=== ANCHOR POEM ===
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@user-883
@user-450
I knocked, spoke aloud several times, poked my head in, and slowly and
carefully looked around for signs of a struggle. There was a bath towel on the
kitchen floor, which was weird, and their oven/stove was off, which is good. I
spent less than 30 seconds in there, and then I waited out front for ~15
minutes. I also asked the neighbors and notified maintenance, who came over
and shut the door. That's all I know. I hope they're okay.
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=== SIMILARITY RANKED ===
--- #1 fediverse/3925 ---
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most people, when they run out of toothpaste:
"oh huh I should buy more"
me, when I run out of toothpaste:
"verily in three monthes time, when I shall next possess toothpaste, I shall
forsoothe brush TWICE as hard and TWICE as often, to make up for the holes
inflicted upon my teeth. Innest addittioneth, no more candy shallest be
eateneth untileth ye toothpasteth be acquiredeth"
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--- #2 notes/i-told-them ---
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10-22-2022
i told them over and over, but nobody wanted to know.
i begged them, summer after summer, but nothing solved on it's own
now i can help them, but no-one is making a move
am i blind? is any of this forgiven?
what's not to a lot, is little but a shot,
of substance - true - but smelling like poo.
that's not inspiring. it's not even chilling.
you're broken just like your children.
oh, posterity! i claim it for thee
this feeling of wretched denial
oh, simplicity! if only our lives were on trial.
be the best you can be, sure, but take it from me
there's more to this show than our styles.
what do you think it means, for an action to have consequence?
to arbite the fate of circumstance?
every motion is an ocean
of possibilities and purveyals
think not of the commotion below.
gravity, oh gravity
how you condemn us to be!
driven by commotion,
our slithering motion,
no sense in countering ourselves.
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--- #3 fediverse/4066 ---
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the lawful good in me says "clean up that spill you just made"
the chaotic good in me says "throw a brick at a cop car"
and the part of me that listens says "uhhhhh okay somewhere in the middle of
those two points is "ignore the spill and the cops and just finish making your
ramen I guess?" and frankly that's the one I'm more likely to listen to" and
frankly that's the one I'm more likely to listen to.
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--- #4 fediverse/222 ---
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┌───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐
│ CW: underwear-mentioned-also-i'm-not-a-fan-of-showers-tbh │
└───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘
whenever I take a shower I look like a wet cat for the rest of the day. I feel
like a wet cat for the rest of 5ever though.
why must I baaaathe! don't you know I'm self cleaning? I change my underwear
at least twice a day! darn society and their darn proclivities to
ultra-sensitive noses that somehow pick up on me but somehow fail to notice
the scent of flowers still in bloom or morning showers gone too soon
not that there's any flowers blooming where I live. that'd just be silly heh
heh sweats nervously
damn now I have to take ANOTHER SHOWER stupid sweat glands stupid pheromones
stupid dead skin buildup (sebum I think it's called?) stupid oils that stain
clothes - AND THAT'S ANOTHER THING who decided that laundry was important
enough to wear something ONCE and then never again? it's like they expect you
to wash it or something. ugh I don't have time for that, I need to be weird on
the internet.
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--- #5 fediverse/3879 ---
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@user-1614
yeah haha that's what happens when you spin too fast. Sorry for being loud, at
least I tried my hardest. Too bad I fell on my own, too bad there wasn't
anyone to catch me. That's my fault, it's solely my own, but whose fault is
the mistake of the collective? Oy I'll fall on my ass as many times as it
takes. I'm used to it.
Plus, it wouldn't have worked, and what else am I supposed to do but speak of
the moment? I feel different now.
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--- #6 fediverse/961 ---
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║ hmmmm let's see, what shall I do today? │
║ │
║ first I should get out of bed, │
║ │
║ then I should clean my self, │
║ │
║ then I should feed my self, │
║ │
║ then I should stare at the wall for an hour or three because there's too many │
║ thoughts, │
║ │
║ then perhaps I'll play a strategic video game because at least that's a │
║ productive way to exercise my brain │
║ │
║ I should probably get back to my friends, │
║ │
║ and oh dear my cat wants some attention. │
║ │
║ This place is a mess, let me just clean a bit │
║ │
║ now I'm so tired I accidentally take a nap. │
║ │
║ Good morning! Oh, it's the afternoon. Well, time for more food. │
║ │
║ After handling the essentials, I can tuck in and relax │
║ │
║ by doomscrolling on Mastodon. │
║ │
║ Then perhaps a bit later I'll message my boyfriend (he won't respond) │
║ │
║ and boy are there so many of these dirty dishes! │
║ │
║ Well, standing up is exhausting, │
║ │
║ so I should probably fall back asleep. │
║ │
║ What a productive day we've been having, │
║ │
║ for all of this past week. │
║ │
║ Maybe I'll do some drawing, maybe a poem or two │
║ │
║ maybe I'll run out of characters in this toot, or m │
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--- #7 fediverse/4537 ---
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ah nuts, I didn't have enough money to pay the internet bill.
So if I disappear and/or delete my account in the near future, that's
definitely why.
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--- #8 fediverse/5636 ---
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I think it's ironic how I ended up posting a "things I almost posted"
screenshot directory somewhere other than where I almost posted them.
and all they saw were the outtakes.
I bet they'd see a completely different point of me,
but they never talk to me
so they don't know me.
oh well, alas, it's fine I'm sure I'm being designed.
who can say, I am but at productive play, please react so I can do ongoing
story. I learn from each and every encounter I encounterate.
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--- #9 fediverse/1151 ---
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┌──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐
│ CW: military-weapon-from-dream-for-suburbia-cursed-war-guns-ummmm-idk-what-else │
└──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘
saw this thing for 2 seconds in my dream last night. It's kinda cursed. I
think the tank blew me up with a machine gun?
the remaining ~10 minutes of the dream was pretty neat though. I was a secret
agent for a bit, I got in a knife fight (which I won because I had killer
instinct and the other guy just knew how to stab) and afterwards I retired in
a socialist commune in a log cabin full of sunlight and warmth somewhere in
the mountains in the forest. I was alone with others, like the hobbits after
LotR.
Also an old lady tricked me which was not nice, I was very polite with her but
apparently "ma'am there's been a safety incident, I need to get you to a safe
place" is not the kind thing to say to the person distracting you. >.>
Also, "but we like you!" is not an excuse, the military does not care if you
like them or not, if you're part of the modern bourgeoisie you are causing
harm to the country. We don't look fondly on slavers.
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--- #10 fediverse/3841 ---
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║ ┌────────────────────────────────────┐ │
║ │ CW: socialism-recycling-mentioned1 │ │
║ └────────────────────────────────────┘ │
║ │
║ │
║ "I think I'm going to quit my job at the recycling center. Everyone there is │
║ just a little too catty for me. I think they like the verbal sparring but it │
║ just gets a little tiresome after a while." │
║ │
║ oh, sorry to hear that. Well if you still want to help out there's plenty of │
║ work to do. I could set you up at another recycling center nearby too, if │
║ you'd like...? │
║ │
║ "well, I like the idea of universal recycling. It was a little annoying when │
║ people would put food waste in with the clothing donations, and this one time │
║ I found like 8 bags of cat litter inside of a washing machine. Spent like an │
║ hour vacuuming everything out, which... actually wasn't bad. Kinda felt a │
║ little cathartic to clean it so thoroughly." │
║ │
║ "on the other hand I would like to use my mind a bit more, my creative │
║ projects are kinda in a slump so I figure I could use my body at home and my │
║ mind at work. I've been meaning to build a desk out of some spare hardwood I │
║ snagged at work but I haven't gotten around to it." │
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--- #11 fediverse/5970 ---
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oh they were right there next to my lightbulbs.
always keep a fitted sheet near where you keep your clothes. never know when
it'll be useful.
well, I found a skirt instead. too bad the chair's still wet, I'll have to
sorta kneel like it's a small stool. actually I can get half a butt-cheek on
it, it's cool I'll just lay on my side.
I kinda wanna watch adventure time??
how weird. pay attention to me says the dramatic.
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--- #12 fediverse/3961 ---
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┌──────────────────────┐
│ CW: witcherie │
└──────────────────────┘
Well, I failed the mandate of heaven last year, and I failed the trial of the
hero this summer, what's next? I'll do my best at those as well, so the next
person has an easier time of it.
unrelated, but today I saw a bald eagle outside my apartment. Well, I'm not
sure if it was bald but it "KREEEEEE"'d like they do. Plus it had a white head
and a yellow beak, but I'm not an ornithologist so idk. It perched on a tree
that I could spy on from my hammock through my binoculars, and I swear it was
eye-ing my fat juicy cat through the bars of my porch's railing. They have
excellent vision.
