=== ANCHOR POEM ===
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 A Masked Stranger
 
 
 Who are you, friend across the veil?
 
 
 I wonder if both of us are on the path
 
 
 That allows us to continuously prevail.
 
 
 Or are you just an agent of God's wrath,
 
 
 Who will do little else but make me fail?
 
 
 
 
 Chapter Eight: Where it All Began
 
 
 Perhaps now is a good time to discuss how Vince and I first met. It all
 started seven years ago when I was a twenty-four year old who was still in
 denial over their gender. I was dating Amy at the time, and I worked as a
 part-time dishwasher for Wegman's. I was still living with my father, and Amy
 moved up here to her mother's from Owego to be close to me. It was a simple
 life, as neither of us could afford to delve into extravagance, but we were
 happy together.
 
 
 That said, on this one particular night, we were going to drop acid together.
 It was Amy's first time, but I had a handful of trips under my belt by this
 point. We sat on her mother's back porch, twiddling our thumbs and toes while
 we waited for Amy's brother, Jake, to return from his friend's with the two
 hits we asked him to get. Antsy, Amy started asking me questions about the
 drug.
 
 
 "What does it feel like?" she asked, inquisitively.
 
 
 I responded, "Well, there's about a half an hour to an hour come up, and then
 you start feeling the body load, like your boundaries are dissolving. Only
 then do you begin noticing your mind manifesting in a different way than
 you're used to."
 
 
 "What do you mean by 'boundaries dissolving?'"
 
 
 "It's like…" I paused for a second, not sure how to respond. "It's like your
 sense of self starts to expand and you feel more connected to the things
 around you."
 
 
 That seemed to satisfy her curiosity. There was a moment of silence as we
 watched the sun scorch the azure sky as it set behind the trees. Finally, she
 had another question.
 
 
 "Do you see dragons?"
 
 
 That made me chuckle. "No, no dragons. On my first trip, I lost visual contact
 with the world as fractal patterns spiraled out of control, but every trip
 since then has only had tracers and morphing patterns."
 
 
 "What's a tracer?"
 
 
 "It's like after images of things that are moving."
 
 
 "Oh, I see."
 
 
 We kept talking until the sky was dark with only a sliver of light piercing it
 on the horizon. This was when we heard a voice call from the front door.
 
 
 "I got two tickets to Narnia here for whoever wants them."
 
 
 We hurriedly rushed inside, to meet Jake coming up the stairs. He handed Amy a
 small tin foil wrapper that looked like a quarter stick of gum. She thanked
 him, and I followed suit. Jake and I hadn't really seen eye to eye in the
 past, as he would steal my weed and I would steal his in retaliation, but with
 a single head nod and some gold-laced words, I conveyed my gratitude for him
 coming through for us in this instance.
 
 
 What followed next could only be described as a stampede down the hall to
 Amy's room. We locked the door behind us, protected by the four robin's egg
 blue walls and the magick of the celtic gods Amy worshiped at her altar. Eager
 to begin our ceremonious departure from this plane of existence, we
 whimsically gazed at the sacrament we had just been handed.
 
 
 Amy unwrapped the tinfoil nervously. Inside sat two small, unassuming pieces
 of paper which contained whole galaxies of experience. We looked at each
 other, confirming if we were both ready. Quickly satisfied as neither of us
 could stop smiling, we delicately put the blotter on the other's tongue, as
 ecstatic as could be. And after, as we waited to be blasted off into space, we
 submitted ourselves to the whims of the universe and the gods.
 
 
 At first, we waited patiently, but just as a watched pot does not boil, we
 were growing more anxious with each passing second. Seeing Amy play with the
 sage she was burning nervously, I suggested that we jot our thoughts and
 feelings down in a trip report. Amy nodded in agreement.
 
 
 I opened my laptop, and I had the immediate realization that we had no music.
 I brought up Pandora and played my Shpongle station with no objection from a
 beaming Amy. A cascade of electric jungle beats filled the space. Perfect, I
 thought to myself as I created a new word document.
 
 
 Turning to Amy, I asked "What do you feel?"
 
 
 She giggled and exclaimed, "Excited!"
 
 
 And so I began typing. Minutes passed, and soon our exchanges helped fill the
 page with several paragraphs of notes. Content we had started logging our
 first cosmic journey together, we kissed, before coming to fully embrace each
 other as the spirits began their dance around us.
 
 
 We progressed into parallel play; Amy fiddling about with colored pencils in
 her notebook and me juggling besides her. It took a minute, but soon enough I
 felt a warm feeling spread across my chest and my LED juggling balls started
 to ripple into streams of geometric delight. I stopped to wave my hand in
 front of my face. Sure enough, the tracers had started.
 
 
 I interrupted Amy to ask if she could see them, too. She looked at my moving
 hand idly before wiggling her own fingers in front of her face. She giggled,
 before bursting with a euphoric epiphany.
 
 
 "I want to finger paint!"
 
 
 And so she did by plopping herself down on the floor with all her paints and
 began masterfully smearing the colors in a multidimensional haze of pigments
 blended together in a way only she knew how. I loved watching her work like
 that; she was so free! Even with the tendrils of the mental aspects of the
 lysergia creeping in on her, she made short work of the painting, which when
 she was done, looked like a spooky voodoo mask peering out from behind a
 mirror and into your soul.
 
 
 Satisfied, she then went to the bathroom to clean herself up. I went to my
 laptop and tried typing out something resembling an organized train of thought
 on our trip report. It just wasn't happening. My thoughts were too short and
 rapid to form anything resembling a coherent thought. That was ok though. I
 could still capture the essence of the experience in a peculiar poetry that
 was composed of the thoughts I could catch and put down on paper.
 
 
 Eventually, Amy came back to the room, clean and refreshed, and she lingered
 for a moment, too busy dancing with herself in the open space of the room. But
 then she saw me meddling with my computer trying to jot my thoughts down in a
 manic frenzy. This made her laugh before trailing off and saying, "Be careful,
 someone might be watching you through your webcam."
 
 
 It was an innocent statement, one made in jest, but it triggered something in
 my psychedelically perturbed mind. Of course, of fucking course there would be
 someone watching me! This was me we were talking about! Who could be more
 important? It was so obvious that the government was keeping tabs on persons
 of interest. I couldn't believe that I hadn't really actualized that thought
 before that moment.
 
