Is there a word for someone who has a fear of time? Maybe fear is the wrong word, it’s like I feel trapped by it. I feel like I’m at the top of a roller coaster and the next 20 years of my life are going to fly by. I don’t want my parents to die, I don’t want to think about when it will be my turn. I don’t even want to think about my cat dying. It’s such a slim chance that I’m even alive right now. Of all the people and living creatures that have ever existed, an overwhelming majority of them are dead. It’s much more likely to be dead than to be alive. Why are living things so scared of and aversive to death?
I just started drinking black tea instead of coffee. It’s easier on my stomach, and I don’t get as much anxiety.
I have this week off and I want to start being more disciplined so I can feel more productive, like working out and studying. Mostly I just browse through Pinterest all day and play a game on my phone. And watch way too much Law and Order.
Yesterday was a new moon and a solar eclipse apparently. One of the Youtube channels I watch does a ritual with crystals for every new moon and full moon. It sounds weird but it’s actually pretty cool. It’s more about setting goals for the month and sorting out your intentions. New moon is about focusing on what you want to bring into your life, and full moon is about clearing away what no longer serves you.
If you could ‘see’ in 4 dimensions, you would see yourself as containing everything you are from the moment you became alive until the moment you died. From this perspective we are all already dead, and at the same time have never been born. How can these two states be equal? What we feel we are at this moment is only a fragment. I think what bothers me so much about that is feeling like I’m not in control.
I see a collection of seemingly random memories. That’s all a life is. When I was a baby standing in my crib and seeing my mom. When I grew and sat by her doing laundry and asked what the middle finger meant. Popcorn and movies with my sister. Being in the hospital with tubes everywhere and everyone crying. That kid yelling at me during kickball. My teacher asking me if I’m okay. My other teacher asking me if I’m okay. Why am I strange. Why am I so fucked up. I think back and I try to understand.
I don’t think humans have the ability to understand reality, maybe that itself is the answer. I received this life and when the time comes I will give it back again. There’s no reason to be sad or confused about any of it.
There’s something about time though. There’s a property of time that we don’t understand. I’m too stupid to figure it out.
I watched National Geographic almost all day yesterday, they were following around all kinds of different animals in Africa and the big cats of the Masai Mara. Whenever they focused on a species of monkey or ape it reminded me of the way humans act and our facial expressions. We think we’re so smart but really we’re barely scratching the surface.
Things are both better and worse than I thought they would be at this stage in my life.
I only work 2 days a week and I'm going to school 2 days a week. I have hopes and passions again. I love learning about things, and I want to be a digital artist.
I live with another person. He runs hot and cold. At times he is very sweet and pleasant to be around. Other times when he is playing a video game or trying to soder something he throws a temper tantrum like a 2 year old. I can't talk to him about most things. Taking about anxiety and depression just ends up with him saying I need to take vitamins and exercise and how it's all in my head, I just have to focus on the good things in life, and other bullshit. I can't talk to him about politics or philosophy, because I can't relate to any of his ideas. None of them have merit. None of them are interesting or well thought out. Not to me.
He is interesting in other ways, but it's hard to see a future with someone who does not interest me intellectually. I always feel like I'm talking to a pot head with his half-baked views of how the world works. He is a conspiracy theory nut. I enjoy a good conspiracy theory, but his main source for information is Youtube, and with just one poorly made video, he can be completely convinced of the most ridiculous things. Poor reasoning skills. Arrogance. Stubbornness even worse than mine.
I'm like an emotional sponge, and when I'm around negativity and irritability, it makes me negative and irritable. I don't know how much longer I will tolerate this. It might be because he's really the only person I hang around. If I had friends and colleagues to be around, maybe his negativity wouldn't affect me so much. It's such an unattractive quality, to let your emotions control you. Act like an adult for Christ's sake. You're older than I am.
Just the sound of his loud sigh in the other room makes me cringe. Get over yourself.
I have a feeling it's going to end, relatively soon.
Our sense of proprioception distorts how we perceive time. When we are small, we learn how to sense where our body is in space and how to keep track of its movement. It’s only natural to associate this with how our body moves forward in time, like it is a similar progression.
Time does not operate in this way, however. If you walk 20 miles in one direction, your ending point is far away from where you started. But if you live 20 years, this moment is just as close as the one 20 years ago. I don’t know what time is exactly, what its shape would be if you try to conceptualize it, but I am confident that it is not linear. I think there is a way to pierce through the illusion of time, and to master this ability. I have caught glimpses of it, at least I think I have.
I think there is a way to connect with yourself both into the past and into the future. When you move into a moment in the past, your past self becomes lucid as you are now. And when you connect with yourself in the future, you become lucid as you are in the future. When I was very small I felt this. I had to be about 3 or 4 and I was in the backyard with my dad in our small garden. I looked down at my hands and remember very clearly becoming distressed at how small I was. Was this my future self, piercing through the veil of time? Or was it some other phenomena I have yet to realize?
If it was the former, I look forward to the moment I am able to travel back to that moment again. Maybe there are other moments in my youth when I don’t remember this happening. There have also been many times in my adult life where I become very somber when I am spending time with someone I love, especially my father. I get the feeling that they have been dead for a long time, and I miss them. It’s hard to overcome these feelings.
I stopped answering calls for about 20 minutes yesterday, right before the end of my shift. Really, I don’t even have to answer that many calls per hour, compared to normal call center places. But the fact that everyone else can ignore the calls has been really infuriating me lately. Neither one of my coworkers answered a call the entire day.
