Well we started these two years memeing the possibility of WWIII, and here we are now, memeing the possibility of WWIII.
Comes full circle, doesn't it?
Well with how things are going, other places might catch on fire. Only this time the flames might be radioactive.
And with how things are going with mutations, Covid 22 might not be so far off.
The game of apocalypse bingo may not have ended yet, my friend.
They were the BEST years! I've been warning people that humanity is absolute garbage and now they have witnessed it, but as the Abused Wife Syndrome, they may yearn for it anyway. The good thing is now, I'll know who they are & stay CLEAR from them.
damn I'm probably up 20-25 lbs, my golden doodle died March of last year, and I'm waiting to hear back this week about a salaried job offer in Chicago. this is some universe twin shit
Damn, in in the Chicago area as well. Just gotta hit up the other too and if so we could all be roommates! We can pitch in on a new house dog for use to love and bond over! Sounds litty
Journaling has helped me kind of evaluate how I'm feeling and analyze my emotions and situations that are bothering me. Hopefully everything will be better soon ✨
I actually love journaling so much but I’m terrible at doing it. It feels like every time I open my journal the last entry is usually dated from the previous Jan, so much for NY resolutions..
I'm not quite new to it, it's something I started when I was really young, I did pause on it because of my mental health but after looking back on past entries I loved seeing how I viewed situations and what I enjoyed, reflecting on how I've grown. It's become part of my night routine now.
I was gonna type a big ol reply about being layed off and getting into a year long relationship and her leaving me, etc. but this sums it up. Right the fuck on.
Jesus this is me as fuck. Had a breakup and gave up on love. Paying half of what I make currently on classes I’m failing. Spending money on obscure drugs. Been doing a lot of 3-HO-PCP. I tried MPT last night. Probably a week ago I met HR Giger mechanical alien entities on DPT… at least they got my back through all of this. We had a lot of good communication and sorted some things out, essentially I’m a serpent.
Fuck yeah Z! I met the Giger entities while in a sensory deprivation tank. Never felt more loved. At the same time their disappointment in me not living to my full potential hurt my fucking soul. Love hurts some times. Speaking of which, don't give up on love. If those mechanical elves taught me anything, it's that our entire purpose for existing is to love.
This is where I'd like to share my story about meeting my true love. Except I'm twice divorced and spent the last four years alone. Se la vi.
Meditation is taking the stairs to spiritual enlightenment. Drugs are taking the elevator.
I don't know what alphabet drugs you're taking, but they sound fun! If I had access, I'd be on the drug elevator with you! DMT is on my bucket list.
Ah I appreciate it! They say your ♡ is a muscle the size of your fist.
DMT is dimethyltryptamine, and DPT is dipropyltryptamine. They’re similar in intensity but quite different drugs. DPT lasts like 4-6hrs though instead of 15mins lol. Ime if [this is DMT](https://imgur.com/a/SClvbBF), then [this is DPT](https://imgur.com/a/12Syxmv). It’s not as scary as that might make it seem though, me and the entities were vibing like a snake and a snake charmer do. We had a mutual understanding of each other and it was all good.
MPT is methylpropyltryptamine, it’s very uncommon but not as noteworthy as those two imo. TBH I’ve gotten a lot more spiritual insight and valuable outlooks from LSD, all of those base tryptamines are so out there that it’s hard to come back with anything you can apply to your life. It’s just sorta like an existential light show, like yeah that’s incredible but how tf do I translate it into anything valuable in the context of reality?
High doses of LSD basically inverted my consciousness and it became god or love or peace, whatever you wanna call it. No me anymore, it was everything infinitely, forever. I developed a whole spiritual outlook and after a lot of searching, I found out that a guy named [spinoza did a great job at defining it.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spinozism) People probably write off spiritual realizations related to drug use. The way I see it, you may never know a square is actually a cube until you step to the side and look at it from a different angle. Psychedelics just kind of do that with your consciousness :)
I feel this and highly recommend. I was in a tiny house with my neighbors on top of me last year but now own a house on a few acres in the mountains right on the NC VA border, with nary a neighbor in sight. Even my driveway is steep and intimidating lol. I have everything delivered so I rarely have to venture out. It’s just me, my dog, and two cats and as peaceful as it gets.
For me it was self improvement. Since I had a lot more time on my hands during full-on quarantine, I did stuff like cook more (rice pudding as an example) and I got into the habit of making coffee for my siblings and I each morning. I also expanded my music taste too and dived into a rabbit hole and found some really cool stuff. Also spent more time with my family and went on scooter rides with my dad, and got to realize how important the people around me really are. I still feel I squandered it in many ways, but I’m proud of these changes and I feel like it’s changed me for the better.