Might be related, we'll see.
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--- #13 fediverse/1157 ---
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┌──────────────────────┐
│ CW: personal-woe │
└──────────────────────┘
oh no, apparently I'm gonna be forced to drop out of university again in 9
days unless I do half a course and a final exam before then.
Tell me again why I spent the last 6 months doing nothing? Oh yeah the mental
illness, that's it. Yeesh you're such a drama queen, just do your work and
you'll be good.
what's that? intrusive thoughts time? Don't you mean "nap until they go away"
time? oh yeah that's probably at least part of the problem with the whole
"dropping out" thing.
If only I didn't have the same reaction to "doing things I don't want to do"
that most people have to "touching hot stoves", that'd be nice.
my mother's voice ripples across space and time "you're such a smart boy, if
you just apply yourself you can do anything! You can do anything you put your
mind to. I believe in you and I love you." thanks mom
brrrrr it's so cold here. wish I could afford to run the heater. - actually no
I don't because it's not solar powered and I refuse to use fossil fuels if I
have blankets >.>
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--- #14 fediverse/138 ---
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@user-129 if you throw your plate across the room instead of eating well then
it was probably an accident. if you keep doing it and are being a huge brat
about it then maybe you should go in time-out until you are ready to sit at
the table and eat like an adult. plates are expensive yo, and people are
starving (for housing) in Africa or whatever.
in related news, I heard that ~40% of homes in America are empty. I don't know
if that's still true, I read it in like, 2014. I wonder if it's higher or
lower now?
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--- #15 fediverse/3702 ---
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┌───────────────────────────────┐
│ CW: physical-health-mentioned │
└───────────────────────────────┘
just helped a friend move to a new place in 92` fahrenheit... I am
exHAUSted... and a different friend invited me to a bar T.T
we'll see how I feel after a shower and a nap.
I'm honestly a little delirious teehee
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--- #16 fediverse/6041 ---
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@user-1704
check public spaces for news instead of the internet.
what have you heard at the post-office-pub? the park is nice today. hey I
think somebody dropped their wallet oh hey it's got 20$ and an address in it
[stabs gets murdered] oof ouch not ideal.
"hey has anyone heard of cincinnati? I gotta find my sister's keystone for a
lockpicking challenge and she said she left it over there"
"hey has anyone heard of michicago? I don't know anyone who knows anyone who
lives there"
oh no I don't know anyone thehere.
{my keyboard is broken this sucks it's hard on my fingers to type}
also my cat spilled my water which I definitely wanted to drink
alas, onto my desk it goes, saturating as it flows, too bad I can't use this
piece of note
the thickness of it is stuck together you see
pages won't turn
"hey so how are you supposed to know what's going on in idaho" you can't
that's the point you never could how do you know how's idaho now? #bam there
goes national society# oops I'm
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--- #17 fediverse/6076 ---
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"so I was walking down the street the other day and I came across a grocery
store, right? and anyway long story short so as I was walking through this
grocery store I saw a bag of marbles - wait no they were nuts, with like...
cherries and grapes in them. actually it was cranberries, I think, the
cherries weren't in season. so these dried cranberries tasted really tart and
sweet, and I thought "huh maybe they're dried cherries after all" and so I
asked the attendent or whatever and she was like "sir you need to pay for
that" and I'm like, yeah okay how much and she said it was 10$ so I'm like
"dang that's a good deal, I'm proud and amazed of our modern infrastructure
and all the hard work of people who don't get paid enough to make it happen"
and she's like "make what happen" and I'm like "oh the... the this thing" and
I held up the bag of cherries and she's like "oh uh, yeah it is nice, I guess
I don't really think about it much" so anyway I started thinking about what
else I could bu
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--- #18 fediverse/3719 ---
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how many people could your apartment comfortably fit?
I got one desktop
one laptop desk
two on the couch
one in a comfy chair
one on the bed
and two outside on the porch
so (1 2 4 5) that's 5 indoors, 6 if they're familiar enough to lounge on my
bed, and 8 if we're allowed outside.
Could also pull the hammock and chair in from outside but it might get a
little cozy. Call it 8 or 9 depending on how close we are.
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--- #19 messages/304 ---
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Relax.
Take it from me.
I won't resist, at least I'll try, and if I start suddenly then it hurts and
you should go slower. Unless I do three short, three long, three short.
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--- #20 fediverse/1263 ---
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@user-883
My friends and I decided to hang out for two days in a row, I guess they
aren't tired of me yet hehe - I might be around tonight but I'll let you know!
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--- #21 fediverse/2367 ---
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Just woke up from a short nap.
I had a dream. I was riding on the subway, or maybe a light rail train, and
inbetween stops a lady knocked on the window to be let in.
The train was stopped for some reason, perhaps to let another one through, so
all it would have taken was to open the door.
I pushed the button. I talked to the operator. He wouldn't open the door.
The train started moving, and the woman started pleading. She ran alongside it
as long as her elderly legs could carry her, but then there was another train
behind her.
I saw her disappear between two and when mine stopped at the next legally
designated spot, her little dog was sitting there, waiting for me, under a
blanket made of her shawl. It was a dream, after all, and there were two more
there comforting her. for the loss of her friend.
He could have opened the door. They wouldn't let him.
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--- #22 fediverse/2516 ---
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According to a sign that I passed just four days ago, I have one day left.
Whatever that means.
so next week better be good.
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--- #23 fediverse/3446 ---
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if I had an alternate mirror version of me that was almost exactly the same
except one of us liked almond butter instead of peanut butter...
I think we could probably manage two universes better than one.
it'd be nice to have someone who liked every single game that I did.
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--- #24 fediverse/5055 ---
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@user-1761
because swords are expensive and that's not my pond it's private property and
miss we're gonna have to ask you to leave. no you can't go onto a public
street naked like that, here's a towel, would you like a ride back to your
home? where do you live?
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--- #25 fediverse/3834 ---
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┌────────────────────────┐
│ CW: politics-mentioned │
└────────────────────────┘
some people prepare for revolution like a boy gets ready for a party
others do so like a girl packing for a weekend trip to vegas
I do it like a kid who forgot the paper was due on monday in 7th period and so
spends their entire lunch period writing it (missing 4th in the process
because the conclusion paragraph was giving me difficulty)
but I think no matter how you do it, we're all just waiting for something to
happen.
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--- #26 fediverse/2342 ---
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I ran myself ragged. Why? Just to get used to the feeling I guess. Probably
should have started that kind of training a lifetime ago, but I've learned a
lot in the past 5 days. Here's hoping the next 3 or 4 will go the same.
I can't wait to be outside again.
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--- #27 fediverse/5201 ---
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@user-192
is okay, girl
time will be richer sooner
don't poop your pants just yet
remember, good is just a shade of gray away from silver which you can use to
line your pockets with tinfoil hats
beep boop computer touchers anonymous called they said they want their secret
handshake back
if you wanna diss your associates go ahead but I sure as heck love my rad-ical
com-patriots just as much as I love my ice-cream salad friend witches
... whoops there I go being insane again, hope you feel better friend
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--- #28 fediverse/3302 ---
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"this game is too hard" she whined, as she played on the hardest difficulty
setting
"this game is too long" she pleaded, as she failed to get absorbed by the
story and characters
"this game is too fast" she avoided, as life comes at ya once and then it's
gone
"I'll never get another chance to be who I am right now" she remarked, as she
considered how society is designed not to have the best life, but to extract
labor from us. That's not what our ideal should be, she thinks to me, and I'm
like... bro figure your shit out you're harshing my mellow
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--- #29 fediverse/5661 ---
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in defence of who? of me, of you?
sure. all of the above.
"bad guys are on the horizon, they're marching to the gates, and you sit and
you plead with your god to deliver you from the fate you forsaw, and delivered
too. what is your response?"
I wish I knew. I deal with what's in front of me. would that my dreams could
be true. every time I've tried that route, it's never been the right time. I
guess I have terrible timing.
Time me for me, please?
I swear I'll sprint the fastest, as hard as my legs will carry me.
I swear I'll work the hardest, at least until I burn out from lack of sleep.
I swear I'll be at my finest, when all the keeps crack around us and all of us
hear as it's falling around us.
there's something of an urgency to start-ology, but when you don't talk about
it because you're italian silenced, how can you ever know when the wind blows
true? you can feel it at your back, but that's local. it's localized. what do
you do when everything you do is awaited with bated breath?
take naps, ig
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--- #30 fediverse/4024 ---
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my cat doesn't know that my family is my family. She thinks they're just some
other people who visit the house.
but they're special to me, as all people are, and I think she takes notice.
