We've been getting a lot of dust storms lately. I can't say I mind them compared to the typical heat advisory but I'll be damned if they don't make the vibes a little antsy. That's how my girlfriend and I felt today, antsy. Though I started feeling irritable towards the end I can't say I lost my cool despite misreading a turn at an intersection. Either way, I'm here and I'm grateful despite the state of things.

That irritability came from money troubles, news foreboding about another great depression and debt slavery. My dad once told me it's never as good as it seems, it's never as bad as it seems. He's a big fan of war movies and Black Hawk Down is no exception. Speaking of dads, I watched that movie Cell based on the Stephen King book, a dad looks for his son after a strange phone signal turns people into hive-minded psychopaths. It came out nine years ago and received poor reviews so I'll just say it looks like a downer ending. Didn't help the mood today and we're both feeling spent. Not only did I watch Cell but I've been playing a lot of Fallout: New Vegas, another IP that feels bleak.

Hope no longer feels like a random Facebook word anymore but a survival necessity. By all means, don't have any illusions about current events so long as you don't dare go hollow. I want to invoke a tidbit from an entry from earlier into the year—already half over, isn't it?

When you see good as the baseline, every thing that goes wrong feels like a tragedy. But by recognizing bad as the baseline, everything that goes right is a precious gift.

I like gifts so I'm gonna roll with that. Now that we've brought that state of mind back into the picture the problem of keeping hope alive seems more clear, no? Another thing that seems clear is reclaiming my power but not spreading myself too thin again, better not have a repeat of late '24. Evie helped me figure that one out. Three goals I want to stick to, start a career, get better at art, create a blog for another persona to use. At least this way I'm not all over the place even though my fear of money troubles linger. Of course I'm not expecting to go full on Of Mice and Men but I worry about not being able to afford the things I'm used to. Coffee, steam sales and the like. If I get hungry I want to know that I can buy something to eat.

To keep this entry from going all over the place I'll say that I'm content looking for more work whilst pursuing my art. The time's gonna pass anyway so I may as well be intentional about how I fill it. To wrap up here I'll note that I found a good place out in the desert. My graboid rock. Not a lot of resistance getting there and once I do the spot is comfortable. I took a nap up there last week before getting to work on another drawing, there's enough surface area and not too much of an incline, thankfully. It feels pertinent to ask Evie what she thinks and what she's really telling me is that getting back on Indeed will put my mind at rest for a while. The day's about over and I can't complain.

The lower you go on Maslow's hierarchy of needs the more you interact with the reptile brain. Last night I talked a little bit about basic needs modern people should strive for (house, food, etc.) but far below that is when you enter hypothalamus and basal ganglia territory, the type of shit so primordial that it can override a person's sense of reason if they're pushed to it. I'm talking about needs like sleep, food, sex, personal space, and I'm not being unreasonable when I say that interfering with any of these is a surefire way of pushing someone into psychopathy.

I am 3 hours awake before my alarm is set to go off and it has to do with this fucking cat relentlessly meowing because it wants food in a bowl that has food. As much as I want to be a more empathetic, reasonable person this year, this is the kind of bullshit that makes me want to break something. If your sleep is consistently fucked with for the stupidest reason, you are not going to make decisions you otherwise would. I cannot be bothered to think rationally right now.

Everything is so grating to me this morning that this entry could very easily turn towards psycho-posting. DO NOT FUCK WITH PEOPLE'S SLEEP.

Outta my head. I still have the power. Evelyn would not ponder the shit that I am right now. But like I said, everyone's got a hierarchy of needs and if you interfere with anything closer to the bottom you're asking for trouble. It's a cat, it's a hamster, these creatures aren't conspiring against me, they have their own needs they're trying to fulfill even if it interferes with a diurnal animal like myself. That's why parents are so fucking rude, they did not get an undisturbed hour of rest, and unlike a cat you cannot simply get rid of a human baby. So how do we salvage the morning?