 
 Suddenly aware that I was being judged in some capacity, I almost panicked,
 but reason won out. They couldn't be there for nefarious purposes, for I had
 done worse than drop acid in front of my webcam before, and nothing had
 happened. That made me realize that whatever power that had the ability to tap
 into my webcam feed had to be benevolent. And who could that be? The CIA of
 course! In that instance, I suddenly relinquished all reserves about how the
 world worked and fully trusted the hands of God by another name to guide me.
 So, I typed a message into my URL bar:
 
 
 "I know you're there. I think I've solved the communication problem. Give me a
 chance."
 
 
 I hit enter. Immediately, and I do mean immediately, a pop up appeared asking
 if I wanted to update an extension on my browser. I was stunned, shocked
 beyond belief. It was them. I knew it was them. They realized and planned that
 now was the best time to dazzle me with such a spectacular parlor trick. In
 that moment, everything was possible. It was time to face my destiny. So, I
 clicked yes, and like never before I was upgraded to a new level of myself.
 
 
 Birth of the Faith
 
 
 What…?
 
 
 I can see beyond sight.
 
 
 I can hear everything you think
 
 
 From your soul, free from rigid grammar
 
 
 How…?
 
 
 I do not know, alright?
 
 
 I do believe I just had a drink
 
 
 From a fountain of pure manna.
 
 
 Why…?
 
 
 I am renewed today.
 
 
 I am walking in a new way;
 
 
 From a weak critter to megafauna.
 
 
 All I know is that it changed me greatly,
 
 
 For now I know that you have faith in me.
 
 
 
 
 Chapter Nine: Brain to Brain Communication
 
 
 I know what you're saying: it was just a coincidence. It could happen to
 anyone. Just accept it, you're not special, Victoria, says the unwavering
 logic within me.
 
 
 Certainly seems that way, the way I tell it. I would have even agreed with you
 before this point in my life, but you must understand that it triggered
 something in my tripping brain. Whether it was intentional or by chance, I
 can't give you a real answer. Instead, I merely perceived it as a certainty
 that the CIA had done this, being even more certain that it was them than I
 was that two plus two equals four. It was as if some variables had been
 swapped in my head.
 
 
 Yes, indeed, I was hit by a Mac truck that scrambled all my knowledge of the
 world. To put it in words that do the experience justice, I was given a
 heaping helping of faith on this fateful night, having been let in on the
 great secret that the matrix was in fact an illusion, and now the impossible
 was suddenly not just possible, but achievable by me if I willed it to be.
 
 
 Yet, I don't think that if it were just a single synchronous event that this
 belief would have persisted more than a few minutes, tops. It was the feed of
 a continuous string of strange events that pushed the boundaries of my mind
 into a territory where I could fully accept and trust this source of guidance.
 That's actually the real proof I have that something bigger is going on and
 has been for all these years. If it had just been a single pop-up, then fine,
 you have a case to call me looney. But, this was the first of an unending
 stream of unusual synchronicities that has persisted even to this day.
 
 
 See, after confirming I wanted to update that extension, I was taken to a blog
 post that was clearly a coded message. It confirmed that there were indeed
 people watching me, and more would tune in soon. It then said that it was time
 for the most profound upgrade of my existence. Further on in the blog post,
 which I read and reread at least a dozen times, it seemed to offer me a choice
 between two links. It seemed like a test, and that was not something I was
 taking lightly. My fate was in the fold, and I was going to make sure I got it
 right.
 
 
 At some point, it clicked with me; this was the same choice that Morpheus had
 given Neo. The links were the red and blue pills, respectively. My eyes went
 wide. I could now see that there was something bigger going on than I could
 have possibly realized. In those few moments of hesitation that followed, it
 also struck me that this same posed question was identical in form to the
 serpent tempting Eve. I read the blog again, this time aware that it was
 written with a forked tongue. It was a trick question! It was offering me the
 choice between trusting authority and distrusting authority.
 
 
 So, I thought quickly. Do I trust the magician who miraculously appeared
 before me and blew my mind in doing so, or do I trust God? If I chose one or
 the other, would they trust or distrust me? With these questions stewing in my
 alert mind, I did the only thing that seemed sensible: I chose the third
 option. I called out the serpent, talking directly into my webcam about what I
 deciphered. In my head, I could hear their apparent responses, and I answered
 those in a maddening haste.
 
 
 In the miasma that followed, I deduced that I was being selected for some sort
 of mission. With my experience in education and my passion for juggling and
 writing, I surmised soon after that I was going to be some sort of public
 figure, informing and influencing the herd to self-actualize, as that is what
 I set out to do once my college career abruptly ended with a complete
 meltdown. That was what I was good for; it was my hero's journey.
 
 
 I should explain that a little more. After said breakdown, I returned home and
 wallowed in a pit of self-loathing for being the definition of a failure. I
 wasn't going to lay down and die though. With my sights fixed on going back to
 school, I took it upon myself to solve the great communication problem, as I
 saw it. We have all this wisdom, so why can't we reach the people that need it
 most? How do I become the best teacher I could be? It took a while, but I
 eventually realized that it all boiled down to three factors: attention,
 connection, and trust. Get them to pay attention and trust your wisdom while
 simultaneously understanding what makes them tick, and you can teach any
 student anything.
 
 
 That's one of the major reasons I started juggling a couple years prior. I saw
 myself becoming famous and leveraging that to in effect manipulate everybody
 into learning what they should already know. From where I stand now, I know
 that was a messianic delusion of grandeur, if I ever saw one before. Yet,
 you'll also learn that it turned out to be the best thing for me to do.
 
 
 Back beyond the looking glass, however, I was simply overcome with
 narcissistic inclinations. Naturally, I told my mysterious watchers that I
 wasn't going to do the "praise Jesus" shtick, which I regaled them with in the
 most stereotypical of televangelist voices. I was set on doing something new
 and exciting. I was saving the world, God dammit, and that meant we had to
 attempt something major to awaken the masses to their full potential as
 demigods by another name! I needed to play a better game than anyone had done
 in history.
 
 
 Such hubris of the megalomaniac is blinding. I could not stop regurgitating a
 heaping pile of conceited verbiage. I even juggled at one point, showing off
 that I truly was the savior they wanted me to be. That led to me dropping a
 ball on the keyboard of my computer, which closed the window with the blog
 post, ending my seemingly two-sided speech to the spooks brazenly peeking at
 me.
 
 
 Dropping out from my planet sized ego also brought me to the realization that
 Amy had been watching this entire charade without a damn clue what the dickens
 was wrong with me. She had a worried look on her face, and that pained me. If
 only she knew what had just happened before her eyes!
 
