Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? WHY?
I'm sweating, I should take a shower, but for what purpose? It's really cliché, really. A guy, thinking to himself that he has a mental breakdown, writing it on the internet.
ARGH!
I just can't write my thoughts down fast enough.
Fuck. FUCK.
Yes, my brain is talking to YOU right now, or at least it wishes it could. Damn it.
I know this is redundant, but damn it, damm it, DAMM IT!
Ok.
One thing at a time.
Why. Why am I aware of myself? Why? All my fucking flaws, I know a should work on them, but half the time, I feel I'm on autopilot, and I can only watch myself in the backseat making all sorts of bad decision. OH WHOE IS ME WHO CAN'T EVEN FIX A PROBLEM AS SIMPLE AS PROCRASTINATION. 1st world problems up the wazoo in my fucking brain.
Why am I even writing this? Nobody fucking cares about problems in my brain! NO. FUCKING. BODY. Cuz' you can't! You can't know what exactly makes me miserable! Like that recent joke on SMBC!
http://www.smbc-comics.com/index.php?db=comics&id=2612#comic
GOD! Fucking GOD! Yes, my brain believes in god. It needs to believe in something, otherwise I'd just kill myself right now. I know rationally that God may not exist, but my brain consciously took the decision to believe in him, and by proxy, or not since I AM my brain, I do believe in god. Believe it or not, god isn't even in this thought process right now, because he won't fucking talk to me like my brain wishes him to do, because we all have these little fantasies that money will just appear out of nowhere and we'll be ok for the rest of our lives, or that it would so be cool if he allowed us to have our own little universe where we could do whatever the fuck we want, or just something as dumb as flying or going invisible, or just being SOMETHING else for a day, because I'm really tired of this nervous system of mine, I'd wish I could just experience what it'd be to be an animal or a cool monster for a day or a week. Don't tell me you never thought of that. Yeah really going on a tangent but the brain is like that, and mine is hyperactive right now, explaining the lack of new paragraph, anyway, that might explain my multiple sexual fetishes.
I'm a 19 year-old Caucasian straight male, and perfectly capable to get-off looking at an image of a Caucasian straight or bisexual female with a nice bust (NOTHING TO DO WITH HOW I ACTUALLY VIEW WOMEN WHICH I HIGHLY RESPECT, NOT THAT YOU CARE YOU STUPID **** (sorry about that, never said I'd sensor myself.)) but my "thirst" for being able to get my "brain" to be wired to a different nervous system makes me have fantasies about (in no special order): being a woman, being an animal, being a monster (werewolf, godzilla, ect.), being an inanimate object, being a free consciousness, being an inanimate object, being a consciousness in someone else's brain, being a ghost, being god, living in the actual internet as a consciousness, and many more, a lot of which are related to some of my sexual fetishes (as in, I don't need those to get off, but I "sometimes" find it hot) including but not exclusively: furry, pawn, growth, inflation, transformation, bondage and a few other, but it's not important, and I'm glad if you don't know any of these. Anyway, it seems my fetishes change by the day, and it's not uncommon for me to, uh, understand how something (a fetish) might be attractive and to adopt it. I know there's a uniting characteristic somewhere in this last paragraph, but I don't know. Fuck. Nobody would be interested in this. I hope you skipped this. Fuck. I hate how I can't just make a brainlog and print everything contained in my brain. Someday, maybe. I know tech similar to this is being developed.
Brainlog, I think it's gonna be the name of the thread.
Damn it, DAMMIT. My brain says that a lot. Fuck.
I guess it's so fucking typical what I write, and since pretty much every human being is similar at like fucking 99.9% on a genetic level, EVERYONE MUST HAVE THOUGHT WHAT I'M THINGKING RIGHT NOW, EH? FUCKING HELL.
My body is a prison, which I can't escape until I die. My consciousness is trapped in the biological organ that is my brain, knowing of its own existence, but not being able to escape instinct, what it dictate itself.
BUT WHO CARES, RIGHT?
Just, just give me a thought for 30 seconds, ok? Just acknowledge that I exist, that everything isn't just the product of my own brain, and your work here will be done, if you wish.
Talking about killing myself, my consciousness, binded to both my instinct and my rationally, couldn't ever bring itself to cease its own existence. One, because my instinct would stop me mechanically from doing so, by mere reflex, like putting your hand on a hot stove, where it tells me I couldn't bear the physical pain, and two, because my rational side tells me that my family would suffer too greatly, as we have already lost my dear father 6 months ago. I was afraid of losing someone before, and know I really know how it actually is to lose your best friend and your father at once. I fucking loved him, but believe it or not, it still has nothing to do with my current braindump. No.
This shit, these thoughts, I've been having them for at least 10 years. Maybe less, but who cares.
Yeah, so.
