God

Okay here's one thing: if you're a litfic girlie and you want sentence-to-sentence divinity with some philosophical-psychological insight then you're fine for the time being. But if you work within a genre that doesn't really care about that, one in which the prose is a more or less transparent medium for "story," then you're going to have issues. Because what you're ultimately aiming at is fairly indifferent to the particular details. So genres of mere pleasure or mere entertainment are going to be hit really hard. Like if you're an Amazon self-publish fantasy writer who relies on churning out four novels a year to pay rent, you might just be fucked.

fascinated by jeff the killer tbh. everyone in that creepypasta has generic white usamerican names (jeff, keith, barbara, billy, etc.) except for jeff the killer's doe eyed little brother liu. why is he liu. is liu chinese? it's okay if he's chinese. is jeff also chinese? has jeff the killer been chinese this whole time? am I a bad person?

There should be a Pride flag for Kinsey 1s and it should be slightly but noticeably nicer than all the other ones

(ogre crossbowman) me going to use bone bolts after run out of poison ones and then me definitely going to rout

Part of the problem is that I kind of believe in Taylor's distinction between deep and shallow people in more or less the way he articulates it. And the problem is that most people, perhaps even especially philosophers are shallow in exactly the way he articulates.

There is something strange about how people (in certain circles) talk after the wave of "mental health activism" of the 2010s. And it is sometimes like "neurotypical" or "mentally healthy" people are just supposed to have infinite forbearance for mentally ill people. Like take depression for example. It's like you're supposed to just tank a lot of negativity and not say anything. And it seems like when you're depressed you actually do get really insecure and really annoying. Then you get self-aware about this. Then fueling your self-hatred is the sense that you are being clingy and annoying. Which you are. Then you start complaining about how clingy and annoying you are and your "rock" is just supposed to tank that too and not say anything and assure you that everything is fine. They're creating a wonderful world of falsehood for you which is supposed to make you feel better but which is of course so flimsy that you couldn't possibly feel anything other than despair in it. But if the mask slips then they're toxic, they're the problem, they're not supporting you enough. It just seems a rather strange world that we're building for ourselves. It also seems like a completely unreasonable set of expectations to put on another person. And again I wonder if we're destroying ourselves by getting lost further and further in a defective network of concepts.

is it creepy to give a warm pleasant smile of a friendly nature