Poogona [he/him]

DM ME FOR BUG TALES

  • 10 Posts
  • 595 Comments
Joined 3 years ago
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Cake day: October 12th, 2021

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  • Moods like this always tell me I need escape

    Not like escape from my problems (though that would of course be nice), but escape from me. That stagnant routine becomes a welcome backbone to my day-to-day when I’m really ensconced in something, be it a piece of media or a creative project of my own. Even just a couple hours of being so mentally involved in something that my awareness of myself melts away is deeply restorative. Maybe your depression doesn’t stem from boredom like mine did (I think) but if it does, a little time in the flow state usually does the trick

    Edit: this is very therapist-tone and I don’t like it, so I want to also say something chummy and shitposty like “keep existing to enjoy the days Kissinger can’t”






  • Hobbies might have some kind of internal “source” but they also need to be nurtured. You can’t love what you don’t know, you know? I have a bunch of weird interests now and each of them began with not much more than a sort of mental double-take that served as a starting point. Like the question “what is squid ink made out of anyway?” can be the start of an interest in marine biology.

    Depression makes it very hard to catch these little moments since it smothers that little mote of curiosity and pleasure that can be the start of a passion.









  • Capitalism really do be making it hard to be on the right frequency doesn’t it

    It always feels like this sort of quandary is utterly defined by its existence in a world order that lets people who don’t perfectly fit their groove starve. Like I can’t even picture what the ideal substance relationship would be without capitalism to define why I would take them. I’m picturing someone with ADHD who, without anything to directly coerce them into doing labor, might just have ADHD and live in a way that is comfortable for them, bouncing between tasks and finding their own groove.

    This is not at all to say these drugs are dubious, just that whenever I consider this question I wind up feeling especially asphyxiated by the current status quo.

    (If I’m completely off the mark someone tell me, this topic is something I used to grapple with a lot before I personally decided against going on antidepressants in high school, and I sometimes wonder if I made a mistake)


  • Neither the past or the future is real. What’s real is the here and now, because it hasn’t been filtered into the minor synaptic structural changes that will reconstitute a silhouette of the now, later, if you happen to recall the Now.

    The Now is now gone, goodbye. Welcome to the new now!

    And here you are reading this post. This post is real, because it’s pressed against your sensory profile, where reality lives. That’s right, my post is the whole of reality right now until you move on to the next one. I hope you had a nice visit.