Thirteenth
January 13th, 2026
There's a cold feeling in my chest. I've dated these two girls, C and E, and frankly, I cognitively care for both of them.
I feel a warmth when I am in their presence, perhaps its oxytocin overdose, but it feels nice. It feels comforting. I went on a date with E on Monday, and we went to eat some Xiao Long Bao and Bing Su near Fell Street. I listened to her ramble about her friends, nodding along, and cheerfully picking at the ice cream. As I left I walked down Franklin Street, which was dangerous, and we talked and teased one another. At the metro line she gave me a warm hug, and asked not to have to take the next train. I said okay. We held each other in embrace for longer than expected, and kissed each other, even though it would get her a little sick from my sore throat.
In my mind I could not but feel a deep sadness and wanting to stop, because I was thinking of C. When she got on her train line. I squatted down and teared up. A few tears left my eyes and I could not feel a pang of dangerous guilt for why I felt the way that I did. I had looked deep into her eyes and saw her inner child, gleefully wanting to make out with me. I just. I just could not help but cry for preferring another girl.
A dangerous thought came to mind where I would just have two girlfriends, but I quickly wisted the idea away. I could not in my right integrity do that to another human being in this culture and society.
I had not desire or reason to turn E down, it was just that my feelings did not feel that way towards her. If there's one thing I've learned in life, it's that feelings depend on two things: the way you frame the reality, and the life experiences that have trained your nervous system. You cannot control how you feel.
On Saturday I had gone on a date with C. We spent much of the day together, chatting after a three week hiatus at Ocean Beach. Visiting a local cafe, Union Square, competing in nonsensical games. Visiting the bakery in the Ferry Building, and watching all the foot traffic go to and fro against the backdrop of the Bay Bridge. We talked about life, about high school, about middle school, about decorations, about activities. We talked about our lives, cringe moments, favorite fruits. Favorite drinks. Wants needs and desires.
She came to my place and we became intimate. For the first time in my life I stared into another's eyes and found a warm peace. The oxytocin must have done a number on my brain, for I felt like I was one with the world, and that no sense of rational or logical idea or word came to my mind. It was the inner child in me that looked into her eyes, without being clouded by the temptation of words or consciousness.
I realize now that my political leanings have left me voting for the orange man, and having done that I've marked that my politics are twisted from the status quo. If only I had felt that Kamala had a stronger platform that was less of a sermon of moralizing nature would I have voted for her.
I expressed to two close friends the debacle and revealed that I voted for the orange man, and that his lack of moral fiber did not affect whether or not I voted for him. I feel the orange man is a highly intelligent, Machiavellian, and clever businessman. To me, he puts on an ego show to get the attention and make noise for himself.
I suppose I lack affective empathy, because even though I know Trump is the moral equivalent of Hitler in some sense of a ruler, I do not care. I know he's ruined the lives of many immigrants and citizens, and I know he's ruined the lives of many in the LGBTQ+ community. (Actually, I am not sure of that, from my understanding there have been a lot of program cuts though, perhaps in that sense if any these programs were life-altering then yes, these people's lives were ruined.)
Accountability and Responsibility - Undoing Manipulation
I've been manipulated most of my life, and my parents often used manipulation against me to get me to obey. It's a tactic used in politics too, and so on and so forth. I really ought to not even consider it.
But as I realize that I am not giving people the choice really about choosing me, by only showing parts of me I'm manipulating a positive opinion in others about me, and I'm not allowing them to form a solid opinion by themselves.
It's like selling products but you only talk about the good talking points, and you hide that it's got a big stain on its backside. Once they buy it's too late.
I know not of what I ought to do, but I figure that I ought to be more truthful in doing it.
Work
I've been a little distracted at work lately, I can't seem to get myself to focus and sit down to do the things I ought to do. My list of items are piling up and my manager is asking why I am wasting time on a task. It's true.
There'll be a lot of questions why this didn't get done, and my credibility will be hurt. It hurts a lot that I over-promised and under-delievered, and hoenstly, I really ought to not do that so often.
The answer is likely going to be no. There's going to be questions why, but when work comes about, the answer is going to be "no" and there's going to be a need for prioritization to happen. I have a long career ahead of me and trying to burn myself out by accepting every little task that comes my way is too doggone harsh.
There's a lot I need to do, and there's a lot I need to do.
It's stressful. I can't seem to get my bearings to get the work done, and I'm feeling overwhelmed. I do wish I had a bit of support or something like that, but it seems like more work is getting piled on my plate and I can't seem to find my bearings at all.
Avatar
I watched the new Avatar movie, it was alright. I give it a 6/10. The plot was so generic, and the characters were so dull. The macho military parenting style unfortunately evoked memories of my school peers' parents.
Grit, Passion, Youth, Momentum
I feel as if I'm losing the momentum. That I am not working as hard as I did in my youth now that I have the golden handcuffs of a cushy tech job on.
