Thoughts too organized, life too organized, I’m too organized, need to let things out without fences, borders, or requirements, without proper punctuation and three days of finding the words I want. Just let it out, who gives a fuck. Don’t proofread too much, go ahead and even leave in the watermark stamp in the photo you use to start these things, who really cares? You’re going to die one day, we all are, who really cares so much about what we care about in life, this hyperreality artificial intelligence construct I’m convinced that life is? I mean have you seen the crude shit we–monkeys spliced with the DNA of some type of alien visitor billions of years ago, experiments, really, just alien scientific experiments, pets probably–have come up with already with AI, these Chat GPT 5.0 searches, the ability to create realistic memes and deepfakes and stories with just a few inputs? Clearly we’re living in an advanced AI program, I’m convinced of it, and watching the new season of Black Mirror, episode two in particular, has me even more convinced of it. I love Black Mirror, it totally shows where we’re headed, but not every episode is good, I didn’t particularly enjoy episode three last night, but episode two was really good with that bullying theme and the psycho main character and changing reality, I love shit like that. Anyway, my point is I probably shouldn’t care as much as I do about some of the things I care about, like punctuation, typos, and watermarks on photos I use here, but I’m working on that. Perpetually working on myself, Jesus Christ, so many other people just go through life not giving a shit about self-improvement, just doing what they do and repeating the same mistakes without caring, maybe ignorance is bliss? Maybe they’re right and I’m wrong. Maybe there is no right? Maybe I’m just this way because I think it’ll improve my AI experience, and my childhood programmed me to always strive and be better and do better and aim for the best I can be. I am the sperm that made it to the egg after all, we all are, so I don’t know how else to be, and I don’t think I could be that apathetic about my status if I tried. This is how I was programmed and programmed myself, so I actually like it, I’m comfortable with it, but it really is a wonder that so many people aren’t this way and just walk around like NPCs, non-player characters. Speaking of apathy, I think apathy is the truest sign that you’re finally over someone, genuine apathy, not the fake kind you tell yourself for a year while you’re muddling through emotions, but real apathy, the kind where you don’t care any more because so much time has passed and you finally see the person for what they actually were, not what you imagined they were, for what they really felt about you, not what you hoped they felt about you or wanted them to feel about you; you finally see the disconnect and discordance between those things, how you just had blinders on the entire time and created your own internal AI sub-program for yourself, a sub-program that evaporated with time and experience, so now your anger glass is empty, and it’s that emptiness that you were looking for, waiting for, trying to get to this entire time, and you know it’s finally here too because you’re even starting to feel a little happy for them, that they’re happy and they found their bliss and their person and are living the life they want, so you can be happy for them just a little bit and maybe it’ll grow and maybe it won’t, and no, you still want them out of your life and never want to see or hear from them again, not because of anger–okay fine, maybe there’s still a little drop or two at the bottom of the glass but the anger glass is still 99% empty and positivity and silver linings and get off my ass because it took a while to get here–but mainly because let’s not push things and open the door to any twin flame delulus that may occasionally tap on my bedroom wall at two in the morning, no let’s keep that door closed forever and let us proceed on our respective journeys and never the twain shall meet again. I don’t know yet what something and someone else are waiting out there for me, if anything, but lately, I feel more self-aware and like I’m constantly changing reality tracks to better ones because I’m tapped into the right things, not the wrong things, however these can be defined, and they can’t really be defined because–and God I hate the new age hackery of this shit and the way it sounds but I swear it’s working–living a life of positivity, gratitude, and a mentality of abundance instead of lack is working for me. I have what I need and I’m creating what I need every single day. I’m not defined by friends or family or the relationship I’m in, not in, I’m defining myself every single day, striving for the good, striving for my goals, trying to self-regulate when things go sideways, open to everyone and everything, and living a life of honesty and authenticity. Why did it take me 56, almost 57 years to get to a place where I know, like, and accept myself the way I am, where I’m finally comfortable in my own shoes, where I can pursue what I want without needing to have it? It shouldn’t have taken this long. We should all come with manuals when we’re born so we can navigate this AI program in the most optimal way possible, but we don’t, and on the other hand, that’s for a reason because the purpose of this AI program isn’t to win but to learn and grow and experience. We’re all going to die. These bodies don’t last forever. They get worn out eventually and something whacks them good with finality at some point, at a number we don’t know, it could be a low number or a high number, we all hope for a high number but be careful what you ask for because who the fuck wants to hit a high number