You may not have noticed it… but your brain did.

The above quote is a reference to a subject I found rather touchy when it comes to films. Movies oftentimes showcase realistic characters in extraordinary situations. When a movie manages to engross you into its world, you start to think on its terms for the duration of the movie.

Like it or not, it can affect your subconscious. Same thing can go with video games. We don’t call it the Tetris Effect for nothing, however.

The thing I find rather tragic- I find- is in order to avoid that subconscious dedication to the story of a film, you have to completely separate yourself from it. In other words, forcibly limit your ability to enjoy a movie.

So the choice is therefore the following: Maximize enjoyment factor and not easily notice some aspects that may negatively affect your mind in the long run, or build a proverbial wall and save your mind in the long run.

… I’m not sure if I’m explaining this well… Anyway, the point I mentioned this is the following.

I recently had a dream that now makes me feel like the one guy trying to vouch for his bad-tempered friend by holding his arms out and saying “He’s not so bad once you get to know him.” Thing is, the ‘friend’ in question is my subconscious.

The dream was basically a lesbian couple wanted to borrow my room for a few days because they were being hassled by anti-gays or something. I’m not sure. There was something to do with building a giant concrete fortress and growing a massive beanstalk with what appeared to be one of those pads women wear for reasons men may very well never be able to fully understand on account of being men… except it looked more like a hexagon made of bacon. There was a Minecraft aesthetic to the location.

We’re suddenly in my room- but I didn’t know it was my room at the time. It looked like a pretty standard room in the dark. The bed had way too many pillows- possibly to fit the function of a sofa… which was what I used it as while playing Mario Kart.

This Mario Kart seemed different. I get the feeling that this was a Mario Kart that hasn’t even been made yet. The tracks were completely different, yet we were playing it with Gamecube controllers. It was not Double-Dash.

More crap happened, including a point where I said something offensive and the lesbian couple looked at me as if I was the most deranged lunatic in the history of mankind- familiar sight- and then I woke up… well, in-dream, that is.

I was in my room. I knew it was my room. However, my room was being borrowed by that lesbian couple… Actually, I should probably mention that the two girls didn’t look like anyone I’ve ever known or even seen.

Anyway, in the time they borrowed my room, they redecorated the place to a style I absolutely hated.

I mean, Jeez. It’s bad enough they went with an obviously crappy pink aesthetic, but they had to do this to my room- which they were borrowing? As in not planning to live in for a while?

Anyway, I should probably take this opportunity to say that I am in no way against gay rights. I’m all for them. I don’t like the idea of dedicating my code of ethics and view on the world to a book that’s only seen one side of the world up close. Thing is: I hated that lesbian couple for doing that vandalism to my room.

People could look at this and think “Wow, HolyJunkie, You must hate lesbians since they messed up your room!” Well, no. Honestly, I didn’t hate them because they were lesbians. They could’ve been sapient muskrats, or aliens, or robots, or even straight dudes. You don’t overhaul the look of another person’s room without permission, you know what I mean?

“But Junkie! The fact that your subconscious, with all its imaginative power, settled to conjure lesbians (specifically) that vandalize your room for no reason must mean you must harbour some negative feelings toward teh gayz!”

Well… Sh*t… I’d argue against that, but I honestly don’t know what to think. Maybe you’re right, maybe I do harbour negative feelings toward “teh gayz”. What can I say? My subconscious is a melting pot of different ideas and experiences- good and bad- that have all accumulated over the course of twenty-one years. Considering the massive amounts of stored information over the course of twenty-one years, how do you know that the combination of ideas posed in the dream were not just something from a random draw from my brain? Honestly, we don’t even know the context of this dream. It’s a dream! We’ve all had FUBAR dreams, and even more FUBAR drug trips.

What the flying f*ck can you expect me to say in response to a dream that doesn’t directly say I hate lesbians?

Another thing I remembered was that rather recently, a college classmate up and texted me- which has never happened before- and the only word was “psycho.”

When I asked him to elaborate, he continued to call me words that would be more fitting to a person with mental problems. Words like “Psycho,” “Pervert,” … and really, that’s it.

It was later explained that the guy who texted me was drunk-texting me. Much like the dream mentioned earlier, it got me to thinking.

Even when drunk and an impaired thought process, the first thing that got on his mind once he got his hands on another guy’s cellphone was “There’s [HolyJunkie]. I think I will call him a psychopath!”

How, in his subconscious, could that possibly be at the top of the list of things he wanted to do- or think he wanted to do?

It also made me wonder “Who could’ve shared that so-called ‘inside joke’ with him? Because said texting classmate was actually not part of my class specifically. It made me wonder who in their right mind would tell another person that a third person is a psychopath when the “psychopath” in question isn’t even there.

It’s a sad, almost downright pathetic notion…

Bear in mind, he apologized for the actions later- which really pissed me off. Judging by the texts, I had the feeling he was really asking for my forgiveness… Which I couldn’t do. Let me explain.

Forgiveness is basically to stop feeling angry or resentful towards an offense. Now I’ve been called a psychopath in the past multiple times. It’s one of the reasons I don’t want to return to my college class.

It’s because I’ve been called a psychopath that I find it difficult to take anything I, or anyone else, say seriously. Maybe that’s a symptom of psychosis, but who cares?

I can’t forgive an action that has been repeated to the point where a mystery writer would call it “Done to Death”. But at this point, I honestly stopped really caring. I’m only writing about this because that’s what blogs are for.

Anyway, I told the guy that I can’t forgive him for an offense that had been happening for almost two semesters. However, I also told him that “That’s not what you should care about.”

I mean “What the hell do you expect me to say? ‘Hey, it’s cool dude.’?” Well that’s what I would say if the offense in question were accidentally tripping me, or swinging a bat too hard that you lose grip, and it breaks in half over my forehead… Well, breaking a block of wood in half with my forehead would be pretty badass anyway. Both of those examples are freak accidents, which can be forgiven- unless you’re a real psychopath.

The fact of the matter is: calling a person a psychopath, out of context and especially with no solid evidence to support it, is not cool at all. The only thing the guy should care about, I concluded, was that he apologized- and that was all that mattered and should matter.

Well, I hope this crap was in any was legible. Time to get back to making videos.


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