Car got worked on today. What was done was just a patch-work “fix” -again. The shop that it has been worked on at has parts on order, but they are taking a while. Last time I drove it I was breathing either fumes directly from the engine or adhesive from tape they had used to cover holes in the air-intake manifold. This time, supposedly, they fashioned something (rigged, again) to plug the holes. I’m about done. My dad is helping me, but I’m not sure I have really ever been helped. As I have considered before, sometimes I think I just need to completely hit rock bottom and lose everything. It’s the same with doctors– I self-diagnosed my real problems, where they were just prescribing more antibiotics (and it was an allergy to a commonly consumed substance that was causing all of the issues). I don’t have a lot of confidence that I won’t be breathing fumes. I don’t have hardly any confidence that my ‘new apartment’ is going to be at any point a livable space for me. I’m very troubled, and I trouble others. I face guilt/shame. Often I consider suicide to be a logical option in this. I consider that I wish I had a path to euthanasia. My illness isn’t accommodated. It doesn’t even have an accepted name to the medical establishment, and there isn’t really any treatment except avoidance of the things that make one react.

And with it, I am faced with the “eternal” optimism of those around me. The expectation – that the next move will yield success. But I know it is much more likely that it won’t. I have learned not to expect a lot- That others might. I’ve had to do this, or else I’d constantly be let down. I am sick, and the sickness hasn’t left my mind alone. No doubt, I have been depressed by it, and I am often at a loss of motivation to change once I do reach stable points, so I might have a tendency to stagnate, or go into routines that aren’t really that productive- But that offer me some degree of normalcy and satisfaction of expectation.

I have also broken in ways, that make it harder to fix myself in other ways. I’ve been in ways chained. I hate it.

I have sometimes associated with numbers- Things, thoughts, concepts, relationships — One of the number’s, 203, is the exit that I take for work, and is a number that I first may relate to through it being the number of days until the end of the year at my time of birth. This job has awarded me the most ‘stability’, and ‘independence’ in my life so far, of any job that I have held. I’ve had it for about 5 years. There are many things wrong with it, but the potential earnings are higher other places that I might be able to “get a job” with. I also have found association of this number with a rather iconic, and “mysterious” thing in the world- The Great Pyramid – as the number of steps or courses that were in it, and it has reflected, in-form, the first number that made me pay attention- 23. In a way it has been a “key”. And here I am getting to the fact that also now to do with fumes, at my last location, a patient who has been in room 203, which is right next to and the closest to any nursing station in the building – she has started to use some kind of plug-in “air-freshener”. Her last name is Key, and her first name is Helen. I have sounded this, at some points, testing, Hell – in? Am I in hell, and how was I born here? Any of my sins here would seem to be contained in the structure of it- Like I am, and the world around me is also – bound in my sin. I’ve also associated the word, sin, with Sense(s)– The original sin (and f-root of the tree of knowledge, of good and evil). This – how I am pained by these things, that are with scent. A message?-sent?.

I need to be clear- I don’t absolutely allow the association as to destroy some other meaning, of the personal name, Helen, with some personal association through some context, of “Hell In”. That’s not the way I would ever be able to “break the chains”, to fight with rejection in that way. I also understand that that would make me pretty delusional, at least in any useful sense(?) I’ve seen how the world seems fake, and empty, and for these kinds of things, I have raged at God- But it would seem God is untouchable- Even if always near/with, and that any anger directed at God seems to not be logical. I do believe that I can “sense” a pathway, but it is becoming harder and harder, even if in ways, easier (if I wasn’t broken, but also, I may be able to “let go of”, at this point, much easier- The world, and I consider that that is the path, perhaps, but some things keep me here, such as my human optimism, and hope).

I don’t know.

[Some Spoilers are ahead, for the films Blade Runner, and Blade Runner 2049.]

Also with 203- I found that the number roughly correlates with the days of the year that my mother and father were born, my sister, and brother, together- Averaged. I’ve also found it other ways, but my mom and dad were born on the 98th day of the regular year, my sister and her husband the 283rd day of the regular year, and my ¬†brother and his wife the 229th day of the year. These summed come to 610. The average of 610 is 203.33_. ¬†610- I also associate closely with my birth-date, as it comes on 6/11. I also – in this process saw that the actress- Robin Wright was born on my parents anniversary date, April 8th, as I queried information about the date. I include this because I recently saw her as Lieutenant Joshi in Blade Runner 2049, in which a date of 6-10-2021 is special, as a birth-date of one who is main in the story. In this, she is the direct authority/guide of/over Officer K (blade runner). I also consider that my first girlfriend, Katie- Her favorite movie seemed to be The Princess Bride, which Robin stars in. Robin was also last married to Sean Penn, whose birthday is August 17th- The 229th day of the year (and this number is what initially sparked interest- When I recognized that my brother- The first born of the children in my family was born on this day, where 229 is my name’s gematria). Earlier this morning, going with Blade Runner, still- I found that my birth-date to the incept date of Rachel- Deckard’s love-interest in the first film, and mother to 6-10-2021 -birth, is 13,130 days, and that June 11th, which I was born on, seems to be the one date that is “framed” by incept dates of replicants; Zhora, from the first film, is born June 12, and Ana, who is a “born” June 10th, and my birth-date is June 11th. Zhora also has a pet snake, and there was something there, with this, in this film- Some detail that I connected here, but have forgotten. 8-17 is also, if I remember correctly numbers first seen on the box retrieved that contains clues, relating with Rachel, and the one (Ana) found to be born 6-10-2021 (and again- 8-17 as a date would be August 17th). Katie, Sara, Alisha, Marilyn- Are names of exes who I did consider marrying. After them, in a kind of struggle, I wrote their names, as I have written- And I found that the first letters may spell MASK; When I wrote their names, I wrote them one-One line, the one-The other line, recent to most past, to see this, and then I have analyzed further, seeing in ways certain order in them, or at least coincidence that seems to not be not potentially artful. “Hmm”. I may come back and edit this. I am going to go test out my fume-mobile.

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