ACS09022020: Not Good Enough

When I saw the title of this video, I raged quite hard internally. It was the first time I was so offended by anything on the internet, because that's such a silly fucking notion to me.

For as ridiculously flawed as the FD RX-7 is, hardly anyone says a bad thing about it. I think that's because the RX-7 has already achieved a legendary status among car enthusiasts, being a prominent highlight of the fabled 90's Japanese sports car boom. And as if the rose tinted glasses of nostalgia that's selling like sickening hotcakes today weren't enough on their own, this car is flawed in all the right and darling ways. It's horrendously thirsty for both fuel and oil. It's not exactly practical. It has a reputation for having sketchy at best reliability. It's difficult to get in and out of, even for the Japanese. But those are all endearing flaws and compromises because it is so focused on one and one thing only: to offer the driver the best driving experience ever. And to that end, by god does it deliver. Many still laud the FD today as one of the finest handling cars ever produced, and, in my very biased mind, the single most beautiful, as well. All the curves accentuate the beauty of its inherent shape, but none of them ever feel deliberate, like they are conscious, stylistic choices like all the pretend creases and folds in today's fat cars that struggle to stand out. The proportions are just... so... right. We will never have another car as low and curvaceous, and certainly not as light and focused as the FD RX-7 ever again, thanks to asinine laws that protect fucking idiots who don't look both ways twice before crossing, and the people who drive when they know they shouldn't to keep them all on the road for longer to endanger people more and make cars fatter and more artificial.

The FD RX-7 is a very personal thing to me, and I realise how stupid that sounds, given I've never even sat in one before, and probably never will. I think, at my lowest, cars, and the FD, were what I had chosen as an alternative to define me, to pull me out of a very dark pit I still don't quite understand today. It has shaped me and how I grew up for maybe the better and definitely the worse. I don't think I've ever mentioned this yet, but I really do hate myself for loving cars. I think it is such a stupid hobby, such a stupid sport, and such a stupid thing to love. It's very difficult to love cars without having someone breathe down your neck for it, be it laws, neighbours, a fiancée, your kids, your bank account, or even your own goddamned spine when the time comes. As a sport it is so... crude. Racing is a non contact sport, but even at the highest levels of racing, contact is inevitable. We wave accidents off as "racing incidents", and "being at the wrong place at the wrong time", but each can kill a man or cripple him for life. We burn precious resources as a sport. And honestly, I think the world would be just fine without racing drivers, without fast cars. I believe sponsors and people in need of a status symbol will find something else to throw their money at. But what would the world be without psychologists, accountants, chefs, etc..? Hell, even soccer brings groups of people together. Golf is even used as a businessman's sport. The hell is racing even good for? And it is such an obscenely expensive sport, reserved for those born into it. You want to be a basketball player? Your school probably has a basketball club. Your community centre probably has a basketball court or three. You can buy equipment for it at your local sporting store. But how do you become a racing driver? How do you become good at it? How do you get more involved, how do you get your foot in the door?

I hate myself for loving cars. I feel like I've dedicated my life to an end that will never ever acknowledge me. To an end I will never make a difference to. I have suffered so much mental anguish, and still I have yet to even sit in an FD. I have taken up engineering. I have taken up Japanese. I have flown to Japan on my own. I've been to Mazda's HQ. I have driven my nuts off in simulators trying to chase lap times I have no idea how to achieve. And I feel like I'm at such a loss in every respect. No one is here to guide me, because no one else here loves cars, let alone has made it in the industry. The car culture here is so consciously pretentious it makes me fucking sick. There is no creativity here, there is no performance, no substance, here; only showboating. There is nowhere to run your car here. Car shows here are all about downpayments, monthly repayments, insurance, warranties, running costs, resale value, etc.. And while those are all very valid concerns, they all sound so... foreign, to me. And yes, I realise that this is foreign to me only because I grew up on the wrong side of the fence of common sense, but it genuinely bewilders and disgusts me when people talk about cars like the cold chunks of metal they are. It disgusts me when people ask about resale value because to me that sounds exactly like marrying a woman and asking how much you can pawn her off for later after you've slept with her. No one here *WANTS* a car. They want a car as a tool to get from A to B, and will very happily take a bottom of the barrel pile of junk as a tool. They want a car that looks expensive and has a cool looking, exotic badge on it, even if that same car is the entry level car somewhere else in the world, as a status symbol. As a way to woo women. As a way to bolster their self image and cover up their own inadequacies. There are entire body kits, entire CARS, sold with fake, non functional vents, intakes, and aero bits, just to cater to an image, and people BUY them. No one here *WANTS* a car for the driving experience it can provide. No one here WANTS a car to go on a personal journey of self discovery. No one here loves a car. No one here sees anything in a car more than a cold chunk of metal. No one here wants a car to drive it. And it makes me fucking sick to be here.

...god damn that was a can of worms I hadn't expected to pop open when I started this post.

*ah-hem* I think a lot of us English and Japanese speaking car enthusiasts have been bewitched by the FD RX-7 to really and fairly criticise it for its flaws, because it is so difficult to objectively judge given its legendary status. I will never stop loving and wanting one, even if to drive one means I will cook my left thigh medium rare each trip, for example. It goes beyond reasoning and rational thought. Sports cars were never about reasoning and rational thought to begin with; if anything, they're meant to be a break away from that. An escape from thought and reasoning when it has worn you down and torn away at you in your daily life. A means to never grow up and forget the wonder of seeing the world through a child's eyes. A way to see characters in the inanimate. It was really refreshing and even eye opening to see someone bash the FD with valid complaints, because I have been so blind to them. And when the host of the review praises the unique assets of the FD, I felt a side of me long dead spark with joy again. I felt... proud, for a bit, when he mentioned how lightweight and compact the Rotary Engine is. How little moving parts it had. How that lightness and simplicity more than makes up for the power deficit it suffers in comparison to its rivals of its day. It even made me thrilled and excited for competition. And it put into perspective for me just how emotionally invested I am in the damn thing, to feel angry when I saw the title, to feel joy and pride when the car is praised. It's almost as if I have put a part of me into the damn car. A car I don't even own. It is quite literally my favourite car in my favourite colour, and I just... don't have the words. And, quite frankly, in that state of wonder and joy, I don't need words.

But it makes me realise why that side of me has died. The side of me that feels wonder, pride, and joy in cars. Because it's all so fucking stupid. What business have I investing myself like that in a car that I don't own? For all that I feel, I couldn't finance Mazda to make a new Rotary sports car. I couldn't prove how capable it is in races. That may or may not even be the point of sports cars, the more I think about it. I am just sick and tired, of feeling so much, that go nowhere and do nothing. I'm just sick and tired, for never being good enough for what I love.

ACS21032020

So I started driving a Private Hire Car this past Wednesday.

It's been hella stressful. I legitimately think I couldn't have picked any worse a timing to start this line of work, given the recent COVID-19 shenanigans. I rented a 2008 Corolla Altis 1.6 for a month at 55 dollars a day to see if this line of work is for me, and... well...

I think, with all my mental distress aside, I quite like this job. It just so happens that I go through a LOT of mental distress on this job, and end up wiped out from about half a day of driving. Now, I am a (funda)mentally broken person, so I doubt anything will be smooth sailing for me. And to be fair, half a day of driving is almost the same hours as a regular office job hours, just shifted around a bit.

Admitting that things aren't easy is easy. What isn't easy is not judging myself for struggling so much. Am I too sensitive? Are my feelings too easily swayed? Probably yes to both. Is it normal to be stressed and panic a little on your first few days at a job, especially with no one to guide you? Definite yes to that. COVID-19 means every business is suffering. But it doesn't change the fact that the sheer amount of distress I'm feeling is driving me to extreme edges in my head. The extreme edges that make me give it all up and say "fuck it" and die. And that's a pretty awful head space to be in. And that makes me feel weak and doubt myself. And then that leads to me hating myself.

Business I feel has been agonisingly slow in the three days that I've been driving, and I am struggling immensely just to break even with all the costs of doing this job, which is about a hundred dollars a day, if you were to take fuel and parking into account. I think I would need a lucky full day driving my balls off to even have a hundred dollars of earnings. I am genuinely paying to work most of the time. And THAT I think is the biggest kick in the balls for me the past three days. It makes me think that I really am a hopeless, good for nothing. That I have tried and failed at an office job, a blue collar job, and now a self employed job. What else can I do, what else could I possibly be good for? If I can never hope to make a profit at a job with flexible hours like this, how am I supposed to seek long term psychotherapy treatment I know I need? I feel like I'm stuck in a deep pit and there are bugs, or something, anything, constantly gnawing away at me for as long as I'm in here. And I don't know how to get out.