while living with dementia for almost a decade like my father did, who wants to do that? My mother is effectively living in a prison now, not mobile, not traveling anywhere any more, dependent on other people to take her everywhere and real bitter about it, always complaining, always talking about herself and her physical problems and complaining we don’t call her enough or go there enough, and I’m just like fuck man, fuck, who wants to talk to someone who’s always complaining and always so motherfucking negative about literally everything, who can’t go a single sentence without sliding into a political argument, and who the fuck makes politics their entire identity at the age of 79? Jesus Christ, find a hobby, find something else to do besides watching Fox News and doomscrolling on your phone all day. If this ever happens to me, just fucking give me a pill and send me on my way. I get it, getting old sucks, losing capacity sucks, losing mobility sucks, and I understand I don’t fully get how much it sucks because I’m not there yet, but I also saw my father handle it with a lot more acceptance and grace–I only saw him break down once–but I wasn’t with him all the time, she was, so maybe I missed a lot, but I honestly never heard the guy complain. Of course, he lost the ability to speak, so maybe that was the reason–I’m laughing as I type this because we HAVE to see the humor in everything, especially dark humor, or life just isn’t worth living–but even when I visited him, he didn’t act or sound like my mother does. She still has independence to some degree where he was locked in a fucking prison, an assisted living facility for dementia patients for almost two years. She has a house, he had a bedroom in a run down hotel he couldn’t leave. I don’t know, man. I’m trying to be understanding of her pain but I don’t ever want to sound or act like that when I get to where she is. There has to be a better way, a way to mitigate physical decline by staying in shape as much as possible, then accepting your losses while making the most of what you have and where you are, still doing things, still finding joy in life without becoming a black cloud to everyone around you. She sucks the air out of every conversation and then wonders why we don’t call so much. It’s not pleasant or enjoyable, that’s why. I know I’ll read this post when she’s dead and beat the hell out of myself, but she makes nothing easy right now. She creates a lot of these conditions herself. Every relationship takes two people to make it work. It takes a commitment from both people to make it successful. It’s like she feels she put her time in when we were kids and now it’s time for us to pay the bill. Well I put my time in when I was a kid too Mom, I really did, and my bank account is empty right now, no funds available, deposit required. Resentment comes too quickly, despite all this work I’m doing on myself because you’re the greatest trigger I’ve ever known, so things would go a lot better if you stop acting like such an asshole without trying. Am I a bad son now? Maybe I am. Maybe I am. I’ve never felt this distant from her, but I have my reasons. She said some pretty nasty things to me on that last visit, and I’m out of empathy. I need to find it again. She’s almost 80, has a growing aneurism near her heart and could literally be dead tomorrow. Objectively speaking, I’m probably the asshole in this situation but Jesus Christ, I haven’t reached that level of Buddhist detachment yet to manage these conversations, your monologues actually because they’re not dialogues, without reacting. This shit is not easy, she does not make it easy. I will be an orphan soon enough, can 56 year-old men be orphans? and then I’ll feel bad because that’s how this AI program works. Eventually I’ll view my mother the same way I view Ex., as a person who was one of my greatest teachers in this AI program, because I failed so much with them and then learned from my failures. Fine, I’ll call her this week and see if it goes better than last time. Is there anyone better at guilt trips than an Italian mother? I think not. I think sometimes that my attachment style may have shifted, or may be shifting from anxious to avoidant. These things can happen. If I’m being totally honest with myself, I just am not interested in answering to anyone or owing obligations, emotional or otherwise, to anyone right now. I crossed paths with this person on Hinge a few weeks ago–holy shit, I’ve never seen a more anxious attacher in my life. Without even trying, and after only a few days of texting and talking on the phone we were getting into these types of conflicts that I don’t have with people until I’ve been dating them for years. It was fucking insane! We hadn’t even met once yet, and she was already complaining that I hadn’t set a time to meet yet and that I needed to “make time” and “make an effort” to get to where she lived because things can dissipate quickly on these apps and people ghost and blah, blah, blah. The delay was caused by my going to Austin, and I have a custody schedule with alternating weekends I stick to and don’t move around for dates that can be put off for a few days, especially with people I haven’t met yet. I forget where she lived — it was just outside NYC in NJ, easily reachable by train, but a PITA to drive to from here. Anyway, this person was the most anxious attacher I think I’ve seen in my life, clearly she’d gone through some things, even her profile was defensive and in your face, but she was attractive, and we make exceptions for such things and put our toe in the water until a piranha bites it off and we only have nine toes left, that’s what happened here. Biggest issue was almost every conversation was this dissertation on male-female dynamics and how