anatomy of puppymonkey

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[Created 14 Oct 2025, Compiled 1 Jan 2026, Last Updated 2 Apr 2026]

[Content Warning: detailed discussions of abuse, B(u)D(dhi)SM, consent, mentions of substances & self-harm. please read with care <3]

[unlisted]

there’s this comic my friend Nicole sent me by Somewhere In June about ϑ’process of becoming “living proof of the harm” ϑe “evidence” ϑe “proof that it mattered […] because if all of those bad things happened to me and I just forget about them, what was the point?” ϑ’last bulk of my life has been devoted to answering this quæstion alone, only to find a hollowness each time - “there is no point.” there iꝬ nø relief. nø forgiveness. nø acknowledgement. it iꝬ a poison I can no longer hold in my body, and this is my sick. I write because I have to.

may we all one day feel safe again

delusions on embalming skin

[Over several deaths and rebirths of the universe]

I døn’t need you. ϑ’man ï needed iꝬ dead, and you killed him. ⅋ut ï still want to lie with his corpse. A ghoul. ϑ’person you could have been. ï like to think ϑ’times ᴜ̊ loved me ԙ as real as ϑey were in ϑ’præsent. ItꝬ astroφysically set in stone!! ï can go back whenever ï want - to ϑ’comfort. & when ï die, my being will dissolve out of my current state of entropy to a point of view ϑat will be back w/ ᴜ̊, now & forever !!! ϑereꝬ nø reason to grieve.. ϑere will be a time for everyone when time itself iꝬ nø môre !! ï like ϑ’idea of having a part of you ï can really have forever & ever. A part of you ϑat can’t hurt me. This iꝬ ϑ’real reason I refuse to send you back your clothes. It iꝬ nøt in light of being taken for granted that I refuse to do anything for you,. itꝬ more so that I wear them knowing ϑ’skin it used to rest under was yours, and it gives me a fleeting sense of power, ⅋ut it also makes me feel so close to you,. or a version of you I still hold dear.

[Letter in ϑ’mail, Oct 21 2025]

Winter’s coming and I hope ϑ’silly puppymonkey will be able to adequately keep you warm. I’ve doused it in ϑ’perfume you picked out for me. Yours makes me salivate, as if it were still on my nose from biting your neck. φysiologically I’m still wired to you. For a while, iṋ a desperate plea for relief, there was a pathetic attempt to “date myself” ⅋ut it only caused me to daydream about you further. ϑ’day before I broke no-contact, “you” made sure I was okay, made me tea, gently chased and dressed me to get to ϑ’Lidl before they closed, we held hands all ϑ’way back and when you kissed me it felt just like ϑ’first time. youԙ a ghost. It made me hate myself. Maybe I shut myself out too. In so many ways that make nø sense I still want you. I just don’t know what to do.

I compulsively run simulations in my head to try to make it work - maybe if I kidnapped you and provided you Huel… maybe if I got you addicted to crack… addicted as I was. Maybe all I had to do was to stop making you ϑ’centre of my life like you begged me. Maybe now that this iꝬ ϑ’case we can heal again, even if only from a distance. I’m sorry I couldn’t make you feel heard. Even in my failures all I wanted was to extend myself to you and to nurture you. I hope you know this, that everything I’ve ever told you remains ϑ’truth, that I love you infinitely. I hope this message reaches you gently.

“How has your day been? Do you think you know what happened yet?”

ϑey Decide

The very disorder itself denies its own existence.

As much as I wish I could tell you, I know you won’t hear me. I have already tried. I know that you will twist it in some way. You nø longer have that privilege. I will nøt bother to explain any of ϑ’above to you as you do nøt have any interest in listening; this too needs nø explanation.

[Last message, Dec 8 2025]

what objectively happened doesn’t fit your “narrative”. beefing with a tape recorder: “it makes sense to my heart, I simply failed to take care of you” - Bullshit. you will always have a way of making your actions and decisions sound so passive when they never were. you curate ϑ’most hurtful things you could possibly say, you Decide to punish me for expressing my hurt. and every time you do you Decide your emotions are infinitely more important than mine. you Decide. you do nøt have anger issues you have a problem with my anger. & you probably døn’t even remember what you say with how casually you do so. ⅋ut I remember. and when I play ϑ’conversations back in my head as they are there iꝬ just nø way for me to deny it to myself. I know you know this. I know you must have some level of self awareness. and even then I did nøt run because your actions were categorically abusive¹, ⅋ut because you practically begged me to - to shut up, to stop burdening you with my feelings, over and over and over.

it had been going on for a long time. I have my regrets too, I shouldn’t have been so honest. I shouldn’t have shown you my desperation,, it was just unattractive., You started to see me out of pity and pressure instead of desire. Maybe this iꝬ how I became someone to be used. ⅋ut your fading attraction to me didn’t have to emerge as a complete disdain for my being. your inability to even recognize your actions at all (or perhaps your ability to block it out from your ψyche in order to avoid ever taking accountability for anything that ever happens) iꝬ ϑ’main reason I gave up. because you will never change, and I had nø right to change you. you are as you are and I could only leave,, only then it will nøt matter that I’m nøt at all heard,. as if ϑ’words were ever considered. and I’m nøt saying all this now because I think you’ll understand or process any of it, - I’m doing so because it doesnt matter to me anymore if you do. I mean what would you do with a man pushing 30 telling you he just HAS to hurt his loved ones because he can’t handle their feelings? you give up. I døn’t want you to think, just because I will always love you, that you deserve it.