One good thing that has come from all this is how reassuring my family and friends have been in my "time of crisis", assuming I can actually categorise any period of my life as being particularly in crisis, because they all are. My cousin, -, who's balls deep in the car industry, has been offering me expert level advice, and is even offering to meet me and talk at each stage of my PHC life, from application, to test, and now when I am actually driving. On my first day, I went to have lunch with my sister, when I was on the verge of losing all composure from panic and stress, and she could see that. She tried to talk me down and reassured me that what's important now is that I learn the ropes and go out and see the world a little, forget the money, implying that she and my parents will cover for me financially. My mother went out and bought collared shirts for me, and dug out my mechanic pants from long ago, because she heard that I need collared shirts and long pants, and none of my previous ones fit me anymore. I didn't even ask, I didn't even tell my family about any of this. They just heard and sprang into action, glad that their hikikomori-ing son is finally trying to do something with his life once again. It's been tremendously moving, even if I can't express it in person because I'm always so emotionally exhausted and frustrated at life and at myself.

Of course, having all that support and therefore having no one to blame but myself and having no excuses to still be suffering so much just makes me hate myself even more.

I've planned to explain away my very long periods of being unemployed at my next job interview by saying things like, "I was driving PHC while trying to figure out what I want in my life", but it's ringing scarily true for a statement that's just meant to be an excuse. In my moments of extreme panic and feeling so hopelessly lost, my mind snaps to places of great comfort for me, which is usually around where I live. Also, strangely, I find myself frequenting IMH a lot, despite saying that I never ever want to go back there, because it reminds me too much of █, but I guess maybe that's precisely why my mind snaps back there in my time of crisis to begin with. It's an odd thing, to feel comfort in ferrying customers who live near me, even if they are the very same strangers from anywhere else. But the real oddity here for me personally is that I felt the same, if not more comfort, for ferrying workers and patients from IMH. I always felt so glad to be helping someone who's helping others in such a meaningful way, and I feel an odd empathy, an odd connection, for the patients I ferry, too... well, "worker" and "patient", anyway; I've only had two fares from the area the past three days.

It makes me wonder if I've been barking up the wrong tree this whole time in my life. I kept saying I wanted to be an engineer, to build the world's best sports car it has ever seen. I kept thinking I had to be a racing driver, to have credence. But, really, I feel like age has dulled that desire somewhat. Yes, I'm having a mid life crisis at about a third of my life. Sports cars are so mostly pretentious, image things. Social status, women wooing tools. Who really drives a sports car the way they're meant to be driven? A shocking microscopic minority. So much so that there are "sports" cars made just to cater to an image, with no performance to speak of. Racing as I've come to feel is such a stupid sport. Nowadays I think I legitimately feel more joy in helping others, talking them through their mental hurdles, as I have had done to me before. Of course, I'm no trained professional, so the level of help I can offer is severely limited at best and maybe dangerously flawed at worst, but I enjoy it nonetheless. I do legitimately wonder if I, broken to bits as I am, could be someone else's light for a little bit. I wonder if... I could be someone else's █.

But bah it's not worth thinking about because I'm actually going to need a degree in psychology or something to be a █ and where the fuck am I going to find the money for that.

ACS30012020

As January 2020 comes to a close, I just want to remind myself that I'm... well, I hesitate to say it now in spite of coming here to specifically say it, but I'm okay.

Not perfect, obviously. I still feel down, angry, sad, tired, and empty for seemingly no reason oftentimes. I still unconditionally hate myself for reasons beyond my understanding. I still think I'm much better off dead and still wish that I were... wow, not a great sales pitch for "I'm okay", is it? And people tell me I'd make a great car salesman, pah.

I haven't cried (much...) the past two weeks. I haven't had sleepless nights where feelings of emptiness and longing seemingly tear my soul apart. I haven't flown into blind, uncontrollable rages. I can actually think about things other than my overwhelming feelings, and even concentrate sometimes. I suppose it helps that my parents are away for a vacation for ten days so I don't have to deal with their bullcrap. I know it's an extremely low bar to set, but at this point in my life, "I'm okay" simply means I am somewhat functional. That I don't actively try to take my own life. That I don't routinely scream at and hurt those who love me the most. But even things that seemingly should be taken for granted are huge achievements and milestones for me. Maybe I'm just cut from a different cloth. Or maybe I'm just too damaged for usual norms and standards to apply to - not that it has ever stopped being slapped across my face, but you get the point.

And so, I have actually applied for a few jobs. Very. Few. I think people usually apply for 20, or maybe even 50 jobs at once when seriously job hunting, but I've applied for... 4, 3 of which are the same company. I am horrendously picky with people, to my detriment, even if experience tells me it is wholly warranted and would not allow otherwise. I am still largely disinterested in life in general, which means also that I am disinterested in most jobs. The 4 I've applied for are all automotive jobs that hopefully have some semblance of civility in them, because for some doggone reason, the automotive industry here seems to be relegated to the "lowly educated", and therefore most of the time, uncouth and vulgar among us, most of whom are foreigners that employers don't have to pay much for, anyway. I'm done working with and for gorillas. In fact, I would even go as far as to say I'm done with people in general. I've had way too much bullshit from people my entire life, from school, to slavery, to work, both in a prim and proper office and in an "uncouth" workshop. I have come to see that we are, for the most part, myopic, selfish, and cruel. If I won the lottery tomorrow and could live off of that modestly for the rest of my life, I would. But hey, I'm not asking for a miracle here. Sometimes I need to give myself a chance to do something new and prove old ideas wrong, even if it is the literal equivalent of sticking grenades into your ass and hoping the pin doesn't dislodge when you understandably squirm.

I'm no psychologist nor philosopher, but I genuinely believe that society is flawed and broken beyond rational belief. I know, I hate to be that guy as well, but it's what I genuinely believe in and I'm looking to vent in my personal space and time, okay? Common sense tells us life isn't easy, yet social etiquette commands us to discourage and even forcefully prevent suicide for those that can't handle the pain. I find it weird why, of the 7 days in a week, we work for a disproportionate 5. We're encouraged to have a work-life balance, yet it is admirable to give it your all, your "105%" as it were, at your job, leaving nothing for your private time. And when you do, you're viewed as a tryhard, an ass kisser, trying to gun for a promotion at the expense of your colleagues, instead of being viewed as trying to benefit the company, to do right by the customer, to encourage and inspire further growth, etc.. Why the hell does seniority still provide unspoken, yet palpable power in the office, especially when it's clear that they're only there desperately hanging onto their position to provide for themselves, and offer near zero value to the company? Why are these people allowed to politic and bully newcomers into dark, helpless corners? Why do human beings do this to their fellow human beings? How can this be socially acceptable? How do we talk about these things, how do we quantify and prove the existence of such an invisible problem no one can deny? Why don't we talk about these things more often? Why aren't there laws against this? How am I supposed to give my best and my all to a company if I have to deal with collateral bullshit like that? Why am I never given any training at all at my previous jobs yet still expected to perform? Do schools teach us ready-to-apply skills for the workforce? Were schools ever expected to? I was under the impression schools were a joke for the exact reason of tossing everything at you BUT that. Why am I always told to improvise, to lie, to butter up a crap sandwich for the customers? Yet when I improvise, it's wrong, it's problematic, etc.? Why does it feel like there's a "common sense" module I've missed in school? Why is it so universally applicable and expected of me? How the hell am I to know what the fuck I'm to do if all my superiors are busy with their day jobs? Why do we insist on wearing thick, uncomfortable, restrictive formal wear in this hella hot place? Why are women required to wear heels that hurt, etc.? It's all so fucking arbitrary, and it seems to me like to be "normal" in this crazy world is to understand and play along with the craziness of it. That is to say, it's normal to be insane, and I feel like I'm the only sane person in this world sometimes.

Maybe I'll get used to it. Maybe I'll learn the madness and how to play along with it. It's just that it's still a sucky proposition from where I'm sitting right now, and I have no doubt in my mind it will be a very long, arduous, and very, very painful journey to learn something I don't want to learn, just to survive. To be alive is to be insane. Maybe I'll learn to be the monsters I see some day.

Then again, who am I to say what's right and wrong, what's sane and what's insane? It's all relative, isn't it? I guess what I'm trying to say with all this is that I have a horrible time trying to make any sense of this mess of a world I find myself in. Who am I to say that hurting others is wrong, or shouldn't be allowed? I think fighting is just a part of life, just a part of nature. It's apparent even in animals, not just humans. In a civilised world, where physical violence is outlawed because we pretend to care, we have to find other ways of hurting others in the fight that is life. And if I can't find it in me to knowingly and willingly hurt others, then is that to say that I don't deserve to be alive? That I have no place in this world? It's funny, isn't it? It's laughable, isn't it? That I have been hurt endlessly my whole fucking life, yet instead of lashing back, I find myself with empathy. I find myself with kindness. I find myself unable to hurt others. What a goddamned joke I am.

God someone with a shotgun just off me already.