we need a world of matriarchy instead of patriarchy and I should look into what that means and not be defensive about it and Jesus F’ng Christ I’m as liberal as they come and pro-woman and want more women in power, but if you’re going to stick it up my ass in every conversation about how bad men are and how victimized women are and how the world is unfair, as if I owe you something before I’ve even met you once, I’m getting the fuck out of that situation, no matter how good you look or how much I like a little crazy in my women. It was insane. She was making demands like we’d been dating for three years or something, and I did this mental fast forward like If this is what this demanding nutter is like now, what’s it going to look like in six months, a year, or five years? Fuuuuuck this. After a phone conversation where she got upset and yelled at me to the point of virtual hyperventilation because she took something I said and filtered it through a lens that was caked with mud for reasons that had nothing to do with me, I bowed out and exited the situation as politely and respectfully as possible. This didn’t stop her from telling me I “crushed” her spirit afterwards. Lmfao. That’s a you problem, ma’am. I’ve been on these apps for awhile, I know unstable and emotionally imbalanced when I see it, and in this particular case, it was more than obvious. I can thank therapy again and boundaries and values I’m sticking to because two years ago, I might have still tried to meet this person. Boundaries are so fucking important, I’m finding. You don’t lose anything by setting them, they give such clarity and purpose to interactions and they always bring you to what you need and deserve because when they’re tested, it’s like the universe asking you if you want to regress or move forward to something better and more aligned with you in this AI program. They’re not set in stone–I gave this person three chances before I finally decided to bail, but when it became clear this person would never serve me in a positive way (I don’t mean literally here, I mean emotionally, etc.), I felt good about leaving the situation. No more people pleasing for me. Align with me, or I’ll move on. And so where am I now? What do I want? I’m not entirely sure. I’ve been thinking about this lately and let’s say I could have everything I want in the way that I want right now, what would that look like? What if I could be totally selfish and not PC and just have what I want? I think I’d want a solid emotional connection with someone who understands and accepts the different pulls on my time, maybe has similar pulls on her time herself, someone to travel and do things with, someone flexible and adaptable with all of this, great sex, frequent sex, hot sex, living in different places but not too far from each other, with minimal imposition of obligations on each other beyond emotional commitment where we’re sounding boards for each other and have each other’s backs. I don’t want to have to work hard to please someone else right now. I don’t want that weight, I just don’t. I also don’t want someone to have to work too hard to please me. I’m not looking for a relationship, just a magnetic connection where I want more, where I want to see that person more and more, someone who wakes me up and I feel that pull again, someone who maybe makes me start thinking about wanting a relationship in spite of myself. Failing that, I’m happy with people’s company, meeting new people and connecting that way, call it serial dating if you want, but I’ve pulled back on it a lot and am far more selective now, so I don’t think I’m a serial dater. I do have a goal in mind. I haven’t had a date in a month, but I do have one tonight with someone from France who’s visiting family in a town that’s right next to mine, both of which seem like bizarre coincidences. She said she’s trying to move here and be a teacher–I have no idea why one would leave France to come here, but I guess I’ll find out. Her English isn’t great, so I think we’ll both be using Google Translate a lot. I have no expectations, we haven’t even talked on the phone once, her profile on Tinder was barebones and even her photos weren’t as conclusive as I’d like. But fuck it. I love France, and it’s just dinner. She’ll be gone in a few days. I’m just being open to new possibilities and seeing where they lead. I’m trying to weed plastic out of my life as much as possible. I’m looking for a new coffee maker — god knows how much plastic I’m ingesting with that old one I’ve for years. That can’t be good. They’re finding microplastics and anti-depressants in fish. That can’t be good either. It’s so easy to focus on the negative in life, bad news, death, don’t get me started on Gaza again, but if it’s all part of the AI program, none of it’s real, right? It’s just part of the program and all that matters is our reaction to all of it, which is the purpose of the program. How much do I need to retire, how much is enough? Is $4 million too much? Do I really need that much? That’s an insane number, a seemingly unachievable number, like trying to get into Harvard, a reach school for retirement. $3 million? Also seems like a lot, especially at 56, especially with Mango Mussolini destroying our economy and my 401(k), though I did buy the dip twice. $3 million is like a really good second tier school but also hard to get into, like an Amherst and Williams, doable if you work really hard, but a bit of a crapshoot. How much do old people need to live? How much will I need in Italy? Hopefully not that much. Lately I’ve been thinking of Thailand as a backup if Italy becomes unworkable. No, I’ve never been there, but it’s cheap, beautiful, and the Thai women who randomly contact me on Tinder seem really nice. Food for thought.
