2026 - 04 10 "You are a deus ex machina."

2026 - 04 10

Friday, April 10th, 2026

7:23 PM

"You Are a Deus Ex Machina"

That's what this chick said to me, smiling. Like it was some great thing. Like I could easily just have whatever I wanted, I could save the world with a wave of my hand. Condescending fucking smile. 

I was hanging out with different friends. Trying to. One after another, they each seemed to randomly ditch me. 

I sat across the table, from friend # 5.

"I'm not fucking stupid." I said to him. 

"I know someone told you, and all my friends and family, to limit hanging out with me. For some reason. Perhaps supposedly maybe for my own benefit... 

So here's the problem. You all misdiagnosed me. I was never some bum ass stoner having a good ol' time looking at pretty colors. I was not out partying and losing myself in other people. 

Loneliness and isolation is nothing to me, it's an natural as breathing, that ain't shit. 

That being said, this body is a human body. A social creature... You all are very directly negatively impacting my mental health by 1) basically abandoning me and 2) all being in agreement to do this behind my back, for whatever reason. 

These two factors alone are so detrimental to my mental health, so. You're fucking dumb."

They would never directly talk about anything. Just brush things off, laugh, pretend not to know. Maybe they were threatened, by some intelligence agencies. Who knows. But they would give cryptic hints. 

My friend was scribbling something onto some paper. The word debt was on the paper. He circled it over and over again, held up the paper, and smiled. 

"Okay. I have debt. I should be further in my professional career. I should be going to the gym. 

Man. All of that was shit I would naturally have done if a bunch of mother fuckers didn't kick my door down and bother me. 

You know why, bitch?

Because I've been through suicidal depressions thousands of times in my fucking life. 

You all just threw a wrench into my natural process.

Multiple wrenches. 

A seemingly endless supply of wrenches. 

And all I asked for was transparency, some honesty.

And I only ever got ANY of that from those 2 beautiful perfect women you all tried (and failed miserably) to weaponize against me (fucking pathetic attempt, btw).

But my friends? My own fucking family?

It's hilarious! What a comedy! 

I'M laughing at my father and uncle's terrible acting jobs. My mother's as well. Very easy to see through! There's gotta be classes at Montgomery College or something you can take to be more convincing."

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Every Disney movie had an evil mom or whatever. This is where you all get your little "mother wound" term. 

Things have changed. It's not always your dad whose the main villain (Darth Vader).

Sometimes it's your piece of shit older brother (Sephiroth).

Sometimes it's not the loss of your mom that makes you go crazy, maybe it was just a friend (Maria).

'Just' a friend... Sounds dismissive, reductionist? No. Belittling. 

Like we don't love our friends. 

You people don't love your friends?

Honestly... Yeah... Most of you don't, do you?

In my old life... I guess by default, I cared way too much about people who didn't feel anything close to the same. I thought we were closer than we were. All of my 'friends.' 

I... thought that's what friends were. Kind of like family. Even though we're not really a family... it felt like it. I guess that was just me the entire time. 

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We've reached the boiling point for misery. The human spirit won't let it get worse than this. Your writers can't write. Your thinkers can't think. Your shamans can't shaman. Your poets can't... write either. Too much burning down all around them, even if that's not the physical reality at all. 

You need only break a man's spirit and enslave his mind to gain total control over him. 

That appears to be the dumb ass rule of this current world. Which is basically a recipe for a slow, polite, bitch-ass suicide. You all KNOW this shit isn't gonna work for much longer. Something is going to break. 

I proposed countless brilliant ideas to get us on multiple better tracks. Some of those ideas were implemented, good job. 

Even though you mother fuckers owe me a check. 

Either way.  It's still not enough. 

Y'all need to step it up before you lose the world God gifted you. 

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Never in my life have I cried wolf. I never cried about abandonment or blamed other people. But because people are conditioned to believe anyone saying stuff like that must be a life long bitch complainer, it seems like no one took my truthful expressions seriously. 

Because they themselves, and most of their friends and families, complain about fucking everything and always bitch---- 

THEY think ME saying anything truthful that THEY perceive as negative--- is "just bitching."

Just "complaining."

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"THE BRITISH ARE COMING!! THE BRITISH ARE COMING!!!"

"Pfft, whatever fag. Well what're you gonna do about it, just scream and cry all day? Why are you running THE OTHER direction if they're coming? Want everyone to fight your battles??

Have you ever thought of like, focusing on yourself??

Instead of being SO concerned about other people. Get over the British. They're just living their lives. 

That's just the way this world is."

"...okay, fuck all of you, enjoy fucking dying."

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Guts and Griffith is a Rorscach test. 

Sam and Frodo.

David and... uh... his friend. 

If YOU think it's gay. It's cause you're gay my guy lmaoooo.

Mother fuckers have been projecting reflexively so long they don't even realize they do it. 

It's hilarious. I'm laughing. 

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That's what this chick said to me, smiling. Like it was some great thing. Like I could easily just have whatever I wanted, I could save the world with a wave of my hand. Condescending fucking smile. 

But it wasn't a condescending smile. Her smile enraged me, so I chose to repaint her smile as condescending. 

Her smile was the smile you give a child on an easter egg hunt. In our house, we would hide the entire basket. The baskets had. Ya know. Chocolate and stuff. 

We had a lot of really fun times. 

I remember when my nephew was a baby, looking for his basket. Not a baby. Like. 6 or whatever. And he had just started, just barely, and he couldn't find it-- he collapsed on the floor in despair. 

But it was like, RIGHT there. 

That's the kind of smile she had.

Like she knows I am suffering greatly-- but-- from her perspective, in her world-- it appears that all I have to do is... whatever. Something super easy. Like, walk a few feet, look behind the couch, boom, there's your easter basket. 

The way she was smiling. Like she knew I was in pain. Like she was hopeful. But also scared. Running out of patience, maybe. Annoyed by my failures. 

The anger I feel in reaction to this is lightning fast. Anyone telling me how easy things are, how "easy" saving the world is, how easy saving myself is, how easy fixing everything is-- I used to get mad at that immediately. But not anymore. 

"You are a deus ex machina."

It angers me that anyone thinks that would be good. Imagine the fucking pressure on someone you told that to. 

I believe this is what you told my father. And many others. And the only choice seems to be, what. Act crazy to get people to fuck off and stop pedestalizing you. That's better than silently feeling guilty and shitty for being "God" but not figuring out how to save the world and protect everyone you love. 

I've tried everything. 

Don't pay attention to me, I'm fuckin' around. My stomach hurts. Ugh. Man. Man oh man. Just kinda ranting at this point. 

Feel like I might throw up. Ugh. Just gotta ride this out. Stay positive. Thank you God. Ooh sah.

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