I am due that protein breakfast. The John Cena bar and muscle milk, 40 grams with the strawberry flavor should god allow it. I am watching Land of the Dead as I write this because I have no patience for YouTube's ads right now. There has to be some lapse in judgement, a fault in the mind, if entrepreneurs and companies and businesses think that persistent advertisement isn't going to make someone hate their product. It could be the fucking miracle drug that cures dementia, cancer, and a runny nose all in one but if it's in a 40 second unskippable ad then I will pray that whatever factory making it is lost to a devastating chemical fire and then their shareholders pull out.

This is what running on barely four hours does to a person, I cannot even try again because anything that sounds remotely similar to a cat's meow wakes me up. I do not like that. They call it cats training their owners but I resent that idea unfathomably. This little four-legged serial killer manipulating a human's parental instincts to their benefit? No, that is a too much for me to process this early morning.

I still have the power, back on track. Fuck, I'm seeing firsthand how closely sleep deprivation is tied to anxiety. Guns. I like guns, I shot a battery because it was easier than taking it to the proper facility, blew up like an m80 once I finally landed a shot. Either I'm that bad or glock sights are ass. Guns and ground beef, I like making stuff with ground beef especially pasta. Got some 90% lean defrosting in the fridge as we speak, gonna add some of that bowtie stuff once I pick up more cheese. Do I got tomato sauce? There better be a jar of prego somewhere in this house. Food and sleep, do not take that away from a human.

That's why Skynet's destined to lose, and the covenant, and the reapers. If you take sleep, food, or sex away from a human then we will make the Siege of Stalingrad look like Stardew Valley with the levels of cruelty we will inflict on anything that triggers our reptile brains.

I don't like Asia Argento but she looks so fine in Land of the Dead, that fishnet and mini-skirt aesthetic was fundamental to designing Lexine's character down to the haircut. I should try drawing Lex again. Her and Evie who would also take to writing as a way to salvage this. Evie—like me—would also struggle with controlling negative emotions as a result of being on the spectrum. It doesn't help either that I never had someone to model that type of emotional restraint after. But if I had to watch a video of myself throwing something before screaming at a cat I would gravely regret my lack of control. And that's why she's there.

Early mornings are so beautiful, serene in an almost alien way out here in the desert and that's what I'm gonna takeaway from being woken up so early. The east side of town gets this soft blue that meets with indigo every summer. And the sun is absolutely golden when it climbs over those mountains. I might even leave the house an hour early just to watch it rise, up on my graboid rock, bottle of muscle milk in hand.

—Errant out

Truth be told I don't think I'll ever be able to sleep without writing at least one thing. I'm grateful to call today and yesterday productive yet I'll never evade my absurd printer problems—the fucking thing never wants to cooperate when I need it to! I was on top of a boulder today, a huge 40 ton mound of igneous I called my graboid rock due the peak's elevation from the ground. It was, of course, the perfect place to do some drawing while the light was still good and winds cooperative, and I finished my first sex scene complete with background. There's something to learn from every finished piece, a little bit of trial and error, reflection, and with enough consistency I'll get to where I want to be, and my graboid rock is the best place to keep working.

Tomorrow's another early start to the day, more time to hang out in the desert if I equip myself properly. I think I'll roll with a simple breakfast of MET-Rx and Muscle Milk from the adjacent gas station—modest, efficient, affordable. There's something about the desert that invites the outlaw spirit, opens a channel to authenticity and I think that's where I'll produce some of my best work.

It's certainly never not on the table but as of today there's more work to do, less of it creatively challenging and more necessary to facilitate change. I am, of course, talking about starting a career and that begins with more education. One thing I never understood growing up was how people could get so jazzed about chasing their dream job, paying to study so they can get paid to practice what they studied. What makes more sense is what people really want is to never be destitute. A home, health insurance, food security, the building blocks of life. None of it comes easy and we all make sacrifices to afford stability, and what I used to be so avoidant towards is now a goal that's been a long time coming. I mean, what else am I going to do?

These are moments where Evie takes the stage as I let her shoulder all my problems. Recognizing my avoidant personality is the first step towards overcoming the challenge but it's not the whole enchilada. There's still the issue of working myself into a groove I've become too comfortable residing in and any threats of altering that routine are met with either avoidance or skepticism. No, the only way forward is to change and to change means to struggle. It will all be necessary and faith in the process is paramount.