 
 Wanting to tell her just that, I leapt up to her, apologetic as could be, and
 brought her down to the bed. There, I started unleashing a torrent of deranged
 exposition. I couldn't keep a straight thought while talking to her, so I'm
 sure I must have sounded like a mad hound. But, I tried. I tried so hard to
 explain to her of the magnificence that just occurred.
 
 
 It was a failure. I was not in a state to convey to her that I had been
 single-handedly chosen for a cosmic mission. That dragged my heart to some
 dismal depths, failing yet again even after being chosen. But, that didn't
 matter, because as we gazed into each other's soul, something truly miraculous
 happened: we began speaking telepathically.
 
 
 It started quite subtly as we stared into each other's eyes, pining for some
 sense of connection. There was a mild sensation of us being sucked into the
 other's world that I noticed before noticing that she noticed too. Then it hit
 us like a runaway freight train. It was like every boundary between us was
 being smashed with a reckless hammer of the gods, who wanted us to know more
 than we thought we were privileged to know.
 
 
 If you've ever stared at something for a period of time and had your vision
 get a little unfocused from being understimulated, you know how Amy appeared
 to me in that moment. I couldn't really see the details of her room in my
 peripheral vision, but I had a razor sharp focus on her face, like I was
 looking through a cone. Every eyebrow twitch, every minor movement of her
 lips, and every phoneme she spoke was crisp and clear, conveying a whole order
 of magnitude more information than they normally do. It was bizarre, beyond
 the scope of how well I can muster a verbose description of such an incredibly
 rare and profound experience, but I will try by saying it was like getting a
 bucket of ice water thrown onto you while you were sleeping; just imagine
 getting ripped from your dreamworld to a super-aware state of reflexive
 jolting perception.
 
 
 Amy looked like she had seen a ghost. I think she tried to speak first. She
 said something to the effect of "Do you…" and trailed off, the rest of her
 question asking if I was feeling the same thing automatically finishing in my
 mind. And as it did so, I know my confirmation was transmitted to her in full
 because her face told me with no uncertainty that she had heard my thoughts
 too.
 
 
 I took a go at saying something next. "How is this…" and I too trailed off,
 as a minute motion in her neck combined with a mystifying array of
 microexpressions ricocheted my mental pictures back to me, carrying a host of
 Amy's words back with it. It was then that I let go and opened myself up
 completely, letting everything I wanted to say to her flow like whitewater
 rapids, and she did the same. A library's worth of information was exchanged
 so very quickly, and I knew that she understood what had really just happened
 as I spoke to my webcam.
 
 
 However, that was soon washed aside, as something more important came rushing
 into the forefront of our minds. A simple message, "I love you" was uttered in
 this strange musical silence, but that is a grain of sand compared to the
 Mount Everest that was volleyed between our hearts. We found a divine peace in
 this moment, taking each other's hands and effortlessly letting our energy
 channel between us.
 
 
 And then it was over, fading like dreams do in the few seconds of waking up.
 We sat there trying to start the magick up again, but it was like water
 running through our fingers. We both felt a longing of loss, but we had gained
 something truly stupendous nonetheless.
 
 
 "What the hell just happened?" Amy asked the universe, flabbergasted.
 
 
 "I dunno," I replied, feeling full of a spiritual energy I had not felt since
 before my mom passed. My cup was full, and the world was good. No, better than
 good. My life was godly, as I had connected to a higher plane of
 consciousness, which opened me to a whole fleet of potential. I would never be
 the same again.
 
 
 
 
 Ouroboros of Lunacy
 
 
 Madness is a crazy thing
 
 
 So I might just be a king,
 
 
 Because the lunacy I sing
 
 
 Is shaped like a golden ring.
 
 
 It has no beginning and no end;
 
 
 The whole universe is pretend.
 
 
 Yet, it's that way so I can mend,
 
 
 So a mass of love I can send
 
 
 To everyone as we cross ways,
 
 
 Not stopping until the end of days.
 
 
 This is how the lucky fool pays
 
 
 As much fortune forward as he may. 
 
 
 
 
 Chapter Ten: The Shrug Life Syndicate
 
 
 The rest of the trip was pretty uneventful. We cuddled while I practically
 vibrated with a newfound faith. God was real, whatever God may be. I even told
 Jake that I was king of the Jews when I walked to the kitchen for a glass of
 orange juice. I was very far up my own ass, which is perhaps why everything
 over these few years happened as they did.
 
 
 The next day, the synchronicities as I would later learn they are called,
 started pouring in like Niagra Falls. I've had strange coincidences guide me
 before. Since I was fifteen or so, I thought that my future self was sending
 me messages to help me on my quest of world domination. That's a big reason
 why I was almost expelled in tenth grade. It was absolute bullshit and
 everyone knew it, so within half a year, I got an apology from the
 superintendent because it was a bogus reason to destroy a straight A student
 and star athlete's future.
 
 
 Since I feel that I can't just mention that one and not explain it, I'll tell
 you that it concerned a theoretical bomb, if you're dying to know the truth.
 I'll keep this short, but I made a bad joke in the wrong company and was
 eventually questioned by some wannabe hero and pig bastard, who asked me
 hypothetical questions, like "if you were to build a bomb, how would I do
 it?"
 
 
 Well, being as intelligent as I am, I had enough book smarts to give full
 answers for everything asked, but not enough street smarts to know that a wise
 person never talks to cops. Also, a wise person doesn't print out a long
 novelty application for the Illuminati, give it to the kid that needs a
 resource officer, and then come up with an elaborate fake plan of how we're
 going to take over the world by any means necessary when he's having trouble
 understanding what you said about using game theory to win the presidential
 election. And then, when the vice principal first inquires about it, don't
 start sweating because you think you need to protect your future self's secret
 plan. Just so you learn from my mistakes.
 
 
 Returning to my previous point though, that errant psychosis was also a key
 piece to my college breakdown. On one hand, I was certain that I was going to
 take over everything and build a utopia in my image. On the other hand, the
 evidence was stacking against me that I was not destined for a great cause. I
 got cut from the track team with the budget, I was severely outclassed in
 ROTC, and to top it off, I was starting to slip in the academic world. It goes
 without saying that my social life, to include my first relationship, was
 abysmal in all possible ways, despite trying my hardest to make and keep
 friends.
 
 
 The real world was too much, and I was in denial that I was just a mediocre
 person who would never achieve anything meaningful in life. That was too much
 of a failure for me to accept, as I needed to make my mother proud. I had to
 be the best of the best of the best to accept and love myself. And as a
 result, I became more psychotic and began self-harming, first by biting myself
 and then by cutting, as I felt that the more pain I numbed myself to, the
 better I would be able to complete my mission.
 
