Pocket mirror

I HATE blogs yet I desperately want one. Here it is.

I'm not a good writer and I don't mean to be. This whole site is an obsession of myself. I unapologetically exist on a daily basis; this site is an ode to that. It's paradoxical. How do you capture something as ever-changing as "me"?

You create a copy. You take a still. You take many stills. Leave some out. Choose the best ones. You put them together. (Simultaneously, they exist as parts and as a whole.)

Having a blog feels wrong yet I want to have one. Just a little space where I can type absolutely buckshit anything, pretty much like the rest of my site, but this one is different because it's hidden and that means I'm embarrassed about it, ooh. You're about to find out how much of a loser I am. Yet that in of itself is just another brag. Oh look at me! How much I love myself and can't stop telling you about myself and how much I think about how you think of me. Why is this on the net? No need to act so coy. Nobody is reading this. I can't write for shit.

Do I come off as loving? I do hope I do. But you probably won't find that all the time here, in these pages. I hate to fill my site with hateful pages. I do avoid it. But that's not really [real]. The same old thought sung so many times, "hate and love are the same thing". It's true. You can't go without the other one. I just fear being triggering too much of an emotional response. I don't know what emotion it would be. I want people to be happy.

It's probably a personal thing. I took a picture of myself. The camera app flipped it horizontally for me—"mirrored" it. I think many selfie cameras do this. I flipped it horizontally again in my phone's photo editor so the image would appear as though I was looking in the mirror. I sent them to my friend: the original photo, or how people saw me, and the flipped one, or how I saw myself. I greatly preferred the flipped one. I thought I looked prettier. It is how I saw myself after all. But my friend preferred the original photo. Naturally because that's how she saw me.

I thought back to some years before, when I was younger, in my late teens. It's not that far away but the gap between the old me and the me now is huge. I would think, "I was really annoying and rude when I was younger." True. May be. But had I not been curating my appearance ever since? Somehow I still have friends, and I think they like me a lot. I think to the many "bad thoughts" I had, probably about everything and how rude and annoying younger me probably was. I think I forget that I don't actually say them, and I actually do think before I speak, because I do care. Like, about people.

The idea that something is nice or mean becomes so useless. You're telling me I make these things up? They mean the world to me, like sometimes and usually. Like, the reality is it just is. Wow. Nothing ever means anything. Who put me here,

All of this is really lame. End this now.

Maybe you're not supposed to read this judging by how this page is styled. I love not styling my pages. I hate coding and I hate web design. That's why I try to write as little as possible and just repeat things. I've managed to pass off my laziness as personal style so any recognition I get, I do deserve.

HELLO? You're supposed to be reading this. That's why you find it through a clickable link.

I do appreciate personal websites and things people create. I finally linked a few that I really like. It took me so long. For so long my site has never expressed anything about anyone else but me, I think, for the most part at least. I do not like making links pages. I know how crucial they are to personal websites like mine, like, culturally in this community (the indieweb)? It's spreading connection. It's telling people "lookie here, more sites that are in a way like mine" somehow. That makese sense. It feels selfish to not have a links page. Everyone has a links page. But the answer to this dilemma is I do not care and I make better rules.

Curation is key in all of this, webmastering as a whole. I have to choose what I link carefully. When I set out to create a links page, I should not be raking my brain for links to list, just to fill up the links page. The pages I link should be pages I visit and return to frequently. Not just people whose feeds I happen to follow, not people who happen to have my site linked on theirs, but websites that I actually care about.

There is no block button on the free web. The block button is closing your eyes or installing a link blocker plugin to your browser.

There are specifics to the nature of DNIs that I don't think is clear enough. DNIs have a function but maybe not in ways that were initially intended. For example, DNIs tell me a little about the user who wrote it, like a glorified "dislikes" list disguised as rules. But the fact they're meant to be rules to be respected frames the information differently. To list your dislikes is one thing, but to impose rules for others (often written with unwelcoming vitriol) or so it seems, and to say the mere incident of having liked (or even just having read) the user's content when you fit the criteria is a violation of that user's autonomy. Or something. I doubt it means that though. It's different for everybody. Anything interesting will invite subsequent visits from me regardless if I fit the criteria or not. As someone who has a DNI on my social media accounts, it's more like a sign that says "I will block you immediately, maybe block me now" or something like that. DNIs take so much energy to maintain. I think it's this autistic rigidity that's in [our] way. I hella don't respect the DNIs of artists who happen to joke about or make art of the very thing in their DNIs. I don't respect the DNIs that are just rants that pretend to be DNIs. Not that I'd be interacting furthermore if that's the case. So in a way, they do work.

