Just another life update, to clean out the cobwebs in my brain.

[narrative_nerd]

I'm watching Starship and as I reach the end of Act 1 - where I've currently stopped - I'm thinking, why is this such a universal narrative? Why does nobody ever feel like they fit in? Is everybody just settling for something? I legitimately don't understand. Do we never make it? Is happiness just some great myth we perpetuate like gods to console

Comments

[unkickablekitty]

I'm working on being happy. It comes in stages. Right now I'm happier than ever -- and I worry for the day when I can no longer say that statement, when I reach my peak of "ultimate life happiness" and it starts to go downhill. I think partially, my happiness is a self-delusion: if you can convince yourself you're happy, then what is there keeping you from feeling it? (But the real question is: if you know it's a delusion, is it really a delusion anymore? I think at that point it just becomes doublethinking.)

I get the people thing. Lately, I've made rules for myself. If someone asks me to do something -- to hang out, to go somewhere, whatever -- I do it, regardless of whether I feel like it or whether I just want to curl up in bed with my thoughts instead. Because chances are, once I'm actually, physically there, I'll jump back into state and will be content as ever to be out of the house and with others. My only exception: if I have clashing invitations, I go with the one that least seems like what I've done recently, with the