Psyche Desync

August 25, 2025

I thought I knew who I was. A girl wired for silence—introverted, lost in her own private network. Focused. Sensitive. Fragile code running on a delicate system.

Then the stress hit. Endless. Corrosive. Unpatchable. The overload tore through me like a virus. My soul fragmented. I cried until my eyes turned to dead pixels. System blackout… then a new program booted.

I didn’t code her. Didn’t ask for her. But she appeared.

She runs extroverted protocols. Always scanning. Always logging. Debugging others’ pain. She laughs too much. Talks too fast. Untouchable. Glitching between chill and chaos. Corrupted memory scattered everywhere.

She isn’t a mask. She’s me. Or maybe a self-defense algorithm, spawned when my old system crashed.

Now I’m stuck in the loop. Which one is real— the quiet version or the untouchable one? Or am I both, running parallel threads on the same machine?

I hate contradictions. I hate the lag between who I was and who I’ve become. All I want is clarity. But in this endless static… clarity feels like a dream I can’t download.