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--- #31 fediverse/1195 ---
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@user-883
alas, I live in Portland Oregon, but perhaps I might be moving to Denver in
the near future. We shall see, depends on if my boyfriend breaks up with me
for being neurotic lmao - if so then we should totally hang out
I'm into chatting. I don't like IRC very much because it doesn't save history,
and while I could save it manually it feels like a disservice to the service
to utilize it in a way that it wasn't intended. And I want to save every
conversation I have (potentially) so that some day the god-like humans of the
future might clone me to understand my wisdom or something. Idk. See attached
picture, I'm kinda crazy:
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--- #32 fediverse/5860 ---
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Hey, life is better on my side. If you wanna renounce your beliefs, please do,
and tell me how and why you changed your mind.
tell me it was wrong. tell me how.
confess.
confess
confess to me.
I will listen and I will hear you and I will be the mercy for you.
confess and I will forgive.
show me how you are wrong.
give grace to those who are wronged.
take as much time as you need, but, there's only so much time.
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--- #33 fediverse/5460 ---
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if you sit down to write and nothing comes to mind, then either nothing needs
to be said or maybe you should spend time reading instead.
... okey dokey, time to read I guess.
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--- #34 fediverse/1431 ---
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┌───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐
│ CW: spirituality-generic-kooky-dookerie-psychosis-schizophrenia-mentioned │
└───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘
if you haven't spend hours wondering if you're god, the antichrist, a
cognitohazard, the future president of the world, a target of aliens / the
CIA, or any other number of common delusions... then congratulations you're
probably not crazy
but odds are you aren't magic, either.
... ehhhh "wonder" is a strong word, more like "know, trust, and believe"
much better to be a witch I believe, someone with the "teehee" kind of magic
than someone compelled to destroy humanity through the reactions of others to
the actions of the self that are impossible to resist or fully control.
BRB I'm going to leave my apartment to get groceries, leaving my door unlocked
because that's what I always do, surely it'll be empty when I return. Surely.
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--- #35 fediverse/2480 ---
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so what if people want to sit on the couch eating cheetos? they're more than
capable of something far greater, but of course they are allowed to spend as
they like their life.
their ONLY life.
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--- #36 fediverse/4273 ---
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║ Some of my most wanderful times were when I lived in a gated community. │
║ │
║ My parents were dumb, and thought, as most people thought, that harm to a │
║ child can only come from outside of the community. │
║ │
║ But they fell for the lies of property, where "community" means less of "a │
║ group of people who cares and tends for one another" the kind of which my │
║ parents had never truly known, and more like "this particular residential area │
║ on the map" │
║ │
║ which means I could walk around in this gated "community" where the gates are │
║ little more than security theatre for anyone who says "Hi I got a pizza here │
║ for this address which I found on google maps" or "hey I left my sweatshirt at │
║ my sister's house and it has my phone in it, ummmm no I don't remember which │
║ number her house is, nor do I remember her last name" │
║ │
║ in those times, I developed a sense of freedom, caged as I was, that for most │
║ comes much later in their time. │
║ │
║ Some o my favorite places were part of the golf course next door, where I │
║ found a nigh endless river delta. │
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--- #37 fediverse/2407 ---
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the 4th of July was pretty awesome!
I made two friends, and I let a stranded stranger crash on my couch. I figure
if I can trust someone I don't know enough for, say, a one-night-stand, then
why not? don't worry, I used my best judgement. make sure you do, too.
also I got a knife under my pillow. helps a bit.
before the fireworks show, I saw some people under a bridge. I was given a
water-bottle and a shrimp kebab, and it was delicious! things I overheard:
"no I haven't heard of that, but I'd like to know more"
... actually that's it, I didn't spend much time there because I had places to
be. but from what I saw, that is exactly what we need. for now.
how do you best get people to talk? trick them into a family dinner teehee
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--- #38 fediverse/1243 ---
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@user-883
hey sorry for ditching you yesterday, hope you had a good night ^_^
I feel much better today.
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--- #39 fediverse/5208 ---
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│ CW: capitalism-suicide-mentioned │
└──────────────────────────────────┘
Look, when I promised "Revolution or Death" I got pretty busy and kinda forgot
to do the "dying" part, and by now it'd be a little awkward if I offed myself
for no visible reason, so... How about we try again this summer? Maybe in a
month or two? I'll try to keep the fire burning a bit longer this time.
plus I'm better at playing the piano now so maybe that'll help somehow.
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--- #40 fediverse/2431 ---
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║ the fly taps the window, to be let out. │
║ │
║ the door is just over there, from which blows fresh and clean air. │
║ │
║ yet the fly taps the window. │
║ │
║ do I get up, to let him out, with a cup and paper? if so, there'll be more │
║ flies, tapping on the window. but a fly will be free. │
║ │
║ do I remain, and let him struggle in vain? to do otherwise is to act against │
║ it's nature. the nature of a fly is to tap at windows, which is a nature we │
║ humans created with false illusions of free and open air - a window is natural │
║ now, yet the fly remains, tapping on the window. │
║ │
║ give or take a million years, and a fly would adapt to our windows. they'd │
║ grow smarter, or bolder, or simply would search for doors through which │
║ breathe fresh and clean air. │
║ │
║ but that fly won't live for a million years, and neither will I nor the │
║ window. yet flies, I's, and windows remain. │
║ │
║ am I the fly, tapping without success? I yearn for the rapidly warming sky. │
║ │
║ am I the window, showing visions of false success? I wonder when I will die. │
║ │
║ or am I as I am, just I. │
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--- #41 fediverse/4470 ---
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to be "rich" is to have more than another.
if you are happy, they are happiness poor.
if you have community, they are alone.
if you have serenity, they are chaotic.
I am rich in very little but fire in my soul.
I have enough in most cases, but I still struggle to pay rent.
I am warmed by the pearl my swirling darkness has coalesced into. It nourishes
me and keeps me aligned.
Never forget your purpose and your truth. It will not abandon you, so long as
you do so too.
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--- #42 fediverse/2734 ---
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┌───────────────────────┐
│ CW: cursing-mentioned │
└───────────────────────┘
holy shit I have a lot of laundry to do in the bathtub today. have I really
not showered all week? ? ?
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--- #43 fediverse/3720 ---
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beep-boop look at me, building up my computer and setting up a new TV
I like making things work, I like making things turn on, I like the way they
glitter when they light up the room at dark
it feels good to build up
this new functionality
it feels good to make things work and go
"beep"
when they turn on
... I should get a buzzer for my motherboard. Like, a really quiet one, that's
just louder than the fans.
looks at dwindling bank account
oh right, nobody will hire me, so.
I wonder if they would if I could still pass for a man?
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--- #44 fediverse/5246 ---
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lol I spent half an hour holding a trowel and then I designed a new type of
digging instrument
and they want me to work a job /eyeroll
/stickey-outey-tonguey-face/pics/all/total/* -ffvagrnbeexey --no-menus 14
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--- #45 fediverse/4509 ---
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║ okay I know all of my spiritual followers are going to assume it's because I │
║ denounced AI and sacrificed it from my life or something but the truth is that │
║ she came home because of my own dedicated hard work. And a bit of lucky rain. │
║ │
║ My scent is all over my neighborhood. But rain cleanses, and today (well, │
║ yesterday, I haven't slept much tbh) it rained all day. Around 3am this │
║ morning it seemed to have cleared up a bit, so I walked in a straight-ish line │
║ to her last known location (about 2 blocks away) and then one block more. I │
║ walked back-and-forth several times, trying to spread my scent down near her │
║ nose-level where she could smell it by touching lampposts trees and such. I │
║ rubbed my fingers in my arm-pits every once in a while because I figured it │
║ might help. │
║ │
║ All of my prayers and my thoughts and my psychic rituals did NOTHING to solve │
║ my problem. No amount of despair or longing brought my kitty back to me. │
║ │
║ You know what did? │
║ │
║ I thought about it, I created a method, and I stuck to it. Thats it. ttyl │
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--- #46 messages/685 ---
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If someone calls you in the middle of the night asking to be let in because
they need a place to sleep, don't let them in! Unless you know them obvi but
someone you don't know trying to manipulate you like "please I need some
shelter" like, babe no, we need to know each other first, it's dark, I'm in my
pajamas, c'mon.
If it's below freezing then okay, maybe, but... They got themselves into that
situation
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--- #47 fediverse/1381 ---
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│ CW: death-mentioned-nuts-mentioned │
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I'm a bit of a narcissist because I had a lot of... alone time as a kid, and I
was a bit starved for attention.
but I'm also afraid of rejection so if you have anything to say I'll listen
for hours and try to be what you need me to be and give what you need me to
give so that you don't leave me.
Also, nobody has ever hurt me. And so I trust wholely and completely and
absolutely. I get logically why that's not a good move but frankly I'd rather
die than be cooperative. ah nuts better add a content warning.