When you're linking me, you're linking the page. The necro page. You guys are linking the necro page. Nothing bad about it but you guys know I have that right.

Warnings are important to me. It's my way to make [myself] more palatable (for my viewers whom I expect), in a way, by passing over the accountability to the viewer. Not like I'm doing anything bad. It's a safeguard, as well as a necessity for those who seek the types of things I may serve. I take warnings on other sites as seriously.

YOU GUYS ARE FUCKING CRAZY. I took a peek at some of my followers and the circles they're in and holy shit? I don't want to be part of them. Specifically the circle of celibates and their color pills and things... I'm saying now I am not like these people and I want to live life and have fun. I'm unemployed and in school and I barely read. I don't flinch at cockroaches and I stare at people. I'm going to make it.

I'm halfway through American Psycho (book) and I just bought two secondhand Yukio Mishima books. The latter were impulse buys. All I know is he got off on beheadings and he was a fascist that annoying Pewdiepie likes. And like ero guro or whatever. I hope to resell the books after reading them.

This is my blog where I just write anything and everything that I want to put on my site. The page looks like this because I never liked traditional journal blog layouts that separated each entry by date or whatever. I'm also shy and having the blog styled like this makes it difficult to read to some degree. You can almost never distinguish when I wrote something, except for "in the past when this was supposedly happening".

I really think you start to lose once you think you're anything more than a friend. I don't mean that in like a "guoooh friendzone" way.

One night I wasn't able to sleep because a question bothered me. Why are things inclined to stay alive?? Everyone says "because those who don't simply die out" which didn't satisfy me. Everyone (everything) was alive at some point then. My question is why be or have been alive in the first place?

My site must be virtuous. No gray areas allowed. Clear declarations BASED ON TRUTH only (as much as possible).

I think it's stupid when people use beauty as a basis for looking for a partner. Beauty as the giver of value in anything, or whatever. That stuff is temporary and subjective. We try to worm our way out by saying "everything is beautiful! yes even the ugly!" Close... By then beauty doesn't mean anything. It's something biological and organic and it will rot, so it must not be the basis for value in anything.

Some people are small and unicellular and have pseudopoda for "feet"... You've got to be ok with that.

Do you think I'm looking for an answer?

I need better vocal stims. My current ones are "commit suicide", "you need to be killed", "die", "kill yourself". I don't know why they're still stuck to me. I have not thought about things like that in a long time. Why can't I have nice normal ones? Am I not ok..???

"Burger" ⟶ "Murder"

I Dream of making an Eroge Visual Novel one day with my OCs whom I hate so very much. I want to share them but I don't know how to deliver them in a comprehensible way. One thing I should try to do is to Stop trying to diagnose them and give them therapy. Sometimes all they need is [to die].

I HATE AESTHETICS IN MY DIGITAL MINIMALISM CONTENT. People seek "personality" in art then create categories to box that art into.

AGAIN WITH THE QUESTION, IT'S NAGGING AT ME. I actually was able to come to an answer that night, and I fell asleep satisfied. But the answer is now something that haunts me. And I don't have the thinking ability to collect proof of it anyway but I strongly feel it's correct. I'm sorry...

Whether you like it or not, EVERYTHING IS SEX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There are some people I'm afraid of and it's suicidal people. (Not people who deal with suicidal ideation.) But I remember that such a concept does not exist. Nobody Wants To Die. Those who are actually meant for death are already dead. For a tiny bit I'm more hopeful.

What do you think of me? What am I to you???? I know who I want to be but is it working??

I'm going to make something only I can understand.

I know the answer to that question already but I don't know if I'm factually right with the science so I feel I can't say it. But it's like how the plants close their little stomates because the potassium particles become attracted to each other, because they get positively or negatively charged somehow. Those molecules don't know what they're doing, but they're there with the plant and they help the plant survive. They don't know that though. They just see something the opposite of their polarity and move closer to it, or away. I think every biological being is made up of these kinds of things, just molecules who happen to have the tendency to stick to and repel each other. And all of this is just because of luck, I think. It just so happens that iron attracts oxygen, which allowed us to eventually create blueprints that happen to create specialized blood cells to do that. And they even have a little dip in them, and that's where the oxygen and the stuff goes. All of it is LUCK. We are lucky (adjective; cause) to be alive (infinitive; effect).