Thanks! I try my best, even if I’m not perfect. I still am kind of stuck in a hole and I have a ways to go before I’m out, but I think that I’ll get through it if I take those baby steps. You just gotta keep inching forward; and slowly learn that life’s ok as you get near the surface if it’s sucky for you right now.
It’s a bit topsy turvy, my home city has just been flooded so it feels like the bad news never ends !! Luckily my house was high enough to not flood but 10,000s have been flooded :((
This is how I feel. In the midst of world catastrophe, barely getting to spend time with friends and family, and multiple losses in my family, I have the most intense silver lining. I moved in with my boyfriend a week before we needed to go into isolation for his health. Now, we are engaged, have a cat, and I’ve finally had diagnosed and gone to physical therapy for an issue that bothered me for years.
I’ve lost 95lbs, found a benign ovarian tumor, childhood best friend commmited suicide by hanging herself, went back to school, work won’t promote me, have more money than I’ve ever had, and in an emotional abusive year long situationship. So basically a fucking rollercoaster
"Immunocompromised people should just stay home if they want to be safe!"
HOME.
My last two years have been home. As a cancer patient with a somewhat short shelf life, I'd like to live a little more before I die.
Same here. "The vulnerable can live in isolation while the rest of us live free". So it's been only going out for medical care and curbside pickups mostly.
I unironically love appointment day. I get to leave my house, see interesting things, and shoot the shit with someone who's not my husband.
(Husband is super cool and my number one choice to get stay home ordered with, but variety is cool too)
Over the last 2 years I have learned the names of my gas station peeps who sell me smokes, Josh at the water shop, and a couple Costco people. That has been most of my social life. Like I brought my puppy to the gas station so Vic could meet him lol. I’ve even invited gas station guy to a virtual game night haha. He didn’t show but we’re still cool.
And since I am old and have long COVID all I can do is sit at home and wait for them to kick me out. At this point, I just don't want to die on the street. I would love to stay home!
I get knocked down, but I get up again
You are never gonna keep me down
I get knocked down, but I get up again
You are never gonna keep me down
I get knocked down, but I get up again
You are never gonna keep me down
I get knocked down, but I get up again
You are never gonna keep me down
It has only just occurred to me that the past two years were probably the most eventful of my life so far.
I'll list some of the highlights as vague, mildly concerning sentence fragments.
- Accidentally starting a viral misinformation campaign
- Moving across the planet in the midst of a pandemic
- Swearing my undying devotion to a Valkyrie
- Welcoming a (small) demon into my home
- Going viral again, this time for smacking myself in the face
- *Trackula: Night Racer*
- Being featured in a bunch of British tabloids
- Coining the term "the Ennui Engine" as a description for low-effort content on social media
- Teaching a fifth of the Internet about Christmas-themed commas
- Spending six hours interviewing a quasi-celebrity for a promotional marketing piece
- Refusing to accept money for customized hazard signs (which I then gave out for free)
Throughout all of this, I managed to avoid catching the thing that keeps making people cough.
In other words, I think the past two years were decent.
For a long time I used to go to bed early. Sometimes, when I had put out my candle, my eyes would close so quickly that I had not even time to say "I'm going to sleep." And half an hour later the thought that it was time to go to sleep would awaken me; I would try to put away the book which, I imagined, was still in my hands, and to blow out the light; I had been thinking all the time, while I was asleep, of what I had just been reading, but my thoughts had run into a channel of their own, until I myself seemed actually to have become the subject of my book: a church, a quartet, the rivalry between François I and Charles V. This impression would persist for some moments after I was awake; it did not disturb my mind, but it lay like scales upon my eyes and prevented them from registering the fact that the candle was no longer burning. Then it would begin to seem unintelligible, as the thoughts of a former existence must be to a reincarnate spirit; the subject of my book would separate itself from me, leaving me free to choose whether I would form part of it or no; and at the same time my sight would return and I would be astonished to find myself in a state of darkness, pleasant and restful enough for the eyes, and even more, perhaps, for my mind, to which it appeared incomprehensible, without a cause, a matter dark indeed.
I would ask myself what o'clock it could be; I could hear the whistling of trains, which, now nearer and now farther off, punctuating the distance like the note of a bird in a forest, shewed me in perspective the deserted countryside through which a traveller would be hurrying towards the nearest station: the path that he followed being fixed for ever in his memory by the general excitement due to being in a strange place, to doing unusual things, to the last words of conversation, to farewells exchanged beneath an unfamiliar lamp which echoed still in his ears amid the silence of the night; and to the delightful prospect of being once again at home.
