Am I ace? Am I aro? Am I a quivering, grayish-pink mass of misfiring neurons in a tank somewhere, desperately seeking to create meaning from nothingness? Am I aro-ace?


Yeah, everyone knows you abbreviate it as aro/ace, not aro-ace. What the heck.

Maybe the robotic overlords who cultivated my artificial thought-matrix gave me a penchant for non-standard abbreviations. Because, I mean, otherwise I can see how that might be disturbing.

Am I ace? Am I aro? Am I a quivering, grayish-pink mass of misfiring neurons in a tank somewhere, desperately seeking to create meaning from nothingness? Am I aro-ace?

My therapist gave me an assignment this week: I have to write/design a character who is quirky and interesting but has a back-story completely free of tragedy or angst.

The fact that I’m finding it very challenging should tell you something about myself, I guess.

I woke up in the middle of the night last night and had a legit identity crisis because I actually couldn’t tell if I was myself or one of my OCs.

Glad to see my obsession has finally begun tiptoeing towards honest delusion, though in my defense it was 3 in the morning and I’m still sick as fuck.

Tips for loosing weight: become mysteriously ill and loose the ability to feel hunger, then forget to eat unless someone reminds you.

It’s the weirdest shit. I’ll go all day, eat nothing, and not even realize it. I’ve lost almost 10 pounds in a few weeks. I swear, it’s completely unintentional.

I should probably go eat lunch.

Update: suddenly, hemichorea. My right arm and leg are flailing uncontrollably and I can barely walk or use my right hand.

I am taking this disturbingly in stride. At this point, I actually expect to just keep getting sicker.

At least my room-mate is being super sweet and helpful.

Maybe it’s just because it’s sort of the ‘orientation of the week’ but I’ve started to wonder if my romantic orientation might be as gray as my sexuality.

I’ve always thought of myself as a very romantic person, but it’s honestly not really backed up by the facts. Certainly I’m more romantic than sexual, but I actually haven’t really had so much as a crush in about three years. In hindsight, I’d really say I’ve only had genuine romantic feelings for two people in my life, and I thiiink that’s kinda significantly bellow average. Both cases started out as friendship and blossomed into sliiiightly fanatical, I-still-have-dreams-about-you-years-later love, which is… interesting. So, from the current data, I guess I am very much capable of romantic attraction but rarely, and highly selectively.

Which is weird and totally goes against the way I’ve perceived myself for years, but hey. What are ya gonna do.

I actually have a date today.

Turns out I’m pretty good at this whole online dating thing. I have actually met up with people before but this one seems particularly promising. As in, it’s almost explicitly a date and not just ‘meet a stranger for coffee.’ Which of course means I’m nervous as fuck. Which exacerbates both my neuro stuff and my IBS. Hope they’re ready for a sickly, twitchy weirdo!

Also I gotta go do my nails; I get so obsessive about my appearance when I meet new people.

I recently came to the somewhat unfortunate realization that I’m in chronic pain, walk with a cane, and I’m highly intelligent, overly rational, and a staunch atheist. Also I can be sort of a dick.

At the very least it won’t be a current reference anymore, but if I don’t get called Dr. House for the cane alone at least once, I’ll be fucking shocked.

ryoukisarazu is, to be honest, the over-all best person ever, and that should be a matter of public record.

Also disturbingly proud that my Wikipedia-aided self-diagnosis was spot fucking on,down to the subtype.

Time to stock up on some motherfucking brochures and shit.

Maybe I will make a super informative post about it, later. For now, I’m gonna look for a sweeter cane online ‘cause this Walgreen’s shit ain’t cutting it.

Well, I’ll probably be disabled for the rest of my life, but at least it’ll be a life of normal length.

Haha honestly what the fuck is my life.

Well, I see my neurologist in an hour and a half.

She’s got the result of a test for a very serious disease, and she wants to tell me in person. Which probably means nothing, admittedly. A negative is far more likely, given my history.

Somehow, I’ve actually sort of come to terms with this, whatever happens. I’ve been freaked out about this for over a month, and very soon, it’ll be over and I’ll know. This’ll be the last post I’ll make not knowing, and I kinda feel like Schrodinger’s Cat. The truth is already true, but until I open the box my own truth is in flux. Ignorance isn’t exactly bliss, per se, but it is philosophically fascinating.

See you on the other side of knowing!



please watch this ad for a squirting dildo called Buster McNut

no. you’re lying to me. this isn’t real.

(via yolo-frollo)

Yeah, alright, today is one of those days where I just feel like overthrowing something. Maybe not the entire government, but a couple of institutions would be nice.