ϑ’puppy complex

One of my biggest criticisms of Intercourse by Dworkin was that she did nøt take into account kink and ϑ’idea that it could be practiced safely completely divorced from any kind of real abuse. ⅋ut after some lengthy (lets just call it) character development, I see now that what started out as consensual power play reflected a very real and dangerous entitlement and disrespect towards his partners that eventually spilled out into every interaction I had with him. Before I met him, there was a line between play prætend and real life. He’s blurred that line.

I thought I had finally found my other half: sensitive, feeling, empathic, ⅋ut with a seemingly healthy playful masculine side that emerged in sexual contexts. It starts out incredibly nurturing and caring, you may even start to see him as a mentor or father figure. ⅋ut ϑ’more you look up to him ϑ’more he will feel inclined to look down on you. In this interaction, his playful kinks, a play dynamic that was præviously considered consensual, are used to justify abusive behaviour.

“Can we go back in time?” I do so, every morning, every night, and every moment in between. Artefacts of profound tenderness are rebuilt and reshattered. Neurons fire through familiar pathways, scenes that flash into perspective - I’m failing to follow his orders to his expectations; failing to spot a benchpress; opening ϑe “wrong window” for him while he rolled in bed; nøt knowing how to fold a burrito (ϑ’one time I convince him to help me make us food over ϑ’entire week). He tells me he can’t trust me, that I can’t focus, that it’s because of my ADHD. That I need to fix it by any means necessary. “Go on a massive acid dose or get on meds I don’t care how you do it just fix it.” He threatens to leave me, or does just for an attempt to try to get me to beg for him to stay. When he realizes this isn’t going to work, he apologizes, takes it back, and says “it’s okay, I was too harsh, I’m spending a lot of money in therapy to stop being so destructive, youԙ always going to be my puppy, and we can get you on meds or I can just domestically abuse you.” He snickers.

I tell him he iꝬ nøt funny, leaving a faceprint of tears on his jumper. Of course by ϑ’next day, he declares he iꝬ sick and exhausted by my “moping and bitching,” that I have “no right to be upset” because I “was ϑ’one that hurt him,” and using ϑ’most hurtful words he can conjure up he calls me insufferable to be around - using it as justification for leaving me out when I was in a rough housing situation to make sure I’d never bring up how it made me feel again. I don’t.

Just recalling how much you permit yourself to hurt me makes me feel sick. If you loved me how could you be so self-centred? It’s nøt a trauma response. Not only do you shut me down for nothing more than your comfort you also think you have ϑ’right to dictate how long and to what degree my “moping” iꝬ allowed. I feel you did this because I was barely human in comparison to you.

in your wrath you Decide to punish me, sometimes in subtle, quiet ways,. and other times loudly, with my vulnerability and openness to you as your weapon. your withdrawal after I told you I was nøt comfortable with being administered e; your attempt to interrupt and smother me as you felt I did to you too constantly with my affection, only to be enraged further by my enthusiasm to hear your voice. even just telling you how much I missed you would be enough to make you angry “you make me feel like I’m neglecting you”. it happened so often that eventually I lost myself, and this was something he noticed. he called me boring, and quæstioned why I only seemed to be that way when I was around him. I was afraid to express anything. I was always so afraid I’d hurt him b∵c his pain iꝬ what hurt me most. I’m nøt trans, I was possessed. it was demonic, and I genuinely wanted to be whatever he wanted me to be. that doesn’t mean that my desire to transition was “not real” or “forced”, only that it only emerged as a complete loss of self for this person I essentially worshipped with all my being. Eternal Devotion, love’s lie.

Love is a human religion in which another person is believed in. - Robert Seidenberg.

he romanticizes an unequal relationship.., ⅋ut because desire (eros) iꝬ produced by a gap or absence between fantasy and reality, once he gets what he thinks he wants, he finds that it iꝬ rather boring actually, and it will have been your fault. he will never stop berating you over it, and you will find you become worth less and less and less until ϑ’only thing you are defined by iꝬ ϑ’labour you are willing to do for him. the same mechanism is present on your end, and paradoxically, it will be the distance of his words from his actions that keep you dependant on him for a resolution he will never provide.