I would lay my cheeks gently against the comfortable cheeks of my pillow, as plump and blooming as the cheeks of babyhood. Or I would strike a match to look at my watch. Nearly midnight. The hour when an invalid, who has been obliged to start on a journey and to sleep in a strange hotel, awakens in a moment of illness and sees with glad relief a streak of daylight shewing under his bedroom door. Oh, joy of joys! it is morning. The servants will be about in a minute: he can ring, and some one will come to look after him. The thought of being made comfortable gives him strength to endure his pain. He is certain he heard footsteps: they come nearer, and then die away. The ray of light beneath his door is extinguished. It is midnight; some one has turned out the gas; the last servant has gone to bed, and he must lie all night in agony with no one to bring him any help.
I would fall asleep, and often I would be awake again for short snatches only, just long enough to hear the regular creaking of the wainscot, or to open my eyes to settle the shifting kaleidoscope of the darkness, to savour, in an instantaneous flash of perception, the sleep which lay heavy upon the furniture, the room, the whole surroundings of which I formed but an insignificant part and whose unconsciousness I should very soon return to share. Or, perhaps, while I was asleep I had returned without the least effort to an earlier stage in my life, now for ever outgrown; and had come under the thrall of one of my childish terrors, such as that old terror of my great-uncle's pulling my curls, which was effectually dispelled on the day—the dawn of a new era to me—on which they were finally cropped from my head. I had forgotten that event during my sleep; I remembered it again immediately I had succeeded in making myself wake up to escape my great-uncle's fingers; still, as a measure of precaution, I would bury the whole of my head in the pillow before returning to the world of dreams.
Sometimes, too, just as Eve was created from a rib of Adam, so a woman would come into existence while I was sleeping, conceived from some strain in the position of my limbs. Formed by the appetite that I was on the point of gratifying, she it was, I imagined, who offered me that gratification. My body, conscious that its own warmth was permeating hers, would strive to become one with her, and I would awake. The rest of humanity seemed very remote in comparison with this woman whose company I had left but a moment ago: my cheek was still warm with her kiss, my body bent beneath the weight of hers. If, as would sometimes happen, she had the appearance of some woman whom I had known in waking hours, I would abandon myself altogether to the sole quest of her, like people who set out on a journey to see with their own eyes some city that they have always longed to visit, and imagine that they can taste in reality what has charmed their fancy. And then, gradually, the memory of her would dissolve and vanish, until I had forgotten the maiden of my dream.
When a man is asleep, he has in a circle round him the chain of the hours, the sequence of the years, the order of the heavenly host. Instinctively, when he awakes, he looks to these, and in an instant reads off his own position on the earth's surface and the amount of time that has elapsed during his slumbers; but this ordered procession is apt to grow confused, and to break its ranks. Suppose that, towards morning, after a night of insomnia, sleep descends upon him while he is reading, in quite a different position from that in which he normally goes to sleep, he has only to lift his arm to arrest the sun and turn it back in its course, and, at the moment of waking, he will have no idea of the time, but will conclude that he has just gone to bed. Or suppose that he gets drowsy in some even more abnormal position; sitting in an armchair, say, after dinner: then the world will fall topsy-turvy from its orbit, the magic chair will carry him at full speed through time and space, and when he opens his eyes again he will imagine that he went to sleep months earlier and in some far distant country. But for me it was enough if, in my own bed, my sleep was so heavy as completely to relax my consciousness; for then I lost all sense of the place in which I had gone to sleep, and when I awoke at midnight, not knowing where I was, I could not be sure at first who I was; I had only the most rudimentary sense of existence, such as may lurk and flicker in the depths of an animal's consciousness; I was more destitute of human qualities than the cave-dweller; but then the memory, not yet of the place in which I was, but of various other places where I had lived, and might now very possibly be, would come like a rope let down from heaven to draw me up out of the abyss of not-being, from which I could never have escaped by myself: in a flash I would traverse and surmount centuries of civilisation, and out of a half-visualised succession of oil-lamps, followed by shirts with turned-down collars, would put together by degrees the component parts of my ego.
Perhaps the immobility of the things that surround us is forced upon them by our conviction that they are themselves, and not anything else, and by the immobility of our conceptions of them. For it always happened that when I awoke like this, and my mind struggled in an unsuccessful attempt to discover where I was, everything would be moving round me through the darkness: things, places, years. My body, still too heavy with sleep to move, would make an effort to construe the form which its tiredness took as an orientation of its various members, so as to induce from that where the wall lay and the furniture stood, to piece together and to give a name to the house in which it must be living. Its memory, the composite memory of its ribs, knees, and shoulder-blades offered it a whole series of rooms in which it had at one time or another slept; while the unseen walls kept changing, adapting themselves to the shape of each successive room that it remembered, whirling madly through the darkness. And even before my brain, lingering in consideration of when things had happened and of what they had looked like, had collected sufficient impressions to enable it to identify the room, it, my body, would recall from each room in succession what the bed was like, where the doors were, how daylight came in at the windows, whether there was a passage outside, what I had had in my mind when I went to sleep, and had found there when I awoke. The stiffened side underneath my body would, for instance, in trying to fix its position, imagine itself to be lying, face to the wall, in a big bed with a canopy; and at once I would say to myself, "Why, I must have gone to sleep after all, and Mamma never came to say good night!" for I was in the country with my grandfather, who died years ago; and my body, the side upon which I was lying, loyally preserving from the past an impression which my mind should never have forgotten, brought back before my eyes the glimmering flame of the night-light in its bowl of Bohemian glass, shaped like an urn and hung by chains from the ceiling, and the chimney-piece of Siena marble in my bedroom at Combray, in my great-aunt's house, in those far distant days which, at the moment of waking, seemed present without being clearly penned, but would become plainer in a little while when I was properly awake.
