leave it to stargazers

good news. the things that used to upset me no longer upset me. bad news. i'm creating an army of bugs to hurt innocent bystanders

I lowkey hate when programs talk to me in a friendly way. "don't worry, nearly there!" Shut up. It should say "loading 64.3% completed. Do not turn off device" and absolutely nothing else. You arent my friend you are computer. Act like it

dont talk to me or the physical manifestation of my guilt ever again

freud really did oedipus so dirty. like i get that you're trying to come up with a deeply terrible psychological framework regarding sexual abuse, but oedipus very much did not want to fuck his mom OR kill his dad. like, the entire myth is predicated on this. an "oedipal complex" should be someone who is hellbent on avoiding fucking their mom.

i just feel like oedipus is mostly treated as vaguely taboo, like he's a fucked up monster, and NOT like he's basically the same as any other greek hero. he's roughly as moral and strong and clever and whatever as achilles or jason or hercules or whatever, he just ALSO is a guy the gods fucking hated.

actually its kinda fitting that freud made so many theories that mostly tried to link socially deviant behavior and weird fetishes and sexual abuse, and he decided to name that shit after a guy who very notably did not engage in weird fetishes or sexual abuse and had nothing but wholesome filial love for the people who raised him, but was doomed to be thought of that way anyway by his people. basically anyone with an "oedipus complex" didnt actually have that shit going on either, freud was just a hack.

anyway here's my new mental health framework: cassandra complex, where you just fucking lie all the time and everyone knows it and hates you for it.

i can’t stop thinking about the time my roommate and i asked our insanely ripped neighbor brian who wore flip flops year round and sunglasses on the back of his head for help with carrying a solid wood dresser up to our apartment. he wanted to get his son who was home from college to come help too so he takes out his phone and goes, “siri, call christian christianson” and turns speaker phone on while we stand there sort of stunned by the name and after a few rings cc answers, “what the hell do you want” and brian just hangs up without responding and is all, “kids, am i right” then carries the dresser up four flights of stairs pretty much by himself. we offered him a six pack of rainier as thanks which he immediately opened in our kitchen and downed 2/6 beers in 10 mins while telling us about his 1989 dodge ram 1500 he was trying to get his son to restore with him to no avail. really nice guy. we never saw his son before he went back to school but any time i ask my roommate for help with lifting stuff or reaching something he says, “siri, call christian christianson” and we reminisce about brian and his truck.