I am hit with a sudden wave of depression and there is nothing left to do but plug into this machine of [[2025-04-22 Change|change]], step into this blog ether and hope that when I leave there has been enough movement to free myself. 
Why? 
Yesterday at night I stood outside the locked gates of an upper middle class apartment complex and gazed into the clean and comfortable exterior. Among fresh fallen leaves the black steel casts a long shadow towards me and is a poetic barrier to a life I want: the cozy dream, a warm hearth to escape the growing cold. I have been feeling lately that this will never be mine. I am feeling less of a positive [[2025-06-19 Transformation|transformation]] and more of a metamorphosis into an insect.
I hate moving. I feel that eventually as I settle into a place, with the false promise of permanence it seems to have the confidence to form a body of it's own. Now, when it is time to pack boxes and discard furniture I am gutting you, as I gutted one previously. In the end your barren [[2025-04-08 Skin|skin]] remains ready for exploitation by the next tenant. I am sorry.
I am sorry for using you. But I am grateful. You've seen me beyond my lowest, beyond my highest, protected some of my closest friends, and patiently warmed me as I learned to walk again. Rent could've been cheaper, but that's the pimp's fault. 
Goodbye, riverside home. 
---
It has been almost a year of writing these blogs. 
[[2024-09-26 Pain Causes Birth.]]
Having written truthfully, I always gain the courage to take another step. 
---
It has been two years since the following personal journal entry. 
Somehow looking at a worse state reminds me that despite everything, I am doing better. I am doing better. Hopefully one day I can look back at a journey higher on Maslow's hierarchy.
> Despair. Anguish. Just back from visiting ----
> Everything as usual, falls apart. Nothing can be fixed. It is what it is. 
> Is it what it is? I cannot think. My brain is melting, collapsing within itself.
> All doomed to failure. Giving in to despair. Nothing can be done.
> I hate everyone. I even hate those I love. I wish it would end. My life has been useless. And it will continue to be useless.
> There is no point. Even from a scientific perspective. No purpose. Nothing
> In nothing there is peace. In end there is peace. In detachment there is peace. Detachment. I need nothing to begin detachment. It will happen. It has happened.
> I am no longer attached to anything or anyone.
> Detachment. Detachment from people. Detachment.
> Detachment.
> Detachment
> Detachment
> Detachment 
> Detachment
> Detachment
> Detachment 
> Detachment
> Detachment
> Detachment
> Detachment
> Detachment 
> 23:38
> Maybe through detachment I can understand what is fair, what is not. Maybe through detachment I can express myself, gain understanding.
> 23:55
> Now that that is out, I think I feel I know the primary rule of life: to not give in to despair, no matter how hard it gets, or how hard it will get. Life is temporary anyway.
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