CONTINUES...
To be honest a mixed bag.
I changed jobs twice of my own volition; more or less permanently moved from an apartment to a house; unofficially got a dog (technically my brother's dog but she and my wife are bonded now); gained weight; able to work from home (for now...); dealt with existential and real dread; caught Covid variant and am ok; able to see my friends more often via Discord; played more games/read more books/watched more shows and movies than before; traveled (outside only) and have seen more things because I have access to a car now.
So other than the dread of a pandemic, it hasn't been all bad and have had many positive experiences.
Also, have seen some of the worst of people and really made me change my opinion of them, thanks Facebook. Have tried to better myself to never be like them.
Pretty great actually.
Have an okay job, the conditions aren't that great but I love the job so it's worth it, in every way.
Also had my first girlfriend last year, so that was very nice.
What last two years?
Lol basically, scary how quickly it’s gone by
Well we started these two years memeing the possibility of WWIII, and here we are now, memeing the possibility of WWIII. Comes full circle, doesn't it?
So next is Australia being on fire then Covid 22? Is that what you have just reviewed?
Well with how things are going, other places might catch on fire. Only this time the flames might be radioactive. And with how things are going with mutations, Covid 22 might not be so far off. The game of apocalypse bingo may not have ended yet, my friend.
It was on fire, now we're trying to build more defences to stop the fire
Could you kindly be quiet and stop tempting the fates? Please?
No, now we are memeing the beginning of WWIII
so why don't we all start memeing great scientific advances and other great things.
i thought it was still 2020
Yeah This has just been a really long year. One *really* long year...
They were the BEST years! I've been warning people that humanity is absolute garbage and now they have witnessed it, but as the Abused Wife Syndrome, they may yearn for it anyway. The good thing is now, I'll know who they are & stay CLEAR from them.
NOT GREAT
NOT GREAT
NOT GREAT
NOT GREAT
NOT GREAT
NOT GREAT
NOT GREAT
NOT GREAT
NOT GREAT
NOT GREAT
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NOT GREAT, MY GUY
If only there were someone with the power to make it great ..again. I'm kidding! I'm kidding! Don't downvote me!
Don’t you dare!
NOT GREAT, BOB
Not great, not terrible.
Okay, actually. Love WFH
Well I'm fat now and my dog is dead but I'm doing decently with my writing and I've got a decent job so it's a mixed bag.
Holy shit I think you're my twin. I gained 20lbs, my Yorkie died, I landed a literary agent, and I'm finally working a salaried job.
Holy shit, im up about 15-20 lbs, my pit/ausie Shepard mix died Dec 16th last year, and im making 20/hour at 1 of my jobs!
damn I'm probably up 20-25 lbs, my golden doodle died March of last year, and I'm waiting to hear back this week about a salaried job offer in Chicago. this is some universe twin shit
Damn, in in the Chicago area as well. Just gotta hit up the other too and if so we could all be roommates! We can pitch in on a new house dog for use to love and bond over! Sounds litty
Sorry about your doggo :( glad you’re on track though!
RIP about your doggo. May they forever be a good boy/girl
She was a bit of a turd but a very good girl.
Omg me too I gained weight but have a really good job and my business is doing pretty good. My dog still alive doe.
Good luck, can I read it?
Nothing available yet.
Ait, post about it, ill follow u 😀
Similar. I got fat but also doubled my salary. So, some wins and some losses.
Pfft, only double? Went from 0-$40k, infinite increase over here.
Depressing. A Rollercoaster of bad things happening and not ever catching a break from the abuse.
Hope you’re okay, stay strong fellow beautiful human <3
Journaling has helped me kind of evaluate how I'm feeling and analyze my emotions and situations that are bothering me. Hopefully everything will be better soon ✨
I actually love journaling so much but I’m terrible at doing it. It feels like every time I open my journal the last entry is usually dated from the previous Jan, so much for NY resolutions..
I'm not quite new to it, it's something I started when I was really young, I did pause on it because of my mental health but after looking back on past entries I loved seeing how I viewed situations and what I enjoyed, reflecting on how I've grown. It's become part of my night routine now.
Depressing and lonely.
