### Dreams 🧫 1. I forgot about my morning dreams but I fell asleep anyway mid-morning and had a make-out dream about Vico. It was so steamy because it was like he was trying to seduce me by tracing my arms with his fingers and I just had to collapse on him as he was sat down on a chair, I became too weak to resist. And then I had a really creepy dream about my grandmother (now dead) from my dad’s side where you could talk to her like a philosophical zombie but when she would respond was so unpredictable that it was like talking to a chaotic AI that you couldn’t really predict or control—you would have no inkling as to when she would be inclined to respond to you, for example. ### Sensations/Body Stuff 🫟 1. One thing I really hate about being on antipsychotics. Thinking is too hard. No thoughts entering my mind at all. It’s like I’m perpetually moving a boulder up a mountain, always straining to keep thoughts inside my head, because really, there’s almost none. ### Morning Pages ⚜️ 1:12PM: Energy management is the name of the game. I woke up really early, like 7AM, but I ended up spending close to 30 minutes planning the drawings to Unreal Image and only spending an hour reading Quarks before I got really tired and fell asleep for 1 hour even though I drank preworkout. It must be the tiredness carried over from yesterday’s hard workout—I set the speed up to 7 km/hour or 7 miles per hour (can’t tell which). I really have time and energy as my main enemies. How will I do this in the next 13 days as I battle the effects of my antipsychotics? Remember, rest is also productive in that you need to recover! You are not infinitely capable. You need to have downtime to replenish your stores. Bad luck currently that whatever hobby I start doesn’t seem to give me rest—whether movies or music. I need to find another rest and relaxation method that will truly replenish me. And not which takes energy like exercise. At 2PMish I decided to take an impromptu rest day where I do everything I want to do as I please—read various books I’ve been meaning to, not exercise, and just experiment with BOBOBEE and see all my past notes and marks on paper that are so chaotic as to be useless by now. New rule: you are allowed 2 off days per month where you have undirected carte blanche do anything you want—no exercise at all. I’m so proud of myself for turning a tragedy into a blessing in disguise!!! I managed to work out every day of the week since March 9 and it really locked me into September 2025-level discipline. Thank God!!! On the other hand, I can feel myself being very anxious about the possibility that I am not hacked, but that I really had to experience a psychotic episode to know that virtual reality is indeed strong enough to have effects on physical reality. It doesn’t actually matter if I’m hacked or not, only that the only conceivable proof that I am being paired with Vico at least is that I appeared to follow him out of the blue for no reason—I couldn’t have clicked on that follow button accidentally, and I know this to my bones. No iteration of me could have accidentally clicked the follow button and not noticed it at all. So that must mean I am connected to Vico somehow, and that one other soul knows about my infatuation for him. I would really love for someone to relieve my anxiety again about this, because at this point, it’s like a hole boring into my soul right now. I know I’ve received so many blessed signs already, but it couldn’t hurt to have at least a definitive one after “cute & ungovernable.” I just feel very silent right now, as in, people have been oddly silent right now since my psychotic/manic episode happened, and I’m not sure if it’s because my antipsychotics have dialed things down, or that I’m really being left behind and abandoned. That’s it. I’m so scared of being abandoned, to be very frank. 2 days or so left to find out if Neil Clarke has accepted my ALL_GO for publication!! I hope it’s just 2 days. I’m so antsy for any update. I remember crying today because I really read Jeremiah 29 and it’s like God was subtweeting me in the 1st century, just waiting for the day I’d be born and then getting to read that passage… I don’t know if it’s a good thing, but that doing nothing is making me uncomfortable on an existential level. It’s more than boredom, it’s more than guilt, and it’s a quiet discomfort that goes along the lines of, “if I’m not doing anything productive I have to be a little pretentious to get somewhere greater with my intellect. It’s just so hard to get into the books I’ve been meaning to read given that I’ve had very little experience getting into and finishing a book. Especially a non-fiction one. Come to think of it, I don’t actually know if I’d done that ever. I’ve finished dozens of TV series passively, but never a non-fiction book…yet.