I just, don't feel that motivated. My university experience was not challenging or grueling in the slightest, in fact it was during high school that I grinded the hardest and worked the hardest.
It is funny how with the opportunity and freedom and money to choose what I do with my time, I squander it away. I suppose not necessarily, because it's how I learn, but at the same token it's just so merrily sad to see myself waste the time away doing things I don't even particularly love doing.
I suppose though what I'm doing is avoiding the hard questions in my life, and avoiding the hard feelings in my life. I'm avoiding the hard truths that I feel deep down are true, but am not ready to admit it, which is admittedly okay.
Intrinsic Motivators, Feeling Lost in Life
Perhaps I haven't found what intrinsically motivates me in life. I'm not sure at all.
Now that money, status, and security are a solved problem, what is it now? What is life? I have always wondered what is the meaning of my life—I have wondered what is the intrinsic meaning in my life. I feel it is as if I am afraid to admit the truth.
Core "What If" Questions to Uncover Internal Motivators
What if money, status, and security were completely guaranteed forever—what would I spend my days doing, and why does that feel energizing (or empty)?
I would spend my days... well... painting for one. And drawing. Sure. Maybe spending time dating women. Looking them in the eyes. I could get addicted to oxytocin, but at the same time it's not all satisfying.
I'd probably explore for a couple years, then meet new people. See new perspectives. I think I'd build a video game. I'd build something, a story in particular. Maybe I'd build a product to help people.
I think impact is the word I'm looking for. Doing something impactful. Doing something that'll actually make a difference in someone's life or day, I have no idea.
What if I could relive one period of my life (like high school grind days) but keep my current wisdom and resources—would I choose to grind that hard again, on what, and what part of it felt most alive?
I would use the time to learn more about the world. The world is so vast, and there are so many different ways to approaching the world. I would read more, and I would talk to people more. I would spend the time expanding my worldviews and trying to understand this whole thing they call life.
I would spend my time building things and talking to people. I would try to make an impact on people's lives by talking to them and getting to know them.
What part of it felt most alive? Well, the parts where I contributed to something greater than myself. The band classes. The marching band, standing in the field, playing an instrument for a set of bleachers.
I enjoyed those moments. I enjoyed the responsibility of being someone on the team.
What if tomorrow I woke up with zero obligations or expectations from anyone—what activity or pursuit would I naturally gravitate toward first, and what stops me from doing more of it now?
I currently don't have any obligations or expectations from anyone, at least none that I let affect me. Perhaps I have expectations for myself. Perhaps I would play video games or scroll reels.
Or perhaps I would go and paint and draw. I don't know. Or perhaps, I would write? I would continue to write publicly and try to make an impact on the world.
There are ideas here to be fleshed out, but perhaps what I'm saying is that I'm motivated by impact. But isn't impact an external motivator?
What if I failed spectacularly at something ambitious I secretly care about—what would that failure actually cost me emotionally, and why does imagining it feel so heavy (or liberating)?
Liberating. Because if I only knew my failure, it means that I'ved learned something incredibly useful.
What if this "wasted time" feeling is a signal from a deeper part of me—what truth is it trying to protect me from admitting right now?
Perhaps it's me admitting that I like doing nothing!
What if I looked back at age 80 and the job/security stayed the same but I never pursued [X thing that tugs at me]—how would that version of me feel, and what small regret or relief comes up?
Awful. Why didn't I take more risk in life? I spent all these years to do what? To just die at old age?
Perhaps if I had kids it'd have been worth it, but while I am young, don't I still have the opportunity to make a difference?
What if the youthful momentum wasn't about "working hard" but about feeling fully engaged and challenged—what modern version of that engagement could I create without blowing up my current life?
Focusing at work. Doing the best I can at everything that I do.
What if I experimented for just one month treating my deepest suspicion ("This isn't enough for me") as true—what tiny, reversible step would I take first, and what emotion arises thinking about it?
I would probably start working on the side on side projects. Trying to determine ways to build something impactful.
What if external rewards vanished tomorrow (no more pay raises, prestige)—would my drive for certain things increase, decrease, or stay the same, and why?
I would not work hard at work anymore. Probably to grow as a person, that's for sure, to pickup on good habits and skills that upper management and leadership has, but to a purpose of pursing my own thing.
What if the part of me avoiding the hard truth is actually protecting something valuable (like peace, relationships, self-image)—what is it safeguarding, and is the protection worth the coasting cost?
It's protecting my job, my peace, my existing relationships, and yes, my self-image. All of it. Is it worth it? I think so. These things are important, and if I let this feeling takeover who knows the irreversible damage it could cause.
Public Writing
Why, there's a reason I write publicly, isn't there? Why I check the number of views this blog gets once a week. It's because I do care about impact and attention and all those things—but perhaps why, and why in an extrinsic manner?
Perhaps... perhaps...