The failure of one community almost 20 years ago lead to me coming here in the first place. It was traumatic to lose all that, and my friends there. Some of them are here but we don't talk anymore.

I saw the redirect to some cesspool of hatred and the other hiccups. Brought up fear in me. Being weird is terrifying. Especially when you're young and small and all you have is your tiny little island of acceptance. And anyone else that knows wants to hurt you. That's been buried for so long being on this safe stable island that I about forgot it existed.

The hiccups are causing people to provide avenues for users to follow them on other platforms, as if before some cataclysm. I don't read the forums or the chats or whatever. I'm learning by only reading journals. I don't really know what's going on. But the fear is real for other furs.

I don't think FA will fail. It is a staple for a community with a pretty good amout of money and a good deal of smart and benevolent people. If one person was a keystone to the whole thing, Im sure that the torch can be picked up. FA seems to be simple compared to other sites. It's easy to say there's something great going on here and the clout of being in charge here would be insane, weilded smartly. Dragoneer was a hell of a benefactor.

I forsee, at worst, a slow death brought on by a sell-off to some big company that tries to pay wall and monetize every aspect worth seeing. Even if it ends up like this a little bit, I can understand. I almost never do nice things for free anymore as that's basically my entire business. Doing nice things for people and getting paid for it.

Even if FA does somehow become a pixel stain on the wall of the internet, it's not likely that you're going to want to follow me anyway where I go. I'm not so sure I'd continue with the furry community at all. I'm a busy dad with a goldfish attention span and my own business to run. Social acceptance and artistic exploration are the last things on my mind. I'll miss you all, but in the meantime I think we're gonna be here awhile.

Since I have no other real form of documenting my life and my friend circle keeps getting smaller and smaller and smaller...

Tool obsession is still in full swing. Last summer and fall it was ladders. Since then it's mostly nail guns. Went from zero working examples to a high 2 days ago of 6. 2 framing nailers, a 16 gauge finish nailer, 18 gauge trim nailer and 2 18 gauge narrow crown staple guns. One of the staple guns blew up a plastic part inside so we're down to 5 but parts are on the way. I only paid money for the 18ga brad nailer which is a cordless Dewalt. The others have all needed some kind of work. But beats buying new. All nice Bostitch or Paslode. Worth fixing.

Nail guns are absolutely essential if you're building anything quickly. The concept of driving a nail with a hammer is antiquated and ineffective for most tasks. The staple guns are my favorite. Those little sum bitches hold.

I now have a veritable arsenal for cleaning windows. 30 ft, 12 ft, 2ft poles, squeegees, applicators etc. I've only broken even on the equipment but it's a fantastic way to make rate without having to bring soooooooooooo many tools like with other stuff. It's also very satisfying.

Add to that, drywall patching tools. Although it still scares the shit out of me and I haven't done it. The places I needed to do it, a contractor had to replace windows and doors first.

Since December I've been constantly under the weather. Got covid and was struggling with low energy all January. Got some kind of cold or flu , was barely recovered from that and had two teeth removed to make room for orthodontic work. Made me very nauseous and it was painful both having it done and in recovery. That led to an infection that was pretty painful, took a lot of painkillers, which made me nauseous, but was remedied by antibiotics that also made me nauseous. So now that I'm recovered from that, Ive been having migraines (whiich make me nauseous) and the gator pup went to the hospital with a 104 fever from influenza B, so it's only a matter of time before I get it. (He's ok)

It's a miracle I've been able to keep money coming in to keep the lights on, but somehow I've done it. Cherish your health, if you have it!

The kid slept zero hours last night. I slept about two. But I run on a deficit. So that flattened me.

I had been up late, staged a ladder and materials for a job. I put the materials (dowels and door thresholds, behind the ladder. Could not find the materials all morning, by the time I ate lunch and found the materials in this stupid smart spot, the day was F'd.

So I watched the kiddo, drank beer, cooked, watched a mixture of Baby Einstein and Hap Palmer https://youtu.be/H2wsrlkem5Q?si=TWUbUgL5MbZfDDet while mom did her jobs.

Then eventually switched to Inuyasha, an old, guilty favorite I used to watch on Adult Swim. The kiddo mostly ignores it. It's kind of scary and violent. We were also dabbling in The New Adventures of Winnie-the-Pooh and Duck Tales for the last couple of weeks. He kina ignores that too. He does do a little butt shaking dance to the Pooh bear theme.