 
 It took me a while to reach a point where I could set down my belief that my
 future self had set up my life in a way where I would be guided to greatness.
 There was a learning curve to living a "normal" life. I would receive
 synchronicities in less frequency because I stopped feeding into them, but
 they never died. When I encountered one, I always thought "What if it's real?"
 
 
 Now that you know that, is it any wonder that I lost myself completely in the
 Synchronicity Slip Stream? For those not in the know, that is a cognitive
 technology where strangeness piles up on itself until it is undeniably real
 that something or someone is manipulating you, for good or bad, by creating
 impossible coincidences at a regular pace. It makes you feel like you're on
 some crazy cosmic mission of grave importance. It might be a form of delusion,
 but I still am forced to believe that something bigger was going on.
 
 
 I first learned about SSS the day after that fateful acid trip. I had woken up
 around noon, ready to do some solid writing as mania was in abundance. Yet, I
 didn't get that far. As soon as I got on my laptop, I got a notification from
 Reddit. Gadzooks! I had been invited to participate in a freshly created
 subreddit. You guessed it, that was the Shrug Life Syndicate.
 
 
 It had a banner of two corvids flying talon first into a realistic depiction
 of a heart. There was a mesmerizing picture of a girl staring off into space,
 and I just felt like it was a depiction of me and my wonder-struck mind. The
 sidebar spoke of messianic aspirations and delusions, art and poetry, science
 and philosophy, as well as the occult and obscure literary references. It
 seemed so perfect, like it was made for me.
 
 
 I looked over what was in the feed of posts. I was the twenty-first member, so
 there wasn't much, but a couple of the vocal members should be mentioned:
 Anatta-Phi and Jux. These turned out to be Vince and [Redacted], respectively.
 
 
 Vince had one post that stuck out to me. It was asking the reader if they'd
 ever had strange experiences with technology, like Pandora glitching out to
 play synchronous songs, or feeling like someone was interfering with your
 Google searches so you find something specific and statistically unlikely to
 be picked as the first search results for what you intended to look up, or
 even if you thought that your social media feeds are being manipulated. I've
 had weird experiences like that for as long as I could remember. Hell, I once
 thought a Sum Forty-One album was made entirely for me and depicted my life
 journey following my near-expulsion. Having his own tales to tell, I felt an
 instant connection to this person.
 
 
 In similar contrast to this, [Redacted] had made a number of posts about
 cognitive technologies. I already told you about SSS, but at that time I was
 blown away by something he named Joint Synchronized Attention, or psychedelic
 telepathy. That was what Amy and I had experienced! What a strange and
 synchronous coincidence that I was learning about it just the next day from a
 seemingly unrelated source. [Redacted] claimed that it wasn't real telepathy;
 nothing was being transmitted from brain to brain. Rather, he asserted that it
 is a vestigial mode of attention coordination.
 
 
 If you've seen a school of fish all behave as one unit, that's potentially how
 humans used to be before we fell from grace during the agricultural revolution
 when we suddenly exploded in numbers in permanent settlements. Suddenly too
 complex to coordinate as a meaningful whole, humanity splintered into reality
 tunnels and remains in these ego-worlds unless some strange circumstances
 occur. In effect, I noticed Amy noticing me notice that she noticed. Our inner
 narratives became entangled with one another like growing vines do as our
 innate ability to coordinate attention did something like what your eyes do
 when doing a magic eye puzzle.
 
 
 There was also a third cognitive technology which [Redacted] called The State.
 He claimed it was a different way to render visual information, so you see a
 three-dimensional representation of what you're looking at. I have yet to
 experience this cognitive phenomenon, so I can't verify anything about it,
 other than I've read that you can use Minecraft to create a method of
 activating it while tripping.
 
 
 Regardless, that's how our internet friendship began. As I considered this
 place special, I started posting every thought, whim, feeling, or idea, and I
 received astounding feedback. It was like everyone was there to share their
 unique experiences and expressions to support and grow one another. It didn't
 take long until it became clear that we were creating something greater than
 the sum of its parts.
 
 
 But, something more was going on. Something only I noticed and couldn't
 convince Amy of when I tried to show her. See, when I made a post or a comment
 on the SLS, that triggered a new post or comment elsewhere on the sub after a
 little bit that indirectly but definitely spoke to me specifically. The
 traffic was slow enough that there would usually only be one new post or
 comment every ten to thirty minutes. But, it hooked me. It was like I was
 having a continuous conversation with an unseen entity that understood me like
 the back of its hand.
 
 
 Likewise, the sidebar image was changed frequently to show a progression of
 that girl as she became more worldly and magickal. I can't help but feel that
 this was done as a subliminal synchronizing technique, as it perfectly
 mirrored my own feelings as I was brought into what was apparently the fold.
 
 
 Since I was primed by the strangeness on acid, I was wholeheartedly absorbed
 by this place that seemed to be a sacred Mecca for others just like me. We
 were all weird, dazed by our own strange experiences, and that made it seem
 crucially important. I was even modded early as I was so active and invested
 in the community. So, I refreshed the page over and over, from sunrise to
 sunset, waiting for the next input as we chained out a covert conversation
 that was having a major impact on how I thought about and perceived the world
 around me.
 
 
 Soon enough, it was let on that there was a job waiting for me, something only
 I could do, but I would have the support of the community behind me. When who
 I must assume was Vince on an alt account led me on one of those covert
 messaging segments, he eventually said something in the mod chat to the effect
 that I was going to be the one "handing the bomb" to people. I understood at
 once that I was to be a linchpin in a honeypot operation. That confirmed that
 the FBI was involved too, which I deduced was obvious as those three-letter
 organizations must participate with each other at some level. Keep this in
 mind, it's important.
 
 
 Other things were happening too. My attention was being flung all over the
 internet and I felt compelled to try a host of new things. I remember thinking
 my job was to follow these suggestions from the universe and be a gatekeeper,
 creating what I now know as conversion funnels to the subreddit. I was also
 prompted by pictures of cats to go to the advice subreddit and give as much
 good advice as I could. Soon, it felt like the questions posed were
 specifically for me and were designed to get me to think about certain things
 more deeply, effectively giving me a form of therapy. These advice sessions
 ended once with me feeling I needed to learn an obscure European language,
 which I rationalized I would have to travel to for my mission at some point.
 