So like, why are we so obsessed with living though? Is it just is? Like, for realsies and that's it? (No way.) I was satisfied that night and fell asleep promptly after realizing that life is just luck, but it's itching again and I'm not so sure. "Luck" is made up. It's a concept that didn't exist, I think, when everything were just fishes, not like the concept of time. Can't, next time.

I'm not making anyone less homophobic by arguing in reddit threads, I think. That's not wholly factually true though. Though this is the right time to be selfish.

I made some friends. I need to hold on.

I'm sorry for saying mean things to some people... I didn't understand at first, and lumped you in the only boxes I knew of.

Sometimes I feel like I'm so much better than some. But that's a trap, and it goes against what I think and value. It's embarrassing...

I haven't eaten meat in a long while. I ate a lot of fish. Somehow they're not considered "meat", for some. I haven't eaten pig meat and cow meat in a long while. Though I eat chicken more often than those meats, still not a common occurrence. I have four month old tofu in the freezer.

What's the point of a to-do list for art? I'll make stuff when it asks to be made. I can't simply create things just because. It's hard, because I do really want to create. Perhaps it is my own selfishness, though, that block these creatures' calls just because I can hear them knocking and I'm trying to ready their warm welcome as though they're something fluffy, sweet and whole.

I need to write down my thoughts more because I'm goldfish brain!

You have to forgive yourself for anything and everything. You cannot shame yourself into growth. Don't let others shame you into regression.

Do you want it? How bad do you want it? Quick, take a shower before the nuggets are done.

YOU HAVE ONE MONTH. It only takes two weeks.

⟵ I completely forgot I wrote that here. I'm not doing anything...

I have a heart bracelet. I usually wear it with the hearts facing me, so when I look at it I see hearts. Years ago my mom told me to wear it upside down because the whole point of it was for others to see me with hearts on my wrist. I didn't like that because while everyone saw hearts, I would see butts instead. Today I wore it, butt facing me. Then I realized that it isn't that I got the lame end. Everyone thinks it's a heart bracelet but only I could see the secret and elusive butt bracelet.

accomplishing difficult tasks brings me no additional happiness compared to doomscrolling. the "joy" is moreso the fact that I did not scroll, not the fact that "my hard work paid off" and I accomplished something. so maybe happiness isn't the goal at all

⟵ It's been a LONG while since I wrote that. I wrote that in November and it's March now. There were some rough weeks, but only two out of the four months I did anything but scroll on my phone. I picked up new and old things like crochet, painting and drawing, and playing games. Looking back it's still all kind of hazy and I don't seem to remember the accumulated joy but I believe it's real and I am doing things better. I really should journal so I'd remember!

I've given up on happiness being the goal. This whole not chasing happiness thing is a cliché lesson and I've always thought it true, but I never truly understood it until now. In my mind Alice Yabusame's words echo... "even if it's superficial!"

I don't have to understand everything or be understood all the time. THINGS JUST ARE.

I learned to be selfish and I'm ok with that. Those who get it will get it.

God I hate it when I learn something new that reframes everything. I don't want to be put in a box with anyone like me. It is comforting to know that I'm not alone but ironically this is the loneliest I've ever been.

I hated weak people. I like to hear about their struggles, I think. It's not that I'm happy when I do. In fact I get really sad and it could ruin the rest of my day and maybe even the day after. It's only when I reminisce, when I brag or feel like confessing something do I picture it as me simply entertaining myself. It makes me feel superior, both from knowing it's wrong and that I enjoy(ed) it anyway. I did it voluntarily because I wanted it even if it would ruin the climate. I like that I'm not suffering and they are. They are suffering and I'm not. The thought that I wasn't suffering made me really happy. And I said I stopped doing it a long time ago because it's wrong but I accidentally lied and I do it still when I'm bored. But I see now why I keep coming back even though virtue says I have no reason to, and I don't want to face it because of how lonely the truth really is. It very probably doesn't have to be and I'm really just choosing it to be. I'm sorry for calling everyone losers. I truly think, and I never thought otherwise deep in my heart, that everyone is really strong and nothing can be worse than death. Nobody ever wants to die is the truth that I choose however selfish it might sound. It has to be true. I don't want anyone to die.

