Third person narrative analysis makes it easier i. On narcissist-autistic dreams and condemning my own mind    a. caesuras: "Companies track your data to save lives" wasn't for me but rather it was probably Prof. Falgui who likely wanted to die because his career was ruined     b. paolomanalo: fountain pen+book picture wasn't for me but it was for the victims, Prof. Audrey and Prof. Falgui, and my Term Paper "sung lamentations at funerals" is pettiness     c. Describing all these makes me feel discomfort and guilt, but not as pronounced as before. I think this makes me a horrible person, but somehow my brain rationalizes my lack of remorse or true sadness for them [out of my spite] because of everything that has happened to me.    d. I think I only picked the Falgui ship [and broke my own mind in the process] because I had no interaction with Sabby that was positive offline, I thought Prof. Falgui was more attractive in that "he's the prize" [it disgusts me that I thought about him in that way and how I let that influence my behavior] because he had so many girls after him, and even though he didn't seem to be rich enough [for my narcissistic dream standards] I was confident that I would earn a ton of money from writing myself.    e. I no longer feel any kind of attraction to the idea of romance for my own with anyone as I don't think anything good will come out of it.    f. I don't even feel the need to form friendships and I was constantly reminded of this 'flaw' because my brain has naturally very few if any need to socialize and develop psycho-social support networks. It is pain for me to even try to attempt forming bonds for some reason in this place with anyone who knows my whole story [although I do not know if the alternative would have been better as before when I tried to make people understand how incompetent I was at talking or they figured it out themselves].     g. I think I reached the point of no return and I thought about the trans woman who hit the old guy on the train and thought, Wow, that's one way of looking at it. I saw him looking down and hunched over on Nov. 26 and I regret walking within his vicinity. I understand the fact that I hurt people and that they want to detach themselves from me and the memory of me as much as possible, and no apology is probably going to help.  ii. Insular family     a. I don't blame my parents anymore but sometimes it's just a bit glaring to me how I didn't really develop socially, partially because the environment, and partially because I got the worst of my mom's kind of low empathy and my dad's schizoidness. I would say my mom's narcissistic because I have lived with her and my sister would agree that she would sometimes insult her features and say, "When I was your age mas gwapa pa ko" or generally tear down my sister. I don't have that experience but I remember all too often my mom not listening [she isn't deaf], whenever we addressed her or tried to talk to her and she actually didn't hear what we'd just said because she was thinking of some other thing [I think I take from her a lot in this aspect]. I also remember saying to Dra. Paz in their car with Isabella, Kate, and Alizeiah, [if I remember correctly] that she had no common sense.  iii. Nov 26 and previous days    a. I think what happened was that, contrary to what popular voices have said, and because I think I've come up with approximate answers, is that Prof. Manalo hated me from that point on in December when Prof. Audrey informed him about its suspicious origins, and channeled that to teach me not to ruin people's relationships just because I thought it was okay. He also hates the fact that his relationship [probably] as colleagues with Prof. Falgui [assuming they're friendly] has been strained and that they find it awkward or even unpleasant to even communicate [somebody must be in talks with them both to sync information/data, someone like Prof. Audrey].     b. Just realized that being incapable of genuinely caring for people is tragic but it does not bother me for some reason which I think is even more tragic to some people who still believe I can somehow do something about it. Genuinely caring as in how exactly? Exactly. I don't know because I'm unable to understand because of my narcissistic autistic brain and the fact that I don't feel anything right now is just weird to process. Rock bottom is actually emptiness and indifference but if I'm indifferent about being empty then     c. Everything just feels mechanical but I do not know what Depakote is going to do/since I'm not in therapy or have enough free time to question my behavior         d. "Philanthropic" behavior is not actually philanthropic when it's not your money. I have accepted that I will fail CL172 and might have to retake it if the poetry class [not Prof. Manalo if ever one opens]. Anything I could write for the final paper and essay will probably be bad.     e. I haven't written about Nanay Mela, but when I heard that she was already terminal I could only think of what might happen to my parents and Am-am. There really was no emotional connection on my part and I only worried about being saddled with the caretaker role when I got older and finished college. I know she had been in the family for so long, and I've written about her once in the Profiles, but it's like the kind of 'relationship' where she's only familiar because she's been with us ever since I remember. I know it's inhumane to think [someone from another culture or point of view that can't tell my parents directly] that she's over 60 and has a walking problem because of her other condition which I'm not sure is diabetes or another, but she still does her job as a helper by caring for Am-am and doing lesser-straining tasks.         f. I can't help but feel Othered again over and over but lately it's grown too weirdly huge but it doesn't feel as heavy but it's still there. It's like I have layers of damage and suppression to sort through once I finish this sem. Not like. It's actually the truth.         g. I no longer feel as bad about myself because probably my brain has already figured out it's futile to contemplate my "SMV" for no productive reason [as in I'm not trying to play the field or catch fish or what]. I still feel twinges of pain whenever attractive women deliberately walk in front of me to rub it in, but 'it shouldn't hurt' right? I suppose it's leftover spite that I still have to untangle. I mean no harm but sometimes what comes out of my mouth gets the best of me. I apologize for the last few days of screaming on air.         h. I had been considering moving out of P-21 because I cannot live with people. It's not personal in the way how some people just can't. It's not that I dislike Jam, who I have not written about, but everything that has to do with the Situation [and the whole process of being here] has made it impossible to go beyond acknowledging or sometimes not even talking for days. I've noticed I'm not the only one like this and the two roommates I had along with my sister at Kamia did not seem to be even on talking terms, as I've never once heard the other speak to the other.         