TV SHOW REVIEW: Better Call Saul seasons 3 to 5

dear diary 3: processing emotions through language

I had a plan for today, which involved finishing two thoughts I started writing last night for publishing, one about consciousness and language named “wittgenstone age mindset” which I thought was very clever, and another about English in particular and some very common language games on the internet. No title for that yet but I want to make a funny image by taking Morpheus from the matrix and making him say “you think that’s English you’re speaking”.

Next I wanted to finish setting up the payment processing stuff and maybe even find other ways of setting up e-begging stuff. But instead I was just too mentally ill. I had a real bad one last night. Not been feeling very well today. Little episode. It’s called we have a little episode.

Little, looking at a statue in the park and thinking it’s human. Seeing it in color, flesh toned. It’s called we have a little visual hallucination, like the weird disturbances you get when you look at a radiator on acid. Little whatever. Spend the day just waiting to come down. Basically. Short attention-span. A strain. Angry. Frustrated. Frightened. Irrational, inflammation. Keep trying to find ways to get out of it, keep doing nothing at all. Just sitting and being very tense. Indulging in punishing myself.

I keep trying to find ultimate purpose to propel me into action. I know what actions to take. I lack a reason to do them. I cannot do them for myself. I have no one I love. My family is disintegrated and a family in name only. My line is going to die with me. My brother is never going to breed, he’s a neutered, castrated consumer. I’m never going to breed because I’m very very evil and I missed my last chance to be with a good woman. My family is going to end with me, and no one even gives a shit. My parents don't give a shit. My brother doesn't give a shit. I can’t do it for my family. My family is dead. we’re just waiting to pass the time until we get to the formalities. My dad has created pseudo-grandchildren by adopting a widows family. He put down my fucking dog without telling me. He buried her without even telling me before it was done. Without even calling me. then he called to tell me about how upset he was and all the emotions he felt burying her. prick.

My brother has adopted his wife’s family and exited our own. My cousins on my mothers side might breed. But we’re estranged. I’m my fathers son. And even then, it’s a big maybe. My cousin on my fathers side is either going to grow up to be a literal serial killer, or get institutionalised at some point in his teens and get locked up for the rest of his life.

I’m literally the last chance. And I can’t do it. I don’t deserve it. I have to do it for someone else – I can’t do it for my own sake. I’m a fucking monster. I’m a liar and a cheat and a sadist and a pervert and a coward. I can’t do it for my family because they don’t care. They dont even want it.

The burden is too heavy. I can’t do it alone. I can’t feel for all of them, I can’t think for all of them, I can’t repent for all of them, I can’t guide them and I can’t help them. The burden is too great. I can’t save them. I can’t save all of them. I can’t save any of them. I can barely even take care of myself.

I can’t be who they want me to be, and I can’t change them because I lack the grit. I lack the constitution. I lack the will to impose it on them even though I supposedly know better. I can’t impose my will on them for myself, for by my own will. My own will is not adequate justification.

I cant get over my own resentment and ego, and do it for their sake directly. Because they don’t deserve it. I can’t get over my self loathing and bad self-confidence, to do it for their sake, directly. I don’t deserve it.

I’m very tired. I should have something to eat.

I had a very bad dream the other night after seeing my mom. I dreamt that she was preventing me from something important, some magical dream object. And taking glee in it, a childish glee, in keeping it from me, possessing it and withholding it. I insisted that she stopped being obstinate and let me pass, to this important Thing, and she physically blocked me. So I insisted and imposed my will and told her to move, we’re running out of time, I need to defuse the bomb/finish the school report/earn your love/etc before it’s too late, and she didn't, and this kept going on until I was desperate enough to hit her, and I struck her in the face with my closed fists, harder than I have ever hit anyone in my life, harder and harder, being in awe and terror at my own violence, hitting her in the face over and over and she would just laugh at me and continue to block me from reaching the object.

She tells me she wants me to be “happy” and every time we interact I spend fucking days just being fucking miserable and unable to do anything, I’m just a fucking vegetable. I got up today, didnt go to work, and watched 3 seasons of better call saul, skipping along in 5 second increments past the slow parts (I feel that it’s very overindulgent with the long shots) while being extremely physically tense, sitting complete still in an awkward position with my arms and legs all criss-crossed, and just being tense, tense tense tense. Not moving a muscle. That’s what I fucking did today. Because I talked to my mom a couple of days ago and she made me feel bad. Yeah totally yeah I could still have a chance of having children one day, yeah right sure. Cool theory hotshot do you have a single fact to back that up

I’ve deliberately bought some nicotine gum with some kind of mint ingredient in it I have an allergic reaction to. I’m quitting. I’m scaling down and then finally quitting. This time for sure.

the point of my dream is that I’m afraid of my own strength and intimidating myself. the most important part, the biggest lingering emotion in the dream, was the horror of how hard I was capable of striking.

I’ll try to make better blogposts as soon as possible. In closing, if you and someone you love are not playing the same game, and they think you are, then it is your mission and duty to inform them that they are wrong. are you a bad enough dude to love