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Captain Taru's Log: Out of the Fog


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"Officially" I'm at day 7, even if I haven't played at all since January 21. But the mindset is different, so yeah, day 7.

- Day 7:

Today I have planned to spend all the day with this developer friend of mine. I've been thinking about it and decided to try go to the bar and order a coffee. If I end relapsing it will be exclusively my fault, and caused by my explosive and self-destructive feelings, but not of the games for being there. 

I'll give you an example. When my uncle quit smoking there was a wedding the week after. In weddings it's traditional to smoke a cigar. Everyone asked him to make an exception but he rightfully refused. And so everyone else smoked and frowned upon him, and yet he kept his resolve. Would be the proper choice not assist to the dinner when he knew beforehand this would happen? In my case I'm taking a more active role, let's say I'm lighting everyone else's cigars, but I get the same amount of cravings when people talk about games or watch games in the news or in social media. And people talk about games a lot. Helping a dear friend and being productive overpowers everything else. And if I feel like wavering I can always write about it, seek refuge here and detach from that project. I'd take it as a personal defeat though. Even if you (@Marchosias) are (absolutely) right about the whole thing happening too early.

And I THANK YOU LOTS for, despite using the same metaphor, being able to argue your position in such a rational way I have not only listened and thought about it, but also acknowledge the truth of it. Unlike others who don't belong to any forum but manage to shitpost (I'm not looking at aaaanyone remotely close to my same DNA sequence...!)

- About my education (you can't even begin to imagine how foreign those words sound in my head):

I want to be in Theatre School, but being completely honest, what I miss is the experience, not the prospective job opportunities. I want to learn acting and I want to act, but I don't want to be a full-time actor. I knew that before enrolling the first time and my opinion hasn't changed since. So learning a trade would be my best shot right now. It doesn't look fancy in my CV like a degree, yet I can always fill my dramatic vocation with short courses. I don't like things that don't look fancy but... -_-

There aren't any other trades that interest me right now, even if there are some at which I could fare better by my natural abilities.

How do you feel about nursing?

"Absolutely disgusting".

No but seriously, I could be a good assistant, nurse or medic, even a surgeon, but I just don't like it. At all. It's not the guts, the gore, the instrumental or even the eerie hospital atmosphere (I love it, I remember how I would sneak in closed floors and dark corridors when I was a kid. Maybe I still do). I don't dislike that world, the same as I don't dislike... agricultural engineering, for instance. But it's not my path. Unless we're talking about helping in conflict zones. Otherwise nah. I want adventure. Maybe I'm young and idiot.


We're so close it sometimes feels awkward. Like a mother and daughter from one of those american or german awful movies of sunday afternoon. Maybe there aren't such movies in your country. If that's the case I'm sincerely glad for you.

Now I'm feeling meeting my friend is a terrible idea. I'll talk to him about it, he'll surel proba maybe understand my fear of games is well-founded.

hitting the bottom

This would be actually good news; if I could recognize the point where I can't go lower, I could recognize the point where things could go only better. But things could always go worse. Until you set some kind of mental "red line" I guess.

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How about university then? It seems the only choice you're presenting is between trades and drama.

I also think you should give yourself full credit for the amount of time you haven't been playing, but it's your call of course.

Edited by Marchosias
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I can't go to University, I don't have the High-School Degree (Baccalaureate)

Q. Get it then?

A. A fourth attempt? Two years surrounded by teenagers doing something I both hate and find hard? No. Never. Absolutely never. 

Q. But wasn't Dramatic Arts a college/university?

A. Yes but no, that's why I could enter. Legislation bullshit.

Day 8... 

...was completely wasted laying in bed. Nothing was accomplished today.

On 2/11/2016 at 8:23 PM, Marchosias said:

I also think you should give yourself full credit for the amount of time you haven't been playing, but it's your call of course.

Well, yes, I haven't been playing and that's an accomplishment by itself. But my main objective is having a life so I can struggle avoiding letting games ruin it. That's way harder, it takes active action. Quit playing, in my case, takes passive action: /not/ playing. I don't want to downplay its merit. It's just... I know what I mean.

Since I don't have anything to report today and I've been losing focus and motion lately, I think it's... 


[Cue Sir Michael Hordern's narrating voice]

By what means Hitaru ended in Dramatic Arts and screwed his life shortly after

I was 16 and had just finished compulsory education. My school offered Baccalaureate but decided to transfer schools to that of my "friends" from that moment and flee from many bad memories (bullying during mid-school). Long story short, something awful happened (conspiracy-tier happenings), I lost said "friends", got separated from the rest, quit school and ended in a terrible co-dependent relationship. We supported each other's delusions for two years. Absolute madness. But hey, I'm going to have great writing material thanks to that. I love a good dark story or mindfuck, even if it's based on my own experiences. I value dramatic tension over happiness in my life.


Like our dear Marchosias would say, now would be the perfect timing for a middle-aged female psychologist to prattle about me having problems and the like. See how much I care about such assessments, dreadfully worried indeed, huh. I've never tried my luck with a female psychologist by the way, maybe my subconscious is somehow cross-gendered and would be the ideal choice actually...? (Also, could someone explain to me how to tag? Much appreciated! ;))

I broke up with this girl and there I was, uneducated, my mind a mess and games as my only company.


WAIT! Before I go on. She did not make me insane. No, no, NO! Such a cliché! "Thankfully" my mind was all messed up before meeting her, coupling with her was just logical conclusion. She doesn't have that kind of protagonism in my psyche. Please make that clear in my movie.

>Histrionic personality disorder 

'scuse me. As I was saying...

The first thing I did after breaking up was taking a (much needed) shower and cut my hair. Then, somewhat similar to Cam, I started to go out, seeking out acquaintances and distant friendships lost in the way. The idea was good but the results were terrible. By the end of 2013, 8 months after the breakup if I recall correctly, it was pretty clear I wasn't going anywhere with that plan. New Year's Eve, my self-imposed final exam, was a complete disaster. A lifelong friend even gave me the cold shoulder because his new college friends found me "a weirdo". 