I think there's validity to viewing oneself in the third person and that's just what Miss Evelyn Veronica facilitates—self-reflection...

Before Joe Rogan became a mouth piece for the establishment he used to give good advice. One thing he said stuck out to me: imagine your life as movie. Whatever you can to get out of your own head you should do it, maybe it's not so much the myth of Narcissus but from my experience we come to believe in our own unreliable narrations. That's the power of viewing yourself in the third person, that you're more than just your singular perspective but have always been a part of a larger whole—the scene itself. Otherwise it's just fermentation. Not fermentation like beer, nothing good, more like the anaerobic digestion in septic tanks.

Sometimes the kindest thing we can do for ourselves is to be in the moment. That can't be more pertinent in an age of distraction.

I like to end things on a good note so I will say that I look forward to that protein-based breakfast tomorrow even if it's not the nutritional ideal. Furthermore, I want to believe that stability offers a different kind of freedom. Less of the shiftless NEET lifestyle and more of an upgrade as it were. A new stage in life where the responsibilities are greater but so are the privileges we reap. In a few year's time I'll be able to hop in my truck and go anywhere I please, I could drive as far as Alaska if I so choose or head east and experience a hurricane for the first time. It's understood that neuro-divergents (such as those with ADHD and autism) tend to be late bloomers.

At least on my side of the spectrum that's how it feels...

That's not to say it's impossible, though. I don't want to buy any stock in a fixed mindset. But the improvement of having realistic, tangible goals is now in front of me and some people start earlier, others much later. It's true what they mean when they say that comparison is the thief of joy.

Tomorrow is another day to work on it and I'm grateful I have the means to do so. I enjoyed today's drawing and think I'll produce more just like it. Until then, sleep well and dream of large women.

—Errant out

_Because I got fed up with all the ads on YouTube, I started watching Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. With nothing substantial on my schedule, I decided the best use of the day was to organize everything so I can prepare for the week and having a clean room makes all the difference. It could be my Gen Z brain but I prefer to have some kind of noise going on in the background and Hunter S. Thompson always gets me in the mood for writing. Right now it's better to reset because I'm at a point now where I have to get serious about my setting up a future—jobs, education, all that noise. When my dad told me to start putting something into motion he was, of course, talking about a career. I don't believe in it... Stability feels like an illusion regardless of who's president so total dedication to a job looks like a tremendous waste of energy.

But stepping into the headspace for goal-setting takes a parking spot that could be filled by anxiety or another. I'll never get over what he said about me living in a world of abstraction even though there's truth to it. I think he just wants me to be specific about the path ahead, even more so than accepting that I'll just go back to school. Getting registered for a degree in water utilities helped put his mind to rest, now it's just a matter of preparing for the Fall Semester to give myself the best odds at achievement.

Truth be told, my parents don't really care what I do so long as I meet a small checklist of requirements: a home, food, health insurance, a vehicle that runs, and money to save for a tragedy. But most of what that all comes down to is where you live, what you do, and who you know, and it's hard to care about any of that shit when you're starting to see your end of the social contract getting ripped to shreds. Be that as it may, I don't know what else I'm gonna do. I'm not able to profit off my work just yet so the only way forward is to be realistic. Another thing moving forward is that all fear should be irrelevant. All it's done is to keep me in my own head playing video games again to "unwind". No, I'm due for a change.

_So what about my art? I have to get serious about that, too. Just like education, fear had kept me from starting and it was easier to stay abstract about those goals. Being realistic doesn't mean I have to give up on anything and anyone who says otherwise can go soak their head. I like shooting guns and drinking craft beer and drawing naked women. Video games are fun but I already got my fill—about 15 years worth. I like Van Halen and cheeseburgers and going for drives with my girlfriend. And there's more of that if I have the funds to do so. I've always wanted to write a book in a tavern, I just need more money, Arthur.

_As I keep telling myself the way out of a tunnel is forward. Not sure how to tie this entry off so I'll end on the three basic things every story needs. You need plot, a setting, and characters. More to follow.

