I haven’t listened to Post Malone in my life, but now Vico’s posted a funny set of pics of the back of his head and now I’m kind of addicted to this song called “Circles.” It’s my type of music. 12:00AM: Finally finished my Otherwise Fellowship application. I realized I have 15 days or so to finish all my 3 projects this year. Four, if you count CW 200 work as 2. I basically have to complete CW 198 before 21 ends, start work on my novel Unreal Image as fast as humanly possible to complete it before Jan 1 as well as my critical essay, and make Prof. Kwe read it before submitting my grade on Jan 8, which is the deadline for grad submission. And there’s my optional but highly desirable side project for Young Creatives Challenge. I feel like I’ll really burn out after this year ends if I manage to make it. I just didn’t realize how much time I had left. I have literally 15 days left to do the heaviest work of my entire undergrad career. Why did I put this off? And I think I’m running out of Atomoxetine. I’m gonna be in trouble, unless I wizen up and actually start being disciplined. Which I’ve never really done before in my life. I’m gonna have to be content with writing shittily. BYE. THE HOMESTRETCH!! THE FINAL 15!!! MAKE IT COUNT!!! I have no idea but on Sunday, I had the distinct feeling that I was pressured to complete my work by Vico’s post on the bad food. So I responded with a public post about the Da Vinci article on his procrastination on FB. I dunno. There was a space between “a” and “joyful” (from my “completely spaced it” Santa repost on Bluesky and the reference to my first name and last name meaning “joy” and his first and last names being Italian) and the two emojis faintly reminded me of my own style. Now the Post Malone song and the “So I don’t take the blame” is really worsening my delusion. This is how an ideas of reference delusion starts and gets sustained. Even without his probable knowledge, I could be forming a parasocial attachment to what I think are his communications, which is terribly likely given the fact that schizo people really do have a weakness to think that people are sending them secret messages. But as long as I don’t contact him, I should be able to stay safe and have fun having my brain be tickled by this false love. It’s like a cut above a fictional love story I could self-insert but still a notch below real intimate love. What else do I have, though? I’m having fun with the illusion. I’m probably in denial about my infatuation. It’s not just sex I’m after. In my view, he’s perfect, which is the problem. Even what I think are his flaws are charming. Danger danger danger. But ultimately, I have no link to him. He hasn’t personally made me feel anything. He hasn’t intended to—or this is what I’m in denial about every time my bodymind reacts first—really make me feel things. Every time I watch his stories or read his posts I look or scan for synchronicities hoping to feel the illusion that he likes me back. I don’t know what to do with this. I don’t think I’ll experience real heartbreak when he inevitably gets taken off the market probably in 2027. I don’t know. I’ll hopefully be in QC by that time and find maybe Jeffrey (if he ever apologizes to me) or another guy. And then I’ll never tell them about my Vico phase. Too embarrassing. I mean, not him being Vico and all, but that I’m an idiot for allowing myself to get into a Mike cocktail again, just eroticizing and romanticizing the smoke of nothing. I guess I like figuring him out, what songs he chooses to go with his stories. I guess I like hearing him talk. UGH. I like unwrapping him. That’s it. He’s a novelty that my brain gloms onto because of severe heartbreak from Jeffrey. Wouldn’t it be weird though if someday in the future—if I ever choose to move to Pasig? or become related to his field—I could get a chance to meet him for real? Just a dream, I guess. Maybe I’ll be so natameme and unable to compose myself. For sure, he’s sick of people being starstruck and maybe wants to be treated like a normal person. I wonder, if he’s reading me right now—which is very unlikely—what he really thinks. I think it was the angel in his bad food post that made me think of Gelo. Or maybe the three pictures of stages. It’s like a fun 4 Pics 1 Word game. I can see why I’m addicted. It’s like a special language between us two, because to everyone else it’s innocuous. I hate that it’s unlikely, but I deny anyway. I keep feeling hope even though it’s unearned. Why would he really be here anyway, reading some schizo girl’s diaries? Every time I try to speculate about a gateway or link, I end up scrambling because there’s literally no way he could be interested in my private life. I’m not even that interesting. Unless they—the DECL department—really made a way to make me go viral in 2019. I think that’s how it could be spread. Even the Singapore Bisaya-speaking guy knew my writing, which I didn’t send anywhere but to Ma’am Lee. Why would he say that to me? I get glimpses of my reality being surreal and I still deny that I’m not famous in an underground way? I think I know how to come up with something beyond materiality and spirituality. I just have to stop thinking in binaries, which is the point of poststructuralism I think. I haven’t listened to Post Malone in my life, but now Vico’s posted a funny set of pics of the back of his head and now I’m kind of addicted to this song called “Circles.” It’s my type of music. 