Talking to the same and only person for months had left me scarred, I wasn't even aware of it until I began to go to parties and taking theatre lessons. I noticed how I would stutter and speak in a robotic manner in any social setting, from pure nervousness. At first I couldn't even open my mouth to say my name. It wasn't shyness but something else. I was completely stuck, at a loss for words. Terrifying in hindsight. On top of that, I couldn't (and still can't) answer to the question "What do you do?", since "Nothing" is not a valid answer. Please think about this. When you meet someone for the first time, the first question is always "What's your name", and then of course comes a "What do you do" (in life, what do you study, work, value, etc.). They have the same value. Can you imagine not being able to answer what your name is? It's crippling. An instant defeat. That's why I'm not very fond of social gatherings.

Why theatre? I don't remember when it began exactly. I used to be terribly self-conscious, I hated singing, performing of any kind, child movies, talent contests... but at the same time I had my time as amateur stand-up comedian child. Any way, by the start of my first year of Baccalaureate I was certain I wanted to try. I joined the school's theatre club, led by the principal and also teacher and...  it was pure bliss. There was nothing like that in my former school. I... I can't grasp the full extent of it. I was the bullied kid, the weirdo, the failed nerd, and suddenly I got the main role in that year's play right from the start and everyone was praising me for something I couldn't even start to expect of having talent at. Well, I was arrogantly confident in my ability before joining, but it was completely unfounded, a self-defense mechanism. And yet there I was. For the first time it had nothing to do with talent and expectations, I had already left behind a thing or two which I was fairly good at in the past. 

It was the goofy smile when I was on stage. It was the hurried lunches with my peers before rehearsals. Being part of a group of equals, even if they were younger, older, smarter, more social, more successful, happier, it didn't matter. It was the shine in their eyes brimming with approval and the spring in my step. It was the anticipation, looking forward to something from the first and only time in my life. I'd like to say "I'd never give up on that even if I was the worst actor in the world", and... I'd be lying. But I didn't need to be the best either and being me that was incredible. I wanted to share my trade, I wanted the applause of course, but I was my main judge and patron, not the other way around. It was about my own fulfillment. For the first time. The day of the premiere was undoubtedly the happiest in my life. Even if by then I had already quit school and was in the middle of the 'Friendspiracy'. Stuff happened later during summer, but that moment wasn't ruined. Nothing could have ruined it. I could have died that day; I wish I did. It felt like everything was already done, what else I had to achieve in life? I didn't care at all.

Back to the nearer past again, I started with theatre lessons both to help my social skills and recover my lost passion. It didn't last long. By November I wasn't going anymore and for the next months I dabbled between void projects, each one exponentially less compelling than the last.

And so March arrived. Probably the 6th. Thursday night. I was reading The Element. There was this british woman who had studied sciences but wanted to be a comedian. Said something about going for what you wanted, no looking back, jumping straight at it. Then something clicked in my mind. I don't know what the hell happened. I just felt I had enough, I wasn't going to spend my life reading about people bragging about their success, even if it wasn't their intention. I wasn't going to be a resented human waste. I wasn't going to grow old at mommy's place.

I packed the book, underwear, socks, a towel (Douglas Adams tribute maybe), a bottle of water and all the money I could find at home, said goodbye to grandma dismissing all questions (It was near midnight, you know the thing elders have with time) and stepped outside. This woman I read about went to London to learn about the scene. I was keenly interested in politics back then, even joined the Socialist Party Youth (which now I somewhat regret, it may or may not work against me in the future), so by "logic" I had to go to the epicenter of the country's politics, Madrid. There I could visit some places and something would happen. Something inspiring. That was the plan.

My first stop, the hospital. My mother was working a night shift. I showed up there and explained to her what was all that about. She looked at me with a mix of tired disbelief and shame. She wasn't in the mood for jokes and I was way too old for that kind of show. I wasn't in the mood too, and so I said: "I'm not looking for your approval, but your assistance. I can go or go back home. If I go back, I'm going to kill myself. I'm already living death after all, it doesn't make much of a difference". I'm not proud of that statement, but I was absolutely sure when it left my mouth. Sometimes I wonder what was that woman's crime to deserve birthing me. Some people have it tough. Anyway I managed to make my point crystalline, she agreed to cooperate and even pay a train ticket to Madrid (quite a handful), but only if I traveled on Monday. Maybe she wanted to buy time, maybe she hoped I would think twice and forget about it during the weekend, like I did with everything else. Maybe both. I don't know about your mothers, but objectively speaking I can't think of a more favorable deal. I could have accepted, go home, then try my luck with everything on my side just some days later.

Except that I didn't. It had to be right now and then.

She fumbled inside her pouch and gave me what little she had on her, 10 or 15 euros. With the 25 I already had it now was 35-40. I couldn't go far with that (I couldn´t go practically anywhere in fact), but couldn't pussy out either. So I went to the train station and was closed, I misunderstood the schedules and had to wait out in the cold from 1:00 to 6:00 ignoring all calls and texts from home and feeling really stupid. I was about to give up when I met a traveler. He asked me about the time of opening, apparently made a misjudgement similar to mine. He was talking in English and was pleased at having found an English speaker the first try (my government will end banning me for this kind of comments). He introduced himself as some kind of Australian-Italian wanderer and asked about my travel. I drearily told him I just fled home and wasn't really sure about what to do next. He said something in the lines of "Well, I was in your shoes time ago" and gave me 20 euros out of the blue. And a coffee. I didn't know what to say, it took me completely by surprise. I should have started crying, but I didn't. I still thanked him profusely. It changed my views on so many things, just like that.

With my current budget I still couldn't go to Madrid, but now I could at least reach Seville. I rationalized the change of plans arguing that the party I was supporting was in power there (only there), and I have family living there, so worst case I had a safe haven, which was much more appealing than the certainty of sleeping in the street. I arrived exhausted and took a taxi to the Party's Headquarters, still hoping for anything abnormal to happen... and it was obviously closed. The city was still waking up. So I looked for a place to have breakfast. I took a turn to the left and there was the Dramatic Arts School. I did the obvious thing. Pass by and ignore it. What did you expect? I had only basic education. I was only allowed to study Baccalaureate or a basic trade. I don't go to shops if I don't have money to buy. I had breakfast and returned to the former street. Pass by a second time. Realized I forgot my bag in the bar. Pass by a third. Retrieve my bag. Pass by a fourth. Still closed. Pass by a fifth.
That's when I decided to enter, for the sake of killing time.

