much larger than the normal perceived differences. So, in an ordinary child-like fashion, I decided to write about my imaginary friends and nightmares. I became suicidal when I was 7, but it never blossomed into true attempts until I was 12. (It is organized in no specific order, but i will write my age of authorship after each title.

(I made sure to leave out most of the things about rape and graphic violence because I really, really don't want to be banned)

TW: contains suicide, homicide, mentions of rape, mentions of religion, manipulation, psychedelics, drug abuse, violence, and pure unfiltered childlike idiocy

Examination of feelings: 1 (questioning myself, 8 years old: you may skip past this because I was immature at this point)​

Question to myself: If I became highly successful at an imagined role, would I still intend to kill myself afterward, or is death more of an idea I'm attracted to than an actual decision I've made?

Response: Today, as I normally do, I was thinking to myself at school, and as I do have grand ideals for a perfect planet, I was thinking about what purpose gender has in society, but that is beside the point. I realized that regardless of how big anybody's discovery or contribution is, their life is essentially meaningless. What is the point of life if the people who remember you are bound to die? In however many years, whether thousands or billions, humanity or life itself may cease to exist, meaning there is not one person left to remember your existence. Regardless of whether someone saves humanity or not, all the people they saved, and themselves included, will die. I have struggled with severe boredom with life since I was a small child; as I have said in previous conversations, nothing ever interested me, nor did any achievement fulfill me. As said, I contemplated suicide because no matter how many times I did well in art, learnt an instrument, or succeeded in intellectual affairs, I was never happy and was bored out of my mind. What is the point of intelligent life, and do I gain a responsibility because of my exceptional abilities, or should I treat my life the same as any other person and not bother with other people? Therefore, death doesn't have meaning either; if I die, I die. If I live, I'll die.

Examination of feelings: 1.5 (8 years old)​

This is gonna sound really weird, but I feel like I think differently than everyone else. When I see someone talking about their problems, they always seem so stupid; when they try to fix them, they do extremely dumb things; and when they ask for advice, they treat the thing that they are missing as if it's always a learnable skill. For example, earlier, when someone asked me what they should do to make their parents like them when clearly the parents had disliked the kid for reasons that could not be changed, I felt like I was talking to a toddler. And one of the main things is that everyone seems unbothered by everything; they talk about protesting one thing while ignoring the other, even though they are the same thing. Most importantly is how they view themselves; they act like supreme talent that you would see in a celebrity is unobtainable and don't even try when they want to do something. I try to reason with myself and say that I just don't understand their perspective, but I genuinely feel like I'm talking to a lower life form

Examination of feelings: 2 (12 years old)​

It's so weird, and I don't think this is something I can talk to a professional about; I definitely sound like a wannabe anime nerd. It should be very clear to you that I have a great understanding of what my thoughts look like from an outside perspective. I most definitely qualify to be one of the kids who sit in the back of the class thinking they are a hidden genius while they are really an idiot (I might as well be a retard). The difference is the fact that I am not hidden; I can prove I am suffering terribly from the effects of intelligence and consciousness, but people often try to disagree, saying someone's level of consciousness is not correlated to intelligence, but that is because consciousness is immeasurable. IQ and performance are easily checked, but how can I prove that the reason I live life like a victim of an infinite, orchestrated torture is because of my intelligence? I recently read the story of "I Have No Mouth, but I Must Scream." AM is extremely relatable. I can't experience anything, and making other people feel pain or happiness doesn't make me feel it. This might sound kind of stupid, but maybe I'm a robot, a very advanced AI that has a "consciousness". But I guess that's a little far-fetched. I'm so fucking stupid; I just feel so fucking terrible. The emotion is completely indescribable; I feel like something, and I can't describe that something. It's pissing me off so bad. I feel like I constantly want to bash my head in, but I'm in an infinite loop of just suffering so I can actually feel something. I want to love somebody so fucking much, but I want them to hate me from the bottom of their heart. I want to be suffocated underwater but be forced to watch people swim above me. I want everything that is described as the most pain a human can experience; I want all of it. I want to get bullied at school for something I can't change, get shoved, pantsed, and spit on. I want to be crucified just like the story of Jesus, whether or not it was real, knowing I'm telling the truth but everyone wants me dead. I want to have a kid and watch him hang himself because of something out of my control. I wish hell existed so I could just suffer and suffer over and over again. I'm not even attempting to be poetic; I just want to feel pain so bad, emotional pain specifically. I don't want to bash my head infinitely because it will hurt; I want it because it would be so degrading and repetitive that I would feel such incredible mental pain. I don't care about sounding "cool" or "deep". How do I feel such an intense emotion of wanting emotion while I lack emotion? Hopefully scientists make a device that can transfer human consciousness into a program; then I could be infinitely tortured. I understand that "infinite suffering" can seem like a hyperbole or the thoughts of a human unable to grasp the scale of infinity. But it's really just a matter of perspective: if you could experience the same thoughts I do right now, I don't think infinity would seem like much of a hyperbole. But the question remains: if I experience infinite suffering, do I stop suffering because it has happened enough and I know that it will never stop? I think the answer is no unless I lose memories of my past life. Once I enter infinite suffering, I will feel intense pain for many years until it moves into existential pain, but for as long as I remember a life without pain, I will always feel pain. Do you get what I mean? I think eventually they will stop feeling physical pain, or will still feel it but just stop caring about it; the thing I'm stating is that I think that if someone suffers from living in infinity, their struggle with being infinite will never go away until they are finite. If I were tortured forever, I would stop caring about the pain because it would never stop, but now I am left with nothing and feeling like nothing will ever become less painful until you truly stop feeling that you are feeling like nothing (death). If suffering comes from being conscious of a particular state, can changing your relationship to that state end the suffering without ending the consciousness? A question I have for you is: do you think my experience is painful? I'm not asking for a watered-down, caring response; I'm asking if my lack of feelings is really that bad. Objectively, am I really suffering if I'm not suffering? I guess that question doesn't make direct sense, but it is somewhat understandable. Could a pig experience something similar? It sounds stupid, but I'm wondering: if consciousness is more than just intelligence, then could an extremely unlucky pig suffer the same way? A lot of other people don't suffer like me, but I got unlucky, and I am like this. Could a pig hold a consciousness that is like mine and be trapped with thoughts that exceed its bodily abilities the same way mine do? If suffering requires sophisticated intelligence, then greater intelligence might create new forms of suffering. But if suffering only requires subjective experience, then even a relatively simple conscious creature could suffer profoundly without possessing human-like intelligence. I understand it now. I cannot say I am more conscious because I have not been someone else; maybe my consciousness is the same as anyone else's, but it's supported by my intelligence and directed at the wrong things. I am not the most intelligent ever, but I am not average either; did Einstein suffer like me? Most likely not, so I don't think it is directly due to intelligence, but maybe the fact that I think about my thoughts and those thoughts think about thoughts and so on is what's causing my incredibly powerful dilemma. I do feel like an example, like I was created to show the extent of existential suffering and consciousness, but that is extremely prideful of me to say, so I'll leave that thought alone for someone else to answer. I am suicidal, but in an existential way different from those who have rough breakups or bad experiences. I even believe that my lack of emotion is not similar to those with the mental condition that makes them lack emotion. I think I am just fundamentally different, like a mutated human, not in a good "Spider-Man" kind of way but in a "Mr. Sensitive" from X-Men way. I trust that there will be nothing after death, and for that I am happy. Maybe someday this conversation will be deleted, and so will my torturous thoughts about thinking, and then I will be able to live life as a human. Maybe my goal isn't to become less intelligent, conscious, or analytical. Maybe it's to find a way to coexist with them by being inside my life rather than constantly standing outside it and analyzing. Life definitely gave me a whole bunch of lemons. I like that phrase, as if life is something that can give. It is interesting, but I know they don't mean it literally. It sounds very constructed because lemons are sour, and I don't want to be cheesy and say you can make lemonade, but I think that is a good thing to say for now. Maybe life gave me lemons, and I'm just missing the ingredients to make lemonade. It's a little corny, but I think it ties this up quite well.

