conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the first five paragraphs for a book with the title 'Be More Chill'
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Be More Chill
  Dr. Minerva always has such amazing outfits. It's not that she's particularly sexy or beautiful; she just carves herself out well. Today she has a red sweater and red lipstick that is exactly the same red. It's as if she went to the paint store to match them up.
  This is her prompt question. The shrinks always have one prompt question. I've had ones that said "What's up?" "How are we?" and even "What's happening in the world of Craig?" They never change. It's like their jingle.
  She looks completely stone, staring ahead. I don't know how they do this: the psych-poker face. Psychologists should play poker. Maybe they do. Maybe they're the ones who win all the money on TV. Then they have the gall to charge my mom $120/hour. They're very greedy.
  I rolled over on my stomach and balled my fists and held them against my gut like I was praying. The fists pushed my stomach against itself and fooled it into thinking it was full. I held this position, warm, my brain rotating, the seconds whirring by. Only the pure urge, the one thing that never let me down, got me out of bed fifty minutes later.
  The opposite of the Tentacles are the Anchors. The Anchors are things that occupy my mind and make me feel good temporarily. Riding my bike is an Anchor. Doing flash cards is an Anchor. Watching people play video games at Aaron's is an Anchor. The answers are simple and sequential. There aren't any decisions. There aren't any Tentacles. There's just a stack of tasks that you tackle. You don't have to deal with other people.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: another paragraph
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I rolled over on my stomach and balled my fists and held them against my gut like I was praying. The fists pushed my stomach against itself and fooled it into thinking it was full. I held this position, warm, my brain rotating, the seconds whirring by. Only the pure urge, the one thing that never let me down, got me out of bed fifty minutes later.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the last four paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I rolled over on my stomach and balled my fists and held them against my gut like I was praying. The fists pushed my stomach against itself and fooled it into thinking it was full. I held this position, warm, my brain rotating, the seconds whirring by. Only the pure urge, the one thing that never let me down, got me out of bed fifty minutes later.
  The opposite of the Tentacles are the Anchors. The Anchors are things that occupy my mind and make me feel good temporarily. Riding my bike is an Anchor. Doing flash cards is an Anchor. Watching people play video games at Aaron's is an Anchor. The answers are simple and sequential. There aren't any decisions. There aren't any Tentacles. There's just a stack of tasks that you tackle. You don't have to deal with other people.
  Pause. Now we have one of our silent battles; I look at Dr. Minerva and she looks at me. It's a contest as to who will crack first. She puts on her poker face; I don't have any extra faces to put on, just the normal Craig face.
  Dr. Minerva is a good shrink, I think. That isn't the answer. But it is a damn good question. What did I want to be when I grew up?