It was a restored old building, looking as if taken out from a documentary or a movie with a stereotypical spanish setting. Outright beautiful. You could smell and almost touch art being brewed there. There was an old janitor looking really bored. He greeted me and inquired if I was there to ask about the Access Test. I didn't know a thing about it, apparently was done each year in June, or September if you applied for the Royal Dramatic Arts School in Madrid. I explained my circumstances but he was unfazed. There was another test, a "Maturity Test", and he described it as if I should have known from the beginning. (What's with that name? Since when an exam about Grammar, Maths and English can measure something like "maturity"?). It was aimed for people with at least 19 yo, without Baccalaureate (either NEETs like me or people with job trainings, since the law didn't stated "Baccalaureate or equivalent". And was going to take place in two months. For them it was a legal nuisance, but what about me?

Please summarize my situation. I was completely hopeless, so hopeless to flee my own home, something completely unheard of in my country except for the most extreme dysfunctional families. This whole thing was doomed to tears, either ending up in the street stubbornly refusing to assume my failure or returning home completely crushed for the rest of my miserable life, and everything was my fault. Suddenly one astoundingly improbable coincidence after another led me to be faced with an all-or-nothing situation just some weeks later, and the possibility of having access to superior studies in something I loved that same year. You don't watch this shit in movies. What were the chances? Heaven's Doors suddenly opened and I saw Jesus Christ smiling at me sitting atop his godly Harley-Davidson. The whole situation, the escape and now this, it was surreal. Some of you will say "God's will". Who knows. I can only find it surreal, how my life moves forward only when I act out of despair or simply like a fucking idiot or a madman.

Now you can call me a rip-off artist. You may call Paulo Coelho and warn him about some fucker trying to impersonate him. My conscience is clean as new polished marble. This happened. It happened to me.

The next months elapsed in fast forward. I didn't have the material time to think, and that was just what I needed. Maths were my arch-enemy and one of the main reasons I won't risk both time and dignity trying yet again the damned Baccalaureate. Thankfully I had been taking some classes in the last weeks, since one of my void projects was applying to the Armed Forces. My former theatre school was offering specific courses for the Access Exam. I paid a small fortune for them, taking for granted I would pass the Maturity Test. A daring gambit, but the only choice. Speaking about dramatic tension...! Of course I loved the whole situation, even if my whole life was at stake. It was weird. I felt complete. I cherished the possibility of failing as much as the opposite. It wouldn't have been the same without that possibility. Thinking about trying again next year was unacceptable and the recipe for assured failure. It had to be all or nothing. Exactly the kind of choice I like the most, which explains why you won't see me near a casino.

Breaking down the results of the three subjects, I passed the Maturity test with a plain 5/10. If I required a minimum for each individual test I'd have been utterly screwed. When I saw the results I wasn't happy. I wasn't relieved. I just felt it had to happen that way, as if I knew it from the start but at the same time unable to feel proud at my clairvoyance. As if I were a mere spectator. This feeling would appear constantly from this moment onwards. The Access Exam was an essay about one out of three possible works announced beforehand and something I could describe as an audition. The day of the exam the work was finally declared to be "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof". It was the one I had studied the less, maybe because foreign bias. But the film was on TV the weekend pior and I got the chills the day before, like a premonition, so I studied it like crazy and was fresh in my mind during the exam. Other's weren't so lucky. Still another 5. The practice went much better. Physical theatre and Romeo's monologue were awful, but I saved it with poetry reading, sight reading, Trigorin's monologue (The Seagull / Chekhov) and a bit of singing. That feeling of derealization from before helped me a lot. People were crying, freaking out, puking or bragging, but I was just happy to be there, with an idiotic smile similar to Charlie's in the Chocolate Factory. I got one of the best scores on that, Chekhov's monologue suited me like a glove. So 48 lucky people, and I was one of them. 

In summer I met a girl who helped me meet another two in need of a flatmate. She was going to study in my same school. Another improbable coincidence.



She is still my friend, technically, but she's still studying there and we've grown apart. As fucking usual. People don't give a fuck about you unless you're somebody and therefore do something. Friendships and any kind of -ship are not a fucking NGO. (This feeling no longer applies)

[The former paragraph has the Cracked.com seal of approval.] God that site is revolting.


September arrived and I was a proud and happy Performing Arts student. Finally, a purpose! Finally, an answer to the question "What do you do?"! My social life skyrocketed. My stutters disappeared. My classmates and teachers were too perfect, as if stereotyped. As if it wasn't real at all. It couldn't be so perfect. I couldn't ask for more.


I felt Chad as fuck.

Except it was too much for me. I got scared. During that summer I did nothing but play videogames all day, like the former years. My studies required full time dedication and military commitment, 24/7. I wasn't ready for that after years of being a NEET. I wasn't ready to take care of myself. God, my grandma still takes breakfast to my bedroom! I'm fucking disgusting! Useless! Spineless! I completely deserve what happened. 

And what happened was the obvious. I played videogames all afternoon, holed up in my room. I masturbated compulsively to relieve stress. I went to bed late without showering and having dinner. I woke up feeling like shit. I started going to class late. Then repeat. Then some day I didn't go. Then another. Then another. Then another. By February again, everything was lost. For the second time I also used fucking a girl as an excuse to avoid classes. There won't be a third. There will be not.

There were several times that my mother had to come and save me, taking me home and forcing me to eat when I was at the brink of starvation and couldn't move by myself. I ended up in the hospital at a point because I had real suicide thoughts for the first time and not just a pessimistic feeling. The night I spent alone in the psychiatric ward was completely nightmare fuel. Until I lost all hope and finally gave up. And here I am now. Back on square one. But even more regretful.

So that's it. That's me. A pampered little fucktard. I can't eat by myself. I can't cook. Everything is done for me. My home is absorbing me. Everything is done for me. My comfort zone is infinite. My skills are none. I only know how to make me and others feel like shit. To complain, to regret, all the fucking time. Ah, and masturbate. Do you get my point? Think about all those africans, all those syrians, all those unfortunate people. Children with chronic diseases. People who were born doomed right from the start. Do you think I'm overdoing it? I'm still right. Think about your own lives. I'm sure most of you didn't have such a chance. It was pinpointed exclusively to me, "Life purpose for dummies". And I threw it to the trash, as if I'll have plenty of those. What the hell I'm supposed to do now, huh? I don't even want to live, even if I don't have the guts to kill myself either. Asking any of you to perform a mercy killing won't work, I'm too narcissistic to let myself getting killed. It's me or nature and I won't. So please, God. Kill me, but don't simply erase me, kill me and put someone deserving in my place. I'm a fucking waste of first-world.