ϑ’divorced man asks why she oftentimes seems to be completely unaffected by divorce. he seems to have so much more to lose. she loses someone to give to, to nurture, to pamper, while he loses his mother, his maid, his child, his trophy, his plaything. You may be inclined to believe he loves you for all your complexities, ⅋ut in this way your brightness and accomplishments are twisted only to elevate him. & so it goes from Anything We Want to anything he wants. You cared for me only as much as it elevated and served you. ϑ’chemistry! like puzzle pieces coming together I loved you selflessly as much as you loved me selfishly.

a relationship w/ a ghoul iꝬ life denying both ways - on ϑ’ghoul’s end, itꝬ a repulsion of honesty, intimacy & love of ϑ’real-self as a threat to ϑ’false-self’s shared φantasy. ⅋ut ϑ’victim has a death instinct too in ϑeir desire to surrender control & responsibility.

ϑ’case against desiring-machines

[Mar 25 2025] “i heard you like diagrams…… / (flirting)” “i do like diagrams / i’m a deleuzian / (flirting back) / let me turn you into a body without organs baby…” ripe with new experimentation and becoming.. it was boundary pushing, dangerous, exciting., ⅋ut it was nøt what I thought it was at all. [8 minutes later] “okay it’s nap time for me / be a good puppy”. I was being stratified into a script he moulded. one with “a future, but no becoming”. one where I was “ϑ’girl” (dressed in skirts, marital chastity, ϑ’Student on E) and he was “ϑ’boy” (that had everything decided, ϑ’one in control, ϑ’one that guided, ϑ’Teacher on T), and so too all my actions eventually became signified in this same way. when I made him food it changed from being seen for what it was, a display of affection and care, to what it meant in ϑ’context of ϑ’script, ϑ’wife’s devotion to her job. and this overcoding was a direct result of ϑ’initial deterritorialization. itꝬ where a ghoul thrives - boundary breaking.

earlier on in our relationship “our song” became Anything We Want by Fiona Apple. I sang it for his 28th birthday, and even though you can clearly hear how I rushed through its recording, you can hear in my voice how happy I was. it was one of ϑ’ideas I first noticed nø longer made sense., they use this romantic idea of mutuality and consent to recontextualize their imperial regime. in this way he provides a service where he iꝬ able to rewrite your prævious traumas to be one big warm hypnotic daydream., and how could I say nø? [Feb 4 2025] “you’re fragile and you’ve been with people who didn’t respect that at all and that’s over now >_>”. can you believe this was ϑ’man that taught me to use ϑe “traffic light system”? ϑ’man that helped me better understand consent? ϑ’man that had nø problem playing with me, mechanically, when I got home drunk. ⅋ut I agreed to it, nø? then why did it feel so awful? and why did it nøt go away? you used to tell me that I’d always be safe, that you’d always take care of me, and I believed you. ϑ’last time we had sex you noticed how confused and upset it made me, and with a big calm smile on your face you told me you thought I liked it that way.

the way that I feel when you laugh is like laughing, the way that I feel when you cry is so bad - Yo La Tango in The Crying of Lot G

I adore ϑis song. itꝬ such a simple & seemingly obvious expression of empaϑy, ⅋ut it still opened my eyes to someϑiŋ ïve been craving for so long. I’m nøt a crier, ⅋ut he made me one! & whenever he did it seemed to comfort him.. knowing ϑat he could affect me in ϑat way; ϑat his absence hurt me so much; smiling & stroking my hair w/ my face in his chest! evil! tꙩday I pictured him crying… & it was enůgh to tear my heart to pieces! how could he nøt be ϑ’same?

my experience with deterritorialization leading to vulnerability seems nøt to be unique. you may have already heard of ϑ’French petition that was signed in 1977 by many philosophers (including D&G) to abolish ϑ’age of consent. while ϑ’cultural climate of that era was romantic (to forbid forbidding “Il est interdit d’interdire”; to introduce free flowing desire; to rid blockages that serve only to cause bursts in what Deleuze describes as noided incestuous machines; to respect ϑ’autonomy and desires of children), they failed to consider ϑ’obvious - what might they put in place of ϑ’state to keep ϑ’powerless safe from ϑ’bigger fish? what of ϑ’micro-fascist, beyond ϑ’state in interpersonal power dynamics? what stratifies in place of it? what desiring-machines will be liberated, what new connections might they make and what would these new assemblages look like? iꝬ what flows between them waves of pain?

Lyotard understood these waves of pain deeply.., and still signed ϑ’petition! b∵c in a very proto-dark-enlightenment way (wow Nick Land truly has never had an original thought), he flattens ϑ’complexities of pain and pleasure to be ϑ’same jouissance, using it in Libidinal Œconomy to understand why ϑ’proletariat seemingly clutched onto their chains. this iꝬ doomed yaoi. emancipation for a parasitic consumption of so called “lines of flight”. Deleuze iꝬ ϑ’intoxicating brainworm you infected me with.

