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it seems like i cannot go 24 hours without injuring myself at least once. and i don't mean cutting or some teenage girl shit like that, i mean... just now, i am taking my glove off, and it requires a bit of a tug, and i slice my left index finger open with my right thumbnail, and i am typing this while assiduously avoiding using that finger as i type this so as not to get blood and newskin all over my das keyboard. so many shirts ruined that yesterday, in a similar moment, i sliced open the thick callous on my right thumb, and that is the freaking worst, it's so chunky it'll just keep tearing it open and newskin will just make it worse, has to be freaking vaseline halp. |
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ugh. STOP BLEEDING this is so irritating people say things to me like, "what's so hard about doing your taxes?" and well say i manage to fight my way through ADHD and get going, then i can't do anything much for two hours because my finger won't stop bleeding and then they're late and fuck you at a certain point i'm not in control anymore taxes were months ago, just sayin' |
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sometimes i feel as if you were a floating alien entity having booked the "full human body experience". |
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i think it makes sense to say i'm just a bit up in the clouds. in college, i once walked into a tree because i was intently focused on visualizing music. i banned myself from walking with headphones for years after that out of fear i'd just step into a car... and then, yes, driving, i'd be thinking about programming or admiring how pretty the clouds were, and then realize i was about to rear-end someone and slam on the brakes; send my heart rate through the roof. never actually hit anyone, but that jolt, that fear of dying, and somehow i started to learn how to snap out of it before things became a problem. i could walk with headphones again. then it kept going and became that "weasels" thing where, like, i can now literally program myself like a GPS, visualize all the turns like flashcards -- takes a few seconds -- then i can zone out the whole drive, just enjoy music, and only click back in if someone's wandering out of their lane or such. but i'll still, still find myself realizing i've been staring at a wall for five minutes and having an imaginary conversation with lynn margulis or something. daydreaming; the worst distraction and always there. then you combine that with me learning to run myself like a VCR -- bring this upstairs, bring that downstairs, then get stuff together and go out for a walk -- and it all happens as i'm making up Cool Band Names and this is essentially how i manage to slice my fingers open with my fingernails all the time; i'm not actually consciously paying attention. i'm kind of like an octopus. in the clouds |
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that it's actually a case study in and of itself -- like "here how it happens; this is not alien technology" you know those plastic containers where it's... an indented lid on an incredibly flimsy container that bends and works with the slightest force? you can actually, like, just pinch the sides to open it, sometimes? this also makes it unpredictable, that it's deeply difficult to reduce into a reliable robotic motion you can leave in place; move on. so the container did something unexpected, my hands were wet, it slipped, and i sliced my finger open with my fingernail. next time i am in this situation -- totally zoned out -- i clicked back in, and my brain is saying: dry off your hands. pay close attention as you do this. i did, and, well... things went better. my brain said that to me because i yelled that at myself last time that happened and then kind of did the flashcard thing with me opening up some platonic deal of a shit plastic container. i will keep snapping out of my mental ponderings and pay attention now, until, eventually, i feel like it's far along enough that it can safely be entrusted to the weasels again. i also need to trim my fingernails... more, and differently. tactics |
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one of my friends told me a few months ago, "i've always felt like you were some kind of air spirit, very aetheric" and then i promptly got technical/philosophical about, well, what elements match me best? but i think he was getting at a similar thing as you. i also think... the injuries thing... i'm working on it... i just need a moment to vent sometimes; i'm human after all. like the daft punk album |
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too far. you want proper aspergers? here, have a whiff |