"girls are cute" ⟵ the need to self-censor due to being in a fresh new friend circle ⟵ "I torture boys"

Unplanned, I just did it again: read a dead girl's diary, read what everything everyone had to say about her, and I'm feeling elated. I will continue to live on for these people. Like a disgusting amoeba I'll continue to crawl all over this world with the belief that all is mine to take. In this truth I shall also take solace in the superficiality of my kindness. Could it be so ungoodly natured to be kind only to undo sin? I know I'm not wrong anyway and I never have been. It wasn't this nature of kindness that was forced upon me. It's been here, in all of us, all this time. It's selfish of me because you don't see what I see. But it's either you or me. It is so difficult because I'm not a magical being, and you'd hate to hear this I know, that hopes and dreams are the most that I could offer. It feels that way to me but I hope in spite of this truth that I see that these words, regardless whether they upset or appease you, are enough to keep you living longer.

I'm serious. Nothing is amiss.

I'm seriously elated. I feel this so strongly but does anyone believe me? It could seem my happiness is fake. Perhaps you've put me under a classification of personalities and it's likely that I may be associated with a knack for faking. This is for the ones who still refuse to believe me. I want you to believe me when I tell you I'm so joyful right now. All my sorrow happens backstage where I mold them into something worth remembering. Why do I want you to believe me anyway? Maybe so you could actually be there when I truly am sad. So you'd think of me and wonder where I am on the sine wave.

I'm doing good at school I'll keep it up! I still live in a trash room and I don't chase cockroaches anymore. We live in the same space. At least I'm still creating in spite of it all. Shitty drawings but they're important to me. They had to create a new rule about the number of abscences so they could kick me out of the organization I joined. I had it coming and I was sad but I'm taking it with open arms. I have a new habit of not showering as often and sleeping late. It feels bright outside.

I never wanted my site to be a reference one might turn to if they were looking to harm themselves. I absolutely loathe these types of people. I think I'm above self harm. It was really, really gross to discover the reality that I may perhaps be one of them. I enjoy others' suffering. I like to think they're suffering so I don't [have to]. I think I'm safe, somehow, when I engage with this delight. I really don't see myself, or conveniently I tend to forget and ignore.

I don't wish that they'd suffer. There.

Thinking only leads to more self-preserving rationalizations that I don't doubt. Selfish as it sounds I could only justify why I'm within my right to feel this way. Explaining myself in fear of being misunderstood gets tiring.

You know it starts to get really funny when I have to resort to writing to do lists and self pep talks in the voices of my favorite anime boys and girls. There's something that definitely happened in my past that I don't remember. Maybe I was half asleep when I remembered. Where, then, do I give credence?

I had a really bad delusion last week where I thought I couldn't speak to anyone. I locked myself in my room and wallowed in fear and sadness. It felt really, really lonely. I think I was afraid of being spoken to, or to know that I'm speaking to a being of agency. Stuck in my room, I reveled in the paper cutouts of my favorite characters smiling happily as though they could comfort me. I knew it was pathetic but at the same time I recall experiencing immense joy. I really missed my friends. I really wanted to talk to them. The little events that I could only describe now as mere coincidences, at that time felt like worldly omens and I would be pushed to tears by the slightest nudge. I no longer know why I was so afraid and it's hard to rationalize everything that I had felt during that time. It's funny to think of it now.

Please take care.

At this point, the "rot of social media" has less to do with the platform and more to do with the people. While material manifestation of this rot is of course undeniable on mainstream social media platforms, people also unknowingly continue to spread the life-draining culture of mainstream social media and contaminate the indieweb with it. It's just a testament to how deeply has social media influenced our culture, particularly how we consume content and how we police its creation on the individual level.

This section is plainly about me. You can call me mir. My chosen mediums of creation are websites, crochet and knitting, writing, drawing and painting. I like games and movies and shows and books, like anyone. Sex and romance repulse me and I like the grotesque nature of all of it. I like love and violence. I like light mode. I am a doll of a girl. I am a girl the way plastic is molded to take the shape of a woman. I am a girl the way a mantis is an orchid. I like to make up rules. I study agriculture. I like my friends. I'm kind and friendly and my e-mail is mir133572e@gmail.com.