—Errant out

If the day did not require an AK then it is good

It's important to remind myself of what I'm grateful of. I did some drawing, met with a colleague (we talked shop and office politics), got iced coffee with the GF (I'm fuckin' wired, bruh), and ate some tacos al pastor. My county has this brewery that makes a pecan beer, nice mouthfeel with a creamy after taste, almost as good as that pumpkin ale I had one October. But a nice brew helps a well-seasoned meal.

Anyway, not dead, I have a couple of finished drawings in reserve that I'll publish once my printer's back online, one of them is a drawing of Sakura that honestly surprised me because I didn't think I could figure out perspective that quickly. Tried drawing April earlier this evening and had less success. My theory: I have too many rigid ideas about depicting what April should look like and doing so violates a few art fundamentals. That's why she's been so hard to recreate five years later, I'm chasing an old idea. But guess what, April refuses to be pigeonholed.

I made that gripe clear to my girlfriend and she expressed that the best part of creating is having fun with it. Not saying it's all cold beer and hot food but what she told me felt profound. We create characters for a reason, whatever seeded that essence of who they are is distinct and only we have the ability to put that vision to the page. That is our power as creatives.

So what's the takeaway? Let's invoke the washoe baskets again so I can remind myself that holding tightly onto ideas is how they stay bricked up. April, of all my characters, is one who I have the most jealous control over. It was never that intending to create for her lead to some mental block, it was always that I was pedantic about her image—never again.

Got another piece I'm working on. Now that I think about it I never really tried a sex scene before, at least not in drawing. My plan is to upload the other two finished works by tomorrow and make some time to work on my answer to

Painting of Two Nudes Kissing. But before I get to that, the Farmer's Market, GF and I got a friend who runs a food truck.

—Errant Out

I woke up thinking about how we reclaim our own power and what that means for emotional instability. If I had to visualize it I'd say it's more like a sailboat with no anchor nor helm. Thankfully it's a sublime morning and I have the instinct to go touch grass, there are things I want to do today without thinking of them too much.

Last week my girlfriend told me something about art I had heard once but never really considered. She spoke on the difference between the two schools of thought as to how art is perceived. On one hand art is valued more for the skill of the artist, how disciplined they were in creating a piece using the studied fundamentals. Then there's viewing art as an expression of self, skill is only relevant in how it pertains to what the artist is trying to portray. Skill versus creativity—I would hope to achieve both.

I had a dream last night about these two dudes who drive around in a giant boring machine, just these two boomers digging through the earth in a giant mechanical worm. Apparently they were attached to a secret department of the US military that specialized in the study and destruction of monsters and other anomalous beings. One day these two burst through the parking lot of IHOP looking to get some pancakes. One was suave and the other insecure. Suave was cocky, a bit arrogant in the way he spoke to the other patrons when he sat down, and Insecure was just there to learn the ropes. When asked why he was so arrogant, Suave replied leaning back in his chair, "Cause I hunt giant monsters, asshole".

I would love to have that confidence but never the ego to wield it like that...

Today is a good day to get out of the house. Maybe not for IHOP, $13 for an omelette the size of a tea saucer last time I checked. But the weather's fair, sky's clear, and there's a dormant volcano in my window. The desert really is a cool place during the right time of day. Lately we've been getting brownouts like it's Afghanistan; I half-expected to see a squad of marines on the way to work.

But what I was saying about reclaiming our power, it starts with being mindful. Emotions whether they be positive or negative can be misleading once they delve into extremes. From my experience both offer a false ideal when we chase after them, negativity promises a soft destruction that's both inward and outward, but positivity can be an opiate of sorts. Not to mention that either one can lead to maladaptive daydreaming. It's easy to say it's all about balance but let me be clear about that. It's more than just balance but moderating the self, reclaiming your own power means being responsible for your own mind, and especially not being lead by whatever social media algorithm dictates.

I'm gonna go shower, get my head screwed on, then see if I really want to meet that guy today. Maybe coffee would suffice instead of some fancy lunch but let's play by ear. There's a story I'd like to capture in writing.