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The spanish version of Once upon a December, from Disney's Anastasia got stuck in my head. I declare it "Former post's official soundtrack". I used to hate child's movies as a child myself. I must be growing older and even more melancholic. The lyrics are disturbingly fitting:



O' sweet voice
come to me,
make my soul to remember.
I still hear what I used,
Once upon a december.

Who embraces me so tender?
I see meadows all around.
All that people, all that bliss
are but shadows to me.

All which was
didn't die
as fire which blazes
Will that voice come again,
once December arrive.

I still hear what I used,
Once upon a december.


My mother watched Goodbye Lenin by my recommendation yesterday and now is being strangely kind to me. She's even kissed me on the cheek by her own accord. Creepy. Tomorrow we're watching Admiral together, and I'll probably indulge in soviet melodramas and junk food by myself. And of course Doctor Zhivago. That's my personal way to devote to the spirit of mainstream romanticism. I'll also try to publish a short text and if I'm melancholic mood enough, read some XIX century french and british poetry. What could be any better than that?


A qt gf?

You don't understand anything, sigh.
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It sounds like formal education may not work for you. Perhaps you could consider working online and acquiring the needed skills on your own. It's what Cam does.

After reading your last post, I think you should also consider giving theater another shot. Your family seems to tolerate your inactivity, so I guess time is not a huge issue here; however, you need to keep moving. You owe it to yourself, to your future self.

Making money online is a huge topic; you can have a look at the categories on Fiverr for some ideas.

The main takeaway for me, after reading your story, is that you do strive for something more. You do take action. Yes, there were massive time spans of inactivity, indulging in games and other negative habits, but consider how many people do that and just remain in that state.

You could have started bashing people over the internet for hours, you could have turned to drinking, or you could have joined pages like Wizardchan to complain how women and entire society are unfair and deranged. And perhaps you have at some point, but still, here you are. Flawed, yet striving towards something better.



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- Day 11 (of 90 days of Life Improvement): [EDIT: I SAID DAY 11 BUT I JUST RECEIVED 15 DAYS SURVEY. MFW CAN'T INTO BASIC MATHS]

Days since last game: 25

Days since last VN: Perhaps a week

Days since last Steam game: A lot! Two months probably


I'm feeling suicidal again. I recognize it because the idea of cutting my throat with a kitchen knife doesn't inspire fear or rejection, but feels actually plausible instead. Like it would feel if you were thinking about going for a walk and buy some coffee or staying home instead. I recognize the danger to my safety in a non-instinctive way. I mean I have to make an effort to think it's probably not the best idea. Thankfully thinking is easy for me, so it doesn't take a big effort at all. A tired sigh ends it all and the feeling is replaced by a harder to handle but way safer feeling of failure and defeat. I survived another day, yay, but why? It doesn't feel like a victory at all. Not even like a battle. Just a hassle.

I refused to go to drawing classes despite I was so anxious to go I even slept with clothes on. I've been flirting quite successfully with a girl lately, via text, but I couldn't care less. Writing simply doesn't flow. Oh, but at least I finished the first translation of GQ related material, it felt wonderful yesterday. Today, however...

I have the feeling I won't be able to give a fuck about anything until I decide the most important decision, what I'm going to do with my near future. I seem to work that way, I can't focus on minor things until I sort the big ones. But enjoying minor things is key to decide the big ones, so I'm a bit screwed. Everything feels boring and annoying. "Oh, so I need to solve who I am? Yeah, sure, why not, sigh."

thanks for sharing your story!

How does it feel to write all that stuff about yourself down?

You're truly welcome.

It feels terrible, like a hearing at court. I would declare me guilty of all charges. Half of it I was unlucky and the other half I deserve everything. But there's no room for improvement, and that's my fault. It feels like I was gifted with everything but nature gave me a psychological handicap to balance it. Like performing photosynthesis in a high-class restaurant.

After reading your last post, I think you should also consider giving theater another shot. Your family seems to tolerate your inactivity, so I guess time is not a huge issue here; however, you need to keep moving. You owe it to yourself, to your future self.

Making money online is a huge topic; you can have a look at the categories on Fiverr for some ideas.

The main takeaway for me, after reading your story, is that you do strive for something more. You do take action. Yes, there were massive time spans of inactivity, indulging in games and other negative habits, but consider how many people do that and just remain in that state.

You could have started bashing people over the internet for hours, you could have turned to drinking, or you could have joined pages like Wizardchan to complain how women and entire society are unfair and deranged. And perhaps you have at some point, but still, here you are. Flawed, yet striving towards something better.

This Fiverr stuff is awesome! Thanks a lot!

I couldn't become an asshole because of my own problems. At my worst people just seem annoying NPCs. Why would I unleash a shitstorm over an NPC? It's not their fault being there. That's my own view, I understand the reward processes behind hate. Alcohol and drugs? Nah. I have mysterious cravings for the first, sometimes really intense, but I keep them at bay nicely.

Strive, huh. I don't know sir. I really don't know. Sometimes I feel all proud and mighty, deserving, and I act accordingly. Others it just doesn't make any sense, as now. Others I feel I don't want to be a nuisance but even that doesn't push me. 

You know... if I'm going to die anyway, there are many times I feel I want to spend my days doing nothing in particular. Meditating. Helping people. Working with my hands, writing on commision, taking care of the environment, watching the clouds. Some kind of monastic or ascetic life, yes. But studying any kind of religion would surely bore me to death. Or perhaps not? And what if I want to do something else in life? Can I study something while in a monastery of any sort? If the answer was positive I'd sign right now.

[EDIT: I was feeling like shit but I saw who is probably the worst journalist in my country (and therefore my obvious favorite) on TV and now I feel strangely invigorated. The motherfucker keeps writing in some of the most relevant media about how women deserve to be beaten because they're sluts, letting your daughter or girlfriend go to Erasmus makes you an instant cuckold, foreigners deserve to die, Deus Vult bullshit and so on. An extremely amusing aberration.]

