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Late to the party. Didn't think I have something to share until now.
I met a girl about two weeks ago. We played a match of Dota 2 together, and she was a good player and a nice person. Ended up talking, voice-over-IP, almost every day since.
I like her. In a twist of events, she likes me, too. It's an odd experience, but one Hubski helped me get accustomed to. We share a lot in common, and we enjoy spending time together, even if it's just voice chat. There's four hours of difference between us, so I end up staying up most times just to spend a few with her. This screws up my internal clock, which I come to realize more as time goes on. Hope we figure something out.
I worry that she stops liking me all of a sudden, like all the rest of the people did, but I think my fears are unbased. Everyone else was nice to me but stopped at one point or another. She keeps being nice to me. I'm anxious that sharing my worries with her might push her away - most of my previous experience with people - but... I think this is not the case. This, however, paves way to mistrust towards her, in a convoluted "avoidant control freak" manner. I'm trying to keep these thoughts at bay because finally, maybe, I have a shot at being with someone. God knows, I don't want to mess it up.
Also, check out the latest #tfgbeenupto post. Several people here enjoy seeing me do better. This might end up being one of those moments.
And the reason they didn't do it cheaper is, I presume, that it becomes more difficult to justify selling that thing for whatever they did.
- People are fucking assholes
Some people are assholes.
I like to remind that to people because it's easy to get lost in such a thought. I'm sure you checked yourself somewhere in the background. I'm sure you've noted that it's the particular kind of people you see often enough that unsettle you. But - what we tell ourselves, or about ourselves, is how we come to feel unless we moderate it. Call yourself an idiot for not solving a stupid problem enough, and you'd come to believe in it.
- I hate the internet. I really, fucking hate the internet.
No you don't. You hate the shit that pops up there sometimes.
- There is something unique about it, since it is unlike any other conspiracy theory. There is no end game in most cases. It requires more than any conspiracy on who is behind 9/11, but it usually gives no gains to the people that are perpetrating it.
Which makes one wonder why would you follow the theory. If there's nothing to gain from it, why bother promoting it?
I'm quite certain there is a gain, however: the feeling of being right in spite of the majority's view. It's surprisingly easy to deceive yourself into thinking that it's other people who are wrong, and it's very difficult to come to terms with the idea that you might be so.
With all the pressure from the rest of the world to "conform" and "accept the truth", I can see how many of the flat-earthers would double-down instead of stopping to think whether what they believe to be true coincides with reality.
What? A narcissist who lies for his image's sake?
It's clear that we had a misunderstanding somewhere along the conversation. The fact that I can't point where is one of the reasons I don't want to go down that road. If you could point out, in a simple and straightforward language, what you think went wrong, I would greatly appreciate it.
For what it's worth, I didn't mean to be a dick, in general or towards you in particular. I've been having crummy couple of days, after suddenly losing my edge, and it rattles me enough to cause online fights with decent people.
I apologize for my behavior. Wish I could say I won't do it again, but I can't promise that at the moment.
It wasn't a good argument because I wasn't arguing. I tried to, back when I was doing the long one at 2 AM. That right there, and that back there at IRC, were rants.
Then you started talking about fanfiction, saying you don't like it because it's not in your taste. I replied to you about what I think was wrong with that, in a concise manner. Then you told me I'm too hung-up on... something that I brought up in a wider context of old-school writers giving youth shit about things they do.
You wanna talk about what I said about Sapkowski and Glukhovsky? Alright. Let's talk about it. But bring something on the matter to the table instead of rehashing tangential topics.
- I would prefer to ask why I have turned out like this. By knowing the cause and extent of perceived damage you can start the mending process.
I don't know the extent of madness, but mere glimpses terrify me. I've seen unfiltered, childish anger from a woman twice my age and self-centered arrogance of a man who thought I only ever needed money to grow up happy. I thought all my life I was in the wrong for thinking a bad thing about someone or something, because it was all inherently my fault. Not a day goes by when I don't question even the slightest happy thought while the sound of desperation echoes at the void inside of me that I work very, very hard filling every fucking day.
And now you wonder why I'd rather shoot myself than become so closed off the world that I start actually talking shit?