With the intention of reporting progress

I hope this is a short post. It's about some recent updates. There aren't many, but I hope they're significant. I was planning to write about other things, but today I realized something more unsettling: my last two posts before this one received over 100 views.

(>_･ ) ! ! !

...and from whom? Hello, dear stranger! I hope I haven't disturbed or saddened you too much. I mean it. Life is a real downer sometimes, and well, this is just a kind of diary.

⋆͛*͛ ͙͛ ⁑͛⋆͛*͛ ͙͛(๑•﹏•)⋆͛*͛ ͙͛ ⁑͛⋆͛*͛ ͙͛

𓏵

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𓏵

Speaking of diaries, I just remembered that this post was supposed to be about the latest updates. Well, these past few days have been relatively stable. I finally managed to meet with my final project reviewer, and they've already asked me to make the final formatting corrections to send it to the defense professors for review. From there, in theory, they'll start coordinating the final project defense. Do I feel bad about it? Yes. Honestly, it's not the best research topic. I also haven't approached it with the rigor I should have. I'm afraid it will be met with strong resistance, and rightly so. And no, I don't think I'm downplaying myself here. I'm aware that I haven't done it as I should have. I haven't researched the topic at all, only superficially, just to get by.

I'd like to say that at least I've put some effort into my own personal projects. That's not the case, but at least I haven't gotten completely stuck, which would be truly regrettable. However, it could be said that I've abandoned (I don't know if completely) the goal of the Protista Project. What I feared most has happened: the desire or fervor to continue has vanished, as with so many other things. Complexity scared me again! At least I managed to break free from the spiral of finishing the drawings for Illustration 31, so all that remains is to organize the names of the organelles, and then I'll be publishing it. I don't know if I'll do it soon. I would hope that this week (I think I already promised that before, just to empty words), if not next month, or maybe never. If I do publish it, will I continue with number 32? I don't know yet. I'd need to find genuine motivation again.

As for my written texts, they're all abandoned. Except for the one on amphibians. I haven't made much progress, but I'd say I've already reached the seventh species. I don't even know why I say that since I'll most likely abandon writing that amphibian guide as soon as something equally complicated to research comes along. Although for now, I still find joy in discovering seemingly unavailable information. And reading those very old research papers. I truly admire those researchers. They really had the determination to get things done.

(•˕ •マ.ᐟ

My health is stable. I've managed to improve my digestion. But lately I've been feeling pressure under my right rib, like under my liver. I know it could be a sign of gallstone attacks. Last week I had a particularly nasty feeling of pressure. I was nauseous all afternoon. And I felt the same way for the rest of the week. Now I have less intense episodes. But they're still there. I'm a little scared that something might happen to me. I still have some secret savings. I've been researching nice places to eat and get away from the pressure for a bit. This Friday, despite everything, I'm supposed to go for cheesecake and then pizza with fries. It makes me so angry and devastated that my gallbladder seems to have started failing just when I'm trying to regain some control over my life. But I've already promised myself I'll go to those restaurants as soon as possible. I'd really be devastated if something happened to me and, after the surgery, I wasn't able to enjoy food anymore.

Mother has gotten sick. Quite sick. To get straight to the point: she seems to have a history of diabetic foot. That pisses me off, because I started remembering the mysterious tingling I have in my big toe, and now it feels more ominous. Damn doctor, he didn't take it seriously when I told him about it. "Well, it's been like that since childhood, right?" Damn. I'm sorry if you're a doctor, dear reader. But lately I've been distrustful of the medical culture. The one that emphasizes prestige and financial gain, seeing patients as numbers, individuals who contribute to the statistics. "As soon as you have the money, come get the surgery." Dreams and goals are minimized when it comes to living longer.

(≖_≖ )

It's hard to write while trying to ignore this tingling. But... ugh. Anyway. Getting back to the loose idea from the previous paragraph. Mother was ordered to have tests done for diabetic foot. Suspected diabetic foot. This is a sign—actually, there have been more, but I interpret them as signs that my free time to try to focus on my projects, and deal with the final project, is running out. I don't see myself having any hope of a peaceful future with a stable, not-too-demanding job. I think I'll soon have to prioritize survival over my "dreams" or "ambitions." Although, in retrospect, I've always said that about things I ended up leaving unfinished or abandoning.

I hope those tests come back clear tomorrow. Either way, it's a sign of my ancestors aging. I don't know how much longer my father will be around, either. But oh well. I have to get up early, so I should go to sleep now.

I hope.

At least.

Post that illustration.

In search of the ideal reflection. On things and contexts.

I feel so calm right now, despite the usual pain in one of my fingers (how I hate it). 

No, but seriously. The rain is gently pattering on the roof. The night is cold, and I've paused for a moment from writing the amphibian guide. Illustration 31 of protists is almost finished; I just need to add a few details and the names of the organelles. The amphibian guide is still a work in progress, but I'm making as much progress as I can. I've already started working on the illustrations for my final project. I need to finish it soon because it's already October, and it's been almost two years since I got stuck on it. And there's what looks like a premature presentation of my final project coming up at one of those crappy conferences they always put on at the university. I don't really like the idea, but mother was getting anxious, and I had to ask her if I was going to present my final project in front of an audience so she wouldn't ask the administration, because I'm afraid she'll find out the truth. No, actually, I'm afraid of her reaction, that she'll definitely humiliate me in front of everyone.