[EDIT 2: I saw this in Marchosias' Journal and tried my own:


I wasn't expecting that... but seems logical. I guess is the technical definition of 

just want everybody to chill for five damn seconds

while being a skeptical bastard. So I'm a thing now? While thinking about it I'll start with the basics: the beard. History teaches us left becomes evil in direct proportion to lack of facial hair.

Edited by Hitaru
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Fiverr is just one of such sites. There are many others, and they all employ various models. Some make you write applications for every single job, some require you to hold a certain rating to even qualify for jobs. Fiverr relies on how well can you promote yourself heavily; you need to offer something to make your potential clients comfortable with hiring you. Some people create personal websites to display their past work.

There are also other ways to make money online: they basically boil down to selling other people's stuff (products/services) or selling your own stuff.

I think that yes, you can probably go live in a some sort of a monastery and then spend a sizable amount of time studying. It may require that you become an actual priest, and it's likely to include physical work from what I know. Men have been doing that for hundreds of years: leaving the society to live in (relative) solitude and contemplation. I'm wondering how good of an option is it for anyone though.

Just today, I've heard a remark about how The Catholic Church's made a grave mistake by taking its most intelligent men and locking them away, prohibiting them from procreating ... while in the Jewish community marrying a rabbi is still considered a jackpot. Fast forward multiple generations and bang, enjoy your IQ differences (Ashkenazi Jews > Asians > Whites), goyim.

Edited by Marchosias
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- Day 12 16

I finally arrived to this conclusion. I could try my luck in trade learning and if it really isn't my thing I could always finish it (two years it's not so long), change it or even leave it after the first year and try theatre again. I've been wasting year after year doing nothing, I should be ok investing the next one or two actually trying to find my path. I'll be busy doing something in the mornings, which will fill the void of having a purpose. Learning something not emotionally engaging and not of my first tier of priorities, so I won't grow dispassionate or anxious about it. Being social and mentally challenged. And still with time to develop hobbies and other passions (which could include theatre as well). And who knows, I could end loving that trade.

That's the idea. It reminds me of the void projects of the past. But at least this is quite achievable. On the other hand, I hunger for a challenge and this seems like a downgrade. Who am I trying to fool? I can't even do the most basic things by myself! That's why I failed with theatre the first time! My eternal contradiction; I'm never satisfied with anything. 

So now I'm left with months of apparent inactivity waiting until classes begin. And cravings! I could spend all these months playing mindlessly. Or, sigh, trying to improve my life. Or half and half, but it would end being the first. People usually feel uncertainty, fear, anger, and I also do, but now I think about the future and I feel extreme boredom. I don't feel like doing anything at all. Not even things I enjoyed a week ago. Nice job breaking it! I mean myself, the detox and the forums are pure awesomium. I'm a veteran, hah! I've never been a veteran in anything. Yesterday I won against an intense craving for Civ. Today I may not be so lucky. I'm not too worried though, perhaps I need a relapse now and then to hit the bottom one or two more times and regain my determination. Or begin building it at least. But I can't shake the feeling anything I do is a wrong choice.

Unrelated: I had a dream about this forum in which someone anonymous was complaining of my presumptuous and terrible use of English. I'll try to improve it even if just in case.

Edited by Hitaru
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I discovered the detox is on since February 1st, so it's going to be easy to keep track from now on B| 

I wrote before "not going to be hard" and changed it. I have to start thinking, talking and writing in positive terms. 

- Day 19

Friday... before morning. Thursday night but technically Friday, you know. What does my detox stand for? I've been clean for more than 19 days and yet I haven't made an specific goal to accomplish at the end of these 90 days. I think the mere fact of being aware you've decided to detox can be enough, as Cam usually says, to at least think about the current situation and visualize a life without games. Fair enough, but still feels a bit... the word is not "empty". Perhaps "too general". Like, I'm just sitting here waiting for something to happen.

-> Specifically, I've been completely clean for 29 days, and I'm absolutely sure hours played in all of January don't exceed 25. They must be around 20.

-> And Steam-clean since... Oh my god! December 15th! Which means that, except for 2 hours of a free VN I sometimes read, I haven't touched ANY Steam game for 16 days plus ALL of 2016 so far! Whoa, I didn't expect it to be so much time. That makes... 65 days!! Astounding. Now I can understand why cravings have been so intense lately.

But I still waste all my time doing nothing at all! Literally laying on the couch all day. Except for two days of rehearsals and one day of drawing class. 6 hours plus let's say 4 hours of related activity (getting ready to go, going, returning home...) makes 10 hours. I'm busy 10 hours a week. Rest of the week laying on couch. Many times sleeping on the same couch. Practicing for the coffin, huh? Completely unacceptable!

Such shamefur dispray bring great dishonor...!

Ahem. So here I am, for example, 4.35am right now. That's the perfect example of not having a standardized and proper time management. And I still waste a LOT of time watching game film or general idiocies. The price I usually have to pay to avoid a detox usually is 2-4 hours of watching others play, or stupid videos on YT. Or, well, writing a looooong journal post, like now. Worth it, even more now that I know it's been 65 days. Wow, 65 days. I could write it again and again and still sound so alien.

My social life has plummeted, I lost contact in these months (September-February) with almost every single friend. 

I've been the one hiding, ashamed of my idleness and lack of direction. And going out, except when projects-related, has been an extremely unpleasant, stressful and unsatisfactory activity, for reasons I detail below:

My social interactions work like this:

1. I can't talk about myself, so I remain silent, just enjoying the company and surroundings. People always end assuming I'm not having a good time. They repeatedly ask if I'm alright or bored. Hm, perhaps there's a cultural clash here. For the average southern spaniard is very, and I mean very uncanny to be around silent people. I talk plenty myself (that may be an added reason for their insistence), but always with a message in mind. Unlike many fellow countrymen, I daresay...


By the way, do you also get the impression I talk and make references about my country a lot? I wasn't aware of that. Maybe it's curiosity I feel about other cultures which makes me want to share plenty of things and thoughts about my own, subconsciously expecting others to act the same way in turn. And an inappropriate and childish habit (I admit) of making fun of others countries with an endless stream of stereotypes, intertwined with a bigger, more general, and even more childish and inappropriate habit of "poking" and teasing people with sensible topics.

I'm also greatly interested in learning stereotypes about Spain, since 99.9% of jokes, criticism and hate I hear about us comes from the inside. Your help is crucial and would be extremely appreciated!