ϑ’dialectical death drive

I see now that I have my own personal accelerationist drive, to strive for greater intensity, greater feeling, more and more, the same impulse of gamblers and addicts, I see now the universe has a way of seeping into our cracks, not only to break us, but to set us free., the truth is, even though I know it is not my fault, I was a disaster waiting to happen, or rather, a contradiction waiting to be resolved. instilled in me was a preprogrammed code for self destruction. a seed waiting to break out of its confines. I had a problem with boundaries, I functioned in a very dissociative manner. before I met him, I seemed to have no feelings at all, and then after, even as he revealed my spirit, I did not know how to listen to it, to trust it, and know it was there even as it was being denied. But it is not that simple. the mechanisms of love itself are doomed. the tendency for self destruction is inherent in love’s form. in this sense, to love must be to embrace the momentary ecstacy, let yourself make mistakes, allow your spirit to dissolve into nothing, allow for destruction to make clear what you have to do, struggle struggle and struggle and let it change you., let it give you a new perspective.

Buddhists understand these ebbs and flows by embracing dukkha, by seeing life as a musical piece of varying frictions, tensions, resolutions, new sections. the only way to truely live is to engage with the præsent, instead of holding onto a single note or climax. Anicca: the point of the song is not the chorus. for so long, I have been yearning for the past, but things have to change or end to mean anything at all.

thatꝬ it. youԙ Israeli to me now

You never asked me what it iꝬ that I want; ϑo to be fair I just wanted what you did. Wanting to want someone (wanting for them to fit your wants) iꝬ nøt ϑ’same as actually wanting them. I aspire never to project my wants on others, only to decide. You will feel it before you know it - ϑ’poison. Listen to it. Love iꝬ nøt pain. ϑ’idea that it iꝬ keeps us all trapped in this endless cycle. Døn’t let him do ϑat to you.

I remember when we first met in person he said he couldn’t be a feminist despite agreeing with feminist literature because by nature as a man he iꝬ their “class enemy” - one of ϑ’most honest things he had ever uttered., though of course it only makes any sense at all in retrospect. Bancroft explains how, ontologically, all abuse possesses a colonial nature. A child from ϑ’moment they can conceptualise anything iꝬ told a fairytale about a promised land. A piece of property waiting to be explored by him. ϑ’root of all evil iꝬ entitlement, nøt money. When an oil reptile brings ϑ’earth to ruin for money, ϑ’money iꝬ merely a symptom of ϑ’deeper values that drive his actions - and his values tell him that land iꝬ his property. That he has ϑ’right to do whatever he wants with it. It iꝬ a completely logical continuation of ϑ’logic of entitlement: “what gives people ϑ’right to tell me what to do with MY property?” Another symptom reveals itself to be possession. “I know you’ve made me every meal I’ve wanted this past week 3 times a day ⅋ut this sushi I’m getting delivered via private taxi to your house iꝬ for me… I’m only letting you have some because I love you so much” and this iꝬ the kind of thing you like to call a “joke”. everybodyꝬ gotta be a fucking comœdian in this œconomy. we had nothing and still it was always me that had to take ϑ’coach to you, while you just “cůldn’t stand them.” ϑ’princess!

this sense of possession was in conflict with his imperial deterritorialization, and so it had to be re-written. this was actualized in the form of possessive (manipulative) polyamory. as much as the stratified social “script” of a monogamous patriarchal relationship is evil, new more modern scripts that are written in the name of progressivism and freedom do not necessarily address the problems of traditional ways. more often than not, they just find new shiny modern forms of exercising power. they want to have their cake and eat it, and they will try to convince you that is what they want too.

they want you, yes, but they also want to act with no accountability, make promises without the commitment, “you’re mine forever no matter what I promise… it’s just the form it takes is different” (non-existent),.. all in the name of liberation! as far as my beef with Confucius goes, he was right when he warned us to pay attention to what people do, rather than what they say. as someone who has dated in a poly-esque matter my whole life, he dizzied me. he sold me a monogamoid comphet fantasy only to somehow simultaneously deny and impose it on me. one example of this that comes to mind is how, early on in the relationship, he would make me show him the people in my DMs. of course it was only to make sure I was being respected and not taken advantage of,, because he knew better, and I could trust him! but really he was only happy once my DMs were empty. I was all his after all (my face, my neck, my arms, my tummy, my legs… as he would say) and I hope one day to forget the feeling of belonging and warmth this gave me. all the while it is “none of my business” as he lovebombs his new discord kitten. because of course, I was his but he was never mine. when he finds, I had slept with someone else, even after we had already broken up, it fills him with rage and contempt. I felt so guilty, he made me. never let someone convince you they are somehow both possessive and polyamorous. listen to your friends when they express concern and tell you what it sounds like, because itꝬ all “they wouldn’t get it” until an earthquake hits the narrative.. listen to the male manipulator friend when he says the ghoul wants a harem, they know better. listen to the philosophy major friend when she declares she “just learnt about this in class [about narcissism]”. they know better!