Despite falling a little behind financially not working every day, I finally got my dump truck running and am getting caught up on firewood, scrap, trash removal and recycling. Ever seen 6 queen mattresses stacked up going down the road? Hopefully you don't. All the old boxes and fixtures from my old house I broke them down and pulled the copper wire pigtails out of them (ten years later), couple 55 gallon garbage cans of mixed now sorted into 5 gallon buckets.

All in all, small successes achieved when not working, enough business to pay the bills and lots of time to spend with the kid and rot my brain with nostalgic tv, and the freedom to do it.

If you've been here for 15 years or more, you what I'm talking about.

They were sort of viral, a pain in the ass to fill out, and had nothing to do with funny pictures with words on them.

But they harkened from a simpler time when FA was almost exactly the same as it is now but not as old.

I miss them and their tasty tidbits of meat they provided my character stalking gator jaws. I miss them for their time wasting reading. I miss partially filling "a really long one" out on a tab in class then losing it when the laptop ran out of batteries and rebooted. I remember how social and connected they made me feel reading and sharing them even though my puny reach still is dwarfed by many.

I think they could be really useful for something of the same format to be used for artists writers and musicians to reflect, share and curate their works (as well as connecting with their followers) in a different way than through tagging or folders. Writers especially may have way more provenance to a story than an art piece.

The application temperature window of multiple types of stain, paint, and asphalt sealer ends at 50 degrees average temp. Everyone wants it done "before winter".

My handyman business is successful, plenty of work lined up. Not to say that it isn't extremely challenging and draining. Everyone needs something and needs it now. You have to play favorites almost to parse your time. Especially because we are trying to avoid paying for child care and I spend lots of time with the Lil gator pup.

I've gotten nearly zero personal projects done. Broken equipment for the farm. Firewood for winter. Writing. Organizing. Fun.

I wish I had made the switch sooner, I might be in better shape with the queue and with stress.

This morning I texted a good friend to check in on them. His wife texted back he'd passed away. He had 6 kids and was very young. Really devastating. I was only kind of a fringe friend I didn't know until a month later. We would trade tools, truck parts and advice, tires, and he's got an entire truck sitting at my place. All I know it was some terrible accident but the family is fine. Way, way too soon for way too good of a guy.

Next, reeling a bit from that, I'm seeing that another friend https://www.furaffinity.net/user/sickdragon is going off into delete land including IMs all dead stick. I hope he's going to be okay. We would talk trucks and art and I had been working on a collaborative story with his character. I guess I'll continue in his honor.

Gave unofficial notice with the office ball and chain three weeks ago. I left it up to them as to when I would be done as a gesture to offer time to get a replacement for my client. Like my raise they didn't seem to register this request either and have done nothing. Mentally I'm hoping this helps buck my normal confirmation bias that I didn't succeed because I'm a terrible person. I'm looking for a good reason to leave my computer on their doorstep.

I'm transitioning to full time "handyman" work.

While on the last day of a large job I fell off of a ladder from 8 ft. I landed on my feet but off balance and crumpled down and hit packed limestone. Busted up my face from my glasses smashing into my eye socket and rashed up my left palm. Bled a lot. Bent heck out of glasses. Got the rest of the dirt out of my face injury today finally. I'm pretty lucky it wasn't worse, but extremely sore. Not a good way to begin a new career by getting hurt.

My hope is, with the higher hourly rate I can work less overall hours and focus more on myself and the family, my place, and some art, writing and other hobbies for once possibly.

It maybe even allow me to leverage a pretty good living. So far I don't have to advertise and I have at least this entire year booked.

As a person who has to write things and be in front of a computer for immense spans of time against my will for a financial pittance, I've had to adapt to things that humanity shouldn't have to adapt to.

Eventually, music and even voice becomes too grating to listen. You begin to search for something, somehow that helps pass the time and allows you to exist, and not exist at the same time. More than anything, continue to allow you to do what you need to do. Perhaps i might be transported to a calm place in the past that might feel more at home.

I had explored mallsoft for a long time that combined vapowave with ambient that really had some interesting vibes.

While consuming that genre, I found this wonderful thing that i didn't know i was thirsting for, which is muzak.

The channel below is a treasure trove of old muzak peserved by a fellow furry, Fardemark (one of us!) in all of its scratchy analog glory on vintage equipment. This music rings from the 60s 70s and 80s as background music on elevators, lobbies and supermarkets and really transports you back to mundane. Yet, it is somehow notable and impactful as a memory you could have had; from time you didn't even experience.