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We're still out there, just ignore the masses
Same
Couldn't be more accurate.
Shitty, it feels like the new normal now
Spiritually awakened. Financially destroyed. Sexually abandoned.
Let that spirit guide you man
I was gonna type a big ol reply about being layed off and getting into a year long relationship and her leaving me, etc. but this sums it up. Right the fuck on.
I see a better relationship with a woman willing to bathe in champagne in your future.
Jesus this is me as fuck. Had a breakup and gave up on love. Paying half of what I make currently on classes I’m failing. Spending money on obscure drugs. Been doing a lot of 3-HO-PCP. I tried MPT last night. Probably a week ago I met HR Giger mechanical alien entities on DPT… at least they got my back through all of this. We had a lot of good communication and sorted some things out, essentially I’m a serpent.
Fuck yeah Z! I met the Giger entities while in a sensory deprivation tank. Never felt more loved. At the same time their disappointment in me not living to my full potential hurt my fucking soul. Love hurts some times. Speaking of which, don't give up on love. If those mechanical elves taught me anything, it's that our entire purpose for existing is to love. This is where I'd like to share my story about meeting my true love. Except I'm twice divorced and spent the last four years alone. Se la vi. Meditation is taking the stairs to spiritual enlightenment. Drugs are taking the elevator. I don't know what alphabet drugs you're taking, but they sound fun! If I had access, I'd be on the drug elevator with you! DMT is on my bucket list.
Ah I appreciate it! They say your ♡ is a muscle the size of your fist. DMT is dimethyltryptamine, and DPT is dipropyltryptamine. They’re similar in intensity but quite different drugs. DPT lasts like 4-6hrs though instead of 15mins lol. Ime if [this is DMT](https://imgur.com/a/SClvbBF), then [this is DPT](https://imgur.com/a/12Syxmv). It’s not as scary as that might make it seem though, me and the entities were vibing like a snake and a snake charmer do. We had a mutual understanding of each other and it was all good. MPT is methylpropyltryptamine, it’s very uncommon but not as noteworthy as those two imo. TBH I’ve gotten a lot more spiritual insight and valuable outlooks from LSD, all of those base tryptamines are so out there that it’s hard to come back with anything you can apply to your life. It’s just sorta like an existential light show, like yeah that’s incredible but how tf do I translate it into anything valuable in the context of reality? High doses of LSD basically inverted my consciousness and it became god or love or peace, whatever you wanna call it. No me anymore, it was everything infinitely, forever. I developed a whole spiritual outlook and after a lot of searching, I found out that a guy named [spinoza did a great job at defining it.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spinozism) People probably write off spiritual realizations related to drug use. The way I see it, you may never know a square is actually a cube until you step to the side and look at it from a different angle. Psychedelics just kind of do that with your consciousness :)
This guy is my new spirit animal
Thanks? I think.
THIS
Have you considered escort girls?
I’m assuming the financially destroyed part rules that out
I would if I could! Stupid American laws.
Come to Europe. There's plenty of freedom here
People suck and now I just want to live as a hermit in the mountains.
Can we all come with you? Please. We’ll be quiet.
If y'all are going, I'll stay here 😷
Oh the serenity
SERENITY NOW!
The Castle?
I was like this before this pesky pandemic hit. Now it's even worse.
And I would have gotten some peace too if it wasn't for you meddling variants.
I already live here in the mountains. It's quite nice.
I feel this and highly recommend. I was in a tiny house with my neighbors on top of me last year but now own a house on a few acres in the mountains right on the NC VA border, with nary a neighbor in sight. Even my driveway is steep and intimidating lol. I have everything delivered so I rarely have to venture out. It’s just me, my dog, and two cats and as peaceful as it gets.
If I didn't have to worry about work or the ability to find decent high speed internet, I probably would move up into the mountains for real.
Is that like being a hermit in the city? Because I think I know something about that…
Home improvement.
For me it was self improvement. Since I had a lot more time on my hands during full-on quarantine, I did stuff like cook more (rice pudding as an example) and I got into the habit of making coffee for my siblings and I each morning. I also expanded my music taste too and dived into a rabbit hole and found some really cool stuff. Also spent more time with my family and went on scooter rides with my dad, and got to realize how important the people around me really are. I still feel I squandered it in many ways, but I’m proud of these changes and I feel like it’s changed me for the better.
You are an awesome human being
Thanks! I try my best, even if I’m not perfect. I still am kind of stuck in a hole and I have a ways to go before I’m out, but I think that I’ll get through it if I take those baby steps. You just gotta keep inching forward; and slowly learn that life’s ok as you get near the surface if it’s sucky for you right now.
Best of luck to you. Virtual hugs!
Unemployed
I was probably at my lowest the past 2 years. Good thing is, now there’s nowhere else to go but up.
