pinocchio

Hi chat. it started in college i guess-this running joke that i was a robot. i played into it i suppose, i mean they werent really wrong. all four years i struggled with feeling well anything. i moved through life robotically. unless an explosive, manic drive hit me (typically from drugs), i emoted limitedly, felt little pleasure from things more uncouth, and derived no joy from any activity. it wasnt really until the start of my junior year when i had a certain mental 'accident' (partially caused by external forces, those who know, know.) where i was forcefully confronted with the ails of flesh. the usual dissociate and work until your the shattered jar of Ragu on the sidewalk by Mckee wasnt really doing the trick anymore.

its not like i couldnt feel anything ever. i realized around probably the time i was 16-17 that i couldn't really feel happy. not in a depressed sense, just the emotional ceiling in my brain was so low that it could have been the happiest day of my life and the most i could conjure was maybe a smile. unfortunately i could very much still feel negative emotions. its like a series of tiny hills with giant dips into the earth- if youre understanding.

nonetheless, when i was 20 i had to confront the robotic nature of myself. it has been an uphill battle becoming a real boy. i suppose ive learned some things about myself so far. ive mapped where emotions reside in my body. upped the skill ceiling of my happiness levels (though i have deepend the troughs of sadness as well). i am slowly discovering traits. i fear the most prominent trait is soul crushing yearning (cheesy as all fuck i know, but god forbid a white boy catch a vibe and lie vicariously through romcoms.). this desire to i guess be seen, or known by someone was really the crux of this whole thing. not as in i want people to see this. truthfully i would throw up if anyone i knew saw this so im trying to keep physical details of me and my life limited. but more so because my last romantic outing (after volcel summer, iykyk) went sour and i lived the first half of Notting Hill i tried to figure out why i felt so shitty. its not like i was dating this girl. we met in person once, though we did text a metric fuck tonne, but neither here nor there. and i think the reason was how it felt she got me off the bat. each relationship i feel highlights different aspects of you depending on the other person and what they bring to the table. she brought thing so specific to the nicher parts of my life that when i stopped talking to her (who goes on a date and a week later says theyre seeing someone else be so fr dude, sorry side beat) i felt an immediate loss (it aint over til its over though you bet your ass when the time is right im gonna text her again and continue my endless cycle of horrific serial romance that brings me to my knees).

even cold steel and bundles of wiring want to be known. how can i be known if i dont know me though.

Hence this. i will be known and i will know me even if it kills me (if it kills me ill come back jesus will make me a disciple or maybe he'll let me be your cat.).

bye chat.


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