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There are so many things I have to do. But now, in light of this playlist, I feel somewhat less haunted. I imagine happy scenarios with people who were already in the past. Lately, I haven't had any memories with girl M or with (2)1(1)_11(2)-(2)1(1)-(3)1-11(1)1. Could you say I got over those pseudo-phases with them? 

(ᵕ—ᴗ—)

I don't really know. But either way, I don't care because, well, they're in the past. K44levy carries more weight somehow. It was obvious, even though I know it was all orchestrated.

I'm reading the Super no Ura de Yani Suu Futari manga. You probably know what I'm talking about, one of the latest hits of the year, about a forty-something office worker who strikes up a friendship with a cashier, and the relationship seems to gradually deepen. It's a calm manga, and I like its tone.

I'm rooting for their happiness.

•𐃷•

My reflection is that what I like, in general, is calmness. Despite the negative passivity it eventually brings. You know, not taking risks means you don't experience misfortunes, but neither do you experience the potential rewards. I think I'm more inclined to avoid misfortunes, although sometimes my impulses lead me to misfortunes or disappointments, and not so much to true rewards. That's why I think I like calm.

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✖✖✖✖✖✖✖

I had a virtual English class. You know, because I have to finish my final project, or else this investment in certifications will be a huge mistake. The typical crappy classes where they force you to talk to strangers online to practice speaking, which I actually need to improve a lot. Today's topic was about finding happiness in a place. A standard video of a guy who went on a trip to Copenhagen, the happiest city in the world, at least in the time frame of the video. Then a round of questions where I had to give substantial answers in English to demonstrate my level of... English.

One of the questions was about where I feel most at home, what a place would need to have for me to feel like home... And I was thinking... I haven't really felt truly at home. Every place I've been has always presented at least one major drawback. Here with mother, everything is stable and the cold weather is pleasant, but having to live in anticipation of when she'll snap is exhausting, eventually. Going off without permission to the capital and just spending time on the grass at the university seems to give me relaxing vibes for a moment, but I'm constantly aware of the danger around me, since it's an area where I can be temporarily, not permanently. Where my father is, I have the advantage of being with someone who doesn't demand as much of me, but the weather is awful, and the people in the neighborhood too; I felt threatened on all fronts. Thank goodness Dad was there to escort me.

Apparently: X:@myntx__ IG:@myntx__

........................................... So, where do I truly feel at peace? 

With k44levy, I felt equally out of place and like I was making a huge mistake. And that's where I completely laid myself bare.

I think my true home is wherever I have at least a phone or a computer. And where I can simply research or read about something random. With no intentions or greater goal than to pass the time. Alone.

☢️

And I don't mean that in a negative sense of loneliness. I think that, ultimately, I feel most comfortable when I'm absorbed in my thoughts with no threats around me. Listening to my favorite music. To the sound of raindrops. Not bravery. Not great rewards. But not risks either. Stability, that's what I seem to be looking for in the end. To live without feeling guilty for existing.

Lately I've been listening to a lot of vaporwave. I've stopped listening to dubstep and future funk. Sometimes I feel like listening to music from the eighties or nineties, leaning towards the calmer stuff. Don't get me wrong, I still like the other styles, dubstep still appeals to me. But right now, when I listen to them, I don't feel any excitement.

I only feel the joy of a good melody, but no emotion. With vaporwave, right now, that's not the case. Well, it depends on the music, too. But I'm repeating the songs of "desert sand feels warm at night" to myself; his music has a calmness and slowness that coincides with my passive solitude at this moment. 

Because at other times I preferred romantic music, but that was because I had a specific ghost on my mind. It seems that's no longer the case. I don't feel sad exactly; I don't know if this is described as nostalgia for past moments when it seemed I was going to reach the ideal.

As if the ideal was ever even real at any point in the history of life. But that doesn't matter. Because perfection lies in the moments that, right now, make me feel welcome. The solitude, the tranquility, the serenity of this moment. They give me an inexplicable warmth. I feel that fear doesn't exist while I write, taking refuge in vaporwave. While I plan my to-dos for tomorrow. To the rhythm of the song's slow, deep voices.

I hope to stay stable for a while longer, even if I don't make any progress. 

But I need to focus on finishing the final project. 

I hope the calm lasts. I hope I don't go off the rails and face the stoats again. If it happens... I'll definitely tell you about it.

Do I remember anyone right now?

No.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

I suppose my father.

I hope he's well.

I hope I can meet with him again.

I hope I can give him a more appropriate hug from someone my age.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Ultimately, I suppose k44levy also occupies an important place in my mind. I should dedicate a drawing to her, an illustration of a protist.

Yes... that would be... ideal.