Worth checking out and a listen (in the background, of course.) I like it for production work.

https://youtube.com/@Fardemark

One of my reasons for being an alligator is my lesser form has crooked ass teeth. While those crooked teeth weren't that bad in the grand scheme, they caused pain and weird jaw stuff. Like, I drink from the side of my mouth instead of the front with cans and bottles. To actually bite anything I have to move the jaw way forward. And this is just a couple weird adaptations. Causing some tooth wear like a farm aminal also.

I have trouble with migraines. While I have adapted well and didn't have TMJ (clickey crunchety jaw bone) I feel like this jaw stuff possibly contributed to the headaches and fatigue. Not to mention my famous brand of poisionously low self esteem.

The stars aligned and I finally got the tax free medical savings to do something. While the "perfect" solution involved jaw surgery, we started with partial braces and hopefully can get there without cutting stuff.

Braces are sharp and also make it very hard and unpleasant to eat, something I do pretty much whenever possible. Even my alcoholism is affected if I want to use Tylenol and not kill myself faster.

So now I've got partial braces going on as of today, and sleeping has caused pressure on the sides of my face, which cut holes in in the side of my mouth. I left the wax to keep them from doing that in the vehicle. So instead of waking up the whole house at 4am I'm trying to go back to sleep for a bit with bleedy hamburglar mouth.

In lieu of oversharing and regularly scheduled nihilism, I have three things to share without my standard over-overness

1. I'm a dad now. Everything is fine and everyone is healthy so far.

2. Work has dialed back the stress. I sold some stuff so I'm able to subsist without side work for a bit. Working on getting parts trucks home to fix the broken ones. Non baby/household/farm chores time has been eaten by dinking with trucks in the snow.

3. I'm working on getting another writing laptop going. I'm going to try a Chrome book.

Have a request to collab a story with  Sick_dragon that will be on the front burner.

I keep trying to write my thoughts out lately and it just doesn't happen. Yesterday spent a good chunk of time writing something. Ditched it.

My girlfriend and I are expecting in January. It's been very hard on me. We were in the process of breaking up when it happened. We're still living together and everything is OK with the pregnancy but, it's Def conflicted.

I'm extremely uneasy, burnt out, angry, on edge. I absolutely cannot ground myself. Been having more frequent migraines and my skin has really went to hell from the stress. Sometimes it's painful enough where I have trouble sleeping or sitting still.

Got put on a super hard project at work and it's out of my realm of patience, and im applying for jobs because I haven't been given a raise since 2018. Both of my vehicles are broken down, the tractor I use to feed the horses in the winter is broken down, my parents need help, I've overscheduled myself with side work.

I'll somehow make it though it, it helps to lay it out.

I could catch up on all the cartoons and movies I missed in the early 90s when I wanted to live. Like If I was in a terrible accident and all the mountains of strength and responsibility gave way to nothing, I would go there and melt into oblivion.

My last cell phone was a brick of iron. The case and gravel dust did more damage to it than many drops and the hardest use imaginable since 2016. I used it with no case for a long time probably 3 years. It was the pinnacle of functionality for me. Did everything I needed it to do. Didn't cost a lot and the functionality was chiseled into my muscle memory. In fact, I still use it daily as it is the only thing I have hooked up to Facebook.

But about 6 or 8 months ago the camera broke. It didn't receive a direct blow or drop. It just stopped. Only the selfie camera worked.

As a creature of immense habit. I might have taken 30-60 photos a month. Cats, things I hauled, broken parts, completed jobs. Moments I thought were cool.

But when that capacity all but evaporated, things changed. It was a chore to line up a selfie camera on a subject that wasn't me. I found myself stopping myself from wanting to take photos. My photos went from 20 to 10 to 5 and then zero. It was no longer easy or useful.

Now, you'd think that new phone... pictures are easy again right? Back to old habits?

No. The photo gadget is busted. I don't care to do it even though for some things I should, like selling truck parts even. It's like a feature of my biology has been cut off and scabbed over and now I've adapted new ways to get by.

In that process somehow something else was taken, and that was probably my most tangible
personal way of appreciating the moment, and sharing the moment. I had little victories I could document and look at later. And little moments where life is beautiful. Instead of that moment to take the picture to appreciate and document...

So I know most people are here for the furry porn but I'm going to share some pictures to my scraps to try and appreciate more and get back in the habit of documenting.

Luck Be A Weirdo Tonight Fila Brazilla

https://youtube.com/playlist?list=O.....kdUrrxwcfbA_IM

It turns 25 today.