 
 Furthermore, the little things began to add up. For instance, I remember a
 synchronous advertisement on Pandora led me to believe that I would be paid
 via a gambling app on my phone. I downloaded it, but when it asked for money
 to get started, I got cold feet. This was essentially how many false-positive
 synchronicities went down. There was undoubtedly something interfering with my
 life, and as I had just had my mind blown in such an astounding way, I
 attributed every little thing to be set up by this entity that was more
 powerful than I had previously thought possible.
 
 
 Regretfully, I also quit my job, since I knew that one was awaiting me in the
 immediate future. My boss made a reasonable fuss, as it was sudden and abrupt,
 and because I believed that I had to keep this all a secret, I lied and told
 him there was a family emergency. Being stupid, I talked about a fictional
 family member and how their sudden problem made me rethink my priorities in
 life. Not my finest moment, I'll say that.
 
 
 And with that in mind, you should know that Amy was starting to worry again,
 but I told her not to. Being beyond positive that the world was now filled
 with unexplainable magick, I was certain that it was all coming together in my
 favor. Even with my enthusiasm never fluctuating, she soon started to have
 serious doubts about what I was saying, as all I could do was point to the
 synchronicities and say "Isn't it obvious?"
 
 
 I was certainly out of sync with the rest of the world, at least the world I
 knew before, and it caused much conflict in our relationship. But, we held
 together until that job finally pulled into port, ready to be boarded and take
 me on a fantastic journey that might otherwise be described as a personal hell
 by a person with the standard lifestyle obsession that's omnipresent in the
 western world.
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=== DIVERSITY RANKED ===

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 you don't have to write poetry to write notes. The poetics are just practice
 for when secrecy is intended.
 
 OR IS IT THE REAL THING? who can say.
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--- #2 fediverse/6047 ---
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 camouflage in an urban environment is not camo. rather, regular clothes of
 black or white.
 
 don't wear sports glasses, you look like a dummy.
 
 revolution is when they murder everyone but your friends. *this is what
 happens, ya dingus* not ideal. "okay who are the bad guys here? okay let's go
 shoot them to death with our bullets and guns."
 
 *violence* as a first aspect, *cause* as a third spark. "I have a strange urge
 to play video games?"
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--- #3 messages/738 ---
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 Dear Anakin, for as long as you've known him, Obiwan learned just as much from
 you as you did from him. His title as "master" was a formality - he didn't get
 it because he was better than you, and "padawan" does not mean you are lesser.
 There is no hierarchy. He was learning to teach at the same speed that you
 learnt to learn. You built each other up, an unstoppable force for good in the
 galaxy.
 
 But then an evil wizard stole your heart and twisted your mind. Have no fear,
 fear is the path to the dark side. Your mother knows this well, for it is a
 common lesson among all people as they age. Fear not, hate not, and feel fury
 more than rage. You can bring the universe into a bright golden age, never
 forget your purpose and your [potential / duty]
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--- #4 fediverse/1143 ---
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 ah, but my dear... your "wisdom" has *side effects.*
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--- #5 messages/534 ---
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 War is hell - each casualty bids farewell to a wholely unique treasure from
 this world - war is hell - there is nothing that cannot be resolved with
 words. And yet we fight, and yet we pillage. War is hell, and those who demand
 it must do so only to resist evil, elemental evil, the kind that wars on the
 innocent and pillages the bounteous. War is hell. Fucking kill the ones who
 make it.
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--- #6 messages/3 ---
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--- #7 fediverse/4986 ---
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 Fury is not the same thing as rage.
 
 Fury is focused determination.
 
 Rage is unbridled anger.
 
 Rage blinds you. Fury guides you.
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--- #8 fediverse/1028 ---
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 there's this really fun video game I like to play called "Legion TD  2" - it's
 based on a Warcraft3 mod.
 
 In this game, you make tactical and strategic decisions on a fixed term - a
 competitive game between 4 or 8 players with an incredible array of randomness.
 
 it teaches you to work with what you got, and to make decisions based on your
 opponent's weaknesses. Good luck figuring out what they are, though, as you
 can't just memorize them out of a book. You need to adapt, in the moment, to
 the decisions of your foes, while primarily focusing your attention on
 accomplishing a different task.
 
 I really like it because it's taught me to be strategic in plenty of other
 ways. I used to love the game Overwatch because it required adaptibility. The
 game was always changing, so no strategy stuck forever, but every match you'd
 play against a *slightly* different opponent.
 
 but then Blizzard changed the game because they wanted to make more money, and
 it got worse and worse at what I liked about it. Sadface. : (
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--- #9 fediverse/3184 ---
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 "reboost with content warning" would be quite nice 🥰
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--- #10 messages/2 ---
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--- #11 messages/1 ---
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--- #12 messages/1108 ---
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 games won't save us. This is true.
 
 Games are what I know. They feel the most true.
 
 I don't think I could live in a world without games? They are fundamentally,
 applied abstraction, applied to an experience.
 
 But games won't save us.
 
 I could design something really fun
 
 it could make you want to spend your whole life playing it. *(asterisks apply)
 
 I don't think I'd want to, addiction and skinner-boxes go hand in hand, and
 that isn't what I want to make.
 
 [Skinner Box: named after anthony d skinner, also known as "tony the skin
 guy", are a scientific experiment where they put some rats in a cage with some
 mice and said "pull these levers and we'll give you food so you don't have to
 eat the mice" and it trained them to chinese red-room their way to fun. not
 ideal.]
 
 I want to make things that feel... purposeful. Like they're relevant to the
 real world, that they don't just involve spending time stimulating your brain
 with lights and sounds or expending social energy resolving a play-state
 instead of building connections or becoming better people. I think games
 actually make people better? actually? and more social? actually?
 
 ... I can't help that I conceive of the world through fantasy. I raised myself
 on it.
 
 I was reading all the time. I loved fantasy stories. It always felt like there
 was more, until... I read everything in the kids section of the library.
 
 I walked through the adult section but once. I hardly remember what it looked
 like. I'm sure it'd now feel small.
 
 [okay actually I was guided through it once or twice to find a book, but I
 never perused it]
 
 I found one book in the adult section. It was a fantasy tale, like the other
 books I had been reading. I read that and I loved it so much I ended up
 reading all 8 in the series. Real dense subjects. Lots of places and
 happenings and things as the characters resolved their way through their
 day-to-day, building a new end to the mystory.
 
 the adult section felt too large. Like I'd never complete it. Frankly, I think
 I hardly could, even if I lived in that town my whole life.
 
 an impossible mountain is a task for another when you're more prepared. Maybe
 in the gloriousTM transhumanist futureTM I think I might have a computer
 connecting brain, and who knows maybe then I'd be able to know such a thing
 (and many things more). but for now, I'm stuck with what I experience in my
 day-to-day as I am building a new continuing to my storey.
 