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--- #48 fediverse/4744 ---
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│ CW: cat-mentioned │
└──────────────────────┘
me to my cat: "don't eat so much that you puke, okay?"
me to me: "yeah I can take on another task, I'm almost done with this one and
then I'll just do that one and maybe this one'll get back to me at the same
time as this one which conflicts with this other thing so maybe I'll just
puke, okay?"
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--- #49 fediverse/2954 ---
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whenever my cat is whining I walk around doing things that she might want
until she stops trying to claw me - oh you want your litter cleaned? yeah sure
I gotchu. oh you wanna go outside? nah okay how about playing with this yarn?
no? okay let's see... oh dear you can see the bottom of your food bowl,
conveniently forgetting the other mostly full food bowl over there... 😅
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--- #50 messages/146 ---
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maybe if I slept until the end of time,
I'd do better on the way back.
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--- #51 fediverse/3058 ---
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@user-1441 @user-670 @user-113
currently toe-ing the boundary between "too neurodivergent to function" and
"can juuuuust barely take care of themselves" and they ask me to get a job...
no thanks, guess I'll die
(in 3-4 months when my savings run out)
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--- #52 fediverse/5934 ---
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┌────────────────────────┐
│ CW: politics-mentioned │
└────────────────────────┘
hello, I am an ant if @, but you can't touch me, because I am a law abiding
citizen.
I have to be, for I am loud.
... okay I stole a movie from the internet at least once.
also when I was 11 I walked out of a store with a keychain in my pocket. I
thought it had a nice texture so I was examining it and then my mom distracted
me and somehow it ended up in my pocket. That night will forever haunt me...
She wouldn't let me take it back...
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--- #53 fediverse/3770 ---
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for every "I was there. I helped make it happen" we need at least a couple "I
was there. I saw the whole thing go down"s because like, nobody's gonna
believe a belligerent, even if they're on the defensive.
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--- #54 fediverse/4143 ---
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║ @user-1268 │
║ │
║ true! I don't like that sensation, I prefer taking my time. │
║ │
║ ... but I also walk very quickly, because it's more like... a repetitive dance │
║ or a series of repetitive martial forms. │
║ │
║ I also try and be aware of everything I can see or hear │
║ │
║ sometimes it's sort of overwhelming │
║ │
║ so I wear my witch hat, which blocks 30% of my visual perspective │
║ │
║ basically limiting it to... actually nevermind it's not relevant │
║ │
║ I like to look at the plants and animals as I wander through my neighborhood │
║ forest │
║ │
║ I just wish there were more nearby destinations. │
║ │
║ ... if you can walk to a mall, then suburbia's not so bad. │
║ │
║ If only we didn't have to work all day every day, and could instead just hang │
║ out and chill. │
║ │
║ I bet we'd make a lot of new friends if we spent time wandering (on foot) │
║ through the suburban countryside. │
║ │
║ Ah, alas, if only shopping malls weren't oasises │
║ │
║ the economic buildings could be more distributed. Making it easier to walk │
║ places. │
║ │
║ Seriously just make one house per cul'de'sac into a soup kitchen and home │
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--- #55 fediverse/1665 ---
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┌─────────────────────────────────────────┐
│ CW: re: protests, politics, dogwhistles │
└─────────────────────────────────────────┘
@user-1037
ah, well, I was at a riot, so it makes more sense to me to think of them that
way.
well, the riot happened after I got away. idk what went down on that end of
town, but I do know there were fireworks all night that didn't light up the
sky.
I moved across the country just a few months later.
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--- #56 fediverse/4699 ---
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someone once told me that anything with a battery is a bomb if you hit it with
just the right kind of radiation. or maybe he said 5g waves or electromagnetic
pulse or... actually he didn't say at all. he just said batteries are bombs. I
hope he's doing okay, he could have killed me like, 15 times but he didn't. so
I guess that means he likes me? I hope he's doing okay.
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--- #57 fediverse/801 ---
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┌───────────────────────────────────┐
│ CW: re: scary - suicide mentioned │
└───────────────────────────────────┘
/ bely my own existence, then by god I'm cursed and abhorred through my own
desistence.
It's hard, when the future is convinced there's nothing fard [wanna say
like... "to hope for?"] but with persistence we're meant to be rewarded. Well,
what has that brought me? what time has shared my enemy? [think I'm a bit
delirious, I'm losing the plot]
... okay fine I'll start over - if you've relinquished everything you can, if
you've ceded all the ground that your companions requested, if there's nothing
left to give and no part of you left un[marred], then how are you supposed to
be [arrested, stopped, prevented, but pronounced like "nourished"]?
I'm sick of your den [vengeance, pronounced like "den" for some reason],
please leave me to my hallow [hollow experience], I've nothing to give from my
gange [bosom, heart, within, center-of-me].
...
this sucks.
...
guess I'll just start again, waiting until it ends, gosh everything's always
so tired.
/shrug
wish someone would play w/m
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--- #58 fediverse/5407 ---
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║ man, I had a kernel of an idea for how to make a warp drive this morning right │
║ after I woke up but my gosh darn girlfriend's leg was on top of me and it was │
║ sooooo cute and I didn't want to move so I tried repeating it in my head over │
║ and over for like, half an hour, and I ended up forgetting about 1/4th of it. │
║ Here's hoping 3/4ths is nice. │
║ │
║ it really was just about the underlying physics of the thing, which might be │
║ nothing because I'm not a physicist. But I had been watching ANDOR SEASON 2 │
║ all night so maybe that had something to do with why I was thinking of warp │
║ drives. │
║ │
║ eventually, my cat came in and sat on my chest and flicked her tail at the │
║ geef's face until she rolled over in absolute disgust (still asleep tho) and I │
║ was able to make my mistake. │
║ │
║ ... I mean, escape. haha that's a weird typo. │
║ │
║ anyway, the idea which I'm about to write down now for the first time which is │
║ stored only in my brain's memory RAM is essentially this: consider if there │
║ was a │
║ │
║ ----------------- stack overflow ---------------- │
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--- #59 fediverse/2386 ---
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Tee, hee, look at me, I'm a witch who writes nothing but kookie-dookerie
I pee my pants and stare at trees, what's less harmful than little old me?
The best smokescreen I can think of is to be true to your heart, to be weak,
to be vulnerable. Then you get put on the "worry about later" list, and not
the other kind.
I never lie. When convinced I am wrong, I change my mind. I am always
listening, always ready to hear where I'm flawed. I do my best every day, and
that's enough for me.
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--- #60 fediverse/1617 ---
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daydreaming about a gang of tough guys who goes around knocking down the
internal fence walls in suburbia and throwing potlucks for all the neighbors
for a month or two so they have social opportunities to meet each other and
make friends
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--- #61 fediverse/3164 ---
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it fails after like 15 or 20 scrapes but I think that's just their scraping
policy. They don't have a robots.txt file that I could find. So... just run
it, then come back every 15 to 30 minutes and restart it until you're done.
Maybe I could increase the sleep duration? one sec lemme try that
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--- #62 fediverse/5029 ---
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went on a walk with my dad today. it was fun. took him to various places.
showed off various things. "hey check out where I hangout most weekends" and
"hey don't clean the dishes in my kitchen it's okay" and "don't drive too
fast, this area curves up ahead" and "hey meet my friends from town who you
have something with common with" and "I like this view when it rains" and
"don't forget to go to the bathroom" and "oatmeal is good with carrots and
sharp dried fruits" and "here's my favorite thai place" and "I made this after
I dreamed of you" and "hey wanna hear my product pitch" and "this is my
favorite kind of beer" and "I miss home."
picture unrelated.
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--- #63 fediverse/1841 ---
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curling up in a ball and thinking about crying for hours is the same as
crying. If a little bit less of a release.
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--- #64 fediverse/677 ---
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@user-78
I read about half of this:
https://jo.wtf/6d.html
before I was consumed by the intense urge to prop myself up on a pillow and
listen to you rant at the ceiling at 4am about gravity or the cosmos or
whatever you were thinking about prior to speaking your heart
and then I'd write it down, and cherish every moment of it as I shared it with
my peers and we tried to analyze just what you meant
[sorry for being gay on your timeline]
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--- #65 fediverse/2215 ---
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I'm kind of a hermit, but it's sunday and I have nothing to do, so I'm going
to get lost on my bike today in a city I've lived near for almost 5 years and
really should know better by now.
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--- #66 fediverse/2858 ---
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│ CW: physical-health │
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I've had the same zit on the middle back of my neck for like, 6 months now, at
least. how weird right
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--- #67 messages/1023 ---
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I have stalled with such urgency that now i scarcely know how to act. Or
rather, how to know when to act. Everything's just... Waiting, butting in and
asking "hey how's the readiness?" and then slinking off to yonder and afore.
