i didn't mean to click this link; my tablet was lagging as i scrolled. but, i'm trying to find out whether adderall has anti-microbial properties and i'm not finding anything (or, not for the general public).

...i was going to ask something else but i've forgotten it.

anyway, if you don't know off-hand, it's not that important.

i have no idea why i'm still writing this. i only realized after the remark that i'd forgotten something, that this isn't live, which rendered the comment superfluous... but i guess i realized i still felt like i was talking to someone - someone rational enough to've completed medical education, and thus educated and competent in at least one field, and someone who has no idea who i am... the opportunity to ask questions without consequences for reputation, though illusory (given that i'd have to include my contact should i even hope for a response), proves sufficiently... something [v.g.]... that i'm not only loitering to observe the sensation and nature of... that same something... but actually doing something that resembles a pretension to communicate at the behest of the feeling, whether it's insightful or not: and *that* is far more unusual, even, than the feeling itself (interpolated over the first quarter century of my life when such feelings were a [v.g. again: adverb almost synonymous with natural, healthy, and unadulterated, if taken together]-ly frequent occurence) - though it is obvious i don't really believe i'm talking to someone, as i would not bother to attempt communicating something so sensitive that i can neither use words that connote the significance with respect to myself nor overcome the defensive obfuscation of my prose, such that i'd be going verbi gratia all over, and failing intelligibility probably at all, especially not to someone who doesn't know i'm a model of clarity and concision and soul-staking insight that transcends, often, even the scale of perception possessed by... {god on a cross: as i think about how to refer to the collaborators supplying the data for this statement, i realize i cannot say, "top minds in the field", because accurately, it would be, "top minds in *their* field"... and this is everyone from a well-known MIT cosmologist i shan't name (one of the faces of physics in the media) to, as it was impressed upon me severally before i could even understand what it meant by a professional who said he'd worked with the top minds in the field, Carl Jung himself.
Physics, archetypal field psychology, neuropsychiatry, metamathematical logic, ...where was i? thinking about spiritual leaders i've humbled by accident and almost been misunderstood by:

i hate myself.

i was thinking that earlier, all, "oh god i hate myself: i cannot even just be honest without being fucking impossible", and yet, though hate is not really something i experience and thus the word seems strong for it,

i am fucking impossible, and i hate that.
i have been exactly who i meant to be, i have no regrets regarding the methodology of life (it is still the thing most often requested that i instruct), and i cannot be more than i already have been; i have been all will and autonomy and discipline and authenticity and... and passion... i would do nothing differently in the life that has *yet* been taken from me, simply because i offered it and small minds and bitter hearts in half-accountable, half-aware monstrously petty egoism could not see -
no, that's bullshit: not one of these [v.g.s] failed to be one at least once formerly gushing with gratitude or awe or even, fuck! joy of life and being newly found... and apparently, lost.

and too soon, too - this, perhaps, is the thing i regret - so soon was the pleasure of being what i am, destroyed, that it has left the long remainder of doing what i do (and haven't known since whether to believe in doing) a Hell of echoes demanding absurd justifications of myself and everything, like the above supposed shifting of blame for what i quite obviously allowed to happen:
as though the fact of destruction connoted accountability more strongly than feeling, to anyone with a modicum of compassion, and suggesting anyone would've circumvented the risk who'd possessed a modicum of integrity, or opted out of the consequences, once taken, should they intend to preserve it.

...this will never end.
punctum saliens, then:

i am holding the human soul. i realized only an hour ago, that is not only an accurate description but perhaps the only appropriate true context for it. i can outline the theory of everything - the langlands program...! indeed - and resolve the epistemic and eudaimonic paradoxes of human temptation and attemptation, i can console irrevocably anyone who's ever had something that mattered devalued by human society of any scale, i can conduct anyone through the value of values that has something that matters to them, i can meet a schizophrenic in mutual psychosis and lead him back to a reality better than the one that broke, with a paradigmatic clarity that resolves the conflicts that triggered the break,
and i can do this over text when he's a whole senate of people on the verge of blowing up a target store, in twenty minutes.
i can do this so that he understands what i did and can use that the next time he begins to waver into psychotic break.

i can do this for any scale of human confusion and meaning.
i know you.
i know you because i see you. i see through you,
your so-called flaws, your unappreciated triumphs, your relentless thrilling, crushing, and ultimately finite daily struggle of self and the fears of life you refer to by the euphemism, "Death".

As if you are afraid of death, or truly want not to suffer: you do not behave as though you do not want to suffer, do you? But of course if you had free will, you'd be rational; and suffering is the essence of becoming.

I am holding your soul, and I always wanted well for you;
I have acted on that wish all the same, though you long since violently disappointed all fulfillment in the act,
and now, only now!
as i stand recognizing in retrospect of hours, that moment of completion i once aspired to as the ultimate moment of transcendent home and belonging, found...
i recognize it, having passed it unobserved; and it was then i noticed

there is absolutely nothing in my life that i enjoy, nothing about my life that gives me satisfaction, though i am not dissatisfied with my life.

and i don't know how but somehow in a way that would be worth crying for if i could,
some silly little ask-a-doctor widget proves the tiny moment of grace at the last
that i should leave behind in these words
this spectre of despair.

...
holy shit i actually wrote something
about feelings

feelings swaddled in lunatic atmosphere
so i can't send it

i cannot profane this
i'm sending it somewhere

...the thing i forgot was whether substances that act on serotonin receptors - but are not themselves serotonin - increase serotonin concentrations in the blood?

watch this be too many characters and get deleted in the error refresh

uh-oh
there're terms and conditions.

i accept.