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post #02622300, let's please pin that one up on the fridge or something; arguably the most succinct, coherent, readable description of the business end of all the years of weasel crap. so, like, stop, you're done; you've the gist of it. for those who want to take a stab, here's more a) be careful with how you talk to yourself, because your brain will play it back later when external prompts from reality match where you were at when you said it to yourself b) but this can be tactically employed. like, screaming at yourself: stop, come back to earth, dry your hands, stay focused, as you c) visualize the situation [best practices here its own entire topic] leads to d) next time the situation arises, your brain plays back an answering machine tape of you screaming at yourself e) verything goes much better ultra-bonus: you see me getting even more abstractly tactical about it, perhaps? that, conclusion was "this is a complex little pocket and i need to spend time consciously developing approaches to handle it without injuring myself." to contemplate what the best practice is, to get it down to a ritual... essentially, training a weasel. then i can let it do its job. i cannot tell you how useful this is when running 2^4 bits of kit @1nce |
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bro you replying to yourself that’s retarded |
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no hatin', but welcome to xltronic - the personal blog of epicmegatrax. at least you keep the site artificially alive! |
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wouldn't have to if not for discord plundering online communities to smoke things up for their IPO |
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epic you know it wouldn’t change anything for you epic |
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i know that you know and you know that i know |
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no, no, i disagree. |
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last i checked livejournal, there are people who i got to know 20 years ago still posting there, which is... weird. then i wrote my own blog software... riced out yugo... i have electronic music for technical articles, and i had an additional two wordpress sites for more inane crap that i've rightfully let sink into the muck in the end, while i find it technically satisfying to write, like, a proper article kinda on wordpress... just edit the verbiage to perfection; get sick with picture layout, captions,whatever... it's just djfhkgdf once i click "post" because i've spent all this endless fussing, it finally satisfies the angry voice of steve jobs in my head... and now, nothing. just silence, waiting. from there the realization: this is not about just writing something and, whew, done. i want people to read it, i want people to react. ideally, i want people to get something out of it -- like, download a complex architecture of thought i've worked very hard on, and then manage to leverage it to their own benefit. that it's a journey; it needs to be a mess. after who knows how many years talking about weasels and gradually sorting out the wheat from the chaff, i've some reasonably succinct explanations based on all the times it failed because i went too far, and, well, still maybe no dice, but we're close here |
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i just read some article about AD(H)D that was passing through the news, and included this vignette: a 31yo neuroscience student is watering her plant and then starts shopping for furniture until water is pouring out her foot. that, please parse this: she starts pouring water for a plant, has the idea to shop for furniture, pulls out her phone and begins doing so, still watering the plant, and this continues until her foot gets wet. now, maybe, just imagine, that this is your entire life, your reality, because it fucking is mine. and i've worked very hard to try and guide it into something that at least vaguely succeeds; accepting i'm going to go off into space. that i know people who always respond immediately to texts and cannot fathom why i ignore my phone for hours at a time. but nevermind that, essentially pairing directed visualization with vocal programming (DBT, i guess, but that's more crude) you can program a thought to fall out of your head and interrupt the grind at the right time, and this strikes me as something anyone can do and leverage, even if it's not life or death as it is with me and i do worry i'm not going to make it |
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my attitude w/rt to dying is like: if i die, i can't march around the block to blade techno opener on headphones, so i'd rather not. but all sorts of crap, including, like, the smoke alarms malfunctioning because the landlord was a cheapass and refused to even check what turned out to be a corroded battery, even when i suggested... paid for batteries in mine... and yeah, i have some fucking tinnitus now like i didn't before, and just a tug like that from a lot of other things, my attitude w/rt to dying remains the same but once i'm worried i'll even still be able to enjoy that... |
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on the bridge, smoking a zig... oh hey, i could just throw myself in front of the train. multiple people have in recent months. but, no, that would inconvenience a lot of people who are of no fault. it's messy. that frankly i do not even have the stones, i feel, and this is fucking stupid. no, even in liberal massachusetts, i live a 15m walk away from a gun shop, and... fuck it, this is still stupid. that this is not tomorrow, next week, or even this month. but as a professional -- now unemployed -- software engineer, i get heat about accurate estimates, and it's kind of like: we'll know around new years |
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