That's probably the primary reason why we can't have nice things and into space or economy, @Marchosias, being spaniard means being raised in 400 years of continuous victimism, defeatism, and ignorance of our own history.

"[Our history] mainly held and recorded by britons and (chauvinist) fascists, both traditional enemies of our peoples [...]". 

Spanish histrionic victimism at its finest. Quote by Arturo Pérez-Reverte, author of the Capitán Alatriste book saga (adventures of a fictional and therefore stereotyped 17th century dashing anti-hero, doing most spaniard things, like be in continuous trouble because of clerics and women, drink heavily, heroically kill dutchmen, starve and be poor, perform selfless acts of sacrifice or even fight former friends for the sake of some corrupt, retarded and undeserving aristocrat... being a spaniard, in a nutshell.

And of course the magnificent, absolutely not mexican moustache, the long, absolutely not mexican hat, the cape and the sword. 

S-sorry about that little, petty genocide, dutchmen :( 

(I'd say it was in good faith but...)

Certainly not the best country to start a business or quit an addiction. Egad! I could research about how the different cultural treatment of failure affects the recovering of addictions! It's been already researched how it has affected our economy (For example, a north-american is more encouraged to be independent and enterprising while here work abroad, leave the family behind or start a business was broadly regarded as a bad idea; or northern europeans having worse weather and therefore gathering less, becoming less gregarious but more diligent). And since in my culture "to lose" generally makes you a "loser"... Double egad! The potential social and psychological implications are both fascinating and terrifying!


AS I WAS SAYING, excuse me...!

2. I talk about the only topic I'm confident enough, my problems. Talking about hobbies leave me the impression I'm avoiding the main concern in my life, achieving a purpose. I feel I'm fooling myself and even if a had plenty of hobbies, (not the case currently) I'd still feel uncomfortable talking about them. So, my problems. People do their best to empathize and while I'm grateful, precisely that's why I don't want to bother (and bore) them. More. Anymore. It creates a negative, pessimistic aura around me.

3. A few people even bring the subject on the table before I have the chance of talking (and driving it off), delivering a long argumentation usually appealing to feelings and dramatic existentialism ("Time is merciless, you must hurry...!") to urge me into choosing a path, generally artistically related (writing, acting...). And I end up feeling like shit afterwards, as you can imagine. Happened yesterday and I'm still affected. Probably happening today as well. 

Pleeeease, gimme a break...! I guess now that I've SOMEWHAT made a decision and SOMEWHAT feel I have a direction I can always meet new friends or even the old ones without feeling out of place, but stoically refuse to talk about myself, how I'm feeling or my past. So questions "How are you feeling?", "What have you been doing lately?" "What are your plans for...?" or the dreaded "What do you do?" are banned. How could anybody hold a meaningful, pleasant conversation on equal terms and keep a healthy closeness with ANYONE under such conditions? It's just ridiculous! It's a dead end.

- Accept yourself and let go

The first: Okay, in the intimacy or closed environments (such as this). The second: Never! People don't give a fuck about vulnerable men. People want strength, confidence, clear-sightedness! I don't want to disappoint you, but showing weakness is the easiest way to lose network, potential works, friends, lovers... which is exactly why I feel so damn bored and weary about being social. I don't feel like playing the game of life. I'm not in the mood.

But I guess I still need to do it? Everything a chore, everything a chore, don't you slack with those oars, oh brave Volga boatmen...

8:00! Well at least now I know for sure it's day 19. 

A person I hold very dear in my heart made a drawing of me for theatre, so "work-related" purposes. It's a rough sketch, and she kept saying it wasn't a big deal, but I got instantly drawn to it. It has... something, which depicts me perfectly, better than any photograph up to date (even if they aren't precisely many...). I'll end today's post showing it to you:



Pleased to meet you, I guess...! 

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Hi, Hitaru. It seems that you've out-leveled me due to my recent adventure.

Stop triggering me by mentioning VNs! VNs are not games! (I normally prefer to argue the opposite, but not here.)

Also fuck you, your nation conquered and/or culturally influenced half the world. My nation is basically 2 million peasants whose greatest achievements are just having a language and an independent country (>implying a country of 2 million can be anything more than a vassal). STOP QQ <3<3<4567iikghkgfh58th

be in continuous trouble because of clerics and women, drink heavily, heroically kill dutchmen, starve and be poor, perform selfless acts of sacrifice or even fight former friends for the sake of some corrupt, retarded and undeserving aristocrat

Sounds like me (except heroical killings and being selfless). Perhaps I'm secretly a Spaniard myself? And also clerics. How does one get in trouble with clerics? I suppose that was a lot easier in 17th century than today.

I know what you mean though. Spain is not the only European country that would benefit from more entrepreneurial spirit. The worst nightmare of a Slovene is to see his friend succeed and move out of the muddy village they all grew up in. On the other hand, there probably are benefits to strong family ties and things.

People don't give a fuck about vulnerable men

At least you have a penis. Imagine a life without having a penis.

I hope you've enjoyed these valuable self improvement insights.

Edited by Marchosias
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- Day 26

It couldn't last. After a terrible week full of terrible feelings and avoiding everything and everyone, I had a relapse. Or maybe I should say "Introspective analysis of the effects of gaming in my cognitive processes". 

I expected to sink in weeks and weeks of gaming to no end. I've spent some good hours with several games for several days and suddenly realized something.

I wasn't going to bed late. I wasn't waking up early to play. I was playing for a while, eating "normally", then playing for a while, but also listening to music, watching TV or Internet silliness. I wasn't absorbed as I used to be.

I was bored.

Bored! I was playing, yes. I was having fun, yes. But I was fully aware of myself. My situation didn't change. I can't disconnect anymore with games. 

So, I'm here again. Now the only thing I can do is to move forward and try new things, because games won't do for me anymore. I can play, but I realize I'm wasting time. Not because gaming is not an acceptable pastime, but I feel I'd rather be doing other things. That's awful. Awful, you hear me!? Now I have to do stuff!

It was bound to happen. I guess is a huge step. Now I know games bore me. And social games are meh, so perfect. Really, I'm in a very advantageous situation. I mustn't underestimate the influence games still have over me, but I think I won this round. 

Today is holiday here, so my theatre rehearsal was yesterday. I wanted to explain my sudden absence the week before but I was too focused in making a good impression and time just flew. A great success, I dusted off the bad sensations of previous days. It was already settled, but still I made clear I'm the star there, hah!