—Errant out

_Can't sleep, waiting on a load of laundry to finish anyway. I figure it's best to keep writing until morale improves, like the movie says, "A writer writes. Always". Looking back on the month of April I have to confront my personal definition of connection, it's a word I typically use in these entries and before starting I should get real about what that means. Connection—how I see it—is another one of those basic human needs that's just a tick higher than clean water and physical protection. They call it a loneliness epidemic for a reason and before I get to using words so flippantly it's best to call it what it is. Per the usual deal I have the desire but not the ability, in this case that being the ability to socialize, connect.

The problem hits on a spiritual level, too. There's that sense of being cast out, rejected, being denied access to the party before leaving the house. And here's where the mask comes on.

_All in all I'd chalk the day up to boredom. A quick nature walk helped but my mind was too occupied to enjoy it. I feel like it shouldn't be this way, though, like there should still be some gas left in the tank following some course corrections. Last month I registered for school again and I'll be attending in the fall—got tired of unskilled labor. Water Technology was logically the safest bet for a career and my advisor told me it's a fast ticket to the West Coast. Plus the job really gives me Fallout 3 vibes which is appreciated.

Nevertheless I'm stuck in the same place socially and artistically. This stagnation is becoming nauseous. My mom says that the town I'm in ain't the place for me. Environment plays a part but if I can't be happy with myself then locale is only a small factor. After a quick self-analysis I'd have to draw the problem towards an internal lack of stability, that failure to stay on task when it comes to pursuing a goal. It's why Rottweilers made poor police dogs, easily distracted. With that on the table all I can say is that it tracks. One objective's quickly traded for another at the drop of a hat. My solution: start low difficulty.

Looking back at the constants in my life I am really good about using video games as a means of avoidance. I don't like it but that habit has several years—if not, a decade—of internal wiring. Start low-speed, low-intensity, fucking game journalist difficulty, anything to get the ball rolling.

My dad was getting on my case about that, about not having set anything in motion since leaving my waste management job. I can see what he was getting at even if he was being a dick about it. I thought getting readmitted to school was enough but hadn't set my sights on a career path until recently. But what about putting plans into motion artistically and socially? The best part about dumping your purse on the table is that the answer falls out right in front of you—Chat GPT not required. Don't think, just do.

I think I said that already...

_Instinct is a good guide. That ability we have for critical thinking and logical reasoning worked well to get us out of the caves but it's a real ass-kicker when it becomes an obstacle. Today I had the problem of losing sight of what drives me. Instability came from a lack of vision in life which turned into that ennui I was telling you about. Everyone's got something that gets them out of bed in the morning and it can easily be misplaced in memory if we allow ourselves to think too much.

Just like the AI in Halo, we can literally think ourselves to death. So feed your mind, mind your feed. Keep a happy delusion so long as it gets you out of bed in the morning.

_What does this mean now? Well, I can only speak for what I want from tomorrow. I would like to meet with somebody, pick their head for a potential story idea—I won't say what. There's got to be a way to go with the flow while still being an active participant in the ride. Like kayaking down a river, that sounds like a good metaphor.

I remember a dream I had about April and Sakura. They were the only two aboard a spaceship called the Moth Blossom and they were both looking over a map of connecting star systems, weighing their options about which would be the best destination. Because they didn't have any faster-than-light travel to conveniently take them there. No, they had to skinny-dip into hyper-sleep for a full year before waking up outside the space equivalent to a truck stop. The two cleaned themselves off with Everclear of all things (95% abv) and sat down at a booth in a poorly lit bar to order chicken nuggets.

I think that's the direction I want to go in for now, until school starts again.

—Errant out

_Fucking cat woke me up: I don't know what his problem is but he's gotta a habit of waking me up at 4 or 6 in the morning to feed him again and if his bowl's full, he'll want me to watch him eat. Or it's full and he just stares at me like an asshole. He meows at his food expecting me to figure out whatever's wrong with it. What do you see that I don't you four-legged freeloader?

Needless to say, the state of my head has not improved, I'm somewhere between tired and hungover without having touched a drop all week. Dammit. Where does this leave us? If I did some reflecting on the spiritual musings from last night, I'd say that the past makes for a good starting point that we have to remind ourselves of. Sometimes we outgrow what makes us nostalgic, other times we adapt it to fit our new position in life.