While yes, the album Mess hooked me with Soft Music Under the Stars,

https://youtube.com/playlist?list=O.....N10pL_fo7ZoAC0

Luck Be A Weirdo held me tight.

My favorite track is probably Weasel Out the Muck, but by a narrow margin.

So I'll paraphrase this journal and many others with saying I will open one of these up and type unworthy thoughts into it very frequently and fall asleep, read it in the morning and delete it. Or just delete and not read it.

Don't know where else to go with this stuff. And there is a certain level of lucidity that it has to meet. Not half banged up drunk, completely exhausted mind stumble as I pray for sleep.

A lot has happened, and I won't go into it, but instead of getting easier, life got harder...

Take care of yourself. That was the culmination of my last psychologist appointment. Lots of wild shit happened, don't have a mental exercise for that. Take care of yourself.

So much easier said than done. Muscle memory for self destruction remains.

I met a new friend.

This new friend through getting to know each other, reminded me of something I dealt with in my childhood that I really, really struggled with, all the way up until I was in college. They also faced the same struggle. Something that was the absolute bane of my existence and drove me into introversion so hard...

Course this mention gave me flashbacks to "Nam." Had buried it deep enough for it to not come up in psychology appointments or anything... because thankfully, that nightmare is over, but it did hurt to remember.

Just like, all the missed opportunities, the shame and other stuff because of the problem, how it undoubtedly shaped my self worth to be very low because I had no control, how it made my social awkwardness worse and made me only want to spend time with animals and my siblings instead of making friends. Like, if you watched the latest episodes of Stranger Things, this would be what Vekna (sp?) would attack me with if I was a troubled teen in Hawkins.

But this friend... Their brain lensed it somehow into the most positive thing you could possibly get from it. They like, accepted it and made it a part of themselves and used it to connect with other people even.

Imagine that, two lives on a parallel with a similar challenge, one an abject horror that perpetuated so much suffering... and the other, while not ideal, same problem: but it ends up being something they use like a superpower in comparison to the other.

Perspectives.

Choice Point meditation and general use doctrine states that you use

Values

to filter noise to make decisions based on your values

As simple as that. So a very intimate and robust relationship with values must be established to be able to make short term and long term decisions.

It becomes an interesting conundrum when you add different shifts to different values. I like to give pleasure. I work in customer service writing, I'm always hoping the customer can find the information they need when navigating their less than intuitive software. I am turned on by giving pleasure in the bedroom. Love to cook and share delicious food. Love to fix things people find frustrating in their homes. Have been meditating quite a bit about how this one value drives my other values.

By and by if I'm alone, I'm usually suffering. I drink shitty beer, pick my skin, don't bathe much, if I do pleasure myself it sometimes ends up being something cringeworthy but so far hasn't landed me in the hospital yet. It becomes a bare minimum that I exist. I don't seem to be adept at self reward. I rely on others to give or to expose me to the reward or drive me to self care.

That's not a value. That's a personality defect. Or, noise on the choice point.

I value pleasure. Happiness. But I seem to be incapable of finding it on my own on a consistent basis. The antecedent to giving others pleasure is I hate drama. I like my relationships to be stable and understanding and predictable. People who are not stable elicit rage in me pretty easily.

So pleasure, happiness. No drama.

The next is the control realm. Sentience. Using tools to achieve means, capabilities. Problem solving. I'm a huge lover of tools and machinery, cars and trucks. This brings me pleasure, brings me money. I spend a lot of money on tools and time using and working on them. If no other self allowable pleasure, this is it. Every problem has a tool that will solve it. If I cannot afford the tool or don't have the time to use inferior tools to solve the chaos, it's upsetting.

This doesn't mean I'm a control freak socially... I tend to be very nurturing to people who are making rational positive choices. People who are making poor chaotic choices upset me. It must upset others that my own poor behavior choices while I'm alone/sick/despairing.

Thanks for listening, no response is expected. Im trying to understand how my tangible value set perpetuates self harm, depression, and negativity, and establishing what my values are for use in further exploration.

After researching my perceived condition from the last psych appointment, I pretty much came to the conclusion that I didn't have that (experiential avoidance).

It's the one thing that everyone thinks they have on the outset because everyone avoids or procrastinates about something. But unless it's harmful or defineable it's not necessarily treatable. It's almost defined like a non-categorized phobia. Normal avoidance is either rational or more likely a symptom of a personality mode such as introversion or a disorder such as depression. The psychologist did agree with my assessment of it and really didn't have much to add.