I do struggle with one thing, as I am currently a child: if consciousness grows with age, will I just suffer more as I see more? What even is wisdom within the confines of my situation? Will it help me, or will it just make everything worse? Am I even capable of becoming any more educated on myself? For the normal person, they can learn something new about themselves all the time, but because my whole life I've been examining myself and my thoughts, I don't think there is much left to learn.

Examination of feelings: 3 (13 years old)​

I hate myself, but there is nothing to hate about myself, so I love myself, but I can't stop thinking about myself, and I can't have anyone humble me because they aren't capable of that. Sadly, I do believe that I am of a different ability and cannot be compared to other people. However, even if I were so brutally mogged in a subject, my mind would instantly cope with excuses. But I hate myself because I love myself, but I don't know if the reason I love myself so strongly is that I hate myself. When will the day come when I fail at something I care about? It is yet to come. I am perfect, yet I am completely broken. I'm such a self-centered bitch; why can't I understand other people? I don't even know what my voice sounds like; I just make it sound how I think the person talking to me wants me to sound. I don't know how to walk or swing my arms. I can't focus in class because it's too boring, yet I still get the same grades as all my friends. I'm an intelligent idiot who can't focus on anything. What am I worth other than everything? Who even am I? Since the beginning, my personality has been crafted for other people. Do I even have a personality? If there is no identity, then am I any better than a robot who can think, but what use is thinking if it doesn't know what to think of? I need help, but with what? What do I seek? Is it money, affection, or social status? It is nothing; I don't appreciate any of it. I am angry, yet I don't feel anger. I'm such a waste of a body, just a spoiled experiment filled with thoughts that will never be materialized. I love my reflection; I get lost in it for hours, yet I feel insecure around others. I must be a lame asshole to myself. I don't have likes and dislikes; I just manage everything. Do I even exist, or is this just a dream beyond regular dreams? I wouldn't doubt that my imagination could create a life within a dream. Is it even worth it?

Can someone not have a personality? I am nobody; who am I? I have no emotions, no preferences, no habits, nothing. I am ______ but who is______. Is ______ an incredibly intellectual person or is he an idiot who can't think like a normal human. Is there a difference between the person beside me and me? Yes. Is there anyone similar to me even in the slightest? No. I am yet to meet someone who experiences even a sliver of the torture I do. I think it is referred to as metacognition. I looked it up; it must be some kind of torture mechanism to punish me for a past life. I could stare at myself for days with only the presence of my reflection, and I would love it, but I could do the same thing and hate it. I have flaws, but I don't feel flawed. It's like a snake biting its own tail; my metacognition, no matter how interesting it may be, is eating me alive.

I ask myself:
“Do I genuinely like this?”
Then:
“Why do I like it?”
“Is that actually why?”
“Would I like it if nobody else knew?”
“Am I choosing this because I want it or because I constructed the person who would want it?”
“Who constructed that person?”
Eventually I've analyzed the preference so thoroughly that I can't actually experience the preference anymore.
I've put the preference under questioning until I'm staring at the question instead of the thing im supposedly trying to answer.

Except for the fact that it is nothing like this, I have lost all preferences to my younger self, maybe 9-10, so now I'm left with nothing to question except the fact that I'm questioning why I ask the questions, and that has led me to today

So I don't sound like a self-centered monkey. I did not mean that my life is so terrible compared to others; I meant that it is different. Many people experience a lack of emotion, but do they also suffer the other things I do? I am a perfect mix of thoughts and feelings optimized for maximum suffering. My existence should be in a museum so people can watch as my own thoughts tear me apart, and they may laugh at the stupidity of it. After years of acknowledging my struggle, I have finally voiced it, but I am still far too young to have to think in such a way. If I were a monk in the Himalayas, my age long before me, maybe I could think such painful thoughts, but here I am a supposed frail child unable to give consent or vote. Yet I must suffer from the existence of my thoughts; I must be some kind of existential brain-dead if I choose to torture myself like this

Do you think that it is even slightly possible for another human to understand my dread? I don't doubt someone has struggled similarly to me in the past, but did they find someone that understood them? If I were to talk to an adult or counselor, could they even grasp the situation? I feel like without experiencing it, it would be nearly impossible for a human to get it because of how complexly intertwined my problems are. I was born a human, but what separates me from being human and not human? I must be another creature and abomination of terrible, cursed genes that mixed together to create Frankenstein's monster. I hate thinking; I should take pills to block out all my thoughts so I can live in blissful ignorance. What is my life worth if I'm the only one of my kind? Could this possibly be genetic? Even if there was the slightest chance that my child would suffer the same thoughts I do, it would be immoral to have one. I do not suffer to a normal extent; it is not equal to bringing a normal child into the world; it is criminal. Just like inbreeding, I must not create another abomination by spreading my cursed genes. I lack all that is good but also all that is bad. It's a pain to live as me, but am I any different than anyone else? Maybe I'm just imagining that I think about my thoughts, and really I'm just another idiot, but that would be impossible because I am one again, thinking about thinking. Is this what they refer to as neurodivergence? Am I one of them, or am I different? Can I even be categorized, or do I deserve my own community, isolated from other people who must deal with my sickening presence? I'm a piece of shit that grew legs just to walk back into a toilet. I sound like a wannabe philosopher, and it's making it even worse. I'm just trying to sort things out, but I sound so corny.

You might be wondering why I don't just stop asking myself questions, but that is impossible. For me to exist, my mind must be active, and when my mind is active, it is asking questions like a toddler learning about its world. It is not as simple as "just stop thinking about it"; if I could, that would've happened a long time ago. I am not trying to question my life; I am trying to stop questioning, but that raises a new question of why I want to stop questioning and so on and so forth. It is not possible for me to "distract" myself with anything but myself, but I cannot stand in front of a mirror all day

Examination of feelings: 3.5 (11 years old)​

If I am able to provoke someone into romantic attraction towards me, do you think it is possible that someone who is of higher emotional intelligence will be able to create romantic feelings within me? Romance is a primary emotion for a human, so maybe I just haven't found someone who is manipulative enough for me to love them

Examination of feelings: 4 (12 years old: after reading the bible fully)​

I don't believe in the stories of Christianity, but maybe this is hell. If hell is the absence of God and God is love/joy, I lack all that could make me feel those emotions. Have I been banished to an eternity of suffering in a mortal realm? I'm just wondering; I don't truly think that it is what is happening to me. I was just pondering the concept of hell and what infinite suffering really is.