_There's a serenity to the desert: I've been to the Mojave, the Chihuahuan, and Sonoran deserts and they're strangely peaceful at the right time of day. I think it's that ability to see the horizon, it lends to a spiritual farsightedness not afforded to forest and city dwellers. Of course, I can't make apologies for the heat-or the drought. But in those few hours of the early morning, and if there's a windchill, it makes living in the southwest worthwhile despite the lack of opportunity here.

I think I can do myself a favor when I stop trying to bottle those visceral emotions of hope and longing. They can't be assigned words because doing so takes out the magic if that's the word. Instead I'll use them as a guide. An exercise in letting go like I was talking about last night. That, I feel, can be captured in writing.

So while I'm still talking about spiritual awareness, it felt better for me to sit down somewhere to do some writing; the MVD can wait. I didn't intend for it to pan out this way but while I lacked the skills necessary to follow through on my big ideas, I needed a platform to get something out in the world. Could've assumed another identity, used another account, but for some reason I used this one. Shoulda, coulda, woulda but here we are. Now it's become a platform for my tell-all.

It'll do your spirit no favors to think back on a past decision with the intent to correct it, hoping to alter the direction of your momentum. No, let's play the ball as it lies.

_I don't like working: No one does but it's a requirement in this day and age. Still haven't found something to replace my old job at the transfer station so now I'm just coasting by on part-time, making what I can with my freed schedule until I'm ready to go back to school. There's something I resent wholeheartedly about the 40 hour work week, really you're working ten hours a day if you factor in the time you spend getting ready for work, commuting, and the break and lunch you have to spend at your job-at the transfer station we got 30 minutes for lunch. And what's it for? Every year it gets harder to live, prices only increase while wages stagnate, big-tech companies threaten more of our independence, dignity, and privacy and they'll weasel their way through any loop hole.

I remember why I wanted to live off-grid in the first place. I wanted to get away from the dullness of modernity if it meant securing a little peace of mind. Really I just wanted enough money to get out of the game, live a go-lucky life where I'm free to create what I want and not have to answer to any higher-ups. But therein lies the problem. No one is trying to fix the problem that warrants those impulses for escapism, we're all looking for an out. I suppose that's the weakness in American society, that disconnection so we look towards throwing others under the bus if it means we can't be bothered.

Then look at the bigger picture and it seems everything is built on dehumanizing one another. Highways, suburbs, office buildings. It's a spiritual drought. So where in this world do we find a way to revitalize our spirit? I like to think my work could one day embody the erotic and fetishistic-that was the initial intent. But that's only one room in the house because I also crave freedom. Those late night drives to hit up a gas station for snacks, Lethal Company with friends, cheeseburgers and Van Halen. How do we sustain ourselves that way in today's society? Not impossible, certainly, but more difficult as a result of socioeconomic institutions, the ones that declare the highest goal attainable is the pursuit of material wealth just for the sake of it. We're all in a race to see who can get out of it the fastest and the reward we might be promised is rest, freedom, or a little peace of mind. Funnily enough, the trick is that you can't win the race by running it. No, that's a fallacy.

The only way to win is to stop playing their game. I used to think that doing so meant some kind of ballistic action but we didn't need that. The answer lies in soft-power, starving the beast. Just like the High-Water Mark, our energy will simply prevail.

_So where does that leave us?: I've let go of the pursuit of any big material goals. Big houses, big boats, big bank accounts, it's not for me as nice as those things would be to have. All the pieces will have to go back in the box someday and I'd rather not spend a lot of time attached to objects.

No, art and quality time. That's good enough for me.

-Errant out

_Intro:

Head's spinning so a quick entry before bed. I got in touch with some people I haven't spoken to in a while, familiar voices and the like bringing me back to more...idealistic times? Yeah, back when the world was less convoluted and I didn't have to think as much. But judging the timeline between then and now gives me an opportunity to reflect on personal changes. Sometimes we have to remind ourselves of how we made our decisions in the first place and when you look at it, every little thing brought you to this point. As I like to tell myself, every bad idea was once good and knowing which is the other lies in experience.