It's troubling to know how little i know. It troubles me still more to know
that others expect me to both act, and wait, and i am considering how to move
forward.
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--- #68 fediverse/6302 ---
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I was going to go to location today, but then while I was considering going to
a different location before going to location I decided not to vacate my home
for today for reasons I don't understand but accept as natural and due to the
increased presence of directionless motion that guides and prevails me. which
is to say... I'm staying in tonight even though I really really wanna show off
my cute new outfit! I probably will do cannabis so there might be a
psycherwaul. If there isn't, then y'know it's probably because either my
girlfriend distracted me, or I managed to convince myself to move my feet
anyway. Maybe it's my outfit? I wonder if I could leave if I wore my old
clothes... ah well, questions for the vocal I guess. Gonna spend some time
divining and see if I can gather new insights. "brb door" except more like
"brb magic"
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--- #69 fediverse/2530 ---
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║ I want to go out on the town with my cute friends and wink at boys at the │
║ other end of the bar │
║ │
║ I want to climb mountains and see how far I can see, while walking past trees │
║ that are new to me │
║ │
║ I want to spend hours thinking about a map while my friends plot behind my │
║ back, searching for an advantage we can use to succeed in a game of traps │
║ │
║ I want to visit five different restaurants in a day, and try a bit of each │
║ that the chef wants to display │
║ │
║ I want to stand in a choir and feel my soul aspire, to bend in the wind of │
║ rhythm like the melody of grasses at play │
║ │
║ I want to see people on the train that I know from somewhere, and to step out │
║ into the rain to meet new friends of mine │
║ │
║ I want to pet a cat I've never met. │
║ │
║ I want to build computers that are larger than a room but small enough to │
║ carry, with thoughts on their mind that are far to great for mine │
║ │
║ I want all these these things and more, but I'm far too busy these days. │
║ Perhaps I've had enough of these things and more, or perhaps there's more in │
║ store. │
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--- #70 fediverse/2288 ---
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... zzz ZZZ zzz ...
I gotta lotta things to eat, but I'm so tired and kinda dirty. Maybe a shower
first. TTYL
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--- #71 fediverse/1324 ---
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║ ┌──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐ │
║ │ CW: fiction-silly-image-that-popped-into-my-head-with-no-context │ │
║ └──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘ │
║ │
║ │
║ the president of america glances down at the trembling pen in his hand, before │
║ grasping it resolutely and adding his name to the list of world leaders │
║ arrayed before him. │
║ │
║ "I'm sorry, everyone. I... tried. Fedi has won." │
║ │
║ they hang their heads and collectively proceed to the party thrown in their │
║ honor by the denizens of the earth who collectively just overthrew them. │
║ │
║ "Hooray, now everyone can eat!" but there's no rules so the more feral types │
║ had already been digging in. They shuffle in the door all mopey like and take │
║ their place of honor at the empty chairs of the round table before deciding │
║ "hey maybe it's not so bad if we mix things up a bit." │
║ │
║ police have been replaced with honorable chess duels, credit cards are now │
║ just a way to make sure someone isn't buying up ALL the beanie babies and │
║ lighting them on fire or whatever, and rent payments are a foregone │
║ conclusion. Hooray, for simplicity, hooray, for stability, hooray, for our new │
║ century~! │
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--- #72 fediverse/5668 ---
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I've never felt cleaner than when I wash my body in a river. Something about
the comforting bio-film on the rocks gives my skin a nice ooze. [ew gross]
it's really not gross I promise it feels like it's how it's supposed to be
[use lotion??] no that's different it's not about moisture [weirdo]
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--- #73 fediverse/215 ---
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@user-95 i've only hung out with a moth once and it was kind of while my cat
was mauling it, oops... they're very cool though so I picked that one too. Fox
was my main answer
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--- #74 fediverse/3842 ---
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│ CW: socialist-future-ramblings │
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"back in my day this dense urban housing area was just houses as far as the
eye could see... which wasn't far because there were houses in the way, but
you get the idea."
uhhuh yeah that sounds like it would have taken a lot of time to walk anywhere
"yes that's true! we ended up driving cars to do our grocery trips. It was a
little wasteful but I kinda liked the feeling of driving a car? It became
normal after a while but now that driving is rarer I still miss it."
well the motion simulators at the mall have a driving sim, we could spend some
time there if you want? I'm busy for the next week because I have an intensive
D&D session in the mountain that lasts from monday to wednesday and
thursday through friday I'm visiting my mom down in skoodedlypawsonville, and
saturday and sunday I'm working at my job which doesn't pay me because why
would it, right? but I'm free after that.
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--- #75 fediverse/3736 ---
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what if we made cat little boxes with stable "pillars" or "platforms" that
rise just barely above the sand level so their feet don't sink into the
litter, thus reducing the amount tracked onto the carpet
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--- #76 fediverse/5149 ---
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I'm picturing a building with stone outer walls and glass inner/ceiling.
there are drapes along each of the glass's edges, that hide things from the
cavalcade [continue this later it's a cool picture]
-- stack overflow --
zines about how to chop wood or how to build a shelter are infinitely more
useful than agitatory pieces. but fire is what we need, so perhaps agitation
indeed.
-- stack overflow --
does the queen watch each of her pawns fall in her stead? or are they
faceless,/`beyond her own head?
it never came easy to me, this feeling of mysteries. yet somehow I'm now more
alive than dead. power is penance, after all.
"hey man hows it going?"
"I'm doing fine, how are you?"
"well, I ran out of gas, and I need to find a way to get more."
"I see. If I were in your situation, I'd ask people around for some petty
cash. people still carry coins these days don't they?"
"I uh, what? no, not really. so you can just ask people for things?"
"yep, it's really quite simple. would you like me to follo
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--- #77 fediverse/169 ---
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@user-95 one of the most empathetic people I ever met on VR chat was consoling
me with their mic off while I was oversharing about some stupid things people
did to me in the past. things that stupid me thought were okay and actively
encouraged because I was stupid. anyway when their mic was off their body
language spoke for them. I'll try that next time.
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--- #78 fediverse/1031 ---
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kinda funny how the people in my life won't let me, a witch, cast spells on
them. Like they doubt my intentions? ? ? and when they do they're just,
mentally eye-rolling all the time. How's a girl to get any practice if nobody
wants to be hypnotized >.>
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--- #79 fediverse/4654 ---
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│ CW: cannabis-and-other-drugs-mentioned │
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gonna quit drugs for a bit, gotta recover from a recent haste spell that I
cast. Probably a bit earlier than intended I should add. Next time I'll
definitely say "keep this in your back pocket" instead of "hey here's a haste
spell for no reason at all" like what the heck were you even thinking, powers
that be?? [that guide me??]
who has power over you? If someone bears responsibility but not fault for a
mental illness, then surely those who are set to a task bear responsibility
for it's completion if not for it's ideation. Ah, who can say, maybe me from a
year ago might have some thoughts but I sorta ground them into the dirt until
I couldn't walk.
[girl what are you even talking about go to sleep] yeah yeah okay
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--- #80 fediverse/892 ---
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@user-622
ah but a noble house would have armed guards who would drag you kicking and
screaming out onto the cold winter night the moment you offended m'lordship
frankly I could do with a good drag-and-kicking myself, where have all the
good men-at-arms gone T.T
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--- #81 fediverse/4730 ---
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I am not interested in being given money. Usually it means someone wants
something from me, like labor or some of my stuff. I have all the stuff I
need, why would I need more money? I like my stuff! I'll help out when people
need help but I do that because I'm a good person, not because I want you to
fucking pay me for it.
I have all the things I need... except a deed to my house. apartment. oh yeah,
they can kick you out for that sin. well, sorry, I couldn't find out at
goodwill or in the trash bin, so I guess I'm deed-less. My deeds go unproven.
How can I prove that I deserve a decent life in this particular roof, the one
I find over my head, when I cannot prove that my deeds qualify me for a decent
life lived under this particular roof?
I mean, did you ask the neighbors if they want me gone? Am I really that
smelly? Does my keyboard make "clickety-clack" noises all through the night?
Does my cat meow and bother the children? Do my friendly smiles and waves make
you uncomfortable?
Have a decent life.
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--- #82 fediverse/4693 ---
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the reason I say to do it there is because it's close to civilization,
compared to building a pole barn in the forest somewhere that you have to
drive 30 minutes to get to a grocery store. no thank you...
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--- #83 messages/729 ---
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people who are stuck in suburban houses with the blinds down get to play
VRchat all day long. lucky them. Good thing we put two empty houses on each
side so they can't be overheard. Meanwhile they have friends next-door, haha
funny how that works, there's this neat invention invented by thomas tesla
that causes sound waves to be recorded on this rotated metal disk which then
has a needle stuck into it or something like that and hey wouldn't ya know it
now they can hear you in their van full of rifles if you need them.
