You're on this page because you clicked on one of my crapppy jokes. Warning: This internet stranger is about to talk about his mental health.

I have been depressed for more than half of my life, and I have increasingly felt like there is no outlet for my feelings. It feels like certain words cause people to close their ears and take out bandages. I stop being a person engaging with the meaning of my life, and I start to become a case number or a remedial grade. But I don't feel like I am a puzzle with well-defined guidelines and a solution, and I can't pretend like I am anymore.

I am going to make some dark jokes. They might involve mental health, queerness, and bodies/gender/identity.

I don't believe that people forced to exist outside of a box have to perform their reality to avoid the criticism of the algorithmic floods. For me, the only remaining world for me to inhabit is one of engaging with meaning. I am going to do that on my site. I am going to make unsavory jokes or roll my eyes or pretend to be toxic. You should use your free will and leave if you don't want that in your life. I'll revisit this if an organization makes my dumb bullshit required reading.

I promise myself that I will not belittle myself, and my hope is that is reflected in the things I make.

If you are here looking for answers to questions that seem reasonable yet have no viable answer: please reach out to someone you know and trust, and if that feels like no one, please actually contact your local crisis hotline (988 in the US) to talk to someone. Despite what your brain might feel, no question has to be answered alone.

Anyway, thanks for checking in. Let's go back to something stupider.