false idols

Was it just ϑ’control that excited you? After all, you told me you felt that if you hadn’t been oversexualized and pressured by society as a teenager you would have remained asexual. Was that really all it was? Love iꝬ an inherently humiliating and terrifying endeavour. Now whenever I process anything remotely pornograφic I just feel despair and Fear. (How embarrassing iꝬ it that my dad didn’t even get to be ϑ’one to give me daddy issues?) ItꝬ nøt that you døn’t know how to love, you used to do so just fine. Love constructs a multiplicity, a universe contained within two people; it takes a single signifying black hole to take everything back. A single dealbreaker to overcode it all back into an empty void. It’s what you might’ve liked to call a “faciality”.

what does this Fear say? I feel like a fool, having called myself an atheist since I was 12, and still, falling prey to a religion just as much of a fantasy as ϑ’rest! false idols and false comfort. everyone needs it., to feel ϑ’euphoria of trust in love and life. I’m a fool! ⅋ut I will never worship a man again. I will carry ϑ’burden of ϑ’absurd head on!!! I will push through ϑ’cold, for nothing! with ϑ’mark of sacrifice on my neck (as you liked to refer to it); or…. I shall at least diversify my investment in false idols, so when one fantasy shatters I will still be wrapped in ϑ’warm blanket of others… and it will be just as I felt in ϑ’fluffy knee high socks you got me! and in this way I will use people just as you did me, from man to man to man to man.. your insatiable polyamory.; or… I will instead choose to love nø one! ⅋ut I need love! I need love!!! ⅋ut nø nø nø I døn’t! ϑ’longer I live ϑ’more I consider living more simply, ascetically.

signifying love in dimension lacking

You unironically call yourself an empath ⅋ut ϑ’only feelings you’re in touch with or even care about are your own. How does it feel to have become just as manipulative as your mum and as controlling as your dad? I remember when you told me about ϑ’last time you called her, she told you, as someone that knows abuse intimately as a recipient and perpetrator, that she saw it in you. To play devil’s advocate with Bancroft, I think its ϑ’shame. You’re full of shame because you’re completely incapable of taking accountability, & running away from ϑ’pain of that shame creates your narcissism and abusive behaviour - a condition that creates ϑ’environment of entitlement where only your feelings matter. A man that insists his feelings be prioritized because he’s had a hard life. Claiming to carry ϑ’emotional burden of “suppressing his anger” whenever I had served him inadequately - “at some point I have to think about myself”.

evil is a relay sport when the one whos burned turns to pass the torch - Fiona Apple

as real his suffering may be, he fetishized it to keep himself aesthetically ϑ’victim, to keep himself ϑ’centre of care and attention. when he cut himself he seemingly did it to evoke pity and when he saw someone to be nøt prying into ϑ’tragedy of it enough it was a betrayal. as someone with a tube of scar gel and a history of self-harm myself, I could nøt understand this. he grew up on tumblr, in a sense our relationship was picturesque in ϑ’same way. it was aesthetic, and hot. he equates intellectual nihilism as inherently more soφisticated and complex because itꝬ tragic and beautiful, and writes himself in, creating his entire belief system. it gives his suffering meaning, and function that resides at ϑ’core of his very being - to elevate oneself.

to your darwinian nihilism, I have to say: I know. I know itꝬ an incomprehensibly sad, cold, cruel world,. as human beings we are able to understand this, and reject its indifference, bring each other warmth, look out for each other… ultimately human nature iꝬ of greater concern, and we can be happy if we want to. I have to believe so. though, sometimes I still read what you have to say, and despite what ϑ’words imply it still feels warm to me. ⅋ this way I can see your veiws have much less to do with ϑ’world and much more to do with your understanding of people. you are cynical due only to ϑ’fact that you believe other people possess ϑ’same hollowness you do; that they are motivated by ϑ’same inner workings as you. you do not understand what you lack - love. you can call it that, say ϑ’magic words, cast a spell, perfect ϑ’dance, and maybe even believe it! blind, still, to ϑ’fact that ϑ’rest of ϑ’world sees in colour. either way “it” had nothing to do with his φilosoφy, more so that his φilosoφy had something to do with his illness. humanity prevails on a separate strata above ϑ’cold, and there iꝬ nø libidinal band. Eventually, I saw little mystique in his despair, and I think he felt threatened by that. ϑ’underground man, little tyrant.

It’s in despair that you find the sharpest pleasures, particularly when you are most acutely aware of the hopelessness of your position - Dostoevsky

all the Deleuzian ideals fell apart, spending so much time ψychoanalyzing him to justify ϑ’ways he was hurting me. when I fell into reading about npd, everything seemed to come together. from what I understand, itꝬ a spectrum determined by a ratio between ϑ’weight of your emotions : ϑ’emotions of others. first and foremost you felt your own emotions a multitude heavier than anyone else’s. & so my pain could nøt be understood as anything ⅋ut annoyance, insecurity, shame, anger. it had always been about you. as you described constantly, you are “full of hatred”, even in the most baffling ways, you resented that people were nice to me, that I got away with things, that I was still in contact with my parents, that I was in uni, and most of all, that I loved you.