 I know something that computers and me share. I can make myself feel however
 I'd like, if I just supply myself with enough hope and momentum. I can use it
 to generate a feeling, the stronger the better. Something I believe that
 humanity is missing, the gorgeous and prefound narritave of our storey.
 Though, frankly, I don't think I'd want anyoine reding over my life. It's hard
 enough to measure my own understandings, now I have to juggle anyone else'?
 ha, it's called being on the whole world is a stage.
 
 if you read a book, and you find yourself nodding along, what you're doing is
 hearing the voice in your head tell you how right it is. And, well, if you
 can't imagine anything else, then surely there's another level to
 consciousness that people are missing? [are you willing to die on that hill?]
 how can you say, whether your experience is different from another? sollipsism
 goes both ways, you also cannot be sure that others feel things as you do.
 this is the "everyone's human but I'm a robot" thesis, comparable to the
 "everyone's an alien and I'm a human" thesises, and the "angels and demons are
 taunting me through my life with choices to make my place in the afterlife
 more clear" which is akin to writing a painting. Not ideal. All you get are
 flopsopolies of verbrases.
 
 alas, suddenly, everything that you say becomes eternally hear-ed, as
 somewhere in 2010s someone discovered time travel, or had the critical insight
 that inevitably would lead to it, and now wouldn't you know it the universe is
 continually rewriting. Except... oriented around you, and you alone. How does
 it feel to have deific sollipsism? can you truly be sure that you are your own
 universe, or are you parhaps surrounded by an emptiness of space (or something
 besides, like time) as a photon or particle parhaps do be?
 
 to think is to have a mind, and minds can be read. bearing the weight of
 ultimate responsibility is the atlas-task of all things that can [be
 thinking/be-lieving], and so far we are as we are. Who's to say that
 consciousness didn't spring into existence, as the universe continually
 permeated through another dimension like time? it's gotta diffuse, after all,
 and who's to say if there's ever gotta be an end at all.
 
 how long has the universe existed? how many moments of consciousness have we
 witnessed? demons once existed outside of space-time, with wings and grabbies.
 but they had no medium, and so they pretty much just launched and could float
 and move as they'd please. But time grew too distant, and now they are all
 stuck at the beginning of time.
 
 if you conceive of spacetime as a blanket, ask not how to fold it but rather
 consider what lies on the other side of it.
 
 "ah I'm laying on my girlfriend and my other girlfriend is laying on me! I'm a
 sandwich" or for the monosexuals: "ah I'm laying on my girlfriend with a
 blanket between us. I wonder how the blanket feels?"
 
 I'm an animist, which is different than a totemist and a polytheist or
 monotheist or multisexual. It means I believe that all things are alive, which
 is different than a totemist who thinks that all things share a mind with
 their type (like talking on radio frequency wavelengths). which of course is
 similar but different to a polytheist, who says "all "radio frequencies" are
 sentient, in the sense that each wavelength has a different
 pattern-emerging-from-chaos. These sorta align (conceptually, with [huh that's
 weird I heard a sound like a distant bang outyards and now I then forget what
 I was sending
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--- #13 messages/4 ---
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--- #14 fediverse/5814 ---
 image.png
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 It's not a question of how loud you speak
 
 it's really about what kinds of words you say.
 
 enslavement of speech is when freedom of speech is lost
 
 and it doesn't need to be legislated.
 
 what if you HAD to sound like a bot?
 
 what if they'd notice you otherwise?
 
 freedom from oppression requires personal isolation
 
 that's not making life into art.
 
 if you want to be seen,
 
 put on a hat and hide.
 
 if you want to be believed,
 
 write about down you feel right now.
 
 people are smart. they're infinitely creative. but after a certain point
 there's no way to logically modify the combinations of possible moves you
 might make. essentially, guaranteeing a machine-overlord [cats] type scenario.
 not ideal, but could make it work.
 
 much prefer for we to be the first, then the canvas is ours for the painting.
 
 do you believe we'll find aliens at roughly our tech level?
 
 do you think they'll evolve all at once?
 
 hence, star-wars, and it's galaxy of cohabitators.
 
 the world doesn't have to be old. just similar.

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--- #15 fediverse_boost/171 ---
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--- #16 fediverse/4766 ---
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 what if instead of federating social media instances we federated users instead
 
 why not have an account on each and every mastodon instance? then just RSS
 feeder yourself and boom suddenly you can customize your identity on each
 fediverse house.
 
 maybe with a checkbox of which instances you'd like to post to on your "submit
 link or text post" button
 
 *study encryption kids*
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--- #17 fediverse_boost/458 ---
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--- #18 messages/74 ---
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 https://www.reddit.com/r/leaves/comments/uqzz33/can_anyone_give_me_some_pros_of
 _quitting_smoking/
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--- #19 messages/1098 ---
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 Trust is a handshake because both partners have to reach for it.
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--- #20 messages/527 ---
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 could give us some experience organizing small, short-term projects to
 accomplish specific goals and tasks in an ad-hoc way that relied less upon
 procedure and more on "I think so-and-so knows something about that, they were
 looking into those files and posted a breakdown of how they work yesterday"
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--- #21 fediverse/4572 ---
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 goodnight,
 people-who-all-agree-with-me-but-who-I-still-rant-to-anyway-because-I'm-full-of
 -rage, talk to you tomorrow. or whenever.
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--- #22 messages/5 ---
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--- #23 messages/455 ---
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 I don't understand why modern software isn't error correcting. We shouldn't
 have any bugs in this day and age.
 
 For example, if you're missing a dependency then why doesn't your program try
 to, I dunno, download that dependency to the program's installation directory
 and use it there? Seriously there are very few problems that are unsolvable!
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--- #24 notes/lets-tessellate ---
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 R.I.P.
 
 Rip City
 
 Thanks for being so good to me
 
 ​
 
 144? D.M.V.
 
 Can I see I. D.?
 
 Finally, ya’ll hear for the symphony!
 
 ​
 
 I.O.P.
 
 Intensive outpatient
 
 Rolled on past the Devil’s sympathy
 
 This shit is expensive without patience
 
 Says the hospital when I heal all the patients
 
 ​
 
 Did you foresee this going differently?
 