I went to collect my Secondary Education Degree, after six years waiting for me in my school. "His Royal Majesty [...] hereby grants...". Such grandiloquence. Like knighthoods of old. We haven't changed at all, us humans. Anyway, one of the most irritating chores I had on the list, done.

I was so bored this week, I went and tried something I had on mind for some time now: flamenco dancing. The past me would be outraged. That calls for some insight.

When I was little I was basically a stuck-up asshole. Everything gave me what we would call "vergüenza ajena", or Fremdscham in German. Basically, anything artistically related, dancing, singing, or culturally rooted would give me the creeps. I couldn't stand all those fucking peasants worshiping their peasant traditions. Or children in contests. Or anyone trying to be innovative, especially if business-related. I still can't, they're full of crap, pretentiousness and are basically posers. But I missed many chances of having fun, making friends and being a healthy human being, and I couldn't tolerate that. 

So I developed the habit of trying things I'd find the farthest of my perceived identity. "The last thing I would picture me doing". The first one was theatre, and I couldn't be happier with that decision. Seriously people, go out of your comfort zone. Worst case you'll have some laughs. If you're doing something you think you shouldn't be doing, how could you end being disappointed? That's your little ego crying out, I know it too well. You have to be a pro from the start even in things you think you don't like or aren't your natural element. See the fallacy?

So there, I went and tried. Of course I was the only man in the whole academy. I did terrible. I talked to no one. Everything in my personal manual I could do wrong, I did. 

And somehow I had a great time.

I went home and for once I wasn't thinking about quitting. Maybe the next month, but not now. So, for the next days at least, I've found something I don't need to be good at to feel fulfilled, because it's so unlike me, even being decent would be an astonishing and improbable scenario. A really pleasant one, for the same reason. 

Who knows, perhaps I'm at the gates of being an awesome dancer just because I'll practice a lot only for the laughs and master it without being aware. Sounds totally like me. Not the best example of personal development and self-management, but if works, to hell with it. I won't be picky.


Why would I ever want that? Who knows. I find the idea absurd. Laughable.


And I do since I was really little. Perhaps I should seriously go for it. Even if it's completely nonsense. If life's goal is to be happy, and I seem to be happy pissing on ideologies, traditions and sociocultural constructs, then what else could I do? I was born that way.



1. Theatre: In progress.

2. Fencing: In progress. I have basic skills and took lessons but had to quit because my terrible physical condition. I'll start again as soon as I can. Then I'll go for historical recreation.

3. Dancing: In progress. Flamenco, sevillanas and pasodobles, at least.

4. Singing: Several folk styles. Fondly despised by the nationals. Fondly because it's an ambivalent feeling.

5. Bull-fighting: I absolutely refuse to kill a sentient being for the amusement of some peasant fascists, but I can still learn the technique. It will do wonders for my posture, strength, and popularity if I travel abroad!

6. Sailing: Obviously. Comes in hand with 8. 

7. Poetry: Sonnets. SONNETS! And some Romanticism. 

8. Religion?: Eugh. Some religious studies (Catholic, of course!) and insights. Extravagant idioms and expressions. Visit many, many churches. 

9. Languages: Catalan, Basque and Galician.

10. Traditions: Football, Ferias, Holy Week and Carnival for my own region, and other regional traditions from the overall territory.

Bonus: Looks. Which looks? I must ponder it more deeply. 

Some people want to improve in life. Find a job. Find love. I just want to be entertained. Maybe I should be playing. ¬¬

Tfw you wanna be Lope de Vega but end like Quevedo

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I've gone back to gaming multiple times. I played WoW from 2007 and the first time I tried to quit was in 2008, so I can speak with some authority here.

Just like the first beer after a long abstinence tastes off and not that intriguing, going back to games may feel boring at first. You may even actively tell yourself how boring it is because your brain wants to keep playing, yet it also knows addiction is a terrible thing. So, this is boring; therefore, I can play in moderation, and therefore I can become a casual player. Except you can't. You never ever will.

At the same time, everyone has to come to their own conclusions. The power and meaning of addiction is something that has to be experienced (often multiple times) in order to be understood.

Flamenco dancing? WTF.

Going out of your comfort zone is huge!


Congratulations on that. Pls report how it goes. But I don't understand how is it possible to be the only man there ... yet not speak to anyone. Surely the girls were interested? I just can't imagine that scenario.

Also fencing, wow. It's common among gamers to have an aversion to physical activity, but it that doesn't seem to be your problem :3.


Edited by Marchosias
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Just like the first beer after a long abstinence tastes off and not that intriguing, going back to games may feel boring at first. 

Congratulations on that. Pls report how it goes. But I don't understand how is it possible to be the only man there ... yet not speak to anyone. Surely the girls were interested? I just can't imagine that scenario.

It's common among gamers to have an aversion to physical activity, but it that doesn't seem to be your problem :3.

I feel you there, SO MUCH, I almost fell for the "boring" trap. I could sense how it was more and more appealing to play just to shrug off boredom (if that's even a verb/thing). However I'm clean again, this week was over in a breath. So even if I'm still struggling with filling the void, keeping myself away from games is becoming easier. Excellenciousness!

Perhaps they were too shocked to see me? 80% of students are recent retirees so the generational clash is huge. And it was just the first day so it's not so serious. I couldn't go this week because family issues (Grandma has begun to literally run away when no one's home). On tuesday I'll go anyway, "y que sea lo que Dios quiera". 

I have nothing against physical activity. Just normal laziness and a fair bit of self-consciousness with my body. It's just about being too thin and frail, so I can always solve it with sport and nutrition. And that is hard. Really. Losing weight must be a bitch (I'll probably never know), but keeping in your healthy figures is equally tough no matter where you come from.


be in continuous trouble because of clerics and women, drink heavily, heroically kill dutchmen, starve and be poor, perform selfless acts of sacrifice or even fight former friends for the sake of some corrupt, retarded and undeserving aristocrat

And also clerics. How does one get in trouble with clerics?


At least you have a penis. Imagine a life without having a penis.

 *GASP* (No offense)

Yeah, and I though I was cool for taking walks and considering bodyweight exercises. Meanwhile, this guy is fencing and dancing flamenco.