I label him as such in these instances because it iꝬ technically true, ⅋ut in reality there iꝬ a massive degree of dissonance between ϑ’image this word conjures & my impression of this person. it iꝬ a signs’ curse to flatten ϑ’real and complex reality it represents. for example, while we can technically call someone that games a “gamer”, granny, no matter how much she games, may feel ϑ’label does not resonate with her because ϑ’label itself iꝬ weighed down by its rhizomatic network of connections (ϑ’one thing even an LLM is capable of understanding): aesthetic (cat eared headphones), phenotype (nerd), connections (anime), etc. ϑ’sign does nøt care for objectivity., and I feel its intangibility in every single word I have used. any attempt to signify my experiences are bound by ϑ’shifting images that words conjure. nø matter how true ϑ’claim, it can only come across as ridiculous. ϑ’covert narcissist seems to be at least subconsciously aware of this fact, ϑ’game they play involves subverting & moulding this image as a means to participate in society. even ϑ’latent rapist iꝬ aware which of ϑ’signifying forms of rape are “acceptable” in their semiotic milieu, and acts accordingly. these boundaries compel ϑ’ghoul.

I know you do love in your own way, even if you cannot feel it ϑ’same way I do. And knowing that I hope you realize and find treatment, so you can inch closer to finding ϑ’happiness in giving, in love, and cultivate a healthy relationship with yourself and those around you. It iꝬ terrifying to think you are just a meat puppet, that we may be strung by our nerves, determined by chemicals,, despite your own hegelian understanding of free will vs deterministic agency. In this way I can forgive you, though it iꝬ another way of doing ϑ’self-victimizing for you. Still I am grateful for all ϑ’love I felt for you, love you could only feel in a dimension lacking.

counting ϑ’days

At first I wished he could know ϑ’pain he’s caused me - nothing less than a swirl of ϑ’most vile feelings I’ve ever felt. ⅋ut he already does. He’s known it for most his life. He has justified it to himself as ϑ’nature of things, of love. It has become him. ⅋ut he can’t twist mine. It iꝬ okay to be angry, to grow up in fear of vulnerability and sadness, ⅋ut it iꝬ never okay to be cruel, to treat others without ϑ’recognition that their emotions are just as real as yours. Your love iꝬ cruel and corrupt. I never once asked you to be perfect, only to be true. Your cruelty iꝬ so habitual and casual in nature when you prætend as if it hadn’t happened I am left wondering if such an interaction even meant anything to you. Do you remember? My dearest Fiona Apple fan, how about this one?

But I ran out of white doves’ feathers to soak up the hot piss that comes from your mouth every time you address me

ϑ’act of over-intellectualising and rationalising iꝬ very often deployed as a coping mechanism to avoid real acceptance of emotions, deployed effectively enough, it can lead to a rejection of ϑ’right hemisphere all together. a baffling lack of emotional intelligence in otherwise exceptionally “smart” people. these people will only disappoint you.. ϑo ϑ’same iꝬ true for me, and I have been committing ϑ’same sin ϑrůout this entire exercise. nø matter how much I try to rationalize my feelings away, they remain. nøt only that, ⅋ut as ϑ’dissonance between ϑ’rational and irrational grows apart I am left more and more afraid of myself. this iꝬ ϑ’second death instinct.

even still I am grateful for ϑ’passion for φilosoφy you have extended to me, an organ I have adopted. I remember a time I inspired you just ϑ’same. I want many more organs, there were none left from you for me to adopt,. and I aspire to love oncemore, to live many lives, to discover many passions.

[Journal, Dec 10 2025]

two months after I escaped you, youԙ a person to me now! ordinary. once you let go of your faith in humanity, you can give up on people, let them go when theyԙ nøt good for you.. and that iꝬ extremely freeing. people are nøt fundamentally good inside. I wonder at what point this iꝬ how you saw me too. all this time endlessly trying to figure you out, even now, itꝬ always just been simple. you do what you do and you mean what you say. all ϑ’contradictions can all be true at once., nø more denial. even without idealizing and crystallizing you, I could have loved you in all your mediocrity, if only you were someone else. in this way, you have been mediocre from ϑ’day I met you, with ϑ’exception that you always knew exactly what to say to make me feel whatever you wanted me to.