Like I said, sometimes, I feel like I'm not behind the wheel. Like I can't control myself, to do certain tasks. I know my brain is still in control, I'm not psychotic, at least as far as I know, but I think it's far too easy for myself to just say: "Fuck it, I'll do something that's fun" instead of doing actual work.
God, I wish I'd meet someone nice. Fuck, that's another big set of problems, isn't it?
Maybe the problem will just go away when a certain criteria in my life will be fulfilled?
Like, having a girlfriend, actually having sex with someone (19 and virgin, oh boy, am I right?), or punching the one guy I really, really hate because he made me miserable during Highschool? Have any fucking suggestions, genius? Was kinda talking to my own brain, there. Didn't you notice?
Fuck, I really wish I could talk to someone about sexual matters that wouldn't be judgemental. Someone I'd know in real life, but surprisingly, even thought I'd say pretty much everyone I know are very open-minded, I guess it's a residue of the old generation that everything remotely sexual outside of simply having sex (porn, fetishes, fantasies) is considered taboo. I think I have a lot of tension building up relative to that. Like I said, I can get off the old fashioned way, no problem there whatsoever, but I'd like to just talk about my fetishes, my fantasies, but it's like trying to explain a dream, isn't it? Most of the time, you just try to leave the most embarrassing parts out because you know the other person won't understand.
Jesus.
I know it's a fucking first world problem that I procrastinate, and that's what makes me miserable, as I feel I'm weak. SPENCER CAN'T EVEN STOP PROCRASTINATING, WHAT A LOSER, am I right? People always tell me what I SHOULD DO, but I ALREADY FUCKING KNOW THAT, IT'S THE PROBLEM! I know, yet I can't, most of the time. I feel like a failure, because I was born in the best environment ever to become a productive member of society, yet here am I'm, not even being able to take care of himself properly half of the time, even though I have no physical or mental handicap. I don't have an excuse.
Geez, I don't think I'd want my family to read this. They wouldn't know how to handle it.
Ah, I don't know. Why would I even be posting it here? Maybe in a feeble attempt to connect with other minds, give a glance of a reflection of my soul for other consciousness to inspect. Maybe if this is just a percent of a percent of my brain that is visible to you, I'd still like you to be able to know a percent of a percent of who I am.
I don't know what to do. Anything you'd tell me to do, I would probably agree that it's the logical choice, but my brain is just one lazy bastard. But I AM MY BRAIN, aren't I? Why is my consciousness and my biological self one and the same, yet one doesn't follow the wishes of the other?
God damn it, I hate myself.
I think even if I was anyone else, I'd hate myself. I think hating oneself is like a default state of being. I don't hate my body, or my brain, or my flaws, I've accepted them. Yet, I just hate the simple existence of my own awareness, and it just creates the stupidest problems for me. Just my own awareness, causes me to simply seek entertainment, because why exist if I don't want to exist? I want to exist because it's fun to play video games, or read a book, or watch a movie, or edit a video, or use photoshop, or walking outside, but then it seems my brain cannot compute sometimes that you need to do stuff that isn't fun to continue to have fun. Why can't I just turn off the part of my brain that wants to have fun when I start working? IT'S CONSTANTLY THERE, TELLING ME HOW BORING ALL THAT STUFF IS.
ARGH!
I know, it's not all of the time, but it's like a constant battle. If I let my guard down, I starting doing all-nighters of editing a meme or Playing Battlefield 3, or just browsing online, or writing on the internet about how my brain works. Oops, right?
I am pathetic right? Though I can't pretend I know what you're thinking right now. Geez, would there be any point in me writing this if I had the certitude that nobody would read? Probably not. Probably fucking not. I don't know. This, this is like a last resort for me, I guess, for when I feel that not even God can listen to me (big surprise, am I right?).
Ah. Geez. I guess I should stop here, but I have 4 hours to go until the morning. Should I go to sleep? My brain is torn.
Anyway, I...
I guess I should leave it here. Maybe I'll make another brainlog someday, but I fear half of what I said here would be repeated.
And just know what I'm gonna do when this is posted. I'm just gonna watch the comments and hope for someone to give me a "revelation" or some shit like that.
Hey, at least I hope it was entertaining for some of you. I think the last thing I want to cause you is an existential crisis, so joke or whatever about everything that's here. It's not like anyone should care in the first place, so you may as well make a joke out of it or something. Maybe I just want to talk a bit with you guys. Ever felt like anything I've described? I really tried to keep things authentic, but not everything could come out of my brain without some kind of filter or translation, and a lot of "info" is still lost.
Whatever. I'm probably the 1 millionth person to do this online.
I'll probably reply to people for a few hours, until I'm tired. I don't know why, I just feel compelled to do so.
SO FUCKING ORIGINAL, AM I RIGHT?
I'm not even going to re-read the text until it's posted. It would defeat the purpose otherwise, wouldn't it?
