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Having (undiagnosed) ADHD and working in an office building is like living in a first person RPG.
I pass by an interactable object and my eyes widen and I focus on it as I pass by just in case the player decides to interact with it.
People in the hallway are having conversations you can overhear to learn more about the lore of the setting (what issues and trends are currently affecting the phone queues).
Vending Machine
The Ominous Fridge
I know, I KNOW I have to read Beyond Repair. I'm not a huge fanfic reading person but I know that every Spamtenna person I see sings it's praises. I have it open in another tab, ready to rock.
But the problem is that I think I want to write something and I don't want to accidentally absorb the genius that I know will be Beyond Repair until I've gotten my own thoughts out. But my energy has been absolutely garbage lately to try to compile my thoughts together and decide if I'm doing a multichapter thing or a lengthy one shot. I haven't written for none RP purposes in a long while, buh.
Things I want to animate (despite having no idea how to not the range of illustrative ability to be able to make stills let alone animations) from my commute to work this morning:
Pathetic by Blame Candy as a Spamtenna song
Are we Having Fun Yet? by Negative 25 as either a Spamtenna song, or as a song for Kris, I have conflicting mental images that work for both.
Dead Man by Self as a general Secret Boss Deltarune son
Vapin' in Vegas by Wolves of Glendale as a Spamton song
BMX Terminator by Troldhaugen as a Jevil song
You see my dilemma
Going from playing ISAT to Deltarune leaves a man completely normal and not at all emotionally haywire.
I can only play so many games where friendship and abandonment and fear of the future are central themes without needing to bodily wail.
You see me intelligent, but I am confused.
You see me cheery, but my heart drowns in a deep sea.
You see me orderly, but I am chaos.
I wear this mask with practiced ease,
And hide myself in fear.
It covers my face and shields my beauty,
Leaving me a shell of fraudulent contempt.
So I scream, but you don’t hear.
I stay lifeless and apathetic.
You see me strong, but I am weak.
You see me brave, yet I hesitate.
You don’t see me, I wear a mask.
I don't think you had a favorite color until I one day said that I associated the color green with you and gave you a thrift store fountain pen with a crackled green body. All of a sudden you defaulted to green. You would find green clothes, or choose green icons in games. You wrapped the hilt of your longsword in green cording and want to paint your helmet screen green.
You are what I think of when I think of green, and I want to be surrounded by green.
It is important for growth to establish a baseline, So I should establish my line is baseless.
Though I stretch my roots, there is no soil for purchase. Left in the sun, I fear should I wither and die under the warmth I crave.
No hand forces my direction or guides my path, yet I feel the pressure of choice. When connection is my fuel, dare I disconnect to attain what I desire? Alone, untethered, could I thrive in the unknown? Or would my unmooring leave me to drift too far too fast?
When stability is an illusion, how can one know how to right themself? When support is handleless blade, should I hold tighter or plunge it further away; I cannot tell who is bleeding more, anyway.
It is important to establish a baseline. To be stable. To have support. To be tethered. To be certain. But when my line is shifting and drifting, I can be none of these. I wish so thoroughly to be.
I'm a home body who longed to explore Whose imagination and starry eyes saw an endless sea ahead. You were already sailing from shore to shore. Did i, like a siren, lead your ship to rocky waters? Did I destroy that which made you who you once were? A Nexus of sorrow and pity for that which I could not attain, did I suck you in?