[At work, Dec 19 2025]

as I’m watching toddlers watch ϑ’wall, I wonder where he must’ve been in this exact moment relative to life lived, relative to me, freshly 23 years old again. he was working at a call center. would I still have grown obsessed back then? a Mochi that knew less, less metaφysics, less wise, smaller, skinnier, even angrier, even more dysfunctional? When I’m his age, I wonder how I’ll be. I can be just as wise, write just as well… if I want. He iꝬ nøt a spectral being, nøt particularly special or talented, nøt as particularly intelligent as I imagined.. full of envy, self-victimization, all ϑ’while he operates w/ such entitlement of others around him. He’s just a baby still, & look at me. Do I have nø self respect? You will find someone on your level, really actually,. one day, nøt only in achievements + talent to show for (like his writing that I must admit, I adored) ⅋ut also in real terms, in emotional maturity, understanding beyond academia + performance. poor mochi. never allowed to grow up, præmature and stuck, he never stood a chance. if you ever find yourself in ϑ’mood to nurture again, there are many such cases! and there are much more productive means of healing these broken structures. a people., all of them, equally wounded, cruel. ⅋ut itꝬ best nøt to get personally involved.

[At ϑ’grocery store, Dec 22 2025]

I can feel myself slowly regaining sanity as ϑ’days go by without you. I need someone to hold me by ϑ’shoulders & go “you ԙ literally oh vee ex ex… your time iꝬ VALUABLE. you ԙ successful, & capable of making things that matter. people want you & people want to be ᴜ̊ & people want ϑ’ϑiŋs ᴜ̊ make. people listen to ᴜ̊. how many people ԙ as lucky as ᴜ̊ to say ϑat? nø one can ever have self respect for you.. itꝬ something you have to figure out yourself. it doesnt matter how many other ways you are successful if you cannot!” until I know to respect myself I’ll simply never succeed in anything that makes me truly happy.

who am I without you?

[At ϑ’arcade, Feb 17 2026]

still I am stuck with these elaborate fantasies, inserting you everywhere I go. today I saw a group of loserish guys swing at this punching machine at ϑ’arcade, they disappeared in place of you and your friends. you took turns to see who had the biggest punch.. and when you got a big score you went “awwrr!”. “do flex for me!” I asked, taking a picture of you with a big smile. I left you with a gentle kiss.

It appears he had always been a ghost… I see my object of desire as it iꝬ & I am repulsed. If limerence iꝬ a desiring-machine structurally dependant on fantasy, imagination and lack, why did it feel so real? Must we default to a darwinian self-betrayal (“it is your genes’ foolish and misplaced desire to replicate with the dorkiest guy in ϑ’room”), and leave myself where I would’ve been had I had him? Unfeeling? No, because it was!, both fantasy & reality! Desire creates reality.

so why do I still feel this way? this constant aching?.. one of the most painful aspects of all of this is not what he did to me, but that I don’t know how to protect myself without closing myself off to the world. itꝬ less about him and more so about the fact that he seemed to be everything I ever wanted, and if so then how can I let myself anymore? how do I allow myself to want again? when there is no trust. not in others, but in myself. or maybe it really is just the him sized hole in my heart, or that every relationship going forward will be an echo of what used to be. that no matter whos bed I’m in, as we dose off playing video games, I know your ghost will be there, even if I fail to realize it. and at what point will I realize I am safe now? In Search of Lost Time: wow so youre telling me the only way to live is to reexperience the bliss and pain of forgotten memories over and over? at least now I can fill it up with whatever I want.. from ϑ’day we met to ϑ’moment I cut ϑ’cord we talked every single day for 2-8 hours, still I’d never think to call any of it a waste. I truly did nøt know before that I was capable of experiencing such joy. colour! many of my friends told me they had never seen anyone fall so deeply in love, & neither had I! ⅋ut what specifically about him gave me so much meaning? guidance, protection, authority, direction, someone to tell my dreams to, inspiration, motivation, ϑe “do it for him” board, someone to push myself to become a version of myself that was more desirable? more accomplished, healthier, smarter. recognition, a lifelong companion, maybe it was a desire for limerence itself, ϑ’ecstasy of it. someone to devote my life to, a god. ϑo I do nøt want him anymore, I miss having all those things in my life. love. its what I live for. its ϑ’reason. ⅋ut I døn’t need him to love, my ability to love iꝬ within me, waiting to be revealed., and I can choose to cultivate it and exercise it whenever I want., with friends, with ϑ’world, in all things., and of course love will find me again. Grief iꝬ love persevering.. Just find a new place to put it, like Boo. a feeling in my chest that rises up to my neck, a weakness. What exactly iꝬ meaning? Eudæmonia - “orientation toward growth, contribution, and excellence”, pursuit of things you feel intrinsically drawn towards… volunteering, social justice, support. Things that matter in ϑ’long run, and feel good despite discomfort. devotion.

