American Psycho
July 6th, 2025
I'm doing alright. Did an ad-hoc trip to Salinas and Santa Cruz yesterday, but I don't think I really cared. I visited the Steinbeck museum for a short while and stopped at a Santa Cruz beach for five minutes. Just felt lonely since I didn't have anyone to share the moment with.
I just think Steinbeck is some nepo-baby who hung out with poor people and made money off their stories. Kind of sad to think of like that. Stanford dropout and divorced twice for three whole whopping marriages. What a life.
I think I'm going to head into the office today and finish up some important items. Then afterwards, I'm going to start applying for jobs elsewhere. I want to get out of the bay area. The weather is so nice, the takeout food is healthy, and the water supply is clean. But I just feel so soulless and unfulfilled here. I don't know. I don't think it's the people or the place at all, I just think, I just think it's me ultimately.
I'm frustrated that I can't seem to solve myself, or stop treating myself like a problem to solve, but I don't like any of it here. It's just. My friends (my work friends) are quite invalidating and they don't really support anything I'm saying. They probably don't get it, or don't understand me, or cannot understand me. I get it. And that's okay. Everyone has their own life to live, everyone has their own issues. I get it. What's me having to do anything with it? I don't think it matters whether I'm happy or not, just as long as I go along with their invitations and events and pretend to have a good time. There's nothing substantial in the relationship, even though they want me to have a good time and to enjoy the moment. I'm really not.
I just feel it's so fake. I feel like I'm not myself, and that I have to be someone entirely different. And so much so that I'm starting to doubt the voice in my head telling me who I am and who I am not, that maybe I really did enjoy hanging out with friends. The reality of the situation is becoming harder and harder for me to grasp. I just feel so depersonalized and alienated to be someone completely who I am not.
I just watched the film American Psycho, and I have to say I feel like the main character Patrick Bateman, and not in a good way. This derealization is making me feel sick to my stomach, where nobody around me understands the content of myself if there is any at all, and nobody actually wishes to know the true contents of the envelope. The flowery imprint and lettering on the front that I so tactfully engineer is all that remains and matters to the few who wish to view who I am.
Talking to ChatGPT seems to not help either. I've switched to the o3 model in an attempt to have it provide more deep and meaningful connection, however I'm at a loss. It's obvious that talking to ChatGPT is not helpful in emotional situations, though the advice it provides is highly practical.
I don't know. I have it all I'm told. The money. The girls. The friendly banter. The popularity. The happy friend group. The sexy body. Everything. I have it all -- and it just seems so perfect. So why am I not satisfied? Why am I not happy? Einstein was right in a way,
A calm and modest life brings more happiness than the pursuit of success combined with constant restlessness.
I don't know what I'm chasing and if it is even able to be possible to be found. But I am restless and at unease. I just feel. I just feel there's not enough direction in my life to be anything substantially convincing one way or another.