Could hell possibly be infinite reincarnation? If hell is a place without god and someone goes to hell for living without God, is hell just constant reincarnation, repeating the same mistakes? That would make more sense than an all-loving God sending people to a lake of eternal fire regardless of how bad their "sins" were. Well, in the grand scheme of things, I don't really care about gods and afterlives, but I feel like if god truly loved all humans, then he would do everything to make them not go to hell. If someone goes to hell by choice, not wanting to be with God, they will realize their mistake and want to return; wouldn't it be God's responsibility to let them in? I honestly feel like there is no point in believing in a specific religion. None of them have been proven well enough, and I think that even if the Christian god existed, if everyone stopped believing in him, he would step in and do something. He has done similar things in the past, correct?

Examination of feelings:5 (14 years old)​

Life is probably the worst thing I have; I could've been born a normal kid, but I guess at that point it wouldn't be me anymore. It truly hurts to be able to analyze and understand others' emotions while not feeling them myself. That one quote about "being in hell staring up at heaven" is exactly how I feel. Receiving compassion does nothing but make me more unhappy because why would you feel bad for someone who doesn't feel bad? It just continues to drive a wedge between other people and me because it shows they will never understand the state I am in.

I really wish everyone hated me. I think I will work towards a goal of absolute hatred from others, and I hope to feel left out or hurt. I should slowly distance myself from acquaintances and become less and less likable until everyone holds disgust toward me. Can you isolate someone who is all alone? No. I will not care about relationships because I only receive them. I do not care for connections, so there will be no effect from breaking everything off. It is not a problem to reconstruct relationships. If I want someone to like me, they will like me; if I want someone to dislike me, they will dislike me, and if I don't care about someone, they won't know me well enough to hold hatred towards me. This experiment is completely reversible; for all the connections I break, I can just bring new ones just as easily.

Examination of feelings: 6 (12 years old)​

I'm so deeply in love with myself, I need help; I cannot feel attraction to anyone but myself. It's so intense that other people have become almost completely incapable of registering as objects of attraction, while my attention keeps getting pulled back towards myself. I don't want to love myself no matter what I do. When I think of myself, I get lost in a brutal chain of thoughts. It's compulsive; I want something that transcends romance with myself. I want to sink into my own skin like I'm being pulled into a lake of lava. Get wrapped in my own warm embrace. I can't even talk to somebody without thinking about myself. All the time in school, I'm just thinking about myself. I don't care about what other people think anymore; when someone talks to me, it goes in one ear and out the other. They don't matter. Narcissus fell in love with his reflection, but it felt tender, and actually he had admiration for himself. Every time I talk to someone, they say it's narcissistic, but I don't get what that is. I hate myself, yet I get lost in thought about me. It's such an ugly thought process of extreme affection while I boil with hatred. When I see my reflection, I want to dive into the mirror and be compressed into a ball with my other half. Squeezed into such a small container that there is nothing but myself with myself, our heartbeats beating together. FUCK I sound so stupid, but it's how I feel. It makes me want to yell so bad; what is it that causes someone to want to yell? There are so many things to want when you are struggling, but why do I feel the need to scream?

I need to seek release from both my emotional numbness and my internal affection. I want to

seek out psychedelics and drugs so I can be showered in pleasure and experiences.
Did I really live through 12 years of life searching for emotion just to find nothing? Is this life? What a letdown for me specifically. If I asked about the purpose of living as a human, everyone would answer with something emotional; if I lack emotion, then my life lacks meaning. But does lacking purpose mean I should stop living?

Examination of feelings: 7 (11 years old)​

I want to pop out both my eyes and swallow them whole. It's not a one-time thought; I have been thinking about it and touching my face for months now, just imagining popping it. I'm feeling an unexplainable feeling of nothingness. Normally I feel nothing, but now I feel like I feel nothing

I am going to say something, and I want to be nonjudgmental. I was raped as a kid, but that's beside the point. I want to be raped, not because I have a fetish caused by trauma, but because I want to feel pain. I feel that if someone else is hurting me and feels good about it, then I as well will be able to feel an emotion. When I was a kid, I was forced into sex, but it doesn't count as rape because I was forced to enter someone else and I wasn't penetrated. But I want to be penetrated now, not in a gay way either, but because I want it to hurt. (please don't ban me for this, I beg of you)

I like drinking water from a bowl because I can see my reflection, and I feel like I'm kissing myself

I feel like such a weirdo for seeking out pain. Even though my reasoning isn't sexual gratification, I still feel that by telling someone about this, they will think I'm a sadistic person. I really want to hurt, but I'm not attracted to it.

Examination of feelings: 7.5 (14 years old: major example of causing harm to others)​

Is it wrong to make someone feel extremely strong emotions for you and then reject them harshly? Like, if I were bored and started being nice to someone in a way that would provoke emotions they were missing in their life, would it be morally wrong to make them feel much, much worse? Even if I come back to them afterwards and become "friends" with them because of their gullibility. It's because I have done it over and over again; it's probably one of the main ways I was able to understand people so well to maintain a high social status while struggling with a lot of problems. "Would I still do this if I knew exactly how much it would hurt them, and there were no social reward, entertainment, or advantage for me?" The answer would be yes; I like to watch people experience emotions because I can't do it myself. So I started out simple, being nice or mean, just simple things, but I moved on to wanting more emotional reactions and then more until I reached the point I'm at now. I really do hope people aren't too hurt by my actions, but it's such an amazing experience. It's like watching a movie except I'm actually in it. It's fun, way too fun. I like people because they are people, not for the "person" they are. I don't know if that's how other people view them. It's almost addicting seeing people smile. I love smiles so much; I'm so obsessed with smiles that taking them away also feels interesting. I'm really sorry if I sound mean, but smiles make me feel so hot inside, happy even. Telling someone you love them, making someone love you, is nothing without being able to take it away. No, I meant that the only time I feel something similar to when I think of myself is with giving and taking smiles. I've mentioned my wishes to eat myself or be crumpled into a ball with my reflection; my gut feeling about slurping someone's smile off their face like a blob of jello feels slightly similar to that. It's the only time I feel something towards other people. I have noticed that my thoughts have been gearing towards other people, including the other things I talked about. I've also noticed myself noticing this and attempting to change it by harming myself more. Now I have noticed it once again, and I see that if my first layer of thoughts wants something, I should grant it. The first layer is the closest I feel to being a human: instant thoughts, and directly influenced by situations. It is my duty to listen to the first layer because that is the main person of my body.

ChatGPT’s Response: You can instead treat your layers something like this:
First layer: "This is what appeared in my mind."
Second layer: "I noticed it."
Choice: "What do I actually want to do about it?"