To come to that conclusion, I did some research online about the malady itself and compared it to me. I avoid some uncomfortable situations, I'm extremely rational and don't irrationally or obsessively avoid anything. In fact I'm almost rational to a fault. Besides avoiding exercise and self care, I pretty much just do what I have to do to to be a continuing semi successful life unit despite intermittent suffering. Most of my symptoms point to simple depression.

My therapist and I agreed that I would try some meditation and use a model for decision making to help guide it. The guide is called the Choice Point by Dr. Russ Harris. I'm not going to go into detail on it but basically it's a very simple guide for making decisions.

Which sounded great at first. Sit and meditate and/or ponder with a goal helping shape life decisions. Or not, as meditation generally isn't supposed to be high pressure. But part of the challenge my values should shape those decisions.

Thus begins the oftentimes dark task of evaluating values... To evaluate and execute decisions.

Like... This truck engine project that seems to only be more and more stalled out. I had rigged up a parts washer pump to clean parts out of an old fuel pump. The fuel pump failed. Tried to find a different pump, and the pumps I had were all broken except one, which I needed for brewery/winery operations. Not going to run dirty kerosene through that and wine later...

So getting the pump going I decided to work in my home brewery for a few hours which I hadn't done for years instead of working on the engines. Bottled 5 gallons and prepared 16 gallons of wine and beer for bottling.

Using the work on it for 5 minutes and stop if you don't like it and an hour if you do...

Had someone watch me awhile ago and their profile bio literally held the phrase "fuck your truck."

I get it, in the context that you said it. But if you happen to read this, sorry bro, this is about a truck.

Been absolutely choking on 4 engines in my basement lately. One smack in the middle of the garage where Moses has parted valleys of trash, where I can park and work on a vehicle. So I need to break the engines down into good parts and bad parts and hope I can get one together and get rid of unusable junk, sell the rest. The particular engines I'm tearing down are extremely prone to cracking, so you can easily see the issues but takes hours to get to that point. Especially to separate the aluminum from the cast to get better scrap price. And because using the cracked parts is asking for trouble. I still haven't finished one yet. Started 3 years ago.

So here's about the most unsexy thing in the entire world. Taking apart a chunk of trash, getting covered in diesel oil, for little to no benefit whatsoever. Diesel oil is nasty. So you use rubber gloves. Everything becomes a shade of fingerprinted black anyways. Everything you take off is black and everything it is set on it leaks on/turns black..

Meanwhile my truck begins to show signs of a blown head gasket. Which means i should technically be building an engine anyways. But, I lose my one roadworthy vehicle. Nice. All while dealing with crippling anxiety, limited space, the potential that the truck isn't worth fixing in the first place.

So I'm busy, to say at the least. Going to be a financially and temporally intensive couple months.

My psychologist and I found a vein... An interesting one. He only said what it was after I described the absolute barfworthy trip an average workday is for me... After bitching about the GF for 45 minutes of the hour session.

I had an aha moment when he listed a couple things about what it could be. Its called experiential avoidance. It's a disorder that causes someone to avoid activities or feelings that give them anxiety or discomfort, to a net detrimental effect.

For me, many things elicit this... Avoidant reaction. The behavior can create vicious cycles, hold you back from positive experiences and deepen trauma due to not dealing with it.

I had come up with a similar journey in not so clear of terms, being honest with myself. An attempt to understand why so many things feel bad. An attempt to accept how I feel and move on from things that bug me. The disorder description seems like it describes perfectly many of the self harming things I do, that are rooted in avoiding something else that's not always clear in years of hindsight.

Haven't started yet to read into this disorder deeply. I feel like it is likely going to be "it" and where it's going to get hard. I'm a little afraid to make the plunge and begin to read about it. But I'm hopeful that when I'm ready there'll be steps to take in the right direction.

Looking forward to:

3 art commissions!

A raft of new tools to work with for me to help myself and my customers.

Lots of new parts to put on the truck.

Several projects for myself like a grapple bucket for the skid steer.

Spring


Not looking forward to:

Friends mom died of cancer yesterday.

Breaking up with the girlfriend.

Mud season.

Being completely honest with myself.

I think I'm out of the woods depression wise.. have not had any significant self harm or extremely dark thoughts for a week now. I am pretty paranoid and angry at times but am back to 80% physically and mentally.

Thanks everyone who reached out and helped me. Sorry I'm that guy...

Building done at my parents and I'm doing side work again and working on mechanical stuff again.

I came from a deeper part of the onion of subcultures.

When it was too deep, I went one layer up, less true to to my dementia but more satiable.

