#welllll this is a little prolix

[wormtoxin]

updated personas/subroutines: (disclaimer: i still don’t think im plural, sorry)

Pepper/Clover: the main one, not even one of the subroutines really, just the blank slate object which all the others act upon. The physical body. The only persona recognized by society.

Autopilot: the regular forms and functions of being a human being. Wake up, brush teeth, go to class, come home, go to sleep. Sometimes one of the others sneaks in and replaces it without my notice, especially when I’m talking to other people, and I don’t care for that shit at all. Routine.

Rambles: Vile little subroutine that makes my mouth move well before my brain. Sometimes I feel like I’m going on and on and I can’t stop. I don’t like conversation much because having to talk necessitates Rambles and then I feel totally out of control and I hate it. Objectively this one has its uses but it’s also my least favorite.

The Wretch: Self-loathing subroutine. Convinced it’s a worthless fuckup and probably correct. Self-sacrificing while being selfish, apologetic while seeking sympathy, paradoxically victim and passive-aggressor. The worst of both worlds. I actually put a lot of time and effort into being properly accountable the way a human being should be, but sometimes i get overemotional and I spiral and that part’s The Wretch i think.

The Doll: Control, poise, perfection, submission, obedience. Maybe if it’s perfect we can get it right this time. If it’s just perfect then nobody can criticize it. Next time it’ll get it. Never does. Masking, I think? Maybe some kind of fucked up anti-masking? Can’t keep this one up for long. Wishes it could just be quiet for once and let our actions speak for themselves, but people keep trying to talk to it, and it inevitably slips away. Probably used it more when I was working.

The Dog: Playing, eating, sleeping, rolling, getting off, singing and drawing. Simple bodily expressions. Not so bright. This one doesn’t get much of an outlet. Kind of a lump, occasionally whipped into shape by expectation. I actually kinda like being this one but it’s impossible when being perceived by another human being. The most invisible persona of them all. Immoral (amoral?) and therefore unsustainable long-term

The Magician: Doing, studying, creating, dressing, presenting. A self-styled scholar. Flashy and stylish and confident. Would describe itself as “dark academia” or something similarly edgy-but-trendy. Work and school romanticized, transmogrified into an exciting fantasy. Useful for being productive.

The Witch: Free of responsibility to society or others or ethics. A heartbreaker maneater homewrecker bitch. A natural disaster. An expression not of individuality or self, but force and violence. Claiming anything it wants by any means necessary and destroying everything in its path. Selfish to the core. Chained up in a basement somewhere. It exists but it’s cruel and it sucks so I never ever let it out. But I like to remember it’s there. A trump card, a concealed weapon. Break glass in case of emergency. I feel the shape of its outline like a knife stashed in a boot and I know I could use it if I ever needed it.

Honorable Mentions:

Poetics: Playing with sounds, words, grammar, languages, ideas until they sound musical and pleasing. Etymology research, vocabulary buff, eidetic memory for certain words and phrases, but only when they sound “right”. Possibly used for all five senses, or possibly shares overlap with Composition (visual) and Kinesthetics (touch)

Faux Marxism: Self-righteous understanding of the dialectical materialist view of history. Used mostly for impassioned speeches at inopportune moments (Rambles) or in response to perceived political threats. Poetics and Faux Marxism are both very invested in learning as much vocabulary, history, languages, and multiculturalism as possible, but for very different reasons.

Horndog: you could take all of sexuality and sprinkle it across all the other different subroutines, OR you could concentrate it into one horrible little guy.

Puzzles: The subroutine that just will NOT let a problem go until it’s solved. Character designs, meaningless research inquiries, computer software. Very very very very rarely, actual assigned tasks. The Magician wants what Puzzles has.

Hibernation: Comfy cozy blanket pillow sweater cuddle nap pile. Memorized the rhythms of the winter hibernation episodes of Tanoshii Moomin Ikka and plays them in a loop continually year-round. This one might be straight-up biological. I think I might have a vitamin deficiency.

Fog: The squishy slouchy sweaty medium that fills up whatever psychic dream space all the other personas occupy. There used to be a sense of “me” but it got covered up by all the fog what seems like years ago. That sense of wholeness, control, totality, unification. It existed once. I like to think it’s still out there, somewhere, if I just get my meds right or get enough sleep and if I can just synthesize all the others maybe I can feel “like myself” again. But all the fog covers it up. Memory issues. Whenever I get a sudden moment of clarity, and I realize I’ve been one of the more loathsome subroutines, someone I don’t recognize, I’ll have just stumbled out of the fog. Always comes with a feeling of “Why did I just say that?” Or, “What did I just say?”. Dissociation, maybe???

????: see previous. The negative space that fills everything else in. I don’t even know whether to call this one “Selfhood” or “Synthesis” or “Control” or “Autonomy” or …”Me”. That’s probably most appropriate but it feels like too foreign a word to make sense of. Whatever was here once got swallowed up by the fog, and I don’t know what it is anymore. If it was here I think I could feel like a present sensor and agent in my own life again. This is probably what people expect out of “Pepper” or “Clover”, the flagship of the armada, the face and voice of the operation. I don’t know where that person is. All the subroutines (personas?) are trying to emulate her, stall for time until she comes back. She might not ever be coming back. We might be all we have.