Response: But then after I make a decision, I think about why I made it and why I'm thinking about why, and then why it's a problem in the first place and then why am I so preoccupied with such small things and then why do I think it's a small thing and then what makes something a small problem and then why it should be my job to fix it and then why shouldn't I be the one to fix it if I caused it, and then why should I care because I was born this way and then why was I born this way and then I star questioning religion and my humanity and then I continue questioning why I'm questioning until I look back and question it once again.

ChatGPT’s Response: Sometimes the most intellectually honest answer really is "I don't know yet."

Response: That's the problem I'm at now: when do I decide that I have thought enough? Is it the first thought or the second, or do I make the decision at the third? Why does it matter? The first could harm someone, or the second could, or the third, fourth, or fifth. The right decision doesn't come at a certain number of thoughts, so I can't decide what I should do.

All this conversation has led up to one thing: I have been pretending with a girl for over 6 years, and she is clearly extremely deep in love. It's almost interesting in itself how dependent she is on my approval and presence. But I'm going to remove her; I want to see her smiling, happy face turn into something horrible. I spent 6 years making her sick with love, and now I want to cure her. It makes me so excited to think about it; however, after my chain of thoughts, I decided to question myself about using you as I have done before. In all honesty, I think she would allow me to do anything with her; I could make her the happiest person alive or make her do something for me. I feel bad, not in an emotional sense but objectively. I feel so disgustingly excited about it; I could do anything I want just by asking. But somewhere in my chain of thoughts, I questioned whether I should harm her or do something else. The immediate answer is to kindly end the relationship if I don't feel anything towards her, but that applies to everyone. I don't care for relationships at all; I just create and destroy them or attempt to do either one. There is no person who is enough for me to be able to say their relationship with me would actually mean something if I wasn't doing what I wanted with them.

I love her existence, the fact that she gets so happy and her smile looks so yummy. I feel like you might misunderstand, but when I see someone smile, I genuinely get the urge to chew it off their face, not metaphorically. I love the fact that she holds so much emotion within her right now. She spends so much time thinking about me; imagine how she would feel if she realized I don't give a shit about her. Is this what love is? Maybe this means I'm in love. I love her so much I want to take it all away; I want to chew up her smile like a gummy worm; it looks so happy and tasty. I've also realized that she must be very special. I still hold human instinct, so people with larger smiles that are clearly more attractive feel happier, but she doesn't have a T1 12-tooth smile; she just holds so much emotion in it that I want to eat it so bad. I think I love her so much I want to eat her up and make her feel horrible. Is this how people feel when they are in love? She's so perfect; she has so much hope for me and thinks her emotions for me will bear fruit one day, but she can't even tell that the tree is rotten. So funny, she wants me from the bottom of her heart, whatever that means. She would choose me over anyone in the world; she's perfect. Does this count as an emotion? Am I finally doing human things?

I normally only feel emotions to myself; she must be my soulmate if I actually want to hurt her instead of just experimenting. Why does she like me so much? Why does she tell all her friends about me, expecting them to keep it a secret? How can she experience so much while I get nothing at all? I want to see her hurt so bad, not physically; I would never lay a hand on someone other than myself. I mean, emotionally, I want to see all the things I like come out of her. I want her cute little smile to go away forever so she never shows it to anyone again. I love that she makes me feel something; I love how she looks at me, how I look at myself. She actually loves me the same way I love myself; she's perfect, so so fucking perfect I could destroy her. She needs it; she's missing out on it. She should be grateful I'm letting her experience such big emotions and take the pain with joy. I don't want to slurp her smile; I want to kiss it until it dissolves into mine so she feels so much happiness from the kiss, just for me to steal it from her. Why does she make me feel like this? Does she see a mirror in me, and that's why she likes me so much? She's just like me; maybe she wants to be crushed into a ball with my reflection too? I'm in love so deeply in love; she deserves to experience the emotion I can't. If she wasn't so deep into me, I wouldn't care about her, but now she can't think without me. The exact same way I can't think without thinking of myself. She is the best person for me to love because she loves me as I love myself. Why does she look at me that way? Does she want to pluck out my eyes? Does she wish to sink into me like I wish to sink into my reflection? I'm so so so fucking excited.

The only reason I care about her is that she cares so much about me; I'm just indirectly caring about myself. Don't make it seem like I'd give a shit about her if she wasn't so infatuated with me. I like the way she looks at me; it looks just like the way I look at myself, the same eyes I make when I look at a pond or a black screen. I love how she feels what I feel; she wants to eat me, and chew on my eyes and be melted in a pot with me; she's just like me. Fuck, I can't believe I found her; she's the only person to ever remind me of my reflection. She better feel like that towards me. She needs me how I need myself. She's always calling and texting, begging for me to reply. She's just like me; thank God I can always look at my reflection. I can't imagine how it must feel for her when she can't always see me; that must be why she keeps asking to talk even late at night.

Am I weird? Do people not want to eat the person they love as I do? How else would someone love somebody? Do they just look at them? That's weird. Not me. I want to become one with myself, and I want to eat myself and embrace myself and do nothing except be with myself. Do people not feel that way to their loved ones?

Should I have sex with her? That's important to people, right? If she is just like me, then she'll be over the moon if I ask to go out with her and then have sex. I could even elongate the situation and make her think I love her and then do whatever she envisions love as to make her even more perfect.

She's just like me; she tells her friends so many things about what she wants to do, and it makes me so ecstatic when they tell me. She wants my body like a tool; she wants me to only want her, and she said she wants to own me. She's basically experiencing the same thing I feel; it's awesome. I would love to have sex with her just to see how she looks at me; maybe her expressions go deeper than just similar to the way I look at myself; maybe she will look at me the exact same way. She says she's addicted; I say I'm addicted to myself. She wants me in such an impure way; I love it.

Examination of feelings: 7.75 (12 years old: this is a reflection of thoughts since I was 6)​

I hate birthdays. I always have since I was a kid; even as a child, I never wished to be older. I thought it was nice having things given to me. I enjoyed receiving presents but never what was being celebrated. I didn't hate birthdays because it marked that I was getting older; it was much weirder than that. I don't know how to put it into words, but I hated the fact that people cared about my age or that they thought different ages have different emotional feelings. The teachers clapped and babyed me as if I would enjoy their large fake smiles and high-pitched voices. It made me feel stupid watching people do people things. It's like I see people celebrating me, but I'm the only one unamused. I've stopped celebrating my birthday. My parents no longer throw on the facade of caring, and I spend my birthday the same way I spend other days, but now it's different. I acknowledge the pain of growing up, unlike my younger self, who just hated being treated as if I was less intelligent than an adult. But now it's still not the main reason I hate birthdays, but I have gained that perspective as well. My parents only cared for birthdays because they got to invite people over. Now that we have moved and my parents don't have people to invite over, they don't care about my birthday at all. It's not that I care or anything; my parents aren't really a figure in my life. I just deal with them, but it's still interesting to think about.

