It’s 3 am. Clearly what I need to be doing is lying in bed pondering whether any of my WIPs are worth writing or not.
Me: Ah, this podcast/youtube video about a topic that interests me looks good.
Announcer: The MAKER of the VIDEO is like THE SMARTEST AMATEUR INVESTIGATIVE JOURNALIST EVER and HE’S GONE PLACES NO ONE ELSE DARED TO GO OMG HE IS SO AMAZING–
Me: Or I could listen to the new Evanescence album. Yeah.
I’m watching Westworld. The Anthony Hopkins character keeps programming robots to kill themselves.
Which is pretty meta, when you think about it.
And one of the reasons I love this show is that it gets me thinking that we don’t have to keep being what we were programmed to be. We can choose to change. We don’t have to harm ourselves just because some jerk programmed us to do so.
It’s getting so that practically all I read is nonfiction, so that I’ll understand this crazy world of ours better, and fanfiction, so that I’ll have fun. Every year I read less fiction that got past some editor somewhere.
Today I went to the main fansite for my previous fandom for the first time since Loki poked me in the chest with his Glowstick of Destiny and I just felt so soothed. I had forgotten what it was like to feel happy because of my fandom. To be able to peruse stuff from it without being terrified.
It seems like reading the memoirs of a drug dealing gang banger shouldn’t remind me of elementary school.
Sometimes I just think how incredibly arrogant society is to children.
Like, they arrive without having consented to anything, and so many things are demanded of them.
It’s at least sort of reasonable that they’re asked to work and all that, because human survival requires it.
But they’re ordered to dress in a certain way, and listen to certain music, etc etc ad nauseam.
And the adults immediately around them generally demand that they tailor their souls to the adults’ needs. Which is not in fact possible, but the majority of humans in history have sacrificed their lives and sanity trying to deliver it.
Just, who the hell do humans think they are, demanding that new arrivals warp their very being according to the whims of those who got here sooner?
And that I even think “why is society not helping children to achieve self-actualization instead of to conform to whatever the current historical accident happens to be” shows just how out of step I am with our species.
I’m not the only one, but still. It’s just so weird.
Whenever there are two or more cats on my bed – which is often, because I have four of ‘em – I tell Roommate, “My bed is Loki’s brain.”
Me: Some of those famous occultists were basically just GuyInYourMFA with amulets.
Nano-writer: So… Occult Guy In Your Coffee Shop?
Nano-writer: “I don’t wear _black._ I wear a shade of obsidian that can only be found at the very heart of the Abyss. And also at Target.”
Indiana Jones & The Last Crusade: *is on tv*
Sean Connery & Harrison Ford: *are both onscreen*
Dad: Hey, Han Solo and James Bond! That’s like one of your fanfics!