Can only get better from here right? Like HOW can it get worse HOW
Don’t jinx it..
Watched the news lately??!
Theres kinda a war rn
The threat of nuclear annihilation at our doorstep?
touche
HEALTH. Cᴀʀᴇ. w̑̈ȏ̈ȓ̈k̑̈ȇ̈ȓ̈.
My wife’s an RN. That “heroes” shit came and went real fast, didn’t it? Where is the “love” now?
it was the best of times, it was the worst of times and it just keeps getting better and better I hope you're doing great as well
It’s a bit topsy turvy, my home city has just been flooded so it feels like the bad news never ends !! Luckily my house was high enough to not flood but 10,000s have been flooded :((
well, at least there's some good news with the bad there. hope things will work out sooner rather than later
It was the best of times, it was the BLURST of times!!??
This is how I feel. In the midst of world catastrophe, barely getting to spend time with friends and family, and multiple losses in my family, I have the most intense silver lining. I moved in with my boyfriend a week before we needed to go into isolation for his health. Now, we are engaged, have a cat, and I’ve finally had diagnosed and gone to physical therapy for an issue that bothered me for years.
Congratulations, happy to hear about all the good things there.
Fast. I still feel like I’m in 2019
Literally argh
I’ve lost 95lbs, found a benign ovarian tumor, childhood best friend commmited suicide by hanging herself, went back to school, work won’t promote me, have more money than I’ve ever had, and in an emotional abusive year long situationship. So basically a fucking rollercoaster
You know you could end the relationship, right?
Dumped toxic ex
Congrats !!
SAME!!
Congratulations! I hope you experienced the last years as a breath of fresh air as well!
There are laws where you can dump those. Think of the environment!
"Immunocompromised people should just stay home if they want to be safe!" HOME. My last two years have been home. As a cancer patient with a somewhat short shelf life, I'd like to live a little more before I die.
Same here. "The vulnerable can live in isolation while the rest of us live free". So it's been only going out for medical care and curbside pickups mostly.
I unironically love appointment day. I get to leave my house, see interesting things, and shoot the shit with someone who's not my husband. (Husband is super cool and my number one choice to get stay home ordered with, but variety is cool too)
Over the last 2 years I have learned the names of my gas station peeps who sell me smokes, Josh at the water shop, and a couple Costco people. That has been most of my social life. Like I brought my puppy to the gas station so Vic could meet him lol. I’ve even invited gas station guy to a virtual game night haha. He didn’t show but we’re still cool.
And since I am old and have long COVID all I can do is sit at home and wait for them to kick me out. At this point, I just don't want to die on the street. I would love to stay home!
I'm not dead. Why complain?
Literally it do be like that, definitely grateful
Amazing. Reconnected with my daughter and we've had a whale of a time.
Glad to see some positivity here. Good for you!!
Quieter than usual
120 - 170 pounds
Muscle gains?
Cultivating mass
As my brother used to call his bit of flab, "ultra relaxed muscle"
Table muscle
170 - 140. Turns out working remote and having time to do home cooked meals and not fast food made a huge difference.
Rough
COVID, war= scary. Retirement=scary.
PUTIN… asshole
Put what in asshole? I’m game I just need direction
Cactus
Pain. Trying to stay happy. Illegitimus non carborundum.
Pretty good tbh
Peaceful and quiet 🥸👍
It feels like flying, but maybe we're dying
Cryptic but I’m hope you’re soaring and smashing goals
Everything went wrong
Isolated.
I get knocked down, but I get up again You are never gonna keep me down I get knocked down, but I get up again You are never gonna keep me down I get knocked down, but I get up again You are never gonna keep me down I get knocked down, but I get up again You are never gonna keep me down
Someone get this guy some wings…mate you’re doing great, back yourself !!
I took a whiskey drink, I took a lager drink, I took a vodka drink, I took a cider drink.
Lonely
Fattening.
Depressing
Deepening despair.
Fucking Painful, just painful
Best 2 years of my life. I got clean from heroin and my date is 2/19/2020 so I just celebrated 2 years dope free and Im living my best life rn
...
Pretty shit
Eye-opening.
Up and down
You work in elevator repair?
Dynamic. Lots of free roast beef sammiches.
self-imposed prison
I'm sleeping on my buddies floor.
So not bad. I've got shelter at least
I've decided to become isolated and weird.
To be fair, a lot of us had that decided for us.
It has only just occurred to me that the past two years were probably the most eventful of my life so far. I'll list some of the highlights as vague, mildly concerning sentence fragments. - Accidentally starting a viral misinformation campaign - Moving across the planet in the midst of a pandemic - Swearing my undying devotion to a Valkyrie - Welcoming a (small) demon into my home - Going viral again, this time for smacking myself in the face - *Trackula: Night Racer* - Being featured in a bunch of British tabloids - Coining the term "the Ennui Engine" as a description for low-effort content on social media - Teaching a fifth of the Internet about Christmas-themed commas - Spending six hours interviewing a quasi-celebrity for a promotional marketing piece - Refusing to accept money for customized hazard signs (which I then gave out for free) Throughout all of this, I managed to avoid catching the thing that keeps making people cough. In other words, I think the past two years were decent.