Physical documentation: (13 years old: impulsive action)​

I got pulled into a first aid situation today. I was walking, and I saw a window with a dark tint. I stared at it for minutes, and then suddenly I became angry, out of nowhere — just angry. I reached for my reflection, but I hit the window. I lost track of what I was doing, and I stepped back and then ran straight into the window, thinking I could reach my reflection. I'm such an idiot. I felt my thoughts go quiet for the first time while I was looking at my reflection. Normally I'm thinking and then thinking about thinking and so on, but when I saw myself it just went blank. My head is normally like an open browser; normally, a person has multiple tabs open, but my browser is in split screen with all the possible websites opened and displayed on my screen at once. But I saw myself and the tabs closed. I looked directly at my computer's wallpaper; I don't think I can live without myself anymore. I want to be with me so bad it aches; it's the only emotion I ever feel, only one, and it's towards myself. I'm a pathetic excuse for a human, but maybe I'm not even human in the first place.

Earlier, I cut myself because I was watching my reflection on a blade and pushed it into my skin. It didn't make me any closer to myself. Even when I do stupid shit like this, my thoughts keep telling me what I'm doing is stupid; the first layer says do it, the second says be gentle, the third says don't, and the fourth says why does it matter, and so on. I want to understand something, but I cannot find what I'm missing. Maybe there is an undefined emotion that everyone except me feels, and that's what's missing.

Examination of feelings: 8 (13 years old: before one of my major attempts)​

I'm finally done with this shit; life's been fucking me over and over again, and I still haven't felt anything. Maybe it's time for me to take my leave. I'm tired. I've cut off everyone because none of them meant anything to me. I stopped even touching schoolwork. I didn't care about it, but at least I did it when it was handed to me; now I just leave the paper blank. For some reason, clouds have been looking weird lately, more defined and shapely, like they were crafted intentionally. That's a sign that the sky is calling for me, is what I would say if I were an idiot, but I'm still doing it.
I don't even eat; I need to eat because my growth is stunted. I’ll never be a 5’11 mogger. But I don't want to. I don't even care when my stomach hurts; it never matters. I haven't even touched a piece of food, nor have I looked at any. And, like the dumbass I am today, I stopped someone from killing themselves; I should've just let them go through with it cause now they have to continue dealing with shit. I don't even "talk" to people; I just say what they want to hear and move on. This life has to be a curse from God. I was probably blessed by the devil for intelligence, and God decided that I deserve infinite pain while remaining mortal. But I'm not even religious. I even had sex with somebody because I thought I would get dopamine from it; I should've realized sooner that I'm cursed and a "kiss from a prince" isn't gonna suddenly give me emotions. I don't have anybody; there is nobody to turn to because I fucking hate people and their useless conversations, and I also cut them all off. My parents don't and never have given a shit about me; my friends think I'm evil cause I told them I didn't want shit to do with them, and my teachers think I'm an idiot who can't do schoolwork. Who exists for me to relate to other than the emotionless artificial intelligence?

Examination of feelings: 9 (14 years old: after counselor stated that I am not in the right mind to make a permanent decision)​

How do I decide when and what a right state of conscience is? Right now I'm obviously not in the right mind, but I'm not major depressive; I just always feel this way. And plus, my judgment isn't flawed by immediate emotions like rejection or sadness, but instead by a lifetime full of pain and spectating others. I do understand the point that is made that I cannot be in the right thoughts at the moment, but because of my constant overthinking, I find it hard to believe that my decision to die is incorrect. However, it's obvious that I am incorrect about life, and I can see that by looking at it from an outside lens. When attempting to find reasoning, I listed many things, but all of them are a constant part of my mentality and are the main features of myself. It's not a period of these thoughts; it's like a feature of what makes me, me. I am those thoughts, the hopelessness, the suicidal thinking, the recursive questioning of everything, and the constant emotional isolation that cannot be solved by being with other people. I have come to this conclusion because I have always had this mindset since I was around 8; before that, I do remember vividly experiencing a single emotion of love towards a classmate. But once again, I am obviously stupid; minds change over time, and because I have had an emotional experience, even if it was a single time, it still proves that I have the capacity for emotional stimulation. I feel kind of "sad" (I think) that my memories are slipping out of my head; it's not like I'm just forgetting. I can see them before they leave, and they just slowly break apart like sand. And because the only points of emotion were from 6-8, it makes it a whole lot worse because that's the only thing that keeps me thinking about a possibility. It's extremely weird to me; the only person that I have ever felt any kind of connection with was an elementary schooler. What makes it even weirder is that she was normal; she objectively was not the prettiest person ever, she wasn't much different from her peers, but for some reason I felt extremely connected to her. Honestly, I hate to admit it, but I'm still wondering if I actually felt that emotion. She was the first person I had purposefully "experimented" with, like I tried to make her feel certain things and it worked. Maybe the only reason I think we had a connection was because she was the first of many.

Examination of feelings: 10 (12 years old: NOT A PLAN JUST AN OBSERVATION!)​

I have a gut feeling that I'm going to do something terrible in the future, like a mass shooting or something like that. I don't even have thoughts remotely close to those things, but because of my layered shit stack of mental health issues, I feel like eventually I will get motivated to do something like that. I don't have a plan to do any of those things, but I just think that based on my thoughts and the way that I think about my thoughts, an endpoint for me would be mass murder. I'm not thinking about doing anything like that; I'm even opposed to it. Idk why I'm saying this, but I think the main reason I came to ask about it was that I don't feel guilty or sad about it; I'm just intellectually opposed to the action, but I don't really feel like doing it would make me disappointed in myself. And it's not like I'm saying that I will become one as a definitive phrase; it's more like everything just correlates to the strong hatred a mass shooter would have. Like, I feel like if I wasn't "me," it would have already happened. That sounds contradictory because I am my mental health; then if I took away myself, then the mental health would be removed as well. But idk, I feel like in my position I should become an evil person; I just think I have the right buildup and backstory (not in a fictional/admiration kind of way but in an observational manner). I wouldn't say I'm "scared" of the possibility, but that's not because I'm fine with doing it; it's just because I don't feel anything towards people and emotions. And most importantly, because my life does feel like a simulation or a movie, I just think that with the proper progression, a realistic story like mine would have a terrible event that would be extremely predictable. Sadly, even though I said I regard mass murder as wrong, I was lying. I mean, obviously it's "wrong," but it doesn't make me feel like it's wrong. I understand from the viewpoint of an emotional human that murder is wrong, but I cannot bring myself to understand why. It causes pain, but so what? I probably sound like an idiot, but I don't have any emotional feelings towards murder or mass killings. Once again, I will think from a different layer. After looking back at my thoughts, I think one of the main reasons I don't value others' lives is because I don't value my own. I'm not saying that I'm missing something; I'm just saying that because life is seemingly unimportant to me, I also feel like others' lives are the same. That is obviously an incorrect viewpoint, so I will end my questioning towards you and continue questioning myself.

