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[mrballisticsdummy]

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[mrballisticsdummy]

People who do the things I've done?

They don't get to be victims. I've played that card. I'm really good at that card. But it's old and it's worn out and I don't think any amount of swiping is going to make it work for me anymore.

So I'm fine. I'll continue to be fine.

I just lost sight of what's important. Won't happen again. That's what I'm working on.

[epistemological]

No.

I categorically refuse everything you just said. Willing yourself to be fine emotionally is like willing yourself past a- a heart attack: it’s not possible and you’ll probably only do more damage.

Most assholes were once victims. Whether they realize it or not. It doesn’t excuse it, of course, but it also doesn’t change it.

I won’t say I don’t care what you’ve done because I do, but I will say there is a great difference between ‘playing’ a card for your own ends and someone being aware how fucking hard it is to face your own shit.

[mrballisticsdummy]

I blew up a hospital once.

It wasn't empty. And I don't regret it. I honestly forget about it most of the time.

Tell me again why anyone should give a shit when I have a bad day.

I know who and what I am. And, for the most part, it's worked out just fine. Look, I have a plan. Part of that plan is talking about my feelings and all that so this doesn't all pile up like the world's worst traffic jam. I'm not great at it, but I'll do it. You say you want to be there when it happens? Well, baby, you're in luck. Because you're really pissing me off right now.

But don't tell me that anyone actually cares when I'm sad or mad outside of how it affects them.

[epistemological]

[ Very slowly. ]

If you think people’s empathy should not extend to you, then your ‘not thinking about it’ is avoidance. Or repression. Not apathy, however much you wish it was.

[ Faster and a little louder. ]

And yes, actually. I do care if you’re hurting or lost or any of that and not because it might affect me. The fact that I had to be brutalized in the hallway to know about it pisses me off but given I’m about as likely to tell anyone my emotional well-being I can at least understand.

Why am I pissing you off? Because I won’t just let you go on behaving the exact same way you always have expecting a different result? Or is it something else?

[mrballisticsdummy]

[He adopts a higher pitched tone, mimicking an automated voice.] Sorry, you've reached the limit for this call. Try again goddamn later.

[It will be another twelve hours before he checks this again.]

[epistemological]

[ Yes well, he’ll see a message roughly a second after he picks it up. ]

You’re getting text because I’m in bed but that was not an answer.

[mrballisticsdummy]

Why are you so obsessed with me?

Jon. I got pissed at you because you keep pushing this narrative that doesn't exist.

[epistemological]

Believe me this is not obsessed.

What narrative?

[mrballisticsdummy]

Oh my god, please get some culture.

The narrative that people actually care outside their own sphere.

[epistemological]

Either offer to show me the whatever you’re referencing or shut up about it.

Projecting your coping mechanisms on others doesn’t make it true.

[mrballisticsdummy]

I'll show you when I'm out.

Look, I know I'm doing the 'well, why can you care about people but other people can't care about you' thing. I know I am.

If I knew how to stop, I definitely would.

[epistemological]

Start by accepting it's possible, even if you don't understand it.

[mrballisticsdummy]

Wow. So wise, Jon. Thanks for that.

I'll put it in my inspo journal.

[epistemological]

You asked a question and I answered. Or did you think I hadn't done this myself?

[mrballisticsdummy]

Definitely didn't ask a question.

But you're not me.

If you were, you'd be more handsome.

[epistemological]

You were shitty in a way requesting an answer. There. Accuracy.

If I were you, I probably wouldn't have been nearly eaten alive by flesh-eating worms either. Point?

[mrballisticsdummy]

Oh probably. And you'd be a lot less likable. Or more. I can't tell.

Though maybe you would have been sucked into a star. That seems your luck.

You're taking up all of my break times. I hope you know that.

[epistemological]

Funny you say that, as I've actually devoured a star once. Of a kind, at least.

And you're the one answering and you're 'pissed' with me so I'm either more amusing or I'm the only one in the queue.

[mrballisticsdummy]

I was pissed at you twelve hours ago.

Not many people beating down my door to talk to me.

Go to sleep, Jon. You'll keep the boyfriend awake.

[epistemological]

He's taking the dog for a walk. Or did you think we were to bed at nine o'clock?

[mrballisticsdummy]

I imagine more boring things for your life. So that fits in nicely to the story I've constructed about you.

[epistemological]

Do go on. I'm sure this will be ridiculous.

[mrballisticsdummy]

I have suddenly found myself with a lot more thinking time. So yes. It is ridiculous. Strap in.

You wake up early. Do something exceptionally British like drink tea while staring longing at a picture of the Queen. Then it's off to the library to sit around and help people find whatever stupid shit comes into their brains. And then you come home, watch a terrible documentary about fish or the types of sand in the Sahara, and then it's off to bed at around eight after a long day.

[epistemological]

Other than the Queen, who I'm not discussing if we're going to have a civil discussion of any sort that isn't me ranting for an hour and a half about the absolute bullshit waste of taxes that is the 'royal family', and the choice of documentaries and the bed time... it's not entirely off.

[mrballisticsdummy]

Oh shit, really?

Please get a life.