Stream Of Consciousness - Blog Posts

clarice has been a great company these days. she speaks about god thru lóri's point of view, her believes, and it sounds a lot camus' absurdism! she says 'if i wanna pray, it would be to the cosmic or to Nothing'.

rainy days and depression, love to see it. 🌧🤍

Biology Notes

A minute by minute summary of my thoughts during bio class.

Countdown begin.

This ain’t gonna be fun.

Only two min in.

She’s late.

How am I already bored?

That guy’s late.

Cal/Boba handcuffed together, working as allies?

Melidaan joins Mandalorian Empire?

I’m bored.

Clones’ first time hearing music

Clones eating real food for the first time?

Clones tour temple? (Where they hear music/eat real food for first time?)

I was right. This isn’t fun.

Soulmate AU for Charles/Erik?

Erik’s POV for first meeting?

Immediate aftermath of said first meeting?

Erik and Raven visit after Cuba?

They meet babies Kurt, Warren, Jean, maybe Scott.

They miss the sign, don’t realize it’s a school? 

‘Did Charles have kids?’ moment, especially after realizing Jean’s a telepath?

Jean recognizes them from memories? All recognize them from photos and/or stories?

All the guilt when Erik sees Charles.

Cells. The powerhouse of, mitochondria is.

Phospholipid. Now there’s a word to make people flip a Scrabble board with.

Nigh impossible, you’d need lipid down first, then add phospho-, but a girl can dream.

Kurt and Warren would be adorable as childhood friends

That guy’s playing Wordle.

That guy is really, really, really bad at Wordle.

People realizing how insanely dangerous Charles is?

Erik realizing how lucky humanity is for Charles’ morality? and being very attracted to that?

Quiz on Friday, 45-50 questions, 50 points. Study slides.

Erik getting attacked by another telepath, Charles going territorial, has other telepath screaming/crying on floor, living worst nightmares, clutching head and begging for it to end, while Charles is gently comforting/fussing over Erik?

That girl is texting.

Is that guy watching Gravity Falls? Great taste.

Aw, why’d you turn the screen that way? Now I can’t see it.

Quinlan switching out Fox’s caf with decaf, letting him fall asleep, tucking him into bed?

While Fox’s asleep, using Shadow Training (TM) to do paper work? (Forgery/Ability to have multiple styli (plural of stylus) filling out multiple data pads simultaneously? (Force use?)

Quinlan leaving five min before Fox wakes up. Fox finding his paper pretty much done, crying because he’s still out of it and doesn’t want to wake up?

Quinlan making this a habit when he’s on Coruscant? Stone finding out, not telling? Fox scared if he talks about it, it’ll go away? Unable to believe it’s real?

That girl’s doing a crossword. Badly.

The answer is Lobelia. “She stole Bilbo’s spoons” is Lobelia Sackville-Baggins. 

Where in Middle-Earth did she get Tauriel from? Even if she hadn’t been added solely for the purpose of paying less in royalties to Tolkien’s family, even if she had existed in the book, when in the name of all that is precious and beautiful, would she have stolen Bilbo’s spoons?

I might kill myself. This is why I shouldn’t have sat in the back row.

Only 6 min left. Heh. +60, Execute Order. I know I’m not funny.

So close, yet so far. So unbearably bored.

Is this what stream-of-consciousness notebooks look like?

I have a very odd stream of consciousness.

We get to leave early? Hallelujah!!

Goodbye!

Unfinished Doc, dated Dec 14, 2022

I’ve been told the best remedy is to let it all out somehow, somewhere. I cannot share my deep dark secrets with those close to me, for fear of worrying them too much. They don’t deserve to carry my burdens, especially when most of those are just results of my perpetual inertia.

 The things I haven’t done in my life are entirely my fault as far as I see it, I am not a victim of circumstance. I could’ve tried harder so many times before.

 Things are too fucked up now and none of it is an easy fix. While I am patient, I am a slut for instant gratification. The thought that I would need to plan, and wait, and wait, for things to get better is terrifying. How the fuck do I do this? How do I climb out of this hole? I don’t have the energy to force myself.

 Something in my mind shuts down at the thought of doing things simply because I “must”. I think when people judge me as immature and childish they’re not wrong. I am unable to click on the “Responsible Adult” persona, instead opting for being a ghost in my own life and in others’.

I’d rather not be perceived so as not to be asked for anything because I have nothing to give. I’m unmoored and empty and failing. Every single day I wake up and… great. Another fucking day. More of this shit in this body that is fucking horrible and I don’t have discipline to make it bend into the shapes I wish it would.

 I wish I was more like my sister who can make herself do the things she needs to do. I don’t even do the things I want. There are so many things I want. And I can’t move to get them. I want to cut my legs off, I want to cut my arms off, I want to put my brain in salty ice water. I want to shave my head, I want to be choked. Or touched, desired would suffice. I wish I had a sex partner. I am not done learning and experimenting. But he seems to be done. He’s always been done. I’m stupid enough to stay here.