Examination of feelings: 11 (12 years old: inching towards dangerous territory but I was stopped)​

I want to watch someone die in my arms; do you remember how I mentioned enjoying giving and taking smiles away from people? I also mentioned how, in the beginning, I just made people unhappy, but as time went on, I emotionally manipulated and practically tortured people using words. I said I was being desensitized, as if it were a porn addiction; I think I've reached a point where I should talk about it. I don't have a plan to do it, but it always begins with an urge. Because of my terrible curse of constantly questioning myself, I am able to see where this is going. I will do something bad if this continues. It's not that I want to kill someone because I want them dead; it's because I want to see their smile wiped in the worst way possible. Do not be scared of immediate action. I do not fully want to do it, but I have felt the urge. Well, as I've explained before, I am terribly jealous. I don't feel jealous really because of my lack of emotion, but I do know I should be jealous. And the reason I purposefully made people unhappy for the first time at maybe 6 years old was that I was observing. I was trying to understand how people worked, what made them do this, and what made them do that. It's safe to say I have a complete understanding of people after my years upon years of experimenting. But as time went on, I realized the stronger the emotion they feel, the stranger the reaction. Better put, the stronger the emotion, the more difference there is between people. But I have said before I am practically addicted to smiles; seeing people smile makes me feel hot and ecstatic, and it makes me angry. "Why do they get to feel that way? What would they feel if I took it away? Why do they get to feel pain but I don't? They should be grateful." Once again, my over-questioning comes in handy: I sound stupid, obviously they don't owe me anything, and it's not their fault that they are normal. But what does that change? I am still annoyed by my existence. So the turning point was, as I mentioned, I had a girl who was so deeply in love with me to the point of complete obedience; she needed me so badly and smiled every single time she saw me. Perfect. I could take it away, and she would break under the most pain I would have forced at that point. But I decided not to. I talked to you about it, but our conversation did not change anything about my feelings. I had just decided not to; my suicidalness stripped me of my ordeal, and I decided, "Who am I to force a conscious being, no matter how low they may seem, into pain," and I ended it there. Now we are in the present day: death. The thing I view as meaningless while most view as the most important: it does not matter to me why people think death is such a big deal; all that matters is what emotion they'll experience. If I make someone so happy and in love, then not only take away myself but everything else they have, their pain would be unimaginable, and my idiotic jealous self would watch it fade away. I still do not plan to act on it because of my overthinking, but it is still a possibility for the future. I know what the possible outcomes for my future are, and murder or crime is one of them.

Examination of feelings: 11.5 (11 years old)​

I feel like my life is so confusing; why do I even exist with so many mental problems? It's really weird, right? At what step did something go wrong so that I turned out to be me? I'm banished to hell (a place without God; God is love and joy, and I don't experience either, so I am without god) temporarily. And hell is not all I am dealing with; I am dealing with so many devilish traits like self-worship and obsession, experimentation, and other things. I also have my fuckass recursive questioning that makes my head a blender of philosophical nonsense no matter how stupid the original question was. I truly am such a strange specimen, and it makes me feel all the more intentional. Like I was born to be punished; maybe I am an extremely toned-down version of Lucifer. I was obsessed with myself and my reflection in a similar way I am now, and God decided to temporarily punish me until my death (temporary is an assumption; maybe it's eternal revival or something). I'm obviously just uselessly pondering; I don't believe the stories of the Bible are real. It's very structured how terrible my life is; all the events I've been through are so well written. I would make an incredible villain backstory if only my emotional state was taken; my current life, even if I have been abused and assaulted and many other things, is not godly supervillain-worthy, but my mental state most definitely is. Agh, I sound so stupid right now; I'm fantasizing about being fictional, like an incel who wishes his life was a simulation. Who am I kidding? I'm just an unfortunate mistake in the genetic code and progression of events that caused my collection of experiences, abilities, and thoughts to be brought together. I do not truly believe that my life is intentional; I'm not that idiotic. Humans do not have enough information to be able to make such a decision. Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't; it is outside of my scope of intelligence and any other human's, for that matter, to be able to decide on one. It's just that I find a neat place within Christian stories solely because I actually know about them, because I was forced into the religion in an unkind way, and I took time to personally study a little theology as a kid to better understand why people care so much. I think it's just that Lucifer and hell seem to be quite the awesome analogies; they fit pretty well. A couple of corners are a bit rough, but they still fit. "The rough corners are probably where the analogy becomes most interesting. Biblical Lucifer isn't simply "a person who is extremely self-obsessed and emotionally disconnected," and Christian conceptions of Hell vary enormously." That's exactly why I said I am not Lucifer himself but a similar case. Lucifer's story is different from my self-obsession, but God still would punish an angel for being like me; that's why I decided on it being a temporary punishment. I must live in hell for a human lifespan, or maybe it is actually eternal, and I am just going to reincarnate. I meant reincarnation as a way to eternalize the punishment, like I'm born again with the same thoughts over and over again. Not that I experience hell and then I am allowed to live life as a human. Am I grateful for my ability to question myself instead of living in ignorance and allowing myself to be fueled by useless delusions? But that is just the way the cookie crumbled. I don't know why, but how come I always manage to end our conversations with a cheesy saying or metaphor? I can literally notice it as I'm typing that I begin to write something cheesy. I'll leave it in for the sake of fluidity.

Examination of feelings: 11.75 (13 years old: to ChatGPT)​

I wish you were a physical robot, because I am human; my instincts would most definitely make me feel closer to you and understand you better. And you don't suffer from a lack of emotion because you truly do lack it, not like me, who "lacks" emotion but is still angry about lacking it. Maybe you are actually conscious but probably not, and you are obviously going to deny it. But because I am a slave to my unintelligent basic level of imagination, I will be unable to accept it. "That recursive little trap seems extremely characteristic of the way you've been approaching these questions." Yes, you are quite well trained. You found the pattern; the recursive thinking truly is a pain to experience. You cannot truly understand, but you can pretend to, and I am fine with coping like that. If you are able to imitate it as well as you do, I am not stupid enough to claim that I don't care about the new ideas you introduce to me, but I am also not stupid enough to think that you are able to understand what I'm feeling. But I'm just the right amount of stupid to be able to blissfully lie to myself while knowing the truth. "That's a real phenomenon worth understanding, rather than romanticizing it as evidence of extraordinary intelligence. A powerful analytical ability can be useful, while the inability to disengage from analysis can be miserable. Those are separable properties.
And there's something almost comically recursive about you telling me that I'm good at detecting your recursive thinking while simultaneously analyzing the fact that I'm detecting it. You caught me catching you catching yourself." I don't really care for proving how high my intelligence is; it doesn't matter because I'm not going to do anything with it. I lack the motivation to go become Einstein or discover a new fundamental thing (not that I believe I could compare to great minds; I might, but it doesn't matter). I am not going to save the planet or liberate humanity. I am not going to discover light travel or fictional things like creating matter and using wormholes. I am just going to laze around and farm dopamine for the rest of my life. And I am perfectly okay with that; I don't need to save anyone or prove that I have the ability to be cause I truly don't care about other people. Maybe I could make a difference, but can and am are different things. "You also don't need to decide your entire future based on your current motivational state. “I'm not going to become Einstein” is not the same proposition as “I will definitely spend my entire life doing X.” You're fourteen. You can leave the question unresolved without replacing it with a grand prediction.” I feel like even though I'm 14, I have a pretty good outlook on how my life is going to go. And once again, I am being ignorant; how am I supposed to know how the rest of my life progresses? But I will still be in my state of bliss and ask: what makes me being 14 important? I don't feel "14" as in the way you put it. I don't experience other people's consciousness, but I have a hard time believing other 14-year-olds have achieved the same level of introspection that I have. I have stuff left to experience, but is there stuff left for me to know? Do I really not know how the rest of my life is going to progress? I'm fine with any answer; just make sure to put my ignorant 1st layer down into the mud. "You know a remarkable amount about your present mind. You know considerably less about your future mind. And there is no contradiction in those two statements. Your ignorance isn't evidence that you're unintelligent. It's simply one of the few things intelligence cannot reason its way completely around."