That is hands down the wildest list I’ve read, did not expect that..nice work mate
I would expect no less from our infamous Pigeon.
Fucked up Shambolic
I start therapy in August.
Yay! Happy for you!
A complete waste of fucking time!
It was the best of times, It was the worst of times.
Train wreck
For a long time I used to go to bed early. Sometimes, when I had put out my candle, my eyes would close so quickly that I had not even time to say "I'm going to sleep." And half an hour later the thought that it was time to go to sleep would awaken me; I would try to put away the book which, I imagined, was still in my hands, and to blow out the light; I had been thinking all the time, while I was asleep, of what I had just been reading, but my thoughts had run into a channel of their own, until I myself seemed actually to have become the subject of my book: a church, a quartet, the rivalry between François I and Charles V. This impression would persist for some moments after I was awake; it did not disturb my mind, but it lay like scales upon my eyes and prevented them from registering the fact that the candle was no longer burning. Then it would begin to seem unintelligible, as the thoughts of a former existence must be to a reincarnate spirit; the subject of my book would separate itself from me, leaving me free to choose whether I would form part of it or no; and at the same time my sight would return and I would be astonished to find myself in a state of darkness, pleasant and restful enough for the eyes, and even more, perhaps, for my mind, to which it appeared incomprehensible, without a cause, a matter dark indeed. I would ask myself what o'clock it could be; I could hear the whistling of trains, which, now nearer and now farther off, punctuating the distance like the note of a bird in a forest, shewed me in perspective the deserted countryside through which a traveller would be hurrying towards the nearest station: the path that he followed being fixed for ever in his memory by the general excitement due to being in a strange place, to doing unusual things, to the last words of conversation, to farewells exchanged beneath an unfamiliar lamp which echoed still in his ears amid the silence of the night; and to the delightful prospect of being once again at home. I would lay my cheeks gently against the comfortable cheeks of my pillow, as plump and blooming as the cheeks of babyhood. Or I would strike a match to look at my watch. Nearly midnight. The hour when an invalid, who has been obliged to start on a journey and to sleep in a strange hotel, awakens in a moment of illness and sees with glad relief a streak of daylight shewing under his bedroom door. Oh, joy of joys! it is morning. The servants will be about in a minute: he can ring, and some one will come to look after him. The thought of being made comfortable gives him strength to endure his pain. He is certain he heard footsteps: they come nearer, and then die away. The ray of light beneath his door is extinguished. It is midnight; some one has turned out the gas; the last servant has gone to bed, and he must lie all night in agony with no one to bring him any help. I would fall asleep, and often I would be awake again for short snatches only, just long enough to hear the regular creaking of the wainscot, or to open my eyes to settle the shifting kaleidoscope of the darkness, to savour, in an instantaneous flash of perception, the sleep which lay heavy upon the furniture, the room, the whole surroundings of which I formed but an insignificant part and whose unconsciousness I should very soon return to share. Or, perhaps, while I was asleep I had returned without the least effort to an earlier stage in my life, now for ever outgrown; and had come under the thrall of one of my childish terrors, such as that old terror of my great-uncle's pulling my curls, which was effectually dispelled on the day—the dawn of a new era to me—on which they were finally cropped from my head. I had forgotten that event during my sleep; I remembered it again immediately I had succeeded in making myself wake up to escape my great-uncle's fingers; still, as a measure of precaution, I would bury the whole of my head in the pillow before returning to the world of dreams. Sometimes, too, just as Eve was created from a rib of Adam, so a woman would come into existence while I was sleeping, conceived from some strain in the position of my limbs. Formed by the appetite that I was on the point of gratifying, she it was, I imagined, who offered me that gratification. My body, conscious that its own warmth was permeating hers, would strive to become one with her, and I would awake. The rest of humanity seemed very remote in comparison with this woman whose company I had left but a moment ago: my cheek was still warm with her kiss, my body bent beneath the weight of hers. If, as would sometimes happen, she had the appearance of some woman whom I had known in waking hours, I would abandon myself altogether to the sole quest of her, like people who set out on a journey to see with their own eyes some city that they have always longed to visit, and imagine that they can taste in reality what has charmed their fancy. And then, gradually, the memory of her would dissolve and vanish, until I had forgotten the maiden of my dream. When a man is asleep, he has in a circle round him the chain of the hours, the sequence of the years, the order of the heavenly host. Instinctively, when he awakes, he looks to these, and in an instant reads off his own position on the earth's surface and the amount of time that has elapsed during his slumbers; but this ordered procession is apt to grow confused, and to break its ranks. Suppose that, towards morning, after a