 Oh, yeah, also I don’t have any money. I love his company but I need more. I need so much more. I’ve gotten used to being ignored so I do my own thing. But I miss being flirted with and I miss being desired.

 I miss her, because she made me feel fucking amazing but now she does’nt want me anymore either. Because at the end of the day, nobody really does. I’m too complicated and too flawed and too married which is really fuxcking ironic if you think about it. At this point its just a “dont have sex with me “badge because I don’t deserve sex therefore I don’t get it or get it half-assed or get it taken away. 

Im just as good as anybody im just as bad as anybody 

I wish i knew how to play guitar but for real. OR again discipline to actually learn. I want to learn new languages. I want to teach. I want to cook, I want to hike and swim and travel and read and paint 

I want to make masterpieces, take on large intricate projects but I guess I have to start somewhere and I have no idea where to start. I want my art to be in museums. Not international, that doesn’t matter. But locally, that would be nice. For people to want to go see it and stand next to it and observe and see every single tiny detail that I will undoubtedly put into it. A canvas seems so limited, a body seems so limited. I want infinite space for creation. The world could be my canvas if i only wanted it to. Right? 

I dreamt I was at a party at someone’s house. I was hiding out in the bathroom. My

                    Muss weg hier...                         ...hoch...                             muss.                             still.                             sein.....                     Wo bin ich??...                     ...Ich...                         ...kann...                             ...kaum...                                 ...atmen..... Du?!...     ...so hell...                      ...aber unerreichbar......                     Verblasst.                         Verbannt.                             Vergessen.....                     Oh Gott, es tut so weh...                         kann                             nichts                                 retten.....                     Grabe...                         ...tiefer...                                  ...weiter...                         ...einfach weg..... !Ein Funke...                     ...reicht für die Mauer.                     ...Staub in Staub...                         ...Herz in Herz... Stimme?!...     deine Stimme!!...                     ...wo bist du???.....                     Nein... Immer wieder.                          Ich muss!                             ...So bitter.....                     Leere...                         Erstickt...                             So kalt.....                     Eiskalt.....                             Angst..... Offenes Fenster,     Wind,         dein Lachen!?.....                     ...Fäuste geballt. . . .                                                               . . .gestrandet. . .                             . . .nackt. . .                         . . .allein. . . . .                     Säen...                      ernten...                     alles mein Fehler?.....                     ...alles Lügen.....                     Für                      mich...                      Für dich...                                                      Für                             alle...                                                  Für                     gar nichts.....                                           ...Wo                     für?.....

Manchmal versuchen wir, uns in andere Menschen hineinzufühlen, in ihre Ängste, Sehnsüchte und ihren Schmerz. Wenn diese Zeilen dich berühren, dann können sie dir ein Lichtblick sein: Du bist nicht allein.

Kabel an den Schachtwänden ziehen vorbei

Sitze still, nur einige Blicke nach vorn und nach rechts

Schemenhafte Gestalten schweben um mich herum 

Meine Sicht verschwimmt und sucht einen Anker

Zwischen Lichterflackern flüstert leise Dunkelheit

Are u excited to see me?

Do u miss me when I'm gone?

How often do u think about me?

What do u think if u do?

What is it that u see in me?

...And I wonder.

...And I wonder.

thoughts from another day 003

endless consumption leaves no room for thought or solitude or reflection or doing anything meaningful, no wonder I feel like a fucking waste of space. But even though I see this connection, I can't find it in myself to stop. 

(see also: behavioral addiction)

(also see also: reread dopamine nation 👀. also probably digital minimalism and relentless elimination of hurry)

thoughts from another day 002

It’s all ephemeral and transitory and I feel unmoored and adrift with an overwhelming desire to be anchored and secure.

I feel like I’m swirling in this world of ideas and experiences, and I want to reach out and grasp them and capture the abstract with language. The expand and contract - get all of the thoughts and ideas into one place, and then break it down, organize it, understand it; and condense it back down to something cohesive.

But there are two many things there are too many things and ideas and people and complex interactions and relationships and how do you even begin to know where to start, how to start?

I feel like I’m being crushed

thoughts from another day 001

I love getting wrapped up in and enthralled with a story, but it also feels unproductive. Leaves me feeling like lack of motion or progress in actual life. Needs to be in balance with the rest of my priorities. I have a strong immediacy and recency bias, compounded with primarily extrinsic motivation makes me feel unmoored and ephemeral and also stagnant.

Palm sized watercolor

Yeeessss, this is perfect, haha :) I mean, in the second case, I’m pretty sure Jim would re-arrest the heck out of Ed regardless of Oswald’s lack of testimony, but that first scenario is beautiful and I can 100% see Ed doing a super dramatic reveal exactly like that.

I ramble about my feelings on the end of Gotham (and shows ending generally) below the cut...