i. I've been debating with myself whether or not I should feel like it should be my duty to continue going into the kids' houses and developing them but that's just not feasible at the moment considering my own inadequate training and vocabulary and conversation schema. I do not know how to relate to kids or anyone much less teach them. At this point, my depression or this 'numbness' sometimes allows me to do out of character things like actually going to Dagohoy, but I was once again politely told to fuck off by Ira and the neighborhood when they must have heard how I wrote my real feelings [which I understand makes people feel dehumanized] about taking their kids for a few hours for a project. By using profanity I thought it was appropriate, like a sweet 'get the fuck out of here who do you think you are bitch?' I do not hate them for feeling truly. I don't like their situation but sometimes feelings really interfere. Like I have said in the past, if my heart is not actually in it [the irony], it's just going to be pointless coupled with the fact that I myself am ill-equipped to develop them. [Don't have the resources nor income to really 'adopt' them like hold semi-regular meetings/classroom sessions nor the brain/mental will like Prof. Aquino did for her thesis when she made them learn letters.        j. Popular voice and Iskomai [overheard from P-21]        I think what also happened since Prof. Flores was my most recent prof. then, aside from Prof. Falgui and Prof. Quina, people naturally pinned the blame on him. I was a bit or mildly shocked when I remembered that contempt picture on Humans of New York with the subject a guy who looks like that guy who reads/writes fantasy in CL111. A consequence I didn't foresee and that which I cannot take back. Also remember the guy who looks like him kind of in Art Circle looking at me smiling and a Falgui lookalike beside him with his back to me. Either that was a friend or a symbol of Prof. Audrey [since she likes fantasy like Tolkien].        k. In an ideal world, Nanay Mela shouldn't have to work as a maid. Being over 60 and having her body ravaged by disease all the more, society should have provided some kind of home for the aged where actual people are actually hired and paid to do the kind of caretaking that my family can't provide or her family can't provide (she would have the choice of going back to her home but I guess staying so long with our family has made the idea not so ideal for her except for, as my dad says, her going back there on leave or on vacation so she could spend more time with her remaining family. I don't know how my Angkong or other relatives are supporting her as she waits, but my Angkong apparently "acknowledged" her ownership of a piece of land "downtown" and in the bukid. I guess why I'm writing this is because I'm frustrated at the lack of options for people, both my parents and Nanay Mela. For my parents, what alternative would be there aside from hiring helpers (and from my position as someone with privilege I naturally think that "no one wants to be a maid or no one sets out in life to be a maid forever" or that no one, I don't think you even need privilege to know or acknowledge from experience that doing someone else's upkeep for money doesn't make for a good life and outlook; the only solution I think would be to pay them more for what they do like professional housekeepers) since no one in our family can cook or really have time to do anything (I of course can learn how but seeing that I'm away studying it's not feasible), and the added fact that my dad has decided not to hire new help because he doesn't trust new people to go up to our rooms (most probably because he doesn't think anyone else can take care or watch over Am-am except for Nanay Mela or Manang Lydia because of the familiarity; and I think his reasons are valid in that he can't be both stay-at-home-dad who works in the shop and go up periodically or every ten minutes to watch his daughter). I don't know what kind of world we would have if no one had to sell their physical labor or be forced to stay in that position for too long into their sixties and beyond, like Nanay Mela, because it's either they did not get any opportunity to move up the professions or any other reason that they couldn't help to a certain extent by themselves because of how the system stacked it. I guess what prompted this is my worry (and also the fact that I currently and validly feel the "I did not ask to be a future caretaker" as my sister, not to dehumanize her existence but, she does not currently show any sign that she will be independent on her own, as she can't communicate, can't currently walk, has the cognitive abilities of a one or two year old, can't feed herself, can't regulate her bowels and digestive system (her disabilities are much more worse than mine and I feel the need to air this out since I myself am disabled and can't be independent so the thought worries me even more.) When my mom and dad die, my sister Ally and I will probably have to arrange or do something (and I think this will mostly fall on me since I think she's getting married or will become married in the near future) in order to secure a good future or the kind of care that my sister needs. I can't imagine myself doing the "extracting" of her poop when she's forty and can't do it herself.        l. Mom knows best: "What comes from the mouth comes from the heart." I always thought this was a bit ironic since my mom can be provoked to say things that she regrets like me. I do not know whether or not there is a difference between thinking and speaking but I guess speaking it out—my anger or things to retaliate at the things that happen to me—makes me bitter and a slave to my own bitterness and reinforces it over and over. To become an adult means I will have to start shutting up about things that are reasonably trivial. Silence often doesn't mean anger but controlling my outward response means I get to practice self-control. Hopefully the myelin that gets a boost from my ranting will die off and I will have more resources to put to other more important issues in 2020. This means stopping profanity if I can help it. I really need to stop swearing. God, I don't want to blame circumstances but being in this place makes it harder to be stable. I'm tired mentally and physically. Mostly both but it's mostly emptiness and draining. I don't know why I can't have self-control as I'm already 22 and I thought I was supposed to get better at it as I got older but it seems like nothing is growing or improving about the way I think and interpret and write and I actually think I got worse. I know it's not all an upward trajectory but I just feel like giving up.