ACS230120: Responsibility

Dear Diary,

It's been a good, long, proper while since I last felt so ready to die. I was stable for the past several months, thanks in no small part to █. But now that she's gone, and with a separation that was less than ideal I suspect for the both of us, I have been very. fucking. miserable the past two weeks or so. I think I screamed pretty much every day at small annoyances. I flew into a blind rage zone once or twice. I wanted to cry so many times. I never wanted to wake up. I never wanted to do anything. I was tired all the time. I felt like I was never going to seek help again, and in turn, that I was never going to get any better. Pretty classic depression symptoms. Oh, and have I also mentioned? I stopped taking my meds without consulting my doctor because I don't want to go back to IMH again, because it reminds me so much of █, and I honestly feel like the trip to and from IMH and the 30 minute wait after my appointment is scheduled to start is worth the 10 minutes I'll spend talking to the doctor, only to say, "take these same meds more and tell me how you feel 4 months from now", just isn't worth it.

In my small window of stability, I did catch myself wondering, "What exactly was so different?", "How would I explain this to my past self, that wished with every fibre of his body except for his balls that he could die?" The reason I never wrote about it any sooner was because I never felt like I had a good answer to that. I think I had enough encouragement, progress, and support to make my every day suck less, so I wouldn't be preoccupied with debilitating misery all the time. Suicide has been the most difficult thing I have wanted to do my entire life, by leaps and bounds. I can never bring myself to do it, because my life isn't all hopeless misery. I still have things I live for. I'm a big fucking pussy who's afraid of a little pain too, whose primal instincts prevent him from taking that leap or swallowing those pills. And so if I have any alternative to suicide to ease my pain; any at all, it would almost certainly be the easier way out than suicide for me personally. Paying a heavily subsidised fee to talk to a highly attractive, listening, understanding, supportive woman for an hour a month? I could do that in my fucking sleep.

I flip flop weirdly between two polar opposites of what is arguably the same coin when it comes to thoughts of suicide: when I'm miserable, I think I'm the only sane person alive, and suicide is the very logical, calculated move; and that everyone else who isn't wanting to kill themselves are the ones that are sick, not me. Yet, when I'm stable, I think the opposite: that you really did have to be sick to want to kill yourself, even if I couldn't make sense of that line of thinking. It would be akin to asking why you don't cough when you aren't sick. It's... just the way things naturally are. It's just the way things naturally are for a healthy person to not even think about suicide, let alone consider it seriously and fantasise about it. Does it make sense? Not really. Then again, life never did make much sense did it?

I think the immense pain I feel forces me to a logical corner in my head, wherein I am forced to think of solutions to make the pain go away. But the thing is, not every problem has a (practical) solution. Life isn't perfect and we all know that. Hence why it still surprises me that people are still surprised when they meet someone suicidal. That, in my head, is akin to someone being so shocked to learn that someone else has caught the flu. It's really fun to juxtapose their shock and horror with someone coming down with a cold. I just happen to have had that cold for half my life now. And it's a cold that medication alone doesn't make go away. And I think, being forced into the corner of corners, my brain overloads. The immense pressure from several different problems from different aspects of life, each requiring very different solutions, makes me jam. And if you can't fight, you flight. And therein comes suicide.

I feel like I'm a good for nothing that can never hope to get any better. I can't deal with being "just" a client anymore. I can't deal with being abandoned anymore. And therefore, I can't deal with therapy anymore. And yet, medication feels to me like only 5% of the fight. I know what I need but I don't know how I'm supposed to get what I need. I find grave faults with things I really used to enjoy, like Pokémon and Gran Turismo, and swore off them till they show they can improve. I don't even know how much of it is my "depression voice" talking and how much of it is legitimate complaints. I have no joy left in my life anymore. If I wake up only to scream at those that love me the most, I don't deserve to be conscious. I do not deserve to be a financial and emotional burden to my family any longer, especially if I can't even promise, or hope, to get better. I know suicide is generally accepted to be a very selfish and cheap thing by politically correct mass media, but somehow, this just... feels right. This just feels responsible, somehow. That I end this mess I created. That I, who has nothing to contribute to this world, exit ASAP. You wouldn't keep an incapable employee in your company, who keeps drawing pay, would you? I feel the same with life as a whole.

I just wish I had the fucking balls to take responsibility for the fucking failure that I am.

things, things, and more things

090120

Today has come and gone
Just like any other day
But you have left me
For the last time today

I went home like any other day
Did my things, listened to my music
Trying not to think too much
Yes, this is just like any other day
I have been blessed today by you
And I'll have to take that blessing to better myself
Just like any other day

I become a better man with every hour I spend with you
Till death does me part with your unconditional love
Your smile eternally alluring, your personality unwaveringly addictive
It is just business as usual for you
The prostitute of the mind
And I fucking love you for it

I tried to get it out when I'm alone
But it never feels like we ever have enough time
It's okay, I'll amend it the next session
I'll tell it to you straight first thing so I don't forget
It is business as usual to never have enough time
Business as usual to eagerly await my next sunrise

We've had all agonising eternity to prepare for it
Yet I could not find the time to say goodbye
And now I try to not have time
To cry over the loss

I wonder how long it will be before I realise
That I can no longer exhale
How long it will be before I realise
That the world has gone darker forever
That the sun won't rise tomorrow
That there won't be love set aside for me tomorrow
That I will never bleed again
That, in lieu of you, I will have to love myself

A desperate, fading image
A memory clear as day, yet so hard to believe
I will have to be kind to myself
Now that you're not here
I wouldn't want you to be sad
I wouldn't want you to be angry
I wouldn't want to creep you out
But there's only so much a man can't do

You're just around the corner
Business as usual
But there's only so much a man can do
Without you

I wonder how long it will be before I break again
I wonder if I'll be able to hold it all together
I wonder how long now before realisation hits
That no one is here to service me anymore

I could moan about my feelings for the next ten years
But what would any of it mean if nobody's listening?
I would gladly be sick for the next ten years
Just to spend another two with you
I have said everything that I could
And still I had to watch you leave
I have repressed everything I didn't want to feel
And still I couldn't hold onto you
Nothing I say or feel has any weight anymore
If I could not have you with me
You are like the mother that was never here
The lover I never had
You are everything to a man
And I only loved you for it
Is that really so awful?
I'm sorry but I don't know how else I'm supposed to feel.

14-1-20

It's hard sometimes to even breathe without you
I hate these feelings of fragility
Like any slight whiff would knock me over
I hate when I have to do anything real
Because it just reminds me of how little I'm capable of
I hate when I have to write about myself
Because this is always my first and last resort
When I'm all out of other distractions
I hate these feelings of inadequacy when I'm alone
And I want you here as the cheap way out

And yet I
Don't know how to face you now that you're gone
Everything I try to fill this void just makes me all the more ashamed
And yet I
Don't know how to face you now that you don't want to see me
I know this is wrong but I only know you'll always be right

Why couldn't you be any less perfect?
You could've at least screamed and shouted at me
If you'd at least beat me black and blue
The pain would make all this so much easier
Why couldn't you be the villian in this story?
I cannot bring myself to hate you
And it's driving me insane

And now I
Don't know how to face you now that you're gone
Every tumble I take makes me feel like I've failed you
And now I
Don't know how else to tell you what I feel
Our time has come and gone but these feelings never went away

I'm so afraid of standing on my own two feet
Everything I do feels hollow and meaningless
If I can't tell them to you in our own special place
I'm so afraid of being disinterested in my own life
If I can't turn it into something to share with you
I'm so afraid of taking another chance again
I might find another you but is it really so wrong to only want you?

I know
I know you can't be with me forever
But it's only now that I realise
I wish we could pretend you could
I know
I know I can't be like this forever
But it's only now that I realise
I cannot do this without you

You're nowhere near being done with me
Come back here and take responsibility
You fucking whore
I will need you for the rest of my life
And there is nothing you can do to change my mind

vent

I am tired of feeling so much
Useless things that go nowhere and do nothing
Why is being alive such a difficult task?
Whose doing is this, and why don't I feel the desire to fight back?
I hate all these senseless, useless questions
I am tired of doubting so much
I just want all this pain to end
Is that really so hard to understand?
I've a bag of sleeping pills that don't cure insomnia
And several other habits I'm being told are unhealthy
But it keeps me going and isn't that what everyone wants?
I haven't the balls to swallow a few pills
I haven't the motivation to make anything better
I am never going to feel better
The very definition of a useless sack of shit
A waste of space, an eyesore, a disappointment
I can neither accept nor ever forgive
And yet everyone tells this guy to stay alive
To what possible end?

I feel like being a depressive sack of shit today
I'm too tired to hold up a heavy mask today
There's no rhyme nor reason to it
No greater cause, no poetic message
I'm sick and I know it
I'm miserable for reasons I can't even count
Life happens, shit happens
And no one else is going to change my mind
I feel like throwing up a little more than usual today
Everyone's watching, only to gawk and laugh
If only I were as apathetic as the monsters that populate my view

It's shocking what we can get used to
Don't glorify fighting to me any longer
I am just too tired to fight
I'd maybe be a martyr if this had all been for something personally tangible
But all I got was a poor sales pitch for what a man should be
My life is my own and no one else's
I've given too much and got too much nothing back
Just because we get used to it doesn't make it right
Used to think that I was the sick sheep in the pack
But I think now I realise I'm the only one that's making sense
In trying to make sense of the pain within,
I lost sight of everything before my eyes
And I want to cut my losses today and walk away
Live my own way and die like a man.