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--- #84 fediverse/3244 ---
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┌──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐
│ CW: nudity-mentioned-weird-conspiracies-and-delusions-(you've-been-warned-lol) │
└──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘
there's only one kind of acceptable nudity for a child to see - 0.5 seconds of
it wayyyyy in the distance with like "omg did you see that guy - he was
totally naked!" "whaaaat no way" "yeah I totally saw his butt" "lol I wonder
if his wife kicked him out after a fight" "hahaha how silly, life is normal
and fine hehe" meanwhile the parents turn down a different, hopefully normal
road
(the wrong kind is more than apparent.)
I guess also like... showers with parents? That's a sacred and holy thing.
straight-to-hell is when they make applications for children's iOS devices
that perform a typical, interesting function for a baby to use - like a game,
or a video of dancing animals, or shapes floating in a colorless void
(shoutout to Celebration of Color on vhs)
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--- #85 fediverse/3575 ---
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│ CW: re: leftist "talk to ur neighbours" thing │
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@user-1567
that's totally fine, a fish does not do well in a tree, and so too does a
leftist not do well in an environment without the potential for stable bonds.
Essentially all you'd be able to do is "hey leftism right?" "oh yes I also
leftism" "neat" which isn't very productive.
I also live in an environment like that. I do my best to identify people who
stay, because in my experience there are often people who stay. I do this by
walking around the neighborhood when I can, making up excuses to walk to the
dumpster or mailbox at random hours, riding my bike around the area, using the
communal spaces like gyms, swimming pools, and picnic tables, and sitting in
my hammock on my porch lazily noting people who walk past.
People who stay will tend to remain in your mind the more times you see them.
They are better people to talk to than the renters who disappear after 3
months or whatever.
I don't always do all that stuff at once. I take breaks. I do one at a time.
etc
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--- #86 notes/water-to-wine ---
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"is this a water party, or a wine party?"
"depends on if jesus is going..."
"okay I'm in, that guys so cool"
"yeah totally like any party with him just... feels like a great time"
"what a swell guy"
"really turns the "water to wine" y'know what I mean"
"yeah totes like what a guy"
"absolute unit"
"that guy can just do anything right"
"like whoa, he's so strong he could pick up a barn"
"yeah and like so handy and skillful, what a neat guy"
"oh and I heard he's really good with kids and animals, that sounds neat"
"yeah sounds like someone I'd surely like to meet"
"we should hang out with this guy more often"
"he seems pretty chill"
"well. not really. He's pretty expressive. Not very low key."
"true I'm just so burnt out from capitalism that-"
"-yeah dude I know."
"... fuck what are we gonna do about it"
"I dunno man, just... go along with it I guess"
"okay so uhhhh idk what that means"
"just be cool and play along"
"... what"
"..."
...
.
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--- #87 fediverse/1014 ---
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┌──────────────────────┐
│ CW: politics │
└──────────────────────┘
@user-744 @user-246
it's exhausting, but what are we supposed to do? Lie down and rot? That's
incel thinking. I'm not going to do that.
They've already placed the last straw. It's only a matter of time now, the
tide has shifted. You can't prepare for everything, and it's not a good idea
to waste yourself in self-conflageration, but they are increasingly forcing us
to orient our lives around them.
They deserve what's coming.
The oppressed are not the defeated.
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--- #88 notes/of-vic-and-vince-pt-2.txt ---
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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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@user-95 I spoke too soon. I stared at my ceiling for like 2 hours. It
definitely worked!
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--- #90 fediverse/5452 ---
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I never rest. Not mentally. I find it sooooo much harder to get moving again
once I'm asleep.
But I've been sleeping lately, because it's "good for me" or whatever. Because
I'm "burnt out and need to heal" or something.
Damnit why is it so much harder to stop snuggling someone than it is to pack
up a tent?
I'm like the guy in Hot Fuzz, that one really good movie about cops. oops cops
mentioned one second.
I'm always moving, but, I hardly ever seem to be able to get anything done.
Why is that? Is the work just... endless? Am I ever a slave to my
surroundings? Or am I just cursed with a mortal form, a form destined to toil
in whatever way it finds itself contextualized in?
Maybe I should just stop complaining. Maybe work is it's own reward or
whatever. I don't think I'm depressed anymore, although good luck getting me
to feel any emotions except focus, and the call to intercede on another's
behalf.
I don't have time for this. >.
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I once heard that time doesn't pass when you're well and truly in the moment,
and I thought "that's not true, I'm always losing track of the moment".
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--- #92 fediverse_boost/1023 ---
◀─╔══════════════════[BOOST]════════════════════─────────────────────────────────╗║┌────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐║║│ Okay I dunno who needs to hear this but please please please stop putting glass and ceramics in or on conventional heating elements like ovens or stoves unless the product is explicitly designed for it I;m begging │║║└────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘║╠─────────┐┌───────────╣║similar│chronological│different║╚═════════╧═══════════════════════════════════─────────────────────────┴───────╝─▶
--- #93 fediverse/999 ---
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@user-246 @user-473
there's a part of me that believes magic is real. other parts that are
convinced. I am a witch, you see, and while I can't quite control fire or
bullets I can do other neat things. if you'd let me, humanity.
I'm not doing an ARG, not intentionally. I pretty much post things I conceive
of, like a conduit passed through spacetime. wild how mind bending the future
can be. will be interesting to see what kinds of things there is in store for
people you and me.
those websites you posted... they're beautiful - I learned things, your method
of expression was too [the words "confess" are heard loudly, super weird] I
especially liked the oven that tries to lure you into a secret third place.
not the mind, nor the body, but someplace besides.
also the graphs and figures were news to me, I mean how could those numbers
ever come to be? but alas that's the truth, that we orbit our proof, and alas
that our meanings are lacking.
[ran out of text]
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me: "I don't care what anyone thinks as long as I'm a force for good"
also me: "if anyone doesn't like me ever I'll throw myself off a bridge"
also me: "hey watch this" dissolves into a puddle of acid
also me: "the most important thing is to be good and learn lessons" what
lessons are you learning from this post? "um. that I shouldn't?" ... shouldn't
learn? "no, shouldn't post" -.-
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... dangit, these sandwiches are getting kinda gross. Guess I'm gonna have to
eat them myself, which, uh... idk what I expected xD
sometimes you just have all this energy, right? and you don't know what to do
with it, so... sandwiches. And hey, sandwiches are cool, they're a pretty neat
anti-hunger tool! but uhhhh idk if I really want to eat six whole sandwiches
myself. I'm gonna do it though hehe wish me luck [ding] ah nuts my rice and
beans are done, hang on lemme eat those first
[passes out from exhaustion]
exhaustion can be cured with a nap
exertion can be cured with water and a few rest days
trauma can be allayed for at least a few days with soul food and compassion.
maybe laughter too, depending on the mood.
fear can be bolstered with a smile, a wink, and a courageous act,
and loss is just change you didn't consent to.
they won't consent too, so let's give them some change to tolerate.
[internally salivating over all the piles of weaponry that I envision them
surrendering]
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We were rich, but frugal, because we lived in the country, and that's what
frugal means.
Too bad my dad couldn't stifle his entrepreneurial spirit. We could have
stayed there forever on our own little ranch.
Alas, businesses need investment, so he needed to get something going.
Organizing is basically his *thing*
I doubt I'll ever again see Wyoming. I found some ancient stone ruins once,
the kind that Western conquerors never despoiled. They were ancient and
overgrown, but I saw them for what they were. I would give anything to live
there, or at least be near enough to visit with my crowd at a pleasant cool
midnight evening, when dusk has winked out its last goodbye and the summer is
resplendant with fireflies.
Too bad they're an east coast thing.
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Who is This Stranger I Know Too Well?
Who are you, he who inspires me?
You're a jewel of perfect symmetry.
You taught me to love and be free;
You taught me how to be like thee.
Chapter One: Out of the Frying Pan and Into the Fire
The bus went up outta Florida, leaving Miami behind as a distant memory. I
still don't know if I miss it or if I'm suffering from some sadistic style of
subtle Stockholm Syndrome. Regardless, I switched buses a number of times
before I even hit the Georgia border, but having traveled this far down the
line, it all feels like one long, long ride.
For two days, I continued north until arriving in Virginia, where I
effectively did a u-turn and traveled onwards to Tennessee, where Vince
awaited me. I remember zoning out while looking out the window as the southern
scenery whipped by in a blur, as I was enamored with the thought that I now
would be living with my best friend and long-term handler. My mission was
complete, it felt; I had done all that God wanted me to do and now I was being
rewarded.