_On old ideals:

If old ideals were that viable then personal change wouldn't have been necessary, right? I like to think so at least. There's still a little bit of that optimism, that desire to feel like a part of something. I remember what it was like, those years in the late 2010s, everything seemed possible back then. The days before insecurity, anxiety. Life made sense.

Vague platitudes, I know. And those few phrases mean many different things to many different people but we all must feel that way in some form or another. But what are the old ideals? I guess it's more of a sentiment really. We outgrow some things if they no longer serve us or we either adapt them. I just found the word-nostalgia, pure and simple. I think I've said it before but growing up means being more aware for better or worse. You look at things more analytically and less fantastically-at least in my case that's true.

The world right now feels like a spiritual dead end and in the same way you have to be more independent as an adult, the same is true of less material things like your spirituality. You don't have to buy a bunch of crystals and read into astrology just to be aware of your own spiritual state. That night with my girlfriend, eating cheeseburgers and listening to Van Halen over my truck's stereo-that did more for my soul than any amount of time I had spent in a church.

_On the spirit:

There is an immaterial way in which we have to sustain ourselves. Most people don't know how and so they follow trends like the ikea nesting instinct. The worst examples glue themselves to streaming services, relentlessly watching the news like their homegrown version of the two minutes hate. That's the type of spirit that becomes submissive to the potency of the reptile brain, politicians are masterful at orchestrating the baser instincts of voters. I know this because it's happened to me.

I can't define it with specific words and it would be futile to try. Everyone's different in whatever old ideals they lament losing whether it's a dream they had or some perception of the world that felt more hospitable. But there's ways of returning to that headspace, some ritual or another. Everyday I go to a coffee shop, sit with my laptop and make progress on a goal. That's what I've been doing to help myself.

But what I've come to learn is that you have to let go of that sense of control. Adulthood means being more in control of your own survival then we try to control the circumstances that fulfill us spiritually but that's a paradox. For hundreds, maybe even a thousand years, humans have known that the path to enlightenment starts with letting go and I see this as equally true when you admit that you are not your ego, just an observer of it. Simple, right?

_Where to go from here:

The feeling, the optimism, it was never lost. We just forget. That'll be something to meditate on, our original headspace that pushed us to make the decisions we did, follow these goals but now with more experience. I don't know if this is gonna reach anyone. Better to treat this as some kind of online diary, I'm tired anyway.

Tomorrow, I'm going to the MVD, getting an oil change, and seeing what kind of meal I can cook all the way out in the desert. Getting in touch with old friends brought me back to the headspace the modern world tried to purge, I can't even put it into words. But you know what it means for you, whatever gives you hope, inspiration, a bunch of pinterest words. Misery doesn't have to be the default.

-Errant out

_Intro:

After trying to buy a pack of Strongbow, I learned that I had been driving with an expired license for the better part of two weeks. Furthermore, still haven't paid my taxes because that shit's for nerds. And I have been putting off going to the doctor's for nearly three months. My point is, there's a lot of Kafka-esque BS that the modern world demands of people, all the waiting in lines, paperwork, and other institutions designed to waste your time. And if time is still a precious resource, I have to tell myself that I'll get around to those things eventually.

What more could I ask of in this life than sitting down at my favorite third place to do some writing? Another thing is that I've been reflecting on how the autism had made it difficult to form connections, more I less I had to just let relationships fall in to place magic conch-style because talking to people is just a wavelength I can't tune into. Maybe on a superficial level I can vibe with simple conversation, pick a topic of mutual interest, and let it roll from there. But for the communities and groups that have already had time to develop on their own and then approach them as an outsider looking in? No no nope, that don't work for me.

What I learned about animals is that status is determined by who has to leave their home group in search of another one. You know why female chimps hold lower status in the troop? It's because they're expected to leave what they grew up with to find another colony or whatever. Same thing with whales and elephants where males hold lower status-they have to leave and find another pod, family, so be it and keep a healthy gene pool.

_On Avoidance:

According to the science, Pathological Demand Avoidance is a characteristic of autistic people, a response to demands placed on us by others (especially authority figures) that are registered as a threat to our autonomy. Pay your taxes, renew your license, wait in an office for three hours so I can tell you about your shot records. I just wanna write for god's sake. This is especially true if it's a situation that disrupts our routines, risks sensory overload-boy, that one's familiar-and all in all it's a defense mechanism. We're trying to prevent an anxiety spike, not act like a dickhead for the sake of it; but I think refusing to pay taxes in this day and age feels more like a virtue. The beast can't trample us if we starve it of our dollars.