I feel like being myself today
A sack of shit that wants to die
For no rhyme nor reason
Other than the fact that this is my life
And I want to take it
I'm already dead on the inside
Might as well go all the way
If happiness comes from within, shouldn't sadness as well?
I'm just sick and tired of living with someone
Who pushes all my buttons and makes me scream with every little twitch
I am sick and tired, I hate myself
What's the point of waking up on any morning
If I'm only going to scream and shout and break something
Does everybody hate me?
Is that why they want me alive?

I wish I knew to be this honest and open
Before it came to this

Last Gash

Due to a few hiccups, my last session with █ happened on the 9th instead of the 10th. I really liked it as usual, spitefully cold central air conditioning and fake windows that can't be opened and all. It's just that, because it was such a hurriedly booked time and place, there had been another therapist and her client that had needed the room immediately after our hour was up, when I specifically and explicitly told █ that I most likely will go overtime. I've always found it strange how psychotherapy at IMH gives you the full and exact hour of therapy, instead of something like 50 minutes, so that the therapist can finish writing notes, keying in entries into the computer, or maybe even having a sip of water and taking a piss in between clients. It's a tightly packed system that just breeds bleed overs, so, you can sorta imagine an 8-9 session bleeding five minutes, the 9-10 session another 5, and by the time the 10-11 patient arrives they may have to wait ten minutes before their session starts, for example. I've had to wait near 20 minutes one time and I was even wondering "did I get the time and/ or date wrong?!" in typical post trauma oversensitive paranoia, even if the damn receipt, my appointment card and my phone with online synced date and time were staring me in my face.

Wow Jesus that rant came out of nowhere. Honestly, an hour doesn't feel nearly enough for me personally, most of the time. I'd suggest they book 1.5 hour session with a half hour break after for the therapists, but the waiting times for therapy is already insane enough on its own as it is now. Heh, goes to show how fucked up the world we live in is, eh? Eyyy, I managed to squeeze that in somehow!

When █ called me to inform me of the change, I specifically told her I might need more than an hour, because I highly suspect I would be bawling my eyes out at the end. Not to mention, we even had plans to write a whole improv story together, which in itself might take up the whole hour, not to mention I had great news to share with her regarding me joining an Iaido class and the accompanying gashing that comes with it. I know it's not fair, strictly speaking, but I feel like I deserved just a little bit of goodwill after losing my fucking therapist and one of my very few support pillars in my life. I just feel that being rushed out the door was in extremely poor taste, okay? They even had someone phone the room at about 10:05 to rush us out. It's sort of like rushing someone out of a funeral because the void deck needed to host an auction, or something. I know I only paid for an hour, but... times like these where I feel a little leniency, goodwill, and flexibility would've gone a long way. Not gonna lie, it still leaves a bitter taste in my mouth even today.

As a result, the story we were writing and just starting to get into was rushed into a limp dick ending, and it shows. And this was going to be my final memento of the woman that meant the world to me. Most egregious of all is that I wasn't given the time to properly mourn the loss. I couldn't even properly get into the quiet, slow, deliberate mood to properly process the loss and grieve. We parted ways like two friends on the street at the end of the day, believe it or not. I didn't get to say all that I needed to. I didn't get the time to cry... nothing.

As if the loss itself wasn't hard enough to swallow on its own, now I'm entirely pissed off as icing on the cake.

As we were leaving the room, █ quickly asked me, "how are you feeling?", as if I had the time to give her a proper answer, which could be extrapolated into, "as if it fucking matters how I feel". I just told her, "it will come later". And, surprisingly, it was a lot later than I had expected. I had expected to start bawling uncontrollably when taking a shit in the toilet next to the psychotherapy centre immediately after. It didn't come. I thought I might bawl in bed. It didn't come. I waited and waited and waited, but it just would not come. I might have been in some sort of denial for a few days, because it all felt so normal, too normal, because I wasn't given the fucking chance to let sink in that █ is leaving me forever. Yeah, I'll tell her that next session. I'll tell her first thing so I don't forget. There's going to be a next session. There always is. █ is an integral part of my life and sanity.

On a Sunday night/ Monday morning, it came. Rather unexpectedly actually. And it came with Linkin Park's song, Faint.

Linkin Park - Faint

I am a little bit of loneliness, a little bit of disregard
Handful of complaints but I can't help the fact
That everyone can see these scars
I am what I want you to want, what I want you to feel
But it's like no matter what I do, I can't convince you
To just believe this is real
So I let go watching you turn your back like you always do
Face away and pretend I'm not
But I'll be here 'cause you're all that I've got

I can't feel the way I did before
Don't turn your back on me
I won't be ignored
Time won't heal this damage anymore
Don't turn your back on me I won't be ignored

I am a little bit insecure, a little unconfident
'Cause you don't understand I do what I can
But sometimes I don't make sense
I am what you never want to say, but I've never had a doubt
It's like no matter what I do I can't convince you for once just to hear me out
So I let go watching you turn your back like you always do
Face away and pretend I'm not
But I'll be here 'cause you're all that I've got

I can't feel the way I did before
Don't turn your back on me
I won't be ignored
Time won't heal this damage anymore
Don't turn your back on me I won't be ignored

You hear me out now
You're gonna listen to me like it or not
Right now, hear me out now
You're gonna listen to me like it or not
Right now

I can't feel the way I did before
Don't turn your back on me
I won't be ignored

I can't feel the way I did before
Don't turn your back on me
I won't be ignored
Time won't heal this damage anymore
Don't turn your back on me I won't be ignored
I can't feel
Don't turn your back on me
I won't be ignored
Time won't heal
Don't turn your back on me I won't be ignored

--------------------------------------

I lament it but I hardly do a damn thing about it; I don't spend nearly enough time listening to music. I don't mean listening to music in restaurants, in events, in parties, or on the radio. I don't even mean listening to music in my personal playlist on the way to work in a train because there's literally nothing else to do kind of listen. I mean setting aside time to do nothing but listen to music. To properly give yourself the time and space to really immerse yourself into the music and let it move you. To allow yourself the chance to really feel the flow and ponder the meaning of the lyrics and life as a whole.

I recently downloaded the discography of Linkin Park, not because I'm interested in everything they do, but because there's this one obscure song that I can't find elsewhere, "My December". It's been a proper long while since I've been this moved by a song, and maybe that's because I haven't needed this sort of "music therapy" for a while. It only comes with the Japanese edition of their first album, Hybrid Theory. I know it's an old ass song, but it hits right at home for me right now, right down to the timing of it. I really like some of Linkin Park's works, and as god awful a thing to say as it must come across normally, I really look up to and admire the lead singer Chester Bennington, for not only being able to turn the shittiest of emotions into something that can genuinely make others' lives feel less alone, confusing, and shitty, but he had the balls to do what he kept saying he would: commit suicide. I love how it's the one slow ass song in the whole album, yet it doesn't feel completely alien and disjointed from their usual style; in fact, it all feels very familiar in spite of being so different. Even though the pacing and instrumentals are slow, the disc scratching wavering in the background, the slow rapping, makes it feel right at home with me, who's loved Linkin Park songs for longer than he can remember. It felt so different, but no less sincere. In fact, if anything, because it doesn't need to scream for the sake of screaming, or rhyme for the sake of excessive rapping, it felt a lot more honest to me. I love this song to bits and pieces. I really do.

Anyway, it's when I was looking through the discography that I just, for no real reason whatsoever, listened to a live performance of "Faint", a song from their second, and IMO best, album, "Meteora". It's a shockingly short song at less than three minutes, but it gets its message across loud, clear, concisely and decisively in those three minutes. It's a very aggressive, angry, in your face rap and scream affair as is most Linkin Park songs, but in that screaming, I hear and feel a very scared and lost child, in spite of how manly it feels. It's just one of those very magically inviting songs that I can't help but to sing/ scream along whenever it plays. And on that Sunday night, I screamed along silently to it, and I found myself finally crying after waiting so long for it.

"Face away and pretend that I'm not, but I'll be here because you're all that I've got." "Time won't heal this damage anymore. Don't turn your back on me, I won't be ignored." It's so magical how strong and manly these few lines in particular sound, especially with Chester's delivery, yet these words by themselves are so... vulnerable. Scared. Lost. Desperate. And the verses each build up so spectacularly to it. I just don't have the words for it. I cried. Maybe only a little, but I cried nonetheless. I've never cried listening to a song before, and this seems like a mighty odd choice to be the first.

