I never thought I'd see the day when my work life was a net source of self-esteem and my social life was a net source of self-hate. I've said it before, but it's just getting truer and truer.

Doing another 3 hours of edits to monthly annotation reviews sounds great, borderline fun. I get to look at foreign restaurants and correct blatant errors without feeling like a piece of shit for it.

Trying to rebuild a "social media presence" so I can convince people to read my comic---i.e., "fight through 15 years of self-loathing and pariah feels, in a culture that will gut you at the first sign of heresy"--makes me kinda want to dry up and disappear forever.

I'm definitely getting those "Final Age" feels. Between the utter death of my libido, the loss of THREE of what I thought were my best friends, moving away from the few friends I had left (and still wonder daily if I'm not secretly annoying and they won't tell me, because THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED with Transliminal), the lack of creative/psychedelic outlets, and everything locking me into an utterly mundane mindnet...

I kinda feel like it's just all over, and Parallax is less a creative outlet than an advanced form of denial. And so is this. And what's waiting for me is a beautiful house... with a beautiful wife... and maybe a large automobile. Which isn't bad, but it's not me, and it'd be turning away from everything I've longed for my whole life.

Maybe it's time to stop pretending and become an Earth Person. Any signal reception I had from anywhere else has just faded away. Can I please just wrap things up already?