I’ll take a Norco today and try not to blow a gasket. I got a prescription for some severe abdominal pain I was having, I almost got my appendix taken out. I was going to try to use them sparingly, but opioids are the only things that ease my anxiety so I’ve been taking one almost every day.
The other day one of our donors got through to our CFO somehow about some accounting fuck up. She calmed her down and told her she could call us back anytime and talk to the customer service manager who would love to speak with her. I just stared at her as she was relaying the story to my coworker. She doesn’t even know we are trained never to transfer calls to our supervisor “because everyone wants to talk to a manager” – we have to lie and say they are away from their desk and handle it ourselves. I hope she calls back and hears that line of bullshit.
I’ve been reading a lot of novels lately. Maybe I can be a novelist. The most recent one What I Talk About When I Talk About Running has me thinking about it. I don’t like running, but that isn’t what it’s all about. It’s a memoir by my favorite author Haruki Murakami that centers around how he became a runner, which also coincides with the beginning of his career as a novelist. He ran his own bar, a moderately successful one, in his early twenties and then just quit to start writing. That lifestyle – working at home, setting your own schedule, creating your own world with your own characters – it sounds very appealing.
More to think about.
I had a dream that I actually liked my job. There were a lot of new young people they hired and the boss guy was talking about training them and how they'd all do really well.
I woke up and was so disappointed. I only have one year left until I'm fully vested, which would be good I guess? If I don't change positions or if they don't hire someone else to help answer phones and deal with all the letters and shit, I'm going to quit one of these days. I just want to hang out in programming or do data entry all day. I can't believe I haven't been replaced yet with how horrible I am. I think they just don't have the resources which is kinda sad.
The horrible goblin monster with a lisp is still driving me crazy a year later. Why can't she get hit by a bus.
I feel like I've aged 10 years in the last 2 years. I need a vacation, a real vacation. Chronic stress is making me age faster it feels like. I found my first gray hairs, pretty prominant too. I can't find a makeup that looks good on me anymore, my skin is always so dry. I need to get a haircut but I hate interacting with people so I keep putting it off.
All these things I want to start, these ideas I have and hobbies, books I want to read and things I want to learn about, I can't do anything with this stupid fucking full time job. Yeah, I should be grateful I guess but honestly I would gladly live on less if it meant having more free time to do things I like. How do people do this their whole lives? It's been one year for me and I'm always googling about early retirement and how to make money working from home and shit. I want to start an Etsy shop but I have no idea what I would sell. Prints maybe, that's all I can think of.
The sound of typing drives me fucking crazy. The way some people type. It's so quiet in there most of the time it's disturbing. Office culture is weird. I still don't really understand it, but I take advantage as much as I can of standing around doing nothing, wasting time in meetings, taking long bathroom breaks, listening to podcasts on my computer, and whatevs.
There are three people on my team. We all have the same title. When a call comes in, it rings everyone and I'm the person who is supposed to answer it. The other two have other shit they do, so they only answer it "if they're able to". Which means about 90% of the time either I answer it or it goes to voicemail. That shit drives me up the fucking rails. If I'm busy writing up a case or writing an email I have to stop what I'm fucking doing and answer the phone, but the other two people can just ignore it. The other girl will answer the phone maybe a couple times a week. It's because they've been here longer that they have it set up that way, but that's fucking retarded. They have the person who is the worst at answering calls, answer ALL of the calls.
I hate talking to people so much. I do whatever I can to get them off of the phone as quickly as possible. I don't try to explain anything, I don't correct them when they're wrong about something, I say the least amount of words possible so they are satisfied and I can hang up. We are supposed to document every call, and offer membership to people. I noticed when I first got there that the other guy doesn't document all his shit, so I stopped doing it too unless it was important. I don't even ask people if they are a member anymore because IDGAF. If I'm going to be the only one answering the phone, it's a miracle I haven't started hanging up on people and deleting voicemails yet.
I'm such a bad worker. This is why I need to be self-employed. I'm a bad liar. If I don't care about something, it shows.
You hear about that company where you can anonymously send poop to people in the mail? There are a couple customers I think I might send poop to. People are so stupid, being incredibly rude to someone who has access to your personal information.
I should buy one of those trendy weird tiny houses and just, work part time at a book store or something. Adult life is so stupid, I'm trying to remember the good things in it I saw when I was a kid. I can go anywhere I want at any time, I can buy stuff, watch all the shows I want, build forts. Get cool toys. I dunno.
Things that make you an adult
-working at a job that you hate
-paying your own bills
-watching your dog die
-blaming yourself instead of others
Maybe life will get better when I become a senior citizen. Normal adult life is the worst thing imaginable.
I want to be a bird in my next life.
Every morning when I drive to work and when I come home at night, I see crows perched on the tops of the light posts along the freeway, staring at the stupid humans driving to their stupid buildings to waste their stupid days. Birds think we're idiots.
I'm reading The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. The main character descends into madness, and it's based on Sylvia's own experiences.
I want to write but I'm no good at writing. I want to paint and sculpt but I'm not great at that, either. Everything I do is wrong.
I won't leave anything of value adter I die, no lasting impression. The only point, then, is to create something for myself.
Everyone is a distinct point of light with varying brightness and color. I feel like most of my life my light has been a pretty dim dark grey. I always have such negativity inside of me, and just want to be left alone, fade into the background.
People influence one another. Just by being around someone, their light is reflected in yours. I worry that my darkness affects the few people I’m around. I wish there was something I could do to change.
I’ve been thinking about metaphors and analogies a lot. I think human society functions in the same ways neural circuits and cells do, but I don’t know how to word it.