I then find out later that, in the rush to leave, █ neglected to let me fill out a Questionnaire. It's the usual, standard depression questionnaire thing, which I'm sure has a proper name that I'm too lazy to look up. It was precisely in my much needed moment of grieving that I opened up my personal email and saw the messages from █, one on the Thursday itself, and one this past Monday. To be honest, that really pissed me off too. Then again, given my mood the past 4 and a half days that I've been █less, that's not exactly saying much. I spent all this time telling myself it's over and that I'll never ever see her again. I've fought against denial, longing, anger, sadness, everything, for the sole and explicit reason that she will no longer be a part of my life, so her suddenly popping up, even in a brief email, really set me off. I feel played, even though I know it's not suuuuper her fault. I'm not the kind of person to give someone a hard time over normal, everyday mistakes, but this one really did push my buttons, especially because I already have a hard enough time dealing with loss. Look, I'm not in the best of shape right now, okay? It doesn't take a trained psychologist to tell. At this stage I don't even know how long it'll be until I'm ready to look for a job again, or if I ever will feel ready to. I've written like, three proses in the span of four days, which has got to be a new world record or something, or at least, a personal one. I've... never been so... distraught, yet this sound of mind before. This is all an exercise in the extremely sterilised and healthy break-up, and I'm still not very sure what to make of it, and my reaction to it as I'm living through it right now.

The improv story I proposed we co-author was pretty limp dick because it was rushed. It had moments of brilliance in it, and █ wasn't skimping on effort, either. It's wholly the time constraint that made the story a small fraction of what I had hoped it could be.

And, you know, maybe it's my fault. Maybe it's my fault for being a dumbass and needing so many hours and sessions to just learn how to say goodbye like a normal person. Maybe it's my fault I've had a shit childhood and upbringing that made me overly sensitive to people leaving me. Maybe it's my fault that I couldn't fix myself in the near two years I've been seeing her. Maybe it's my own dumbass fault that I couldn't come up with a memento activity until the second last session I had with █. Maybe it's my dumbass fault for taking so long to join Iaido. All my fucking fault.

No, of course I don't believe it's my fucking fault. I'm just angry and I need to shout a little, if only in writing.

I have underwent such a profound level of healing in my 20 months (?) with █. Before I met her, I was getting bounced around by mental health professionals, who kept insisting that I take pills that don't magically make me happy, some of whom were appallingly unprofessional and complacent. Can you fucking imagine walking into a mental health institute, telling the receptionist as best as you can that you would hurt someone if you went to work next morning, and that you desperately needed someone to talk to, only to get tossed into this room with a "psychiatrist" sitting so slumped in his chair both his feet are poking through the desk in front of you? Wearing SLIPPERS. Insisting on calling and informing your family despite strong resistance from the fucking patient, whose best interests I could've goddamned sworn you were supposed to serve as long as you weren't being a threat to others or yourself. Whose response was to prescribe generic ass antidepressants and tell you to report back a month later after you pour your fucking heart out. THAT was how low my experiences with mental health professionals had sunk prior to meeting █. At that point, I really didn't care what it took to make the pain go away, be it meds, psychotherapy, or suicide. I didn't know what the hell I needed to feel better, and neither did these professionals, who are professionals only in the strictest definition of the word: making a living off worsening others' misery and sullying the name of an all too important service.

You can then hopefully imagine my hopes and mindset when I had my first session with █. I had expected more of the same rubbish. But she listened. She took in what I said. Her face visibly contorts with pain when I lay it on her. I felt listened to and understood. I felt cared for. And, no matter how doom and gloom I had been walking into every session with her, she always had a way to make me laugh at least once a session, without making me feel belittled. She gave real insight and advice. She points out tendencies and emotions I unknowingly suppress, and wants to know why I feel the way I do. She encourages me, recognises and points out my merits, and isn't biased enough to let my bullshit slide. She is someone who genuinely has my best interests at heart, going so far as to tell me that IMH waiting times are insanely long, and that, if I weren't deserving or needing of her help like I kept fearing, she would tell me to save my money and fuck off. I cannot sing enough praise about her, I really cannot. I sincerely believe that she is a treasure of humanity that deserves to be protected at all costs and learned from at every opportunity. I believe any person or any organisation, in any position, in any capacity, would be lucky beyond belief to have her in their lives. I sincerely believe every hyperbole I type about her. And maybe she does have her own flaws, but the nature of our relationship is such that I never get to see them, and so I end up with a very idolised image of her in my head, but it doesn't mean that my time, my experience with her, means any less than the hyperbolic miracle to me.

Gosh I started to gash about her again. Where the fuck was I even going with this again? Oh, right. Now I remember.

Despite the endless heaps of praise I cannot finish lauding her with, I don't think I will ever seek professional mental help ever again in my life, through no fault of █'s, or even the rather bimbotic systems that she used to work for. This, and I mean this wholly, is a fault that is entirely of my own. I definitely need a non-judgmental listening, understanding ear. A shoulder to cry on. An unbiased insight, yet assuredly through her words and actions, have my best interests at heart. Someone to support me morally and hold me to my progress. I believe to some degree every human being needs that in their lives, mentally ill or not. It's just that I am unbelievably and bafflingly bad at boundaries in relationships. I am a very extreme person in the sense that I am either wholly uninvested, or fully in, with no in-betweens. If I were to have to trust and rely on someone to the degree that makes therapy a fruitful relationship, that person had better be my fucking wife. I will love her. I will never ever want to let them go. Selfish? Sure. But I also think it's just human nature. How could anyone in good conscience let someone who means this much go? The deprived me certainly can't.

And see, that's the thing. I feel like I need something way bigger than what therapy can give me, and to only have part of something I want hurts me like hell. I can't really draw a direct comparison to having a part of something you want versus having none of it at all in terms of the pain levels, but what I can say with absolute certainty is that I can deal with the pain of the latter better. If I am at my wit's and will's end and contemplating taking my own life, I don't want to have thoughts of someone who cares about me being devastated if I die. The same someone who I know would and could talk me out of taking my own life, but I can't call because I didn't have an appointment with her, and she has her own life to attend to. Someone whose number I can't have, someone who can't even be friends with me after therapy ends because she could lose her license if she did. I don't want to ever be stuck in that limbo again. I don't want to ever second guess myself anymore if I ever find myself at the precipice. If someone were to care for me, then they had better goddamned drop any and everything they're doing to rush to my side when I'm at my worst. If someone were to care for me, they had better not set a clock app to an hour and lay it on the table as we begin talking. I know this is all very fucking selfish, but this is what I want, and I would do the same for anyone else I loved.

I guess, what I'm trying to say is, I don't need a therapist. I need a wife. Someone whose best interests are my own well being. Because as I've found out, no matter how genuine and overflowing the care and concern a therapist can shower you with, you are always "just" a client, and their own lives, their own happiness, will always take priority over your own, and rightfully so I must add. I just can't bear the thought and feeling of not being top priority. I know this is all crazy, selfish speak, but this is how I feel goddamnit. And I want to express it. To someone who wouldn't judge. To someone who'd listen and try to understand. To someone that would remember. To █. I am still broken.  I am still a mess. And I just don't want anyone else to leave me anymore. I am lost, I am angry, I am sad, I am confused, just by being alive, just for being alive. All these emotions would be quarantined if █ were here with me, for me. And maybe these are all emotions that are better off solved than quarantined, but I can't do this on my own either way.

Thoughts on Sword and Shield

Pokémon Sword and Shield. I don't even know how to begin penning down my thoughts on this pair of games, because I feel that they have so much context that contributes to their beings even before they launched, and as such, make them very difficult to objectively judge based on their merits and shortcomings alone. Therefore, I'm here moreso to write about my expectations and experience with Pokémon Sword more than writing an informative review on it. I will try to remain as spoiler free as I can in the process, but I do want to analyse some of the mechanics of the new features in the game in greater detail, so if you consider this spoiler material, you have been warned.

Pokémon Sword and Shield are the first pair of mainline games to head to Nintendo's lightning in a bottle system, the Nintendo Switch, not counting Pokémon Let's Go Pikachu and Eevee, because... urgh, those "games". Let's just leave it at that, shall we? Easily the biggest news since the reveal of these games is cut content: specifically, some 450 of about 800 Pokémon from the previous seven generations of Pokémon games were to be excluded from Sword and Shield, and hoo boy, if you weren't a "gamer" that's familiar with the internet, I don't even know how to aptly describe the anger and backlash of the internet at the news. There were petitions, polls, crying, whining, and straight up death threats to the director of the series, Masuda Junichi, so much so that the launch event for the games had to be cancelled in Japan; the first time in the series' 23 year history.

I bring this up not to insult your intelligence; because if you're even remotely interested in video games and Pokémon in general, backlash of this magnitude is impossible to miss. I bring it up because I believe that a lot of the general critique of the game stems from a deep seeded desire to hate the game, and thus most widespread criticism feel to me like excuses to feed the hatred, rather than genuine complaints. A tree's texture looking bad in the overworld? Boycott! The all new options to adjust sound volume for the background music, sound effects, and Pokémon cries are unlocked only after you get a Key Item early on in the game? Worst game of the year! So, just keep in mind that the general reception to these games aren't that favourable as we delve into the nitty gritty of the game.