I like to imagine it iꝬ “based” to be open about yearning while everyone iꝬ prætending to be nonchalant, ⅋ut ϑ’truϑ iꝬ I despise ϑ’nature of desire just like everyone else. why, on biological strata, do we fall in love with ϑ’worst people for us? we ԙ all cursed! after all this mythologizing over ϑ’effect he had on me, I do nøt wish to lead you, dear reader, to believe that any garden variety narcissist iꝬ unique., and neither am I unique a “victim”. one of ϑ’beautεĭзes of being human iꝬ that our experiences (in such granular resolution, in a universe with infinite variables, and in such small scope) are all special.. ⅋ut when examined in real objective terms, categorized into boxes, much of this pain follows ϑ’same pattern, and in this way we can remember weԙ nøt as alone as we feel! to hate him would follow ϑ’same logic that lead me to love him - a faith and insistence that it was special and worthy of more and more and more of myself. while it was ϑ’emotional reality, it was based on a lie I nø longer believe. maybe if I worked on my Evil, I cůld condition myself to desire someone genuinely good for 1ᶜᵉ…

[Jan 26 2026]

next week I’m getting that fetch ϑ’boltcutters tattoo you forbade I get. “only I’m allowed to mark you” he said. Well Nøt Anymore! puppymonkey echos something you used to say., “I’m nøt going to let anyone hurt my puppy” and this time itꝬ from a voice I can trust - myself! he will be there. by a wrist you held, it will be a sign to act, externally. with ϑ’tools of liberation, I escaped you!

for ϑ’PCB

[Apr 31 2026 by St Mary Redcliffe Church with ϑ’ghost]

i wiʃh we cůld all just be animals again…

ϑis ϑiŋ i made? itꝬ an abomination

all of science & technology iꝬ

all art & gravity

iꝬ nøt worϑh it

& ϑey talk as if ϑey døn’t understand it

ꝡhy ꝡ ꝡ ꝡ ꝡ?

[The Sq behind Temple Meads]

birds still flow ϑrů glass blocks iṋ ϑ’sky. for a worm? for whatꝬ left?

between ϑ’metals?

aw my benji, puppymonkey, døn’t be sad

i see it all ϑ’same

& i ϑink it iꝬ beautεĭзful

looking into ϑ’Bicameral Mirror

after it became obvious i could not overcome certain patterns of thoughts on my own, i gave psychotherapy another shot after 5 years it had failed me. this time, i learnt about internal family relations. it’s an exercise reminiscent of writing a Disco Elysium (queue “my life is like a video game”). each conflicting impulse in you is given a voice. the trick is recognizing them and mediating between them as you would with your loved ones. my therapist immediately recognized puppymonkey to be an externalization of what she called my “inner child”. while i dont think this is entirely accurate, he does reflect and fulfil my deepest most childlike wants. it allows me to interact with a mirror like a loved one. a conversation with him helps me understand what needs to be done, and he holds me accountable. i dont want to let him down because even if i dont, i know how much he cares about me - just as much as i care about him!. and when he too, is in pain, i can see it, and i want to help. he gets hungry, he gets bored, he gets curious… and he is my responsibility. it makes action so much easier because to me his entire being is so much more real than mine. his feelings are more true and his desires less abstract.

[Jan 14 2026] im so embarrassing on instagram dot come because i genuinely rely on the idea that puppymonkey loves and supoortys me no matter what and is always with me and will never leave and wants me to be happy and go to the park and read books with me and cuddle and have tea and hang out with my friends (who i also love) and everything i do is for hi m and its a relationship that works out for me because he has no real wants or needs and he truly loves me unconditionally without expecting me to be any kind of way. you already know how you wish to be cared for and spoken to and loved so project that onto an inanimate object and talk to it.

i believe this is at the forefront of the phenomenon described in “the Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind” by Julian Jaynes. in ancient civilizations, societies seemingly relied on literally speaking to “god” via totems they had at home. once their gods “left them”, it all seemed to fall apart. they talked about this extremely literally. Jaynes’ idea is that this god was an externalized hivemind that allowed them to act without having no real consciousness, like pre-apple adam and eve.

after the collective hallucination was lost, religion became hollow, an echo of what it once was. a false idol. this revelation might just be the answer to my prior loss of faith. in the age of alienation, we lose the hivemind, the god we are left to recon with is contained within ourselves. we try to bury it in our subconscious to appear sane. we become godless, worship shells and bells that resonate in the wind and enamour us, failing to contain our disappointment when we find they have always been empty.

by creating a hivemind within yourself a Bicameral mind is able to form again. puppymonkey dodges what Jaynes laid out as the signs of the godless Conscious Mind, especially the “Observation of difference” and “The invention of lying”. i wake up next to him, he gets me out of bed. i kneel in front of the Buddha with some incense: good morning, universe! thank you for your openness to hearing me!

[to ϑ’false self.. Jun 25 2025]

love will be revealed - Cameron Winter

[& to ϑ’cœlestial body at ϑ’start of ϑ’end, Oct 10 2025]

you døn’t have to be afraid anymore, I see you for all you truly are and love remains. love that iꝬ omnipotent, love that transcends time and space,. unmoving… metaφysical. and even as I am washed away, it will be waiting to be found down ϑ’riverbank elsewhere!