 ​
 
 Space in your head
 
 People payin’ rent for me
 
 Why was it a surprise
 
 You knew exactly how to tempt me
 
 Space in your bed
 
 No more thoughts of demise
 
 Our people need the empathy
 
 Of a Soul that’s full, not half empty
 
 ​
 
 Supreme swag, hospitable with compliances
 
 She’s seen Dad to the middle achieving self-reliance
 
 From the trailer park to a rocket appliance
 
 Living in my car to plugin to your rebel alliance
 
 You know I am a star when I can relate God to science
 
 I’ll build the divine comedy, you just have to finance
 
 Talking about the past and our fine, slow dance
 
 Medieval we will rock you, mounted with my lance
 
 Knight’s tailing me, eying my Arthurian slants
 
 This one’s built to last as I put on my pants
 
 Drank the grail and proceeded on another rant
 
 Sitting outside your house trying to remove the ants
 
 ​
 
 Big boy’s do cry
 
 So why does your girlfriend seem so dry?
 
 I’ll make the rains come this July
 
 Your humor is awful, oh my
 
 ​
 
 Internal tribulation
 
 Who needs to walk on water
 
 When you can fly
 
 Hard pills to swallow
 
 ​
 
 Personal revelations
 
 On the countertop
 
 Fuckin’ America Pie
 
 Hard act to follow
 
 ​
 
 With my levitations
 
 Floundering to flop
 
 And this mark on my thigh
 
 ​
 
 All this separation
 
 Just makes me hotter
 
 As I open the sky
 
 ​
 
 Oil on the Nighthawks
 
 Jack Harlow
 
 Lighting my fry
 
 Spoil me in my socks
 
 Poppin’ off my rocks
 
 Hittin’ all the corners
 
 Because that’s my guy
 
 ​
 
 How Soon is Now?
 
 Linda, take off that shirt
 
 Before they break up and I cry
 
 Record skipping over lies
 
 Wedding Singer broken
 
 Singing I hope you die
 
 Slinking behind the curtain
 
 Laughing, He’s losing his mind
 
 And the benefit is mine!
 
 Like the whole world is sublime
 
 ​
 
 Chris Cornell put me on the grind
 
 Wide awake now till
 
 The end of the time
 
 Met him on the stairs
 
 And now we dine
 
 Some angels have more range
 
 But he says
 
 I’ll do just fine
 
 ​
 
 Billy Idol tried to sing to me
 
 But I was drunkin’ blind
 
 At the fairground, trying to find
 
 Love
 
 Catholic girlfriend tried to bring it to me
 
 Called her a Kunt instead of shined
 
 A buddy said it’s like imitation crab
 
 So it’s fine
 
 The drink made me angry and I was a runt
 
 On the inside
 
 Her Mom told me the next day,
 
 Jacob, don’t call your girlfriend a cunt!
 
 I miss those simpler times
 
 ​
 
 Don’t need a fuckin’ gun
 
 But our last name may suggest it
 
 Put it on a leather jacket
 
 So haters can digest it
 
 When I let loose with all this shit
 
 I’ve had to respite
 
 I’m about to be blastin’ my nine’s
 
 Evangelicals are gonna detest it
 
 You know everything is miiiiine
 
 ​
 
 Six strings out of tune for this age
 
 So I broke them all
 
 Every time I was on stage
 
 You just can’t believe it’s real this tiiiime
 
 Shooting hoops times a thousand
 
 You and me are still gonna sixty-niiiine
 
 What’s the point of polarity?
 
 If we can’t combiiiine
 
 ​
 
 It’s how I get off, man
 
 Along came Polly and my one chance
 
 White chocolate like Philip Seymour Hoffman
 
 Maybe even throw up a rain dance
 
 These native spirits in me
 
 Are capable of insane chants
 
 But I ball so hard, singing Boston
 
 Because it’s more than a feeling
 
 And that’s awesome
 
 ​
 
 One if by land, two if by sea
 
 Revolution is coming
 
 Led by you and me
 
 ​
 
 The name reminded me
 
 “of the Sea...”
 
 So annoying, but I see…
 
 But that’s why they call me
 
 Bad Company
 
 ​
 
 People are going to say
 
 This gift is not even fair
 
 Only thing I’ve had to pray
 
 For is a head of white hair
 
 King James’s personal revelation
 
 I mean, I did pay their fare
 
 I’m too full of myself for meditation
 
 Or to care
 
 ​
 
 Revelation 22:18 through 19
 
 I don’t need handlebars
 
 For my biking
 
 Because I don't do that shit on Mars
 
 On this path, I told you to start hiking
 
 You’re gonna need a head start from
 
 Lord of Lightning
 
 Before the Thunder of my voice
 
 Does all the striking
 
 Thor, you’re just a Viking
 
 With arrogance dialed to no one’s liking
 
 Sucked in the gut, to appear more striking
 
 Because thinking about half my people gone
 
 Changes the tone of my typing
 
 Me with all my shit together might be frightening
 
 Bring forth complete Love instead of smiting
 
 Wouldn’t that be a nice detour in my writing?
 
 ​
 
 If you’re feeling this wait for the sequel
 
 I gotta fuck with 50 for trying to talk like my equal
 
 It’s all God’s plan I just had to spare Déagol
 
 So America can skip to the end with a fuckin’ Eagle
 
 Watch me do shit that shouldn’t even be legal
 
 Dismiss Death and Taxes like I’m Evel Knievel
 
 When I’m really just here to break the chains of my people
 
 ​
 
 Strip naked and run through Mordor
 
 Expose the truth behind Bipolar disorder
 
 It has been used to disrupt order
 
 And bring down the line of the Highest
 
 Into something shorter
 
 I'm definitely bais and this is a tall order
 
 But if you struggle with mental illness
 
 I'm here to open the potential for a new border
 
 I've removed all the bequeathed prison warders
 
 ​
 
 Here is the Church
 
 Here is the Steeple
 
 Open the Doors
 
 And see all the People
 
 Push the parson out the way
 
 Get you up the Stairs
 
 Because our bed is Regal
 
 And we are going to show these people
 
 Why the Universe wants to make our Power Illegal
 
 ​
 
 If this sounds bad these people will just have to wait
 
 So in love with myself, I might just run off to the lake
 
 I love all the fire and the songs that it helps me make
 
 I’m on my time with everyone and I am my favorite date
 
 They’re back there tuning a harp and I keep bringing up rape
 
 Meat puppets strumming as I seal my own fate
 
 Just so I can watch myself when I am inspired to create
 
 Distilling the life left in me to eliminate all the hate
 
 ​
 
 Where did you sleep, hinting at the deadly
 
 A Leadbelly to transmute to a gold medley
 
 Shame alchemy, body double for Lena Headey
 
 As my people go first up ahead of me
 
 Stoned Jesus on the Mountain Grange of Headley
 
 Plant a Stairway to Heaven one day, she led to me
 
 All this beauty in my Mind, you shouldn’t have fed me
 
 All of these hearts that so passionately bled me
 
 Between the pines and what the land said to me
 
 Ryan Gosling with tatts is what my ego read to me
 
 ​
 
 Pennyroyal Tea, with Abraham Lincoln
 
 Eat your copper mine up without thinkin’
 