12:00AM: Finally finished my Otherwise Fellowship application. I realized I have 15 days or so to finish all my 3 projects this year. Four, if you count CW 200 work as 2. I basically have to complete CW 198 before 21 ends, start work on my novel Unreal Image as fast as humanly possible to complete it before Jan 1 as well as my critical essay, and make Prof. Kwe read it before submitting my grade on Jan 8, which is the deadline for grad submission. And there’s my optional but highly desirable side project for Young Creatives Challenge. I feel like I’ll really burn out after this year ends if I manage to make it. I just didn’t realize how much time I had left. I have literally 15 days left to do the heaviest work of my entire undergrad career. Why did I put this off? And I think I’m running out of Atomoxetine. I’m gonna be in trouble, unless I wizen up and actually start being disciplined. Which I’ve never really done before in my life. I’m gonna have to be content with writing shittily. BYE. THE HOMESTRETCH!! THE FINAL 15!!! MAKE IT COUNT!!! I have no idea but on Sunday, I had the distinct feeling that I was pressured to complete my work by Vico’s post on the bad food. So I responded with a public post about the Da Vinci article on his procrastination on FB. I dunno. There was a space between “a” and “joyful” (from my “completely spaced it” Santa repost on Bluesky and the reference to my first name and last name meaning “joy” and his first and last names being Italian) and the two emojis faintly reminded me of my own style. Now the Post Malone song and the “So I don’t take the blame” is really worsening my delusion. This is how an ideas of reference delusion starts and gets sustained. Even without his probable knowledge, I could be forming a parasocial attachment to what I think are his communications, which is terribly likely given the fact that schizo people really do have a weakness to think that people are sending them secret messages. But as long as I don’t contact him, I should be able to stay safe and have fun having my brain be tickled by this false love. It’s like a cut above a fictional love story I could self-insert but still a notch below real intimate love. What else do I have, though? I’m having fun with the illusion. I’m probably in denial about my infatuation. It’s not just sex I’m after. In my view, he’s perfect, which is the problem. Even what I think are his flaws are charming. Danger danger danger. But ultimately, I have no link to him. He hasn’t personally made me feel anything. He hasn’t intended to—or this is what I’m in denial about every time my bodymind reacts first—really make me feel things. Every time I watch his stories or read his posts I look or scan for synchronicities hoping to feel the illusion that he likes me back. I don’t know what to do with this. I don’t think I’ll experience real heartbreak when he inevitably gets taken off the market probably in 2027. I don’t know. I’ll hopefully be in QC by that time and find maybe Jeffrey (if he ever apologizes to me) or another guy. And then I’ll never tell them about my Vico phase. Too embarrassing. I mean, not him being Vico and all, but that I’m an idiot for allowing myself to get into a Mike cocktail again, just eroticizing and romanticizing the smoke of nothing. I guess I like figuring him out, what songs he chooses to go with his stories. I guess I like hearing him talk. UGH. I like unwrapping him. That’s it. He’s a novelty that my brain gloms onto because of severe heartbreak from Jeffrey. Wouldn’t it be weird though if someday in the future—if I ever choose to move to Pasig? or become related to his field—I could get a chance to meet him for real? Just a dream, I guess. Maybe I’ll be so natameme and unable to compose myself. For sure, he’s sick of people being starstruck and maybe wants to be treated like a normal person. I wonder, if he’s reading me right now—which is very unlikely—what he really thinks. I think it was the angel in his bad food post that made me think of Gelo. Or maybe the three pictures of stages. It’s like a fun 4 Pics 1 Word game. I can see why I’m addicted. It’s like a special language between us two, because to everyone else it’s innocuous. I hate that it’s unlikely, but I deny anyway. I keep feeling hope even though it’s unearned. Why would he really be here anyway, reading some schizo girl’s diaries? Every time I try to speculate about a gateway or link, I end up scrambling because there’s literally no way he could be interested in my private life. I’m not even that interesting. Unless they—the DECL department—really made a way to make me go viral in 2019. I think that’s how it could be spread. Even the Singapore Bisaya-speaking guy knew my writing, which I didn’t send anywhere but to Ma’am Lee. Why would he say that to me? I get glimpses of my reality being surreal and I still deny that I’m not famous in an underground way? I think I know how to come up with something beyond materiality and spirituality. I just have to stop thinking in binaries, which is the point of poststructuralism I think.