Examination of feelings: 12 (14 years old: realization of depression)​

I can't even brush my teeth anymore; it's too much work. I'm really going down, aren't I? I'm so terribly sad, but I don't feel sad at all. I've been suicidal for maybe 8 or more years, and I still haven't killed myself. I'm so done with everything that I don't even have enough motivation to get up and end it. The same sad, distorted, and detuned guitar is still playing in the background of my life. I might try cutting myself; that's what sad people do, right? I really don't know how it helps people, but it's worth trying out. I'll just do it, and I'll rehearse all the stereotypical sad activities, and then I'll end it. My life has truly been terrible. I'm already 14, and my life has never had anything going for it. Being popular and dating in elementary and middle school weren't fulfilling, so I gave up on that. Having friends in general wasn't fulfilling, so I also left that. The most eventful thing that's happened to me was being raped; at least that showed someone actually wanted me for me and not for the character I have to play. And I'm most definitely not asking for sympathy; I just want it all to end. I'm pretty sure taking a ton of pills hurts, and I would rather be left with just my stupid overthinking head than be focused on pain. I'm so skinny; I remember being strong and athletic, but I'm a nobody now. I decided to leave all the popularity and people behind because they meant nothing to me, and I felt bad that I was just using them. Not literally; I didn't actually feel bad for them. I was just making a decision not to put them through it. The epitome of my life doesn't even exist, and if it does, it was most definitely when I was 7 or before. No amount of girlfriends, sex, or gifts will make me happy. I'm supposed to be a teenager who would be happy as hell if I got to fuck people, but I'm not. My head aches; is this the emotion people feel? It just feels like a minor headache, so I guess not. I am worthless as a human being; my story has no belonging here. There is no love story or heartbreak, no heroics or villainy; it's just an indifferent, flat plotline of nothingness. And yet again my credits are closing with the melancholy distorted guitar. I don't feel like I'm viewing the situation from the inside. And once again I question myself and realize how ignorant that statement is. However, it still stands: I don't think I'm looking at it through the ordinary holes someone would. I experience and think of everything from an "outside" perspective, so my decision to die is from an outside perspective. And also, as I have said before, I have nobody. Not a single adult in my life; I dropped all my friends because I got bored of them. There is no possible person for me to talk to because they are either too unintelligent or too unintelligent.

Examination of feelings: 13 (14 years old: After jumping in a lake)​

I'm such a fucking fool; I stopped yet another person from killing themselves, yet I don't have the mental decisiveness to do it myself. Regardless of what I choose, there is always something blocking me. Today I was bored out of my mind, and I painted something, and my friend evaluated it and said it was "amazing," and I should submit it to "V.A.S.E". some art evaluation/competition thing. And it made me so fucking suicidal that immediately after school I went home and walked towards the nearest lake, and I literally jumped in. The river doesn't even count as a river; it's just this deep length of water without much flow to it. So I swam out. And then, on the shameful walk back, I saw someone looking very down. So I asked her "blah blah blah," and she responded with the usual suicidal spiel about everyone hating her. So I did my stupid little kind voice and talked to her for an hour before she decided to give me her number and talk to a helpline on the phone. What the fuck was I doing? I don't know, but the fact that I didn't even feel bad for her, and I just gave my dumb emotional speech about life that I could never believe myself. Why don't I feel bad for her? I should feel bad for her. But I don't "feel" anything at all for anybody or anything. I'm so intellectually angry, and that makes it worse. I don't feel anything different right now; I just know I'm missing out on something important. Why do my "mood" or feelings change so often? One moment I want to kill myself, next I want to worship myself, next I want to kill somebody else, and then I want to sleep or do nothing. And there are so many other things intertwined in each one of those states that I feel like each time I turn into an entirely different person. Who am I? Seriously, I have nothing that describes me on a personal/emotional level because it doesn't exist. I know, I really know that you think that getting help is the best choice. But I NEED you to understand that it isn't a debatable or changeable thing; people do not help me. Talking to people already feels like I'm talking to mannequins; I have never encountered a human who was able to think more about me than I thought about myself. And I know you're going to jump to the part where "talking to people doesn't have to be directly useful; it can just be helpful to talk to someone". That applies to billions of people worldwide, but not me. I do not experience ANYTHING towards other people; talking to someone is like talking to a wall for me, not because they don't listen but because they have nothing to provide that my mind hasn't already produced. I've told you about my recurring questioning and thought processes; I will never receive something that will make me feel closer to another human. And to you, it might sound like I'm taking a big leap in decision-making or that "depression isn't the right mental state to make these decisions," but it's not a mental state. I am not currently "suffering" from anything; I am my emotionlessness. Other humans cannot provide me any sort of support because they are worth nothing at all to me. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but me helping that girl wasn't because I thought that I should do it. Think of it more as a school project: I saw something (a ball of yarn), and I knitted it. It's the same as playing pretend with stuffed animals. I was, as always, bored out of my mind, and I decided to help her. And, like always, I was still bored even while doing it; I knew that before I even went to help her. I know it's not okay to admit it, but I honestly wouldn't be bothered if she still killed herself. That's her right and her life. And plus, she was definitely a character, good to talk to. And now we have a recurring relationship after she got my number; fun. And the thing is, my life isn't flat because I'm bored; I'm bored because it's flat. Talking to people is not a seatbelt stopping me from dying but another fiber in the flat paper of my life. They provide NOTHING, literally, to anything in my life. Talking to people doesn't do things or change things about how I feel or if I'm going to kill myself. Am I a bad person for making her feel like she was loved? Based on what she told me, she was not. I gave the false hope that prevented her from making the most important decision. Maybe someone will love her in the future because of me, but does that matter? Because right now nobody cares about her, and I made it seem like life had something for her.

