Six Months

The first update since the 9th grade was rolled out six months ago. Changelog:

- Rolled out emotions for our beta users
- FOMO disabled
- Fixed the addiction bug
- Improved baseline performance
- Reduced documentation overhead
- Patched memory leaks

Shit sarcasm aside though, when I took G six months ago I did not think it will actually do anything rather than a temporary euphoria. Apparently it did something that I have never expected—reactivated my emotions. You all know me as an emotionless asshole. While that's true to some extent, I never actually believed I am emotionless. Only in the last six months I actually discovered that yeah my brain was actually broken.

Aside from the G tho, what it mainly changed was the fact that since the experience my mind feels like it's starting to experience actual emotions again. Good feelings like genuine happiness and gratitude, and bad feelings like jealousy and hate. This may feel contradictory to my previous posts here—I have always affirmed my hate to every single one of you. But here is the catch: my hate was always objectively justified, what has evolved in me is genuine subjective hate. This genuine experience of emotions rebirthed in me a feeling that I thought diminished, passion. I missed the spark that comes when I am learning something new or waiting for a transitional phase conclusion to be made. And most importantly, I can say for the first time in years, I am genuinly happy. The genuine feeling of happiness versus instantenous pleasure has not crossed my path in years. For the first time, I sit with my friends and I am actually on the positive end of the spectrum, even tryna give gratitude and shit. The new version is still in beta to be honest and can't say it is at all a final product. But I believe even you can sense the weird shift in writing; I am missing that creative edge that is usually fueled by depression or complete numbness. However, I actually do not mind it. I don't think I will be writing new posts any time soon. I think I am finally happy to be alive for once, and I am trying to cherish the moments. I am trying to appreciate the temporarily sadness and the happy baseline. You may find me even actually writing technical posts or some boring ass shit that would not resemble my previous self, but at least I am happy?

Funny how I used to write these absurdly dark pieces while facing the void head-on, articulating the intricacies of my own fucked up psyche with a strange poetic clarity. The guy who wrote "Depression is Inevitable" or that cigarette love letter would look at me now and call me a fucking sellout. But that guy was drowning himself daily by looking for any distraction from the continuous noise, chasing dopamine shots that never lasted more than a few fleeting moments, but I know even him believed that this was necessary to feel his upcoming genuineness. It's fucking bizarre, you know? For years I've been orchestrating this elaborate theater of reason where everything from suicidal thoughts to existential despair was just logically sound conclusions. I still believe it was not just a romanticization of self-destruction, I am confident that it was genuinely the only path to feeling anything at all. It was an eight-year journey, and each and every step in this path was necessary—it takes touching the nadir to deem the summit fruitful.

I know what you're thinking—is this just another phase? Another one of those oscillations that I've documented so meticulously? Is this just one more peak before the inevitable crash that'll send me spiraling back into that familiar abyss that I've decorated and made cozy over the years? Maybe. Probably. Who the fuck knows?

But here's what's different: I don't actually care if it is temporary. I'm not trying to eternally solve the equation of Tokhy anymore. I'm not obsessively analyzing every chemical reaction in my brain or questioning the authenticity of every positive feeling. Turns out I have been just emotionally malnourished for so long. The universe hasn't suddenly gained purpose; I've just gained the capacity to feel something about the void rather than merely observe it. For once, I'm not treating my existence like some complex philosophical experiment that needs to be dissected. I'm just... experiencing it.

The software has glitched, and somehow the error is more functional than the intended code.

Don't worry though—I'm not about to become some spiritual hippie preaching love. I still think most people are walking garbage fires of cognitive dissonance, and society is still a collective delusion we all pretend makes sense. I'll never be a "healthy routine" person—that shit still bores me to tears. I'll still occasionally get that urge to self-destruct, to tear everything down just to feel something. I'll still question existence and have days where the pointlessness of it all crushes me. The difference is that now these thoughts feel like visitors rather than permanent residents, and now I can actually feel amused by the absurdity instead of just intellectually acknowledging it.

I'm not promising a happy ending. I'm not claiming I've found enlightenment or some bullshit spiritual awakening. I'm just saying that for the first time since I can remember, I'm not actively planning my exit. I'm looking forward to what comes next. I'm curious rather than dreadful.

Maybe G was just a catalyst, a way to reboot a system that had been running malware for too long. Or maybe it's just a temporary glitch in my usually sophisticated misery. Either way, I'm rolling with it.

So yeah, I'm not declaring victory or any of that pretentious enlightenment bullshit. This is just a status update from the other side of the chemical fence. I might still be a cynical asshole, but I'm a cynical asshole who occasionally experiences emotions and doesn't immediately analyze why. Is this how normal people feel all the time? If so, I get why they're so attached to staying alive. It's not ideal, but it beats the alternative by a margin I hadn't previously calculated.

So if you came here looking for that signature Tokhy darkness, that nihilistic eloquence, that poetic self-destruction—sorry to disappoint. The guy who used to journal his way through suicidal ideation for your entertainment is taking a break. Maybe he'll be back. Maybe not.

To all you pieces of shit who've been reading my mental breakdown chronicles: thanks for being part of my debug logs. I'm not promising I won't relapse into my old patterns soon—after all, every good system needs its fallbacks.

Until then, I'll be out there doing something I never thought possible—experiencing life without constantly documenting how much it fucking sucks.

Honestly? It's not half bad. And that was the weirdest bug fix of all.

And because I know you're all secretly dying to know what soundtrack accompanies this new version of me: