did you ever have a moment when you looked at your life and its fantasies and went , oh. its not gonna happen. not any of it. nada.It's just going to be like this. exactly how it is. not good enough for the fantasy, but
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existential dread without depression feels emptier somehow. lighter. like i can access it only cognitively, or that the feelings are going, meh, so what, not the end of the world.
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fantasies sit on an over-fitted curve, all twists and turns, not all congruent or related but still feel like the best version. reality is closer to the linear regression line. i bring this up because it would be gauche not to try and compress the complex and hazy business of existence into poorly understood and reductive mathematical terms.
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text/gemini