When we finally arrived in Johnson City, where my friend told me to meet him,
I hopped off the bus after thanking the driver, landing on the pavement of a
new world. My stomach was doing loop-de-loops. Along with being excited, I was
grateful to Vince for inviting me off the streets. But, my worrisome mind did
a number on me as the rest of the crowd dispersed and he was still nowhere in
sight.
I lit a cigarette and thought of my options. Half of the cancer stick and a
thousand tricky thoughts later, I came up with the idea to call the only phone
number of his I had. Seems like the obvious answer, but I am an air head at
times.
Turned out it was the number for his home phone. His mom answered.
"Hello?" came the sweet, Appalachian voice from the other end.
"Hi," I started out, not sure what to say. "Is this Allison?"
"Yes it is," Allison replied. "Is this by chance Victoria?"
I confirmed, then asked, "Is Vince there?"
She seemed surprised. "No, he left an hour ago to pick you up. He's not there
yet?"
I said no. I couldn't tell if that made me feel better or worse. On one hand,
it confirmed that my friend Vince was real, which in hindsight was a silly
thing to worry about, as I had met him once before at the first Shrug Life
Syndicate gathering. Those were good memories. But, perhaps less silly, the
absence of my friend spun my mind out and made me think that perhaps he had
gotten in an accident…or worse.
I worry a lot, less now than before, but it's part of being a traumatized,
autistic, schizoaffective basketcase. I simply don't know what reality is, so
every possibility could be true. Is an odd occurrence caused by the CIA,
aliens, or perhaps God? Or is it just a coincidence, caused by a billion other
factors? I never can tell.
Sick joke: God gave me a good brain, but I can't even trust my own judgement.
That means I think, then overthink, then overthink some more. As you'll no
doubt hear, it's led to a lot of problems in my life, but Vince taught me to
place my heart first, and that helps sort out much of the confusion. Satan
can't trick you if you're listening to the direct communion to the big woman
that we all have through that little beating organ in our chest.
That was the furthest thing in my mind at that moment, though. Following old
habits, I was entering panic mode. Was I now homeless again in a seventh city?
Was my friend dead? Or was he really with the CIA and manipulating me? I tried
doing some breathing exercises, but found that a more alluring technique to
placate my triggered brain was finishing the rest of my cigarette in a fervor
as I paced the length of the transit depot.
Time ticked away one agonizing grain of sand after another, but after some
mindful recalibration of my thoughts, I began relaxing. My brain might be a
runaway train at times, but over the years I've learned to embrace the Shrug
Life. That's a bit of philosophy our gaggle of weirdos adheres to. When life
gives you lemons, just roll your shoulders and accept what is. Even though
something tough and unpleasant might be rearing its head in front of me, I
knew I had faced worse and come out on top. Worst case scenario, the road
ahead of me was just a little bumpier than I had expected, and I could handle
some bumps.
So, I rode the roller-coaster of extreme moods that is common to me, gradually
coming up with a contingency plan to survive if Vince had gotten flattened by
a semi, until I learned that was a pointless exercise when I heard a familiar
voice call out from behind me.
"Hey, buddy!"
I turned at once upon hearing those words. And lo and behold, there Vince was,
walking towards me in a purple tie-dye t-shirt, paint-splattered cargo shorts,
and fresh Chuck Taylors. His beard was fully grown but still shorter than
mine, though it was as wild as his uncombed hair poking out from a hat that
was as graffitied as his pants. I'll admit, it was a little bit of a shock
seeing him like that, as I remember him being clean shaven at the gathering
five years prior. However, that smile of his couldn't lie; this was the Vince
I've loved for even longer. And I won't lie, he looked better with the beard.
Without a second thought, I rushed up to my best friend, throwing my arms
around him. He did the same, and our embrace felt like it lasted forever. It
was good to finally be in his arms. We let go after about a quarter century of
hugging, and when he looked at me with a twinkle in his eye, I did a little
giddy dance while giggling like a schoolgirl. Afterwards, we caught up while
walking towards his mom's car, which he had parked around the corner.
"Sorry I was late. I forgot where the bus station was, but I found and
followed one of the short ones here. Your ride go alright?" he asked.
I nodded, telling him I wore my mask the entire way up despite how itchy it
was. He thanked me.
"Thanks man, mom will really appreciate that. We're taking this covid thing
real seriously. With mom being seventy-seven now and me finally reaching my
forties, we aren't willing to take risks with these things."
With that said, I thought of asking about the locals. "How many people go
maskless around here?"
"A lot," Vince answered with a hint of misfortune, knowing that I had just
come from a vastly different world. I sighed. It would be an adjustment to get
used to the rural Roan Mountain after spending most of my life in major
cities.
There was a pause as I thought about such things. I'm awkward like that. But
then I asked, "How have you been doing?"
He shrugged, as he tended to do. "I've been alright. It's just me and mom on
the mountain now, so it's a little rough, but we've been handling it the best
we can."
I nodded in compassion. As much as I was grateful for a place to live, I was
glad I could be here for him. If there's anything on this Earth that I know,
it's being alone is hell on the soul.
The conversation turned to what we were going to get into now that we were
together after all the years talking back and forth with one another online. I
asked, "What's the game plan?"
He smirked as we reached Allison's new blue Ford Escape with the cosmic
Bigfoot sticker on the back. "I got one, don't you worry."
I believed him, as a warm feeling of butterflies fluttered across my belly.
However, an odd, ominous feeling swept over me as I opened the passenger door,
where I immediately spotted a large burn mark on the seat. Vince saw me see
it.
"Yea, I did that while I was smoking while robotripping. Mom was pissed. Don't
worry about it."
And so I didn't. It was just a cigarette burn. Could have happened to anyone.
I didn't even have to see it after I hopped in the car, ready and eager to get
to my first permanent home in over three years.
I looked over at my friend climbing behind the wheel, and I saw he was smiling
wide with glee. Vince was happy; that meant I was happy. And that's what
mattered as we started a new life together.
Following the Path
Where are we going?
What are we sowing?
I certainly hope it's a better world for all.
But, many more people must stand tall,
By dutifully growing
A wealth of loving.
That is the true nature of our mortal trial,
So let us stand together and not crawl.
Yet, we are all showing
Some signs of slowing.
Therefore, I must pray that we do not fall,
When the two of us hear our creator's call.
Chapter Two: On the Road
We were about five minutes out of Johnson City on our way east towards the
North Carolina border when Vince finally folded and told me his secret plan he
had been boasting about for a month now.
"We got this trashed camper down by the old house that we can strip away and
sell as scrap metal. That should give us enough money to fix Jane and then we
should be set at getting our own place."
I nodded along, agreeing with his reasoning. That jeep of his definitely was
in need of some desperate repair the last time we were together. That was
actually the first time I ever saw him in person; he was parked at the top of
his long driveway with headlights cutting through the darkness as we arrived
for the first and only Shrug Life Syndicate gathering I've managed to attend.
I remember that we arrived exactly at midnight, not a minute sooner or later,
which made the moment highly synchronous.
Memories that far away seem to all blur together so everything feels like it
happened in one day, but the first Shrug Life Syndicate gathering lasted four
days, if you include the trip down and back. My girlfriend at the time, Amy,
and I were picked up in New York at her mother's house by another one of the
founders of our little online community. His name was [Redacted] and he was a
Canadian that dabbled in the cognitive sciences. Like Vince, he had been a
huge influence on me, but sadly that friendship fell apart as [Redacted] grew
disenfranchised with the SLS, most in particular with Vince himself, as there
were some personal disputes about Vince's dating life and drug of choice,
which compounded the push back of Vince wanting to turn our community into an
educational nonprofit. I can't speak of the former as I was devoid of internet
when the big schism happened, but I was all for doing something more with the
talent we collectively share. I'm sure that is part of the reason Vince
invited me to stay with him; we recognized the potential of each other to
shape the world into a better place.
That's not what Vince said though. As we approached the edge of Elizabethton,
he looked over at me and spoke with the tender kindness of a man with a big
heart.
"I'm glad you came here, man. I just couldn't stand to let my best bud live
another night outside. You know I've been there too, so I just want you to
know that our home is your home from now on."
Feeling moved, I replied, "Thanks. I don't know what to say. I'm just
grateful."
He put his hand on my shoulder as a brother would. We then rode in silence for
a minute or two, which allowed me to reflect on my past behavior during the
first gathering. Not only had I clogged the toilet and told no one, but I had
a few emotional outbursts as I was a mess back then. That's one of the reasons
that I believe homelessness was one of the best things that ever happened to
me. It pushed me so far out of my comfort zone that I had no choice but to
change for the better.