I mean, seriously, who the fuck plays Pokémon for photorealistic, cutting edge graphics? Fucking morons, seriously. This tree looks fine!

Me personally, I welcomed the change, even though it does mean that I do suffer the loss of some of my favourite Pokémon I've come to know, love, and adventure with over several years. As a (somewhat) competitive player, I've always felt like the series has been needing a serious reset button, a slate wiped clean. With 23 years of evolution also comes 23 years of mistakes and bullshit, ones which never go away because Pokémon has made a serious commitment to inclusion ever since a similar debacle in the transition from Generation 2 to 3. This also means that the series has never had any serious innovation, any serious change to the formulae ever since the launch of Ruby and Sapphire all the way back in 2003. That's right: the basic way to calculate what stats your Pokémon have, how much they increase and decrease with modifiers in battle, etc., remains unchanged to this day. Because Ruby and Sapphire wiped the slate clean, they were able to expand on a familiar concept. They were able to introduce game changing elements such as abilities and hold items. They were able to introduce Double Battles. They even had some wizardry in Hidden Power, a move that could be of any type based on... things. All of these HUGE features continue to be a cornerstone of Pokémon, be it casual or competitive, so much so that the series struggles to break away from them. And with the fundamentals so firmly set in stone, the series has taken what I deem to be the cheap way out into making more enticing Pokémon in later generations: power creep. With each generation, the Pokémon they introduced and updated got more and more ridiculous in terms of power, and one needs only to look at Smogon's banlist for standard play over the generations to realise just how apeshit insane and fundamentally unbalanced the game is. Used to be that banlists were as simple as, "no cover legendaries". Then it was that and "no Garchomp and Salamence". Then it was "no Speed Boost, no Soul Dew, no Swift Swim + Drizzle". Then it was "no these Mega Evolutions, no Baton Passing speed, no..." you get the point. It was at such a clusterfuck that it was affecting the enjoyment I could get out of the games, but also how difficult it must've been for newcomers to adapt and learn the ropes, to absorb some 15 years of evolution and its assorted BS that it was inextricably packaged with. And the old formulae and systems that governed the game were visibly struggling to keep up with all the craziness. For example, almost all Pokémon who can change form or do what they advertise on the tin do so via their Ability, and to ensure these Pokémon can always perform as advertised, these abilities are immune to neutralisation with stuff like Worry Seed, Skill Swap, etc.. You thought you were super clever in trying to prevent an Aegislash from flip flopping between its two forms with Worry Seed? TOO BAD! U DED. Or how about the fact that you couldn't have Hidden Power Fairy, the new type introduced in Gen 6, because it would require rewriting how Hidden Power types are determined, and break every Pokémon carrying the move in the process?

So when Generation 8 seemed to wipe the slate cleaned again, I was actually excited for some Ruby and Sapphire levels of mind fuckery and innovation. Unfortunately, it wasn't quite that. In fact, it was exactly more of the same, except now with less Pokémon to play with. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing, because culling the cancerous of the breed is still a plus in my book. It's just that it doesn't bring much new to the table, aside from the obligatory new species of Pokémon. Yes, Dynamaxing and Gigantamaxing is/ are the shiny new feature(s) to Gen 8 (they're basically the same thing let's be real), but they seem more to me like the combination of the Mega Evolution and Z-moves that were cut from the series rather than something entirely new. I still have no way to explain to my casual player cousins and friends why the hell Psychic hits Poison super effectively, or why Bug resists fighting. The game and its mechanics I feel are still no easier to learn from previous generations for newcomers, the same games that emphasise a rock paper scissors style of gameplay, the fire water grass thing, the chuck a rock at a bird and it will die sort of intuitive gameplay. In fact, some of the most bullshit, infuriating mechanics I had hoped with all of my heart to be cut from the series were in fact, still proudly shown off as selling points in the game pre-launch: confusion and infatuation. Yes, Double Team and Minimise are still in the game and are unchanged in function. Yes, bullshit, luck dependent items that can totally destroy a skilled player in the hands of a filthy casual like Bright Powder and Quick Claw are still present and unchanged. Yes, you can still get Quick Claw Horn Drilled in the Battle Tower, or miss a perfectly accurate move with no counter play or foreshadowing.

But, you know what, my favourite Pokémon, Glaceon, finally got Freeze Dry, so I guess I can't be too too ma- ARRRGH *gets hit with a Quick Claw Fissure out of nowhere after I miss an Ice Beam*

All that competitive nerd speak aside, how does Sword and Shield hold up as a single player RPG? I feel it's... okay. Like, it's serviceable, but not amazing, yet at the same time, not awful. It's a very traditionally safe, fit for general consumption, kid friendly product Pokémon tries to be, and there just isn't much else to say aside from that. I think that so many people gravitate towards Generation 2 and its Johto region is because it was so chock full of personality that so closely parallels its real world inspiration; Kyoto of Japan. The Galar region of Generation 8 is, interestingly enough, based off of England, but I never feel like I'm in some exotic, foreign land with its own mystique, customs, and way of life, even if the setting does look the part. I've never been to England before myself, so I can't speak with any expertise on the matter, but the whole "we're in ENGLAND dayo!" feel is only conveyed via the grating overuse of the word, "mate", by the super annoying childish rival you have in the game, and the occasional mentions of tea you'll never have. There's never much distinction between each town and city in Galar, aside from maybe a few aesthetic differences. There's no back story, there are no unique customs or culture to each area, and the towns themselves, while each impressively wide and sprawling beyond what could've been reasonably expected of Pokémon games even just one generation ago, are mostly empty spaces with little to do and see in between. Remember Lumiose City in XY? Mauville City in ORAS? Now imagine cities of that massive scope, but applied to every urban town in the game instead of just one. It's a technological marvel to be sure, but mostly hollow and skin deep in essence, which I find a crying shame. If anything, it just makes traversing between landmarks in any given city longer than it needs to be. Instead of intriguing, memorable locales, towns in Sword and Shield can be boiled down to, "arrive, bop the local gym, leave".

Strange as it may sound, the first thing that comes to my mind when talking about British culture and flavour is their snark sarcasm, which I imagine is difficult to fit into a family friendly game, and impossible to express in text alone. Speaking of impossible, that conveniently brings me to the plot of Sword and Shield. The overall plot of Sword and Shield feels cobbled together from the broken dreams of XY, just like how the Z-moves of Sun and Moon feel cobbled together from the broken dreams of XY. Here however, what's rather disjointing is that, for the vast majority of the game, there IS no villainous team or person threatening the status quo; the villainous entity just shows up, pulls a legendary Pokémon out of his ass - sorry, arse, and leaves just as abruptly with as much resolution and satisfaction as a depleted toilet roll in a time of need. Rather, the plot is focused on the character development of the two or so characters you'll constantly bump into over the course of your adventure, which I don't find issue with; in fact, I find it an intriguing change, but I felt that more emphasis was due on the villianous entity, and I feel like that was the price to pay for the rather well done plot centering around the individual characters.

In fact, I daresay that Sword and Shield are the first Pokémon games that sets a firm first impression for me on a character, only to slowly erode away and change that expectation it has sowed in me. I know it sounds incredibly basic, but this is still mind blowing to me, in the context of a plot in a Pokémon game, as they usually have one character/ agenda and stick with it regardless of what happens over the course of the game. Blue is always going to be a jackass. Team Rocket will always be evil for the sake of it. Team Aqua and Magma are ass clowns. Cyrus is... weird. N is by far and away the best character in a Pokémon game and I am still waiting for someone else to come along and challenge him for that title. The Team Flare boss whose name I don't even remember is in an unfinished game and is as compelling as a math textbook sawn in half. Team Skull is... uh... there, I guess? But the rival in Sword and Shield, and his journey, is something I actually feel compassion and interest in, and dare I say, emotionally invested in, which is more than the, "you're in the fucking way and I need to clobber you to advance the plot" type of fights as is with previous games and their characters. Now, the reason why I bring up the plot right after I mention, "impossible to pull off", is because... well... how do you write a compelling plot around an invincible, all conquering powerhouse of a person, devoid of any character? That character being you, the player? In my opinion, you can't. And I find it such a shame that, no matter how beautiful a garden the plot is tending, I will be asked to trample all over it, cheapening and disregarding all of the hard work. I feel bad for the other characters. I relate to some of their struggles. But at the same time, it's so hard to sympathise with the plight of someone else when they ask you for a battle and you 6-0 them in five turns flat, you know? I've personally felt like there were some really good moments during the plot of Sword and Shield, ruined by the fact that I need to destroy all the weight and atmosphere of the moment by pulverising someone in a battle. Maybe if I ever felt mildly threatened in every in-game battle, the plot would have worked. But the simple fact of the matter is that, as a competitive player familiar with the mechanics of the game, who makes sure he fully explores what he can before confronting a boss, that difficulty is just never going to be there. And if it were, it would be unfairly hard for a more casual player. I know it's an insane ask to balance gameplay between these two very different groups of players, and I'm not asking for a change, but moreso lamenting my... uh... cold, power hungry heart that has given up on seeing Pokémon as individual living creatures, but more just easily editable code to beat the shit out of others.

