My friends, I hope this message finds you in good health. Wi..

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02 May, 2025
Title: My friends, I hope this message finds you in good health. Wi..
Message:

My friends, I hope this message finds you in good health. With the arrival of sunshine have come lovely but exhausting times—I’m working in the garden constantly. Add to that my job in psychiatry and regular gym sessions, and it becomes pretty overwhelming. Physically, it’s incredibly hard to dig through the mountains of junk my dad piled up, and on top of that, I have to deal with all the nasty negativity he throws my way. But what can you do? The work has to be done—you can’t live knee-deep in filth.

The most frustrating part is that I’m not one of those pseudo-working bloggers who snap a bunch of aesthetic pictures and then go chill. I’m just… actually working. Sitting with my dirty butt in a pile of dirt, fighting ants with my tiny shovel :( As you can see, I still found a little time to play my beloved Oblivion. I really adore my modded old version, but I do want to try the remaster. No one bought it for me, of course 🥴🥴🥴 not that I was really expecting it.

A rather funny situation happened, actually—a fan “wanted” to gift me the game, but Steam wouldn’t allow the transaction because of price differences between our countries. There was a very obvious alternative—he has access to one of my payment platforms. But instead, he just sent a screenshot from Steam and that was the end of it. Kind of amusing, but also a bit pathetic. Maybe I’m dumb as a rock, but I don’t get why someone would stage a whole performance about potentially buying a gift just to yank my chain and manipulate me. I’m a human being too, with hopes and wants, and I don’t want to waste my time begging for something that was never meant to be given. A simple, clear “no” is so easy.

Also, when I was messing around with AI recently, I remembered a strange little moment. When my first dog, Gabby, died, I used to lie in bed and think a lot about how warm and dry it was where I was. And how she, wrapped in her shroud, was lying outside in the yard under a thick layer of earth. Still whole, like she was alive—with her soft beige fur, ears, paws, tail. Untouched, yet under the rain. Not long ago, she was right here, curled up in bed with me. That thought—that her precious body, the one that had been with me for so many years, was whole and untouched by decay, but buried under the ground—it didn’t just bring me pain. It gave me this deep, unsettling sense of wrongness. Like a crookedly laid tile, or a chalk mark left on a clean blackboard. That feeling was so heavy, it choked me. I just wanted to go and dig her up one last time, to see her again. Thankfully, now there’s only a skeleton left.

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