I’m so not ready for Gotham to end, though. I still haven’t seen last Thursday’s episode, and tomorrow is opening night of the play I’m in so I won’t be able to watch tomorrow’s episode, either (not that I would watch out of order, but like, I could catch up tonight... but also I’m super tired between work and rehearsals and everything, and I don’t want to rush one of the only two remaining episodes of this show I’ve been obsessed with going on a year now). But... urgggh, this is that thing I always run into where I have trouble letting a show go. I so often wind up saving the last 1-4 episodes of a show I love because it’s just hard to finish it, to not have it anymore. I’ve seen all but the last couple of episodes of White Collar, Leverage, Psych, A Series of Unfortunate Events... It’s a thing I do.

But the trouble with Gotham in particular is, well, now I’m on tumblr. I haven’t been able to scroll through my dashboard in a week since the last episode aired and I’m trying not to spoil myself. I did open it a time or two, just to glance at it; just tonight I caught a glimpse of a gifset of Os and Ed hugging after Oswald’s eye wound (which I’ve known about for quite a while from the bts pics, interviews, and trailers) but the hug gave me FEEEELLS and I haven’t even seen the episode and I’m not ready but also I want to see it? Uggh once this play is over I’m just going to have to watch the last two episodes, if only so I can safely use tumblr again.

And also, I know this saving thing doesn’t actually make more of a show I love exist. In a way, I like the idea that there’s something more there for me to go back to, but like, in a way I’m depriving myself of part of the story. I know I should just watch the last episodes of things, but it’s so hard to let things go... I’m a hoarder in so many ways, including of unwatched final episodes, I suppose. But yeah, I’ll have to watch Gotham so I can go back to looking at tumblr other than in my old drafts and likes, I suppose.

Well, and I also know that I’ll enjoy a thing best if I consume it while it’s still in an active obsession cycle. Although, my obsession cycle with Gotham has been semi-dormant for a while since I ran out of binging to do, so I’m not the closest to it I’ve ever been, but it’s still giving me feels, so I should watch it.

This has been: I talk myself into watching the end of Gotham some time in the near future. We’ll see if I listen.

But anyways, if you see me on tumblr looking at spoilers tomorrow remind me to stop!! Haha. I have a huge backlog of drafts to process anywho. I should be working through those.

And also wish me broken limbs! Almost, Maine opens tomorrow!!

And, happy end of Gotham, to those witnessing it tomorrow. I hope it’s a good one...

Oswald and Edward; married in the time jump.

Stay with me. Oswald and Edward are seen working together in the time jump. If Gotham is going to suggest that they have been operating as criminals, doing illegal stuff together for years, wouldn't it make sense that the two of them would have exploited the heck out of Marital Privilege? The law that protects the confidential communications between spouses during their marriage from being used as a testimonial in a court case? Meaning that one can never be forced to rat out the other? What a dramatic reveal that would be. 

___________________________________________________________

Imagine it. After lying low for months, Oswald Cobblepot resurfaces and puts a grand scheme in motion. The GCPD knows its Oswald, so they grab The Riddler to question him because he likely knows all about said plan.

Riddler is in the cold interrogation room, all pristine in his green suit, bowler hat and leather gloves. Completely relaxed and in his element. Jim slams some files on the table and goes through how they know Edward knows what Oswald is up to.

All the while Riddler has this shit eating grin as he loosens his gloves, one finger at a time, as he listens to what Jim is saying.

“While I would love to help you out, Jim…” Riddler begins as he places his arm upright on the table, so his hand is almost eve level with Jim. A bit unnecessary but it allows him to be as dramatic as possible as he removes his left glove with a flourish to reveal a gold ring on his ring finger. “I’m afraid you can’t legally force me to testify against my… Husband.”

___________________________________________________________

“I don’t suppose you know anything about The Riddlers most recent escape from Arkham…?” a tired Jim deadpans to Oswald in the middle of a high-end restaurant, where the Riddler is blatantly seated across from Oswald. Martini in hand, smugly leading back in his chair, still in his stripped Arkham robes just to rub it in.

“I’m afraid I legally can’t say Jim” Oswald replies with mock sincerity.

L. V., idk how to let you go

L. V., i found this poem on the back of your hand

L. V., i found this poem backlit by moonlight

L. V., sometimes we don’t need to listen to the reader or the critics or the voices in our head

[i found this poem in my drafts, where it should have remained (pt. 8)]

L. V., i found this poem staring back at me from across a busy road

L. V., writing in the dark (pt. 6: because i don't know what to do with all this light)

L. V., He’s not the right person if you have to lie to him like this, your friends tell you. But I'm not lying. But he's not the right person. But I want him to be the right person. He has to be the right person. I’m going to make him the right person. I’m tired. He’s not the right person. But why does he smile like that.

[i found this poem in my drafts, where it should have remained (pt. 5)]

L. V., writing in the dark

L. V., i found this poem left forgotten by a stranger at the local café