When it wasn't deep enough, I crawled back a layer and all the people I knew from the first layer were gone. No one picked up the phone, answered emails or anything. But I understood their choice that once the layer is left, hard to trust anymore. After a few very deep friendships were broken, I decided to try to forget that part of my life as I navigated it, through them.

So here I was to stay I guess. Then, I was away here kina of; round seven years give or take, work, life a relationship, a house built. Many people were gone, but most of the ones that mattered stayed. As superficial as some of the friendships were, it still sucks to feel how quiet it is here compared to what I remember. I still have made very strong friendships here, whom I'm very thankful for, that don't judge me based on my commitment to a subculture (or not).

Last few days have been rocky. Health is in the gutter, weather is bad, relationship is falling apart, and despite being surrounded I feel extremely lonely. My friends here in IRL land are scared to death of me because I have been perpetually sick for weeks, and in my age group everyone has ailing parents, COVID is real... So mindless revelry and helping them with stuff has not been partaken and shielded me from myself.

I read back through some of my oldest tangible writing and one theme jumps out at me and scares me real bad. Pushing 20 years now I'm just a very conflicted, sad individual. Too much of a pussy to kill myself, not enough of a whizzard to actually find a way out. Always hoping in probably the most effeminate helpless way possible that love is going to rescue me or in place of that, materialism or shards of shallow intimacy will free the pressure.

The scary thing I found in the distillate is my mental maturity has grown extremely little. I have to consider that I am this way. That is a horrible thing to wish on anyone to live or feel like this. The notion struck me that hope isn't going to bend away a real construct anymore. After coming to that conclusion I was fucking floored for lack of a better term, got super dizzy and sick to my stomach.

I'm literally going to have to become an entirely different person to escape this.

Progress on the metal building is slow. Dad and I spent all the day before yesterday pulling up the bottoms of all the tin, inserting insulation strips and screwing it back down as we'd forgotten them when we put the tin up. It was super windy and just above freezing so super muddy. Dad laid on the ground on cardboard and pushed the strips in with plastic shims and I unscrewed, screwed and moved the cardboard, shims, strips and others tools so he wasn't getting up and down off the ground.

I thought I was over this horrible cold cough thing that's lad me down for 2 or 3 weeks. About yesterday midnight I was having gastro mayhem that tp could not help, then barfed. All day in bed with a fever and extreme joint pain and migraine like eye pressure that made movies or phone pretty painful. Otc meds helped a little bit, I think I slept an hour and besides just laid cocooned and suffering for hours.

Today's a better day, maybe I'll be able to do something.

The tiny fragments of affection I had for this species, the draw, has really elevated recently. As a certified weirdo, I had seen their form as an ideal that fit certain sockets in the grey matter.

In a quest to understand the species for a story I've been writing, I've expected to find brutal monsters, both in practice of day life and mating. Quick, universally understood brutal mating that ends up just being a disappointing shitshow (see bovines and cervidae)

Instead they are complex. Very courtship oriented, and more over, anatomically mysterious. Mysterious enough that there are scientists (plural, note) that are writing papers (plural, note) stabbing guesses with expensive medical equipment trying to understand what that gator dick do. It's fascinating and, frustrating, because we don't know what exactly it does, and can only theorize how it even comes out.

How do you purvey something so complicated to a layperson? What liberties do you take with anthromorpholgy to a biological construct intriguing? Be easy to write it under the rug with a half human member down there.

I don't know. I'm over my cold/covid/black death now probably... will be a busy day... A tree to remove from a house and tin to hang on a steel building...

I have been regressing. Last week or so I feel like I can't stand to be in my own skin. Help from a friend from here helped me through the worst of it. When I'm really bad, I'll open one of these journal tabs and maybe write, or not. I think the amount of what actually makes it is a fraction of what does. Thank goodness almost nobody reads this.

Have been reaching out to people trying to help or offer my genuine feelings. Helped a guy who was almost homeless keep a hotel room so he didn't have to live in his truck. Helped a photographer friend get his camera out of pawn. Sent a message to someone who said they were depressed. Spent 4 days helping my parents on their farm put up a steel building a process firewood, and clean up where the snow plow goes. Parents already deducted a hefty sum from I owe them for the help.

I got a shred of libido back, perhaps from skipping medicine and an impenetrable mind haze that doesn't allow me to focus on my remote job at any degree that makes me worth my meager wage anyways. I am not sure if I relish it or its just part of the spiral. What I do with that shred never seems healthy. But like stress eating, it passes the time.