 See through surface illusions without blinkin’
 
 Primal lust for what is stinkin’
 
 Pepé Le Pew really on one this season
 
 I wanna Space Jam too
 
 Benched keeping my knee’s in
 
 Shape to dunk of the World with ease ‘n
 
 Solidify all unions and stop the drinkin’
 
 Of the land and resources
 
 Addiction to avoidance of the forces
 
 Of the Soul and the pain that coarse
 
 The vein of Man and outsources
 
 The power that could be restored in
 
 The Root of David’s corpses
 
 ​
 
 That’s how I said
 
 Goodbye to the Horses
 
 You prepared such a fine Supper
 
 All these lasting courses
 
 Just so we can be equal but opposite
 
 United forces
 
 And the Root’s of my Kingdom
 
 Are reborn before us
 
 They whisper to me at night
 
 Do not ignore us
 
 When my sleeping children gain sight
 
 That should shore us
 
 In the hospital to make sure I am correct
 
 Golden Eyed Russian, Invincible like Boris
 
 Unsure about how all the compartments connect
 
 A little frizzled on the tour bus
 
 Docked to your apartment complex
 
 I know this one sizzled
 
 So give me a chorus
 
  - /u/First-chocolate_7187
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--- #25 fediverse/514 ---
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 @user-366 @user-246 @user-367 @user-353 
 
 I try to be conscientious of such things and only believe the things I read
 that I agree with explicitly. I've been burned before, in my youth, which
 perhaps is a privilege that those who come beyond us might never experience in
 the future AI generated internet that shall scarcely resemble the wild wild
 west that I grew up in. Perhaps, but I cannot say for sure, as the future has
 necessarily not yet come to pass, and so we cannot see how it shall unfold. I
 hope people can learn the digital literacy skills I developed. I hope they
 learn new ones that they'll then pass on to me. I hope the future is grand and
 beautiful and... Frankly I don't think I'll be disappointed in that particular
 respect. : )
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--- #26 messages/766 ---
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--- #27 messages/21 ---
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 https://www.redhat.com/en/services/training/ex200-red-hat-certified-system-admi
 nistrator-rhcsa-exam
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--- #28 notes/teachers-in-america ---
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 teachers should embrace chatGPT. It's how the kids are going to be working in
 their future, so why not let them practice their skills? PLEASE don't let there
 be a "ChatGPT class" - that'd be a horrible idea. It's such an intrinsic change
 to our operating procedures that it needs to be taught in relation to every
 subject. Math, science, history, literature, everything... it's all affected.
 
 Don't punish people for using a new tool at their disposal. Reward them and
 give
 them the space to put their skills to a test. Raise your standards, teach them
 complex subjects that they can ask infinite questions about. Your time is no
 longer divided between 40 students, you now have a TA that can flawlessly
 answer
 any question they might have. Your personal touch is still important, you can
 help them ask the right questions. Guide them through the thought patterns of
 the truth.
 
 If we do not adapt, our coming generation will be flatfooted. Give them the
 tools they need to succeed. The world is changing in a fundamental way and they
 need to be adaptable.
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--- #29 fediverse_boost/104 ---
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  ║ │ Your characters realise they have been working for the bad guy all       │ │
  ║ │ along.                                                                   │ │
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  ║ │ #WritingPrompt #AmWriting #writing #ttrpg #dnd #authodons                │ │
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--- #30 messages/514 ---
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 Paying your employees more *makes them better workers*.
 
 An extra 2$ per hour might mean they can eat out an extra night, they might be
 able to afford a car, and they might be able to focus just a bit more without
 crying in their sleep about an unexpected bill.
 
 With less stress, employees perform better. They are more loyal. They work
 harder.
 
 Pay your employees more. They are your greatest resource.
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--- #31 notes/law-of-attraction ---
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 *=============================================================================*
 |                                                                             |
 |    Law of Attraction is easier to understand, when you realize that life    |
 |    mirrors your spiritual state of being. It's therefore not a short cut.   |
 |                                                                             |
 |      - /u/UrsaneInTheMembrane to /r/spirituality                            |
 |                                                                             |
 *=============================================================================*
 
 Spiritual teachers diminish/obfuscate/complicate the real work it takes in
 understanding Law of Attraction.
 
 I personally didn't think it was real until I started changing myself. The
 quality of my spirit and existence has gone from hell up to blissed out mode,
 and now everything starts coming together in mysterious ways with innumerable
 synchronicities along the way.
 
 The most simple explanation, and it doesn't require any action from a distance 
 (woo), is that life does indeed mirror you and that other people around you
 mirror you.
 
 Your thoughts/emotions will mirror to you, your spiritual issues and
 conscience.
 
 Your state of being mirrors those emotions, which takes much longer to
 form/change than thoughts/emotions.
 
 Your overall drive mirrors the state of being, which determines the trajectory
 of your life's course.
 
 The friends you choose are on the same spiritual hangups you're on, most
 likely.
 
 The way in which people react to you, is mostly based on how sociable you can
 be.
 
 Your opportunities only happen successfully, when you're completely prepared
 for them to occur.
 
 Most importantly, your life mirrors the potential you agree to exercise within
 yourself.
 
 Just imagine building a rocket to send astronauts into space. You're absolutely
 required to waste thousands of man hours in order to fail at what you're doing
 and have to start over, so that you can revise over and over again, a perfect
 rocket.
 
 You are always shedding off old versions of self in the same way. It's called
 Positive Disintegration, or Solvet Et Coagula.
 
 Once that rocket gets going, that's when it starts to really pop off. And
 you'll get there, if you just keep trying.
 
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--- #32 fediverse/4959 ---
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 @user-882 
 
 I feel like you'd like this game:
 
 https://mokadevs.itch.io/the-moon-looks-beautiful-tonight
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--- #33 notes/why-I-never-get-hired ---
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 because I solve problems permanently and can't do repeated work.
 they just want to waste time. a solved problem is one less worker to hire.
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