_What does that mean for skill-building?:

If we're talking about pathological avoidance, then yeah, I can see how that disrupts the routine. It feels safe to go with the flow, let the water stay clear even if it means staying mediocre. When PDA is factored in, skill-building and the like needs a little bit more willful effort on the part of autistic people. That's my educated guess, though. I don't have some CEP degree or whatever.

So! We've identified a key part of the problem and now the battle's already closer to victory. I always felt like there was some biological constraint hindering my goals and it turns out that there was. But now I have a name for it instead of some fixed-mindset, abstract feeling of inadequacy. Pathological Demand Avoidance, whether it's a demand from the self or external forces, I don't want my routine to be disrupted-and I've had a lot of time to build an unproductive routine for myself.

_Solutions:

Identifying the challenge makes it easier to overcome because now I can start internalizing solutions. Instead of misascribing the problem of artistic stagnation, I can be aware that it is in fact PDA holding me back. With this realization, I can apply the correct tools this time instead of just do it. Because what I've learned is that the process of learning a skill demands more than just showing up, it asks for discipline, consistency, and self-reflection, things even neuro-typicals struggle with.

After some quick research, a few solutions for PDA include but are not limited to:

[00] Recognize that PDA is a list of personality characteristics one deploys as a barrier against negative stimuli, particularly tasks or demands that risk overstimulation.

[01] Adjust your mindset to remove the authoritative connotations from the demand itself. My example would be to deflate the task in mind (mine being license renewal) and approach it with whatever control you have over the situation. I can bring a book or something to the MVD.

[02] Pace yourself because it's a marathon and not a race. Go for volume instead of intensity. All the while, be patient with yourself and accept that you're in for the long haul without any quick answers. But showing up for yourself each day is more than most people do anyway.

[03] Acknowledging that you showed up and did the work is its own reward but it never hurt either to kick back with some downtime after an arduous task. Positive reinforcement does better for your longevity than constantly berating yourself for mistakes.

That's all I got for now but I hope it helps, whoever you are.

_Gripes:

Now that I think about it, I never really internalized autism as a condition that actively affected me. More or less I just blamed it for my awkward social interactions but after looking into PDA and the talks with my mom, being on the spectrum had affected me more than I originally gave credit for which means...it will also affect people's perception of me.

Despite the present awareness, an autism spectrum disorder (ASD) is still heavily stigmatized. Too often it's used as a weapon against someone for odd behavior and misrepresented by the media. It's used as an excuse for someone's shitty behavior such as the world's richest man-child's nazi salute-and yes, it was a nazi salute. Furthermore, autism is one of those things people misconstrue as LOL I'm so random! Autism makes me quirky!, this is true of the same neurotypicals who will weaponize the label of having an ASD.

_So where do we go from here?:

Oh where am I to go, M'Johnnies oh where am I to go!

Work continues as usual but now I got a different set of circumstances to work with following this realization about myself that I put off until recently. I think I was mostly in denial and didn't want to even consider an ASD as a major factor in my routine, but stuff I read about pathological demand avoidance kept making way too much sense.

Personally it's disheartening to acknowledge that learning is going to be more of an uphill battle but the only way out is forward. Writing and drawing have been the two biggest items on my plate but I'm reminded of when I first started drawing again since I was in elementary school. I started with step-by-steps, challenged my own perceptions because drawing is based on how you process visual information, and soon it just became a part of my skillset regardless of talent. I did the same with leathersmithing during covid. My girlfriend got me into Monster Hunter, fell in love with the crafting system, and said I can figure this out.

Visualization, that's how I learned leathersmithing. Then some trial and error, some experimentation, and I feel more confident in my ability to make something like a phone pouch. In fact, I think I will make a new carrying case for the RPG travel kit. All I got is tool leather so once I draft a new template I'll hit up a Michael's or leather shop for material.

-Errant out