Laptop is overheated and I didn’t even use it. Planned obsolescence indeed. --- - Had a dream where I had to order a delicacy - a pie of some sort at a grocery - from a frozen meat section(?). Weird, pies instead of meat. I had a vague feeling of being tested. Gelo was there. He was standing near me as if half-expecting something. I talked to him first after mustering some courage and 'assuming the best' from the liminal feeling of kinship. I felt like a guy all over again. In the dream I found out he was not straight. We had the same Apple watch. - In real life I remember seeing him on a jeep as well, as I headed for my CW 101 class. A jeep I rode. Saw him sometimes at a Physics large class, and I'd moved up the seats out of an unconscious need to be near him. He'd also been in my Comm 3 class. He's originally from bio. I thought I was older than him by a year or two. - Watched Turning Red last night. Got reminded of a familiar face - Sadie Huang, a pretty, rich, and fashionable BA student. I don't know why but it had brought back some memory of my time in CW 100. I felt like JM Casiño, a guy I had sort of a happy crush on (same as with Gelo) had a crush on this compsci student in the class. Anyway, I liked him better for that. How awfully predictable. He'd be a Byronic hero who likes Jane Eyre more than Blanche Ingram, and I'd be Bertha Mason. - My point has been lost in all these details. I mean, these guys were all relatively pleasant compared to what I "went through" with Prof. Falgui and Sabby. Of course, of course, who can forget Stanley? Someone I barely knew because he was not active on social media at all. What had happened on that day on February 14, 2020? I was staring at a hybrid--a monster: a guy who'd possessed both Falgui and Sayson and had transformed into a mirage. I thought I'd seen a ghost of something. It was so indescribable a sight. And then he'd looked at his watch--as if jolting me back to the title: "No Time Enough For Love" in ALL_WRITERS_GOTO_HELL. Then I'd looked down at the ground just in time for the car beside me near the church--a barely absorbed scene with two people in it--two thick-faced people--voyeur couples who offend old people and prudes. Now I remember suddenly. I'd just had an inkling of who I had based Otep on. It was not Sabby. It wasn't Prof. Kristoffer. It was Stanley. I think. Or a hybrid of one of those half-random Chinese guys I saw at compsci. I am not sure of their names now. I wish I had more adult problems. The problems I got handed in life are so pedestrian. Just a trace of a basis for my characters--Otep being a Twitter sensation after some girls spot him on TV--who on earth could be more photogenic or more fitting than Stanley? At least, to me at the time in 2016-2017? - No offense, just realism. I remember that Joaquin guy from Psychology(?) in my STS class when I was some months after finishing CW 100. I only remember because I'd talked about the Cold War as if I was an expert to a groupmate or classmate after I had researched details on Laika the dog for my story. I felt like every girl in that room ached for his genes. I mean, personally, he was too pretty in that "blinding" artista way. Some sort of Alden Richards type. - I was in a Socio 10 class and there was this girl from Fine Arts--a Jea Gaviña type. I find categories to be useful when I'm running out of words, so. I felt this same sort of current--a sense I have. I don't know if it's just me. Being in my situation or interiority, probably. Maybe with my perception I can feel it radiate off people. Sitting next to a guy, and he'd be unaware of his own body giving him away despite not even being showy about it. know who you like. You don't even have to do anything. Yet you might as well be giving heart eyes like a binary on/off switch. It's not anonymous to me anymore, hence my view that if the mystery is off--the world would be a better place. The mystery is a hotbed for infidelity. Same experience with Philo 10 (or was it Philo 1). A guy I sensed was just being himself. Being awkward. Being nervous. Being openly aware of his attraction to my groupmate, smiling to himself or to her more than any of the others. I don't know what signal gave it away but observation on my end was clear. - Maybe being exposed to all these--being so consumed of thoughts of what guys are into--and what they most definitely do not like (that which is me, the observer of their behavior) have all somehow molded my brain in a way. In a permanent 'interiority' map kind of way. To remodel my mind I have to get myself out of my head. Being in Eng 21 did something to me. A change of pace. More than that, I don't know. A superstimulus kind of way. If I were to rank what the effects were, I'd say Stanley was a lesser superstimulus because I hadn't really seen a lot of Tweets of him being worshiped by girls. And we had barely anything in common in our interests. And I never really got to know him. Eng 21 was different. If I hadn't been a socmed stalker I'd have never been subject to these, and yet here I am. A person in 1850 would not have my problems. Can you imagine Charlotte Brontë being handed a public repository of people's secrets and points of view (that is, socmed and secret identities). We would never have great books such as hers. In Eng 21 I felt I had been studied, or at least, interesting enough to study or talk to. I wonder what Brontë based all her affections on. How do you fall in love with people when you don't know anything about them at all except what they could offer you in terms of beauty or money? That is, security--your children will be provided for and be able to reproduce successfully by attracting their own mates when they grow up. - Of course, I don't know what it's like to be normal. I was never "pursued" in a proper way. I was a liminal love in the best case. A possibility. Not a 'certainty' or a motivational target. What must it feel like to be Amy? What does it mean to be loved in that way? How can I ever bring that to these people if all I have are notions and speculations based on opinions online? I'd say this is common--all the nerd girls out there with no experience. Love & Gelato, etc. etc. Girls who have never been asked out at all. Girls who were never recipients of eros. I have to find those perspectives of girls from TikTok again who talk about this. I feel like a tool. An object. I lose everything of myself--my talent, my time, my experience, my suffering, and mold my brain to give myself to characters much, much more privileged than me. All so that normal people can feel things. I am a very talented parrot. - I would much rather be interested in theoretical physics. My stories only bring me pain.