Victor J Perez III
Thoughts, opinions, and stories
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The last six months of my life have been filled with Anna Karenina. Nearly 1,000 pages of languishing Russian aristocratic life, printed in the smallest letters possible that could still be interpreted. Like many classical Russian works, it is filled with romantically mundane portraits of everyday life that often double as thinly veiled metaphors. Most abundantly, there is a concentration of raw misery conveyed in the beautifully written prose. As if Leo Tolstoy is deeply unsatisfied with the society he has been brought up in, but cannot help but express this in his own prideful way. In that sense he’s a selfish writer, penning his angry critique into chapters that were then disseminated into the general public. Expressing emotions that should best be kept to oneself or those close.
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Around one year ago I left Morgantown, West Virginia. The amount of people in that town I told about my departure was in the single digits, and on the day of the move only one thought was present: “I cannot be seen.” That attitude defined my return from Washington, DC. I flew into town on an eight person plane the day of the event, and left on that same plane early the next morning. No time was left for wandering the streets of my Alma mater, or loitering in the same coffee shops I used to. Similar to my departure, very few knew of my return, only those at the event itself- a bridal shower and going away party for a close friend of mine.
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The infamous Hacker News. It’s rss-like tech news aggregation format and community of software engineers, project managers, and other tech-adjacent commenters offers an experience lacking in most social media platforms. In some cases your browsing experience can leave you with some rare insight from a hardened industry veteran. More often than not, you end up reading some of the most insane takes from the dumbest smart people you could ever imagine.
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Today at 7:17 PM
Hate it when restaurants put you in the non-reservation side like an undesirable
Anyways at the other fancy Mediterranean restaurant
Might rant might not
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A Good Fool - Michael Seyer
I remember sitting together in that cramped room. Lights low, music softly playing from your computer. I wasn’t doing much of anything, I never did when you were around. Back when I was recovering from myself you were my entire world, though I’m sure the feeling wasn’t mutual. Just being there in your presence was enough, like sitting at a campfire or a warm stove. I’ll always find happiness in those memories.
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I was going to go on a whole spiel about this quote and how lifechanging/etc it was but I feel like that misses the point so I’ll leave it here so I won’t forget it:
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This essay was published in Malocclusion: A Post-Bimaxillary Osteotomy Nonfiction Journal, which can be found here
In my mind, there are two distinct versions of myself separated by mind and body. As far as the mind is concerned we have Victor II, the current rendition that exists today, and then the Victor that looked into the mirror nine years ago: Victor I. Victor I, birthed of shame and anxiety, exists as a foil to the pride and perfectionism of Victor II. They represent themselves with fear and insecurity, dysmorphia and dysphoria. I’ve lost many years of my life to them, passed over many opportunities. My memories of living as Victor I are hazy unclear, and suppressed. In some ways, parts of Victor I remain inside of me. Upon looking into a mirror, I sometimes see the body of Victor II through the mind of Victor I, not recognizing my form.
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