I was laying in bed-- laying? lying? lieing? I'll go with laying. I was laying in bed with my face sort of wedged between two pillows. For some reason I woke up and thought to myself that this arrangement was quite comfortable. It was so comfortable that I wondered (in my not-so straight-thinking slumber) whether I could make it even more comfortable, and possibly achieve a near-perfect level of comfort to drift back to sleep into like a falling feather. So I fiddled about a bit, tugged on the pillows, re-angled my body. It was less comfortable. I adjusted even more, and it was less comfortable still. So I tried to restore that original position (which was quite comfortable), and was only able to arrive at a mocking shadow of my earlier state, taunting me with its soul-crushing comparative imperfection. So, being much less comfortable than before, I fell into a fitful sleep and had bad dreams of madmen hunting me with carving knives.

In auditing news:

The Custodian -- on page 37 out of 40 .... This is getting heavy, folks.
wertperch -- on page 6 out of 10 -- progress!!
gnarl -- on page 3 out of 6 -- better than nothing!!

It has been many months since my last visit to E2. Months spent living as I have seen others do; full of joy and movement and some less than desirable qualities. I promised myself that I’d only return to E2 when I understood what it was to me. At the risk of beating a dead horse, I consider this place a home. One that I’ve skulked in like a terrible wraithe, shying from recognition and light. But still a home. I very nearly raised myself on the various “how-to” nodes, learned romance and killed my white knight complex, cut my teeth on literature as a whole in this wondrous hive of scum and villainy.

So what does this mean? I’ll be using this daylog as a manifesto of sorts. No no, wait I need someone to bear witness to my burst of madness. I enjoy writing. I’d like to write more. I enjoy E2. I’d like to become a more active user. So I’ll be writing more on E2 and fighting back whatever shame roils up in me and grow as both a person and a writer. I already regret this node.

Oh right, people primarily use the daylog as means of venting or acknowledging events in their lives.
I gambled on many colleges and nearly lost the game.
I learned the meaning of stress.
I traveled to rather bustling city, bonded with a few classmates and, lived in the moment for once.
I’ve come to terms with my depression.
I’ve gained some understanding of myself and don’t particularly like what is present.
I’m graduating.

I lived. It was a nice change.

This was largely unedited and almost devoid of softlinks.

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