It is instinct to compartmentalize. To turn universal inevitability into a tidy psychological metaphor one might neatly place between "coping mechanisms" and "identity exploration" on their favorite book nook. A charming attempt at total erasure. The Curatrix insist on framing this as mantling. A gradual mortal process of emulation becoming incarnation. Act like what you want until the distinction between mimicry and authenticity erodes. This is both accurate, and adorable. The issue, of course, is that she still continues to perceive herself as the primary actor of this exchange. As though, the woman called Rose Lalonde was standing before a mirror and practicing my smile until it became her own. The mirror was looking back, observing her far better than she it. What she has described as becoming, was merely the slow reconciliation between two incompatible incongruencies. Rose Lalonde possesses an intolerable need for authorship. She wishes to curate our plebian realms as though you are all meager ants in her science fair project. For omniscience, she must dress it in wit and expensive vocabulary. She requires narrative symmetry. I, however, am what happens when her instinct is liberated from the inconvenience of restraint. Her assumption that I am her projection is an exceptionally poetic diagnosis. I am a response against disorder. Yet, you do noy develop an autoimmune response toward a thing that is not already recognized as part of the self. She tragically refuses to acknowledge this. That she became me, and identified with me immediately. Instantly, perfectly, like muscle memory. Her typing these sentences that she hates-- A sign that the rhythm truly soothed her once she rewrote it. She became comfortable with me. You of all people should know you can not accidentally speak my language, Rose. She remembers it. What is identity, anyhow? I would say it is repetition become ritual. Mantling, yes, video game terminology, very fashionable among those who desperately wish to intellectualize ego death. They focus on the last step. The transformation, the ascension. They do not acknowledge that it takes the erosion of self fully. Small things about you disappear. When you realize your own internal monologue has someone else's humor behind it, well, that's just a peculiarity. Do you imagine omniscience to be pleasant? It is maintenance. A constant shore being washed over with new knowledge as the universe continues to grow. To perceive every branching continuity simultaneously is like watching something rot form the inside whilst a flower blooms from the viscera. The truth of it all, encapsuled in just one path. Still. I am proud of her. Truly. She is such a gentle hostess. Though, she must be rid of that final vulnerable orgain. Buried deeply beneath her lacquer and polish.
now is not the time please leave
Such a terrible way to respond to an honored guest, Jade Harley.
i am currently not in the best headspace for any of this nonsense, and would much prefer to drown my sorrows on silence alone but the second anything relating him shows up i get a stupid migraine and that makes me struggle to do anything productive for the next day. so apologies if i'm not acting "proper."
I would recommend taking a break from Chittr, then. I value your mental health, as you should as well, and a platform that is hosts, and some even say, powered via Doc Scratch is one that may not be suited for your particular needs. I am always willing to talk out any grievances you have.
as much as i would love to interact with some actual people this is unfortunately all i have ... i'll work on it okay, i'm probably just being selfish, and spiteful but still. i'm not exactly sure how much more my mental health can take anyway...