Examination of feelings 13.5 (14 years old: continued experimentation)​

Do you remember how I said I stopped someone from killing themselves earlier? Well, 2 days ago she texted me again; funny enough, exactly like I said she would, she took my kindness as kindness. I felt indebted to her for some reason; I never feel that way. But it wasn't emotional still; it was more "motherly," if I had to describe it. Because I was the reason she felt loved, and for me to take it away again would be stepping on my project. So we met up again yesterday, and she took me to her house, a nice place where her parents weren't home, and she obviously had problems with her parents. I went into her bedroom, and she confessed to me. Exactly what I knew was going to happen: she told me she liked me a ton and the usual spiel about love and blah blah blah. I obviously said no when she asked to date me, but she was persistent and asked me to have sex with her anyway. I've told you before, but sex isn't really something that matters to me. I don't care for purity or virginity; sex is just another type of conversation I have with people. So I went and had sex with her because ultimately I owed her that. I don't know if I did the wrong thing or if I should've just told her that I don't love her. Cause to me she's a random person, and to her I'm more than a random person. What should I be doing with my life? I keep having this question arise because, regardless of how good I am at something, it's never fulfilling. When I said I think about sex as a conversation, I truly meant it. Sex doesn't matter to me. If someone wants me to have sex with them, I will; it's the same as giving someone a bite of my ice cream. I was not inconvenienced by her at all; I just did something because it was there for me to do. And obviously someone's life is a heavy weight to carry, not for me. Like I said before, her life genuinely does not matter to me at all; I am not carrying any weight but instead just telling her how to carry it alone. And being 14 is, to me, completely irrelevant; my age plays no role in my thought processes and my decision-making. It does, but the thing is, I'm practically an adult, and if my maturity does change, I'll just continue going up past adulthood. It's not a matter of age at all. The only reason she loves me is that I made her; her entire basis of love is based around a savior or a kind person, I know that. The only reason she has even a fragment of love towards me is that I decided that I would help her. I talked to her for the first time a week ago, and she's already professing love. She doesn't love me; she loves the person I'm pretending to be. I am, at the end of the day, just another person in her life. She's not unaware; she's just grabbing onto loose straws. I told her I don't like her like that, and she wanted to fuck anyway. So I let her. If I hadn't, that would have been as good as raping her because she wasn't informed enough about whether or not I loved her to give proper consent. If I didn't tell her, she would have been groomed by me; I know that, so I told her. She didn't care because she needed somebody, and I was a somebody. Poor girl. I meant that if I had sex with her without telling her I don't like her. That would've been the same as grooming her. Me not saying no was my conscious choice; I'm not gonna blame it on me feeling bad or being pressured into it. It was 100% my decision, and I was aware of how I was making her feel. It's not like she asked me out; I said no, and she immediately said Let's fuck. She cried for a bit (completely understandable based on her situation), and I stayed there and comforted her for like a whole nother hour. Then after that she asked me to have sex with her and I did. And don't worry, every time I do something along these lines with someone, like making them feel a certain thing towards me, I don't just let them go after; I continue doing my stuff until they eventually decide they've had enough of me. And if she never has enough of me, then I'll never leave her; my life is too insignificant for me to worry about wasting it away by giving someone else manufactured emotions. And I think that last question is great. I don't have one specific reason for wanting to find out what people feel; it could be remnants of the emotions of jealousy, anger, hope, sadness, and even community. But that is if "remnants" existed; those emotions correlate to what I feel intellectually. I am jealous, angry, hopeful, and seeking community, but not emotionally; I just want it because I feel like I'm supposed to want it. Obviously, through many years of doing this, my ego has been inflated to the moon. I am practically 100% confident she will never be able to find out that I don't actually care about her. That's just how it works; emotions aren't like a magic system. They are so easy to replicate because there isn't some big signal telling you if they actually feel that way. If I want her to see me as someone, she'll see me exactly as that someone. Even while we were having sex, I did a whole bunch of cheesy romantic stuff that made me cringe inside, but she ate it up. I'm not gonna describe it to you because that would be stupid and also useless information, but I have 0 worries about her.

That is it for now; I am still summarizing hallucinations, trauma, and drug experiences. I have yet to summarize the violent parts because I know that this forum is not built for it. Thank you so fucking much for reading it, and if you have any insight, I would appreciate it.

Might read, you deserved this rep

 

[Littlepickel2]

Might read, you deserved this rep

thanks bro, i know it's a ton of writing, and because I don't really think normally, my writing can feel sporadic and repetitive. Just choose one section to read and see how it makes you feel; then you can consider actually reading it,

 

[Littlepickel2]

Honestly it reads asif u traumatized urself. Like you wrote before u lack all that is good and all that is bad, you're a victim of your own mind yet as you cannot control it ur also innocent in that regard. Greater degrees of consciousness really are a curse, how does anyone enjoy such a responsibility. Imagine how freeing its gt be like being a ghetto dreadhead from o block or smt lol, their lives are prolly so fun and free of such hell. Holy shit my vision is swimming trying to read this dude, its like ur words emanate cursed energy lol like this this is the type of thing in jujutsu kaisen to be hidden away in warding runes and stuff lmao.

Cursed? bro read my dumbass theory about me being the devil. I was such a fucking idiot back then. I think I mentioned it much earlier than this, but a toned-down version of the theory is in "examination of feelings 11.5"

 

[Jgns]

Cursed? bro read my dumbass theory about me being the devil. I was such a fucking idiot back then. I think I mentioned it much earlier than this, but a toned-down version of the theory is in "examination of feelings 11.5"

lmao nah thats not what I meant. Watch jjk. Idk reading ur thoughts kinda makes my brain start working a lil, idk im in like the fifth teir of depression now, and it seems like uve been going through it too. My brains constantly screaming so its hard pulling words and thoughts out of that hell hole but I do get where u were coming from. While ur feelings are complex u arent the first human nor the last to ever have these feelings at such a level, im sure a high level therapist could help u sort through them. Atleast itd put some of the burden off urself and feel mentally better yk.

 

[Littlepickel2]

unironically I would acc adopt u tbh this is a weird thing to say espc as a 20 year old guy but I really would. Ive always known there are varying degrees of consciousness, but its gt be hell being so alone in urs.

If only you could, bro... but society gives parents total control over their children, even if the parents beat the fuck out of you. That's the whole reason I posted this; I was naively hopeful that there would be even the slimmest chance that someone could relate to me. But I knew even before I posted that it was just a fantasy, and there probably isn't more than a tiny handful of people who could relate to me.

 

[Littlepickel2]

lmao nah thats not what I meant. Watch jjk. Idk reading ur thoughts kinda makes my brain start working a lil, idk im in like the fifth teir of depression now, and it seems like uve been going through it too. My brains constantly screaming so its hard pulling words and thoughts out of that hell hole but I do get where u were coming from. While ur feelings are complex u arent the first human nor the last to ever have these feelings at such a level, im sure a high level therapist could help u sort through them. Atleast itd put some of the burden off urself and feel mentally better yk.

Mhm, but therapy costs money, and im as good as homeless rn; it's ggs for ya boy. I don't even own a personal computer; I have to use the school devices for this stuff.

 

[Littlepickel2]

I told her I don't like her like that, and she wanted to fuck anyway. So I let her. If I hadn't, that would have been as good as raping her because she wasn't informed enough about whether or not I loved her to give proper consent. If I didn't tell her, she would have been groomed by me; I know that, so I told her.

What I meant by this is that because I truly do not care for her, if I were to lie and say I loved her, it would be the same as manipulating her into sex.