And I still can't push myself into taking walks or even considering bodyweight exercises. Score is even. ;)

I think going jog for 10-20min every day is on of the best habbits I created for me. Keeps me gooing and has riple effects on other areas of my life( I like to think about nutrition now for example, I sleep better too)

I think you're absolutely right. Staying inside everyday is becoming increasingly unbearable. The day will arrive when I'll go for a jog too, and it's quite near. I'll update on it when I finally do it, but I feel it will be a great decision.


- Day 34

Quick update. Week was a bit chaotic. Failed some habits. Making a schedule has become an absolute must. I'll try to stick to it next week, then update again. I had a conversation with my best friend about my role as volunteer translator and he was fully supportive, filled me with determination. So now translations are advancing steam-powered (and not Steam-powered, hah). 

I think I made a HUGE breakthrough in my quest towards identity. Not the spaniard stereotype, I mean my inner, most fundamental self. It's highly introspective, private, confidential, probably dangerous to my mental wellbeing, but the potential applications of this new line of research are... intriguing. And thrilling! I can't wait to obtain and measure the first results, even if I can share virtually none of them.

obtain and measure

As if I was my own little science project. DIY psychological survey, one person only. Isn't science lovely? Some people dabble with drugs, I dabble with PTSD. Is something wrong with me, I wonder...?

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  • 2 weeks later...

- Day 47

An absolute mess. Hard relapse, lost all hope, skipped every activity... utter chaos. My best friend stepped in with his white charger and heroically pulled me out of the hole. He's determined, optimistic, passionate, loyal. We've made a schedule together and arranged to be accountability partners to each other. A life-saver.

There's only one problem about him.

He's an aspiring videogame developer and Computer Engineering student.

Two problems actually.

He wants us to become a team, me being the scriptwriter and perhaps tinker (given my current knowledge) some soundtracks.

So he (unintentionally) planted doubts in my almost certain decision to study a trade (Grado Medio). Specifically, I told him about my translations here (actually I've been translating now and then since very young) and went all enthusiastic about it. Perhaps a bit too... pushy. In fact he wants me to be some kind of translator/community manager of some sort. Those doubts created me a sense of uncertainty and fear and everything went to shit. A shit he then proceeded to help me clean.

So it's kinda contradictory. What should I do about him? He's my best friend. He has trouble understanding my detox but he's respectful nonetheless. But his constant chatter about games it's not exactly helpful or relaxing. He can't help it though. After all, we're supposedly making a game together...!

[My secret research (not so secret, "low profile" more accurately), is going better than expected. I was overreacting when mentioned PTSD. I just have to be careful, at least that's my current assessment. But I have great expectations about it. This is going to be fun.]

- "Fixed" activities: 

- Dancing classes
- Drawing classes
- Theatre rehearsals (until April)

- Scheduled activities (with my friend):

- Drawing
- Translating
- Preparing English Test (at least B2, perhaps C1 but I think that's still beyond my level)
- Programming (I MUST learn to make Visual Novels I swear to God)
- Learning to make music using computer programs 
- Watch anime and series to find muses to draw (in anime) and perhaps good arguments and tropes (in series).
- Bit of exercise (Gym)

- Still un-scheduled:

- Driving license (may be done with my friend as well in our "work time" together)
- Writing (must be done alone because personal preference, still not sure where and when)
- Weekends
- Leisure activities (sometimes alone, sometimes not)
- Among leisure and perhaps writing, going outside. I found a great spot in the city walls where you can sit and have a great visual of the beach and the sea (and even the archetypal fort, lovely!), while also being covered of the sun. Needless to say, I'll try to go there often. Now is calm, with few people, nice, slightly cool weather... exactly how I love it. Perhaps I'd like it a little more cool but still pleasant.

Things look bright, actually. I'll fuck up some (or many) more times but I think I have the grasp of how's it done, life management and all the jazz. But I still don't know what to do in the mid-term; and this friend of mine and his games... 

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  • 2 weeks later...

- Day 59

Schedule has begun today. No problems so far. Last week was mostly unproductive and immersed in compulsive gaming. At least I helped a friend with his religious duties dressing up as some kind of KKK impersonator and carrying a banner in a parade during Holy Week. No one inside the brotherhood wanted to do it (such hypocrisy) and I was curious about this peasant tradition, so there I was. I'm not religious but I must admit it was fun and beautiful. These gaudy catholics sure know how to put on a show! Being granted entrance to Heaven is a plus. Next thing is pilgrimage to Mecca, just in case. And start thinking in my next reincarnations... 

While taking care of my immortal soul is no joke, I'm more worried about earthly matters. I have good expectations about this new schedule but those voids still worry me. I'm afraid I will mess up the first moment I have free time. AND I've been playing a lot lately.

Even if I'm being useful and productive I still don't have a clear reason to be here besides filling time doing something aside of playing. I should be proud of it, it's an achievement by itself (I could be playing now, for instance) and in a way I am, but I feel doing this stuff is more a mean than an end. I'm here, translating, writing, drawing, studying, ok, but for what higher reason? Yeah, to pass my time. But I could do that by playing as well, I don't want to think life is something you spend being busy just because. I feel better doing this instead of playing so I guess the sense of purpose it's not something that you have but something you develop with time. It's too soon to draw conclusions, I'll keep this routine for some days and update. As always, weekends are the perpetual Sword of Damocles, but fortunately I have several friends to catch up with.

And also as always, my mood is stormy and volatile but in the overall I feel all the fine I can achieve. I'm learning more and more quirks of my disposition are inherited, particularly things about aforementioned mood. I still have control and choice over how I handle this mood, and certainly I do in a different way than my mother (on the inside at least), but being something "natural" and not the result of circumstances means I'll have to struggle with it, with varying results, during all my lifetime. That's not enough to fill me with despair, but it sure is annoying. Anyway I still have two arms, two legs, some brains and with effort I could even be somewhat cute. No matter what my melodramatic self thinks, my life could be far, far worse. 

I'm getting sidetracked. Right, schedule, check, weekend, check, social, check, purpose, check. I guess the only thing left is what to do about games. I think I'm going to start another detox to see if I can life my life with a schedule and without games at the same time. I played yesterday so today is the first day. If I'm correct tomorrow is day 60 so a month would be a valid timespan. But that's getting ahead, let's see if I can survive this week to begin with.

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