With all my criticism about the battle mechanics and the plot, it's safe to say that the vast majority of the enjoyment I get out of this game comes from the... uh... gameplay, of the game... Bah, you come up with a better term for it after I'm done describing it if you're so smart. One of the new gameplay features proudly shown off before launch was Pokémon Camp: a mini-game akin to that of Poké Amie of XY where you touch your Pokémon and play with them to gain their affection. Yes, it's about as enticing as it sounds on paper. However, Pokémon Camp isn't a replacement to Amie, but rather, adapts the gameplay of Amie and integrates it into its own unique feature. Yes, you still get to touch your sweet lil' Pikachu all over its body in 3D and play with balls. Yes heart shapes still float out their arse when they hang on for dear life in battle wishing for praise you can never give them. Yes they still do the stupid head turn and hop and spawn cheesy text that only serves to waste time in every battle. But what I love about Pokémon Camp is that it serves as a less expensive and more entertaining way to heal your Pokémon mid journey between towns: cooking a pot of curry at camp, if done well, is akin to a visit to the Pokémon Centre because it fully heals your party, and ingredients for cooking can be found respawning in the overworld, which makes them more economical than spraying a Hyper Potion into the eyes of your Pokémon. Yes, okay, maybe with Fly, it's actually more time consuming than actually visiting a Pokémon Centre. But Camp I find is a nice distraction, a way to punctuate the monotony of kicking NPC ass and getting whittled down in the process, by letting you have a more involved and entertaining way to heal your Pokémon other than mashing the A button in the PokéCentre for the millionth time. There is a curry dex to fill up as you experiment with different ingredients to further incentivise cooking, but the curry dex is, sadly, a rather shallow and meaningless list only meant for the obsessive, compulsive completionist with no real reward (as far as I can tell, anyway. I mean, what the hell are golden utensils good for?)

I think what is easily Sword and Shield's strongest feature is the Wild Area, a huge, expansive, all encompassing area that you get access to early game, and remains relevant AND enticing all the way into the post game. Heck, it's so good that the vast majority of my hundred hours of gameplay thus far is spent there, and it makes me genuinely wonder why the hell wasn't the entire game just one huge Wild Area. To understand why the Wild Area is so bloody amazing, it really helps to have played Zelda Breath of the Wild before, because I feel that this game borrows quite heavily from BoTW, and it's most apparent in the Wild Area. The Wild Area is a huge break from tradition from Pokémon games, in that it gives you free reign and free roam over a seemingly boundless area, instead of forcing you to go from A, to B, to C, in that order, preventing you from accessing what the game doesn't want you to access via arbitrary roadblocks. In the Wild Area, that shackled linear experience is (mostly) thrown out the window. Hell, it's so open that on my first playthrough, I was so beWILDered (aha aha aha aha...) by the sheer freedom that was suddenly thrust onto me, that, while I knew WHAT my next destination was, I didn't know WHERE it was. And, you know what, while that might sound like a complaint, it's actually praise, coming from me, because I LOVE the freedom, I LOVE the ambiguity (as long as I'm not rushing to save my family being burned at the stake whilst I'm lost). It has been so long, too long, since I've felt genuine wonder at the world I find myself in. It has been so long, too long, since I've felt like a kid, excited for life and what it brings. It has been eons (well, ever since BoTW anyway) that I have felt such a strong compulsion to explore the world and the limits that govern it, which I feel is something only an interactive medium like games can pull off, yet is so criminally under utilised. Yes, with that freedom also comes with the first sense of threat I've lamented for being generally lacking in the game's storyline, because once the game stops holding your hand, you have every right, every power, and every possibility of wandering into the wrong neighbourhood, to butt heads with strong Pokémon you have no way of handling at any given stage of the game. You always have to be cognizant and observant, and that very welcome sense of threat only adds to and enriches the sense of adventure and wonder to the world I found sorely lacking anywhere else. Yet, at the same time, the obstacles in the way, in this case those strong Pokémon, aren't absolute like a boulder you can't push with your Machamp or a sea you can't cross with your Lapras in previous games; these Pokémon are obscenely overlevelled relative to where you are in the game, but they are still mortal, they still have their weaknesses, and they can still be defeated in theory. And I cannot tell you how insanely satisfying it is when I took down a Rock/ Ground type Onix twice the level of my Water type Sobble with a STAB x4 Super Effective move in the rain, and the Experience Points I got from bopping something twice my level. The roadblocks are essentially enticing challenges rather than to impede your progress, which I feel is an approach more, if not ALL games should adopt. And if Pokémon of all the kid friendly, hand holdy games can pull it off, I have very, VERY high hopes and expectations for the series going forward. Yes, I want the entire game to just be a Wild Area, and I will not accept anything less. I want to be able to sneak my way into and get decimated by the Champion with my Level 5 starter Pokémon, a la Breath of the Wild speedruns. The bar has been set and I frankly see no excuse as to why it couldn't, or shouldn't, be done.

Strangely enough, the Wild Area, perhaps as a testament to how good a concept it is, is the only area in the game where you get to partake in Max Raid battles, a prominent feature shown off pre release that sees you teaming up with three other trainers to battle and capture Dynamaxed Wild Pokémon. This feature is... urgh. I like the concept, but I feel that it could've been done way, WAY better. I find nothing but bullshit and fault with these battles, because it's all so arbitrary and unfair, both adjectives you should never find yourself describing a game with, let alone used together. Max Raid battles are, by no counts exaggerating, sheer, unadulterated, unapologetic, pure bullshit. The basic premise of these Max Raid battles is that you have a turn limit of 10 turns, and a KO limit of 4 on your side of the field, averaging to each player's Pokémon fainting once. So, time is of the essence, and so is surviving. The logical, fair parts end here. Wild Pokémon here can launch multiple attacks in a row. Why? Because. Wild Pokémon can use their regular moves in addition to the Max moves Dynamaxed Pokémon are restricted to. Why? Because. Wild Pokémon here have way more than 4 moves to work with. Why? Because. Wild Pokémon here have their HP bars divided into 2 or 3 in the higher difficulty Raids, and no matter how strong your Pokémon are, you cannot deal damage that eats into the next HP bar. Why? Because. When wild Pokémon hits this invisible cap on their HP bar, they employ a "mysterious barrier" to protect themselves. Why? Because. This mysterious barrier takes only 1HP damage of possibly SEVEN I've seen with any attack, regardless of effectiveness or strength. Why? Because. Multi hit moves like Icicle Spear only takes 1 shield HP per turn instead of working as advertised. Why? Because. The mysterious barrier, if left intact at the end of the turn, fully heals all non volatile status conditions like sleep and paralysis, yet not volatile ones like confusion and infatuation, completely throwing strategy out the window. Why? Because. The shield blocks all stat drops and status effects while it's active. Why? Because. The shield prevents Max moves from triggering their secondary effects, like preventing Max Geyser's rain even if it successfully inflicts damage, but doesn't prevent normal moves' secondary effects like Flame Charge's speed boost. Why? Because. Wild Pokémon here can just decide to reset your stat changes and nullify abilities on your side of the field at no cost whatsoever, further cementing that you really shouldn't bother to do anything but attack. Why? Because. Ally Pokémon that faint and contribute to the KO count revive after one turn. Why? Just so they can add to the KO count again and get you kicked out.

Now that all the cards are on the table, please allow me the pleasure of sharing the absolute worst experience I've had with Max Raid battles: It was against a 5 star Obstagoon, the evolution of Galarian Linoone, and of a Dark/ Normal type. Being a 5 star Pokémon, its HP bar is divided into three thirds, calling in a shield to protect it when switching over to its next HP bar. For some dog shit reason I can't fathom, its shield has SEVEN HP, requiring seven hits to break, or, in the best case scenario, 2 Max hits and 3 regular attacks in 2 turns. It has the Defiant Ability, which raises its attack stat 2 stages each time it receives a stat drop, adding 100% to its attack. Oh, by the way, the shield breaking harshly lowers its Defence and Special Defence, which instantly gives it +4 Attack due to Defiant, or 3x its Attack stat. It has a signature move in Obstruct, which functions as a protect that harshly lowers the Defence of any Pokémon that makes contact with it while Obstruct is in effect. As a protecting move, it has +4 priority. As a Max Raid opponent, it can use several moves in a row. So imagine this: it's using priority Obstruct that protects it for the whole turn, and can use 2 or 3 moves immediately after, effectively making all its moves +4 priority while it's completely fucking invincible with a 10 turn limit. Now, protecting moves usually have a severe chance of failing if used in succession, but because it follows up Obstruct with other moves, it can protect itself at no risk and no cost EACH. AND. EVERY. TURN. I'm sorry, but what the fuck is this bullshit, and how am I supposed to beat it?