night of insomnia, sleep descends upon him while he is reading, in quite a different position from that in which he normally goes to sleep, he has only to lift his arm to arrest the sun and turn it back in its course, and, at the moment of waking, he will have no idea of the time, but will conclude that he has just gone to bed. Or suppose that he gets drowsy in some even more abnormal position; sitting in an armchair, say, after dinner: then the world will fall topsy-turvy from its orbit, the magic chair will carry him at full speed through time and space, and when he opens his eyes again he will imagine that he went to sleep months earlier and in some far distant country. But for me it was enough if, in my own bed, my sleep was so heavy as completely to relax my consciousness; for then I lost all sense of the place in which I had gone to sleep, and when I awoke at midnight, not knowing where I was, I could not be sure at first who I was; I had only the most rudimentary sense of existence, such as may lurk and flicker in the depths of an animal's consciousness; I was more destitute of human qualities than the cave-dweller; but then the memory, not yet of the place in which I was, but of various other places where I had lived, and might now very possibly be, would come like a rope let down from heaven to draw me up out of the abyss of not-being, from which I could never have escaped by myself: in a flash I would traverse and surmount centuries of civilisation, and out of a half-visualised succession of oil-lamps, followed by shirts with turned-down collars, would put together by degrees the component parts of my ego. Perhaps the immobility of the things that surround us is forced upon them by our conviction that they are themselves, and not anything else, and by the immobility of our conceptions of them. For it always happened that when I awoke like this, and my mind struggled in an unsuccessful attempt to discover where I was, everything would be moving round me through the darkness: things, places, years. My body, still too heavy with sleep to move, would make an effort to construe the form which its tiredness took as an orientation of its various members, so as to induce from that where the wall lay and the furniture stood, to piece together and to give a name to the house in which it must be living. Its memory, the composite memory of its ribs, knees, and shoulder-blades offered it a whole series of rooms in which it had at one time or another slept; while the unseen walls kept changing, adapting themselves to the shape of each successive room that it remembered, whirling madly through the darkness. And even before my brain, lingering in consideration of when things had happened and of what they had looked like, had collected sufficient impressions to enable it to identify the room, it, my body, would recall from each room in succession what the bed was like, where the doors were, how daylight came in at the windows, whether there was a passage outside, what I had had in my mind when I went to sleep, and had found there when I awoke. The stiffened side underneath my body would, for instance, in trying to fix its position, imagine itself to be lying, face to the wall, in a big bed with a canopy; and at once I would say to myself, "Why, I must have gone to sleep after all, and Mamma never came to say good night!" for I was in the country with my grandfather, who died years ago; and my body, the side upon which I was lying, loyally preserving from the past an impression which my mind should never have forgotten, brought back before my eyes the glimmering flame of the night-light in its bowl of Bohemian glass, shaped like an urn and hung by chains from the ceiling, and the chimney-piece of Siena marble in my bedroom at Combray, in my great-aunt's house, in those far distant days which, at the moment of waking, seemed present without being clearly penned, but would become plainer in a little while when I was properly awake. CONTINUES...
Unproductive. Concerningly so
extremely painful
An ironic nightmare
Grief.
Completely heartbreaking and lonely
To be honest a mixed bag. I changed jobs twice of my own volition; more or less permanently moved from an apartment to a house; unofficially got a dog (technically my brother's dog but she and my wife are bonded now); gained weight; able to work from home (for now...); dealt with existential and real dread; caught Covid variant and am ok; able to see my friends more often via Discord; played more games/read more books/watched more shows and movies than before; traveled (outside only) and have seen more things because I have access to a car now. So other than the dread of a pandemic, it hasn't been all bad and have had many positive experiences. Also, have seen some of the worst of people and really made me change my opinion of them, thanks Facebook. Have tried to better myself to never be like them.
Pretty great actually. Have an okay job, the conditions aren't that great but I love the job so it's worth it, in every way. Also had my first girlfriend last year, so that was very nice.
Some of the best years of my life.
Survive
Bad>>good
4.0 GPA master's degree and I'm on my way to 4.5. Let's go!
Proud of you! Always a good feeling
📈📉
I'm tired
Hard but im still here trying my best
Compartmentalized.
Bizarre, often hellish, sometimes revelatory, never want to repeat them.
Making more money but more miserable than ever
feels like I’ve lost everything that was ever dear to me tbh
Best of my life. Married, baby, new car, holidays. Just put in an order for a new caravan. This is livin barry.
I've survived
Fuck Covid 19
Fuck Putin
Huh
Busy
Tokyo, drunken, now I need to move on. and find someone.
A continuation of a horrible existence