If you've been paying attention to my nerdy rant thus far, you might be wondering, "well, if there's no point in crippling the opponent with status, and if there's no point in setting up buffs for myself, then what else am I to do but attack?", and you'd be exactly right in that thought. Max Raid battles in essence boil down to: sit here and click attacks until the battle ends one way or another. A huge disservice to the sheer complexity and strategy focused gameplay of Pokémon. About the only non damaging move you might even remotely want to consider are Reflect, Light Screen, Aurora Veil, and... Attract. What I find extremely infuriating is that, if you're the kid that nobody wants to play with in school, if you're the nerd that's into hobbies nobody else is into, then you're shit out of luck with Max Raid battles that involve 4 players. That's not to say you CAN'T play Max Raid single player, but what I'm trying to say is... you can't play Max Raid single player. See, if playing alone, the game assigns three other NPCs to "help" you fight the opponent, but most of the time, they do absolutely nothing but die, contribute to the KO count, revive, and die again. Most of the time they're woefully underlevelled for the monstrosities you're trying to face, and deal negligible damage, if even at all. They are also pulled randomly from a preset pool of trainers, without regard for typing, so you can very well get an ass clown who brings a Fire/ Poison type in Salazzle to face off against a Gigantamax Water/ Rock Dreadnaw. Oh, and by the way, NONE OF THESE AI FREAKS CAN DYNAMAX. These ass clowns are so infuriating that it's no stretch to say that you'd be better off alone, even with how bullshit Max Raid battles already are. It makes me want to stab them in front of their Pokémon each and every time we cross paths.

It's unfortunate, but given how bullshit single player Max Raid battles are, it makes online Max Raid battles seem... evil, just by proxy. That's because online play on the Switch is now a paid for service, in contrast to online play on the Nintendo DS and 3DS, both of which were absolutely free of charge. Now, I'm not saying that paid online services are evil, but in the context of Max Raid battles, it can be easily viewed as the player being forced to pay to win these Max Raid battles, which I am strongly against in any game, with any context. I used up my free 7 Day Nintendo Online trial on this game, and even then, I can't say I'm impressed one bit: the servers were overloaded at launch and had to undergo emergency maintenance OVER THE WEEKEND. Maybe the bean counters over at Nintendo actually took the boycott threats seriously, HA! Even with functioning online play though, the experience is... retarded. To illustrate, here, take a screenshot with your Switch. Doesn't have to be of anything specific, doesn't even have to be with Sword and Shield. Just a screenshot you can identify will do. Now try to export that screenshot onto your computer. Go on, give it a try. I'll wait the full seven years for you to figure it out.

......

Done? I take it that you've had the customary experience of screaming at your Switch and wondering why the hell no one at Nintendo can design an easy to understand menu. The same carries over to Sword and Shield. I swear, even with the shoddy early release "guides" on the internet, I could not for the life of me figure out how in the HELL to join others when they're seeking partners for Max Raid battles. And that goes a LONG way in explaining why no one ever joins me when I host a Max Raid open invitation, because I imagine no one even saw the damn thing. Each invitation lasts only for three minutes, and it takes about 30 seconds to join and select an appropriate Pokémon for the opponent at each instance. The problem is that the system that lists these open invites refreshes like, what, once every three minutes? Instead of every three SECONDS for a system like this to function well. That means you need to know exactly when the list will refresh, and send an invite just before the list will refresh for everyone, and from there you can only sit there and stare at a lobby screen for three minutes, unable to do anything else, with no guarantee of finding anyone (competent). Scintillating. If you want to join others, it's also much of the same story. Annoyingly and ironically I'm aware, lobbies other host, especially of extremely rare and high value targets, get filled in SECONDS. If you want to join someone hosting a Five Star Ditto or an extremely rare Gigantamax Pokémon, you will literally, not exaggerating, need to sit in the menu screen and hit refresh rapidly until the list ACTUALLY refreshes. You'll then need to quickly sift through all that's present on the list, and join the lobby with the Pokémon you want to catch. Even when doing this, there's still no guarantee you'll make it into the lobby before it fills, in which case you're stuck looking at lobbies you can't join for another solid three minutes. This system is fucking appalling, and it's genuinely baffling how you can take a game with SUCH a wide player base; enough to give your servers grief, and do such a piss poor job at bringing them together. A fucking blender would've done a better job at this, and I'm not even sure how sarcastic I'm being with this sentence.

Oh, and by the way, you want to know how rare are these "high value" targets I mentioned earlier? You can only get Gigantamax Pokémon in these Max Raid battles. Gigantamax Pokémon have special forms when they Dynamax - or in their case, Gigantamax, and have a special G-Max move only Gigantamaxed Pokémon in their Gigantamaxed forms can use. No other Pokémon, even of the same species, can Gigantamax, and there's no way to "teach" or otherwise impart the ability to Gigantamax to a Pokémon that cannot do so. Gigantamax Pokémon cannot breed AT ALL, even if they have genders, so you can't mass produce them once you've been lucky enough to catch one. I will say this again because it bears repeating: you can only get Gigantamax Pokémon from Max Raid battles, so you're stuck having to deal with all the assorted bullshit it comes packaged with. How rare are these Gigantamax Pokémon? Well, when you come across a "Den" in the overworld, there is a 10% chance of the den pulling from its unique list of "rare" encounters. In the post game, "rare" encounters range from three to five stars, with five having 4 guaranteed max IVs and are almost always the fully evolved forms of their evolutionary lines, and quite a decent shot at having their Hidden Ability as well. Gigantamax Pokémon are all five star encounters, and even within the list of possible 5 star encounters, they have... wait for it... a 5% chance of appearing.

So, to quickly crunch the numbers with my sawn-off math textbook, the probability of you using a paid for Wishing Piece to initiate a Max Raid battle are:

Rare Den: 1 in 10 chance, *0.1
Five Stars Encounter, 1 in 3 chance, *~0.33
G-Max Encounter, 1 in 20 chance, *0.05

0.1*0.33*0.05
=~0.00166%

To put it in English, you have a less than 1 percent chance of encountering a Gigantamax Pokémon each time you initiate a Max Raid battle. You have a one in SIX HUNDRED chance of-... okay I'll stop trying to sound smart, because I have no idea how the hell to calculate probability. Oh, and each Wishing Piece costs in game currency, so in effect, you're gambling for a CHANCE to catch a rare Pokémon. No, you don't get to soft reset for the mon you want, because one: Sword and Shield HAS NO SOFT RESET WHAT BLASPHEMY IS THIS, and two, the game mandates saving with each Wishing Piece use. Like, hello, they don't even mandate saving in the FUCKING BATTLE TOWER anymore, and THIS is what they mandate saving over instead. Oh, and you know how regular Max Raid battles have ridiculously high rates, considering you have to fully defeat the Pokémon you're trying to catch? Yeah, well, G-Max mons DON'T GIVE A SHIT EVEN IF THEY'RE DEAD, and will happily break out of any ball you chuck at it, even Dusk Balls, which I'm not even sure have their 4x catch rate in these dens. So, you spend all the money gambling, you spend all the time in trying to get this damned thing to show up, you carry your AI partners better than Noah's Ark on four heavy lift choppers, you wade through all the bullshit of a Max Raid battle and you kill the damn thing, aaaaand... your ball doesn't even rock once before the Pokémon gives you the finger and flees. Yes, you only get ONE SHOT at catching it. ONE.

I'm sorry, but I'm supposed to find this fun?! For real?

I don't know. I'm so legitimately confused. I seem to dislike and find underwhelming most of the things in Sword and Shield, and yet, I find them to be the most enjoyable in the series to date. Maybe it's because I've long since outgrown Pokémon, but I struggle to see why even a casual player would be inclined to stick around for long. I don't understand why so many people are heartbroken that their friends for ten years can't join them in Sword and Shield, and I wish I could share in that sentiment. All I see is competitive Pokémon, and even that is in fucking shambles, with Dynamax being so broken of a mechanic that Smogon, the only largest unofficial governing body over competitive Pokémon, are having discussions about banning Dynamaxing entirely from standard play. In game battle spot singles are still 3 on 3, chosen from a list of 6 each, and in the context of a 3 turn Dynamax, I find utterly ridiculous. Battle Tower even now allows legendaries to take part in, allowing anyone of any skill level to utterly decimate the Battle Tower, especially now that you can sof- I mean, hard reset for a streak if you're so inclined. Opponents in the Tower so rarely Dynamax that I think I've only seen the non-boss AI do it twice in my streak of 70 thus far. The boss will always Dynamax the same Pokémon like it's their dedicated Mega Evolution, so alls you need to do is to set up Stealth Rock and forget the battle ever existed.

In spite of all this, I really enjoyed it for the first obsessive week I've played it, but... I don't understand why.

Maybe it's the cute Lass. She's so hot I think of destroying her in bed every time she does this angry pout when she loses and I actually can't handle it.