That was great because I was impulsive and dangling precariously from the
heights of my oversized ego. I think that was a critical part of my
transformation. Sleeping in piss-stained, cockroach infested storefronts
humbled me, and I realized that everybody is just trying to swim in the
direction they feel is best. Thus, radical acceptance is a moral imperative.
Vince taught me that. I've profited immensely in ways other than financial
wealth by embracing such values, but I wish more people could see this truth.
Alas, tis the blind leading the blind.
With that in mind, as we continued onwards to our now-conjoined future, we
passed through the back roads of Elizabethton through a route known as Gap's
Creek, which proved to be a winding set of backroads with more churches than
seemed reasonable. One of these cultural staples had a big electronic
billboard out front, sharing the times of services and other announcements;
none of which you could actually read as you drove by at the speed limit.
Still, when we reached the intersection with highway 19E, there was a woman
flying a sign, asking for money. Since this town seemed devoid of any
institutions to help the poor, I rolled my window down and handed her a fiver.
I knew what it was like being up shit creek without a paddle, so I wanted to
alleviate some of that stress for somebody else.
I begged a lot at the beginning of my homeless journey. I didn't know how to
survive, as I had not been raised with many good life lessons to help me stay
afloat on my own. That in itself is part of the reason I had a major breakdown
in college. It was undeniably true that I was maladapted to the world. My
experiences with Earth Nation are also indisputably built from that
maladaptation. Yet, those years of homelessness after escaping that new age
cult allowed me to grow into a sustainable, productive woman with my juggling,
performance arts, and writing.
They say you can give a man a fish, and he'll eat for a day, but if you teach
a man to fish, he'll eat for a lifetime. That's part of the reason I was and
still am a huge proponent of education in all its forms. I knew Vince felt the
same way, but perhaps for different reasons. As a secular Buddhist and radical
antistyle artist, he was a minority in the deep interior of the Bible Belt,
and that came with a price while he was growing up. It might be a beautiful
area, but neither of us would ever raise a kid here.
It was then when it hit me. I couldn't be Victoria here. I had to be Vic.
Which was fine, that's how the gang members in Miami Beach referred to me. I
was able to accept being called by masculine names and pronouns. I had long
passed through the self-loathing phase of having dysphoria, to arrive in a
position where I openly grow my beard out to prove that I don't need to look
any particular way to be happy. I don't care what other people think of me,
but I haven't always been this enlightened. To put it lightly, I've been
through some trials. And, having done so, I can say that people who judge
other people on superficial things are the worst. But, we can rise above by
continuing to align with our hearts.
Less than a tenth of a mile down 19E, Vince asked me, "Hey man, can you buy
me, like, a forty or something?"
Of course I said yes. I knew his schizophrenia had put him out of work for
many years, so I wanted to soothe him as he was able to soothe my pain from
being homeless. He pulled into a gas station I would later learn is
colloquially called Captain Jack's. It had the cheapest gas this side of
Elizabethton, and was a reliable place to get beer or a pipe of any variety.
With compassion in my heart, I got Vince what he wanted, while getting myself
something as well. Still, when he cracked his beer open while accelerating to
sixty miles an hour, I couldn't help but feel distraught at such brazen
self-indulgence. But, all I did about it was pop open the hard iced tea I
picked up for myself. At least passengers are allowed to drink while they are
being driven somewhere in Tennessee, Vince tells me.
A Home at Last
They say home is where the heart is,
Which is great now that I have a new one.
The damaged needle of my crazy compass
Spins in every direction under the sun,
But, here it stands still, still as can be,
So my quest is over; I am finally free!
I have a home in the love you give
And by reflecting that in me, we live
In a state where conflict has come to pass;
It is like there was a great lottery and I won.
Chapter Three: The Mountain Side
About ten minutes later we reached the western half of Roan Mountain, where we
were greeted by a big sign praising the annual Rhododendron Festival at the
end of June. Having already downed half his forty, Vince spared no time in
showing me the highlights of his home town.
"Look under this bridge coming up. You'll see it underneath. The red and the
gold." He pointed directly at a graffiti tag on the concrete column near the
riverfront. There was an enigma of a symbol I've seen Vince post on the SLS
before.
"That your tag?" I asked the obvious question.
"Yup," he replied, gulping down another swallow of his forty, as there was no
incoming traffic. "Protip: don't post your tags on Facebook if you plan to hit
a cop car around here." I thought at first he meant literally running into
their vehicle, but then it dawned on me what he meant. I had never done any
real graffiti before; just some words and simple drawings in chalk that came
right off. Never got in trouble for it, at least.
I remember passing the post office some time shortly afterward. There was a
park with a stage behind it. Allison would organize the summer's music events
that went on each Saturday from May to August. Additionally, she would host
one of her weekly jam sessions there for local musicians to play together for
a few hours at a time, just for fun.
There were some houses on the left, too, as we were entering the more dense
center of Roan Mountain. Yet, Vince told me that the other side, where the
park was, used to be full of trailers, but they got washed away during a flood
some years ago. I later learned from Allison that most of the town, including
her as she was out and about, had to evacuate to the elementary school where
she provided extra clothes for those in need from her suitcase, but Vince and
his father were fine at the top of the mountain that their property sat on.
Puerto Nuevo, the best and only Mexican restaurant in town, whipped by soon
after. We then passed one of the two gas stations in Roan Mountain, a
Scotchman. There was a bank and a credit union on the left, too. An empty
grocery store zoomed by next, which might as well be haunted for all I know.
Next up on the left was a food truck that has since been upgraded to a small
building with picnic tables and some cover from the sun and weather. I think
it is a good place to eat. It also marked the spot of the Roan Mountain flea
market, where you could see one or two people at a time selling their stuff in
the warmer months. Then, immediately after that stood a pharmacy in an old
farmhouse.
There was some construction on the right, which by its future signage, I
erroneously thought was some sort of massage parlor that sat on stilts,
requiring everybody to walk up a story of steps just to get inside. Odd
choice, I thought. But, on a whim one day, Vince stopped there to see if they
sold cheap kratom, which was when I would learn that it was really a health
food store.
Not too far down the traffic-light free main strip of the town, we passed the
future beer store on the right. It was convenient for Sundays, because that's
when a local ordinance in our neighboring North Carolinian town, Elk Park,
restricts the sale of alcohol on the sabbath, but ultimately the alcohol taxes
in Tennessee are too high to make it a cheap endeavor.
To contrast the beer store, the local cemetery sat across the street on a
hill. I like graveyards, as I'm a bit of a goth at heart, but even so, the
packed parking lot of the Redimart grocery store was what caught the bulk of
my attention. I craned my neck to see some of the locals to uncover just what
passed as acceptable culture here in this quaint mountain town.
Further up, the infamous Bob's Dairyland with the slowest drive-through known
to man stood tall with its vast history. There's a reason it's always packed
after church lets out on Sundays. Yet, I still don't understand why their sign
promotes pinto beans, of all things. I've been told it's a hot ticket item in
the area, but I have still not witnessed anyone order them. But, moving on, I
have to mention that there was also an auto part shop conjoined with an auto
repair shop that had over a dozen cars just sitting outside it.
Next to Bob's was the second gas station, a Valero, which also housed a
much-frequented Subway. One of three thrift stores in town stood innocently
next to the gas station. On the right was a steakhouse that I have never had
the cash to justify splurging at, and a beauty salon in the same building that
I also have never visited because I'm not one to care for looking like a doll.
I am beautiful as I am.
The town was really shaping up to be a unique combination of the bare bones
mixed with an abundance of what you needed. Then we reached a stretch where
two signs sat. The one for Cloudland Highschool triggered Vince into speaking.
"Fucking assholes. I told you about how they illegally expelled me, right?" I
nodded in confirmation. He continued: "Yea, they literally stole my book of
poetry and took photocopies of it, so they could use it to kick me out,
because I was the 'weird' kid."
I knew that, but seeing the innocent sign next to the one for Smoky Mountain
Bakers made the story appear more real. Here they were, these conservative
administrators, probably constituting some of the people who attended the
dozens of churches in town, which should teach everybody to love thy neighbor,
but obviously they were too preoccupied by the need to hate my friend because,
back then, he was the blue-haired son of the "hippie couple" in town, who
happened to like bands like Marilyn Manson and Korn.
That made me wonder how well I would fit in here. I had long since forsaken
transitioning because I was effectively a sasquatch, but I was still a woman
on the inside. I was sure that being transgender, combined with my eccentric
nature and often extreme opinions on things would cement me as the new weirdo
in town. But, if I am to be honest, that would be the case in most settings I
could plant myself in.
Those thoughts fluttered in my head as we sped past the electrical co-op, a
second thrift store, Plumber's Pro Hardware, the Roan Mountain emergency
dispatch center, and what was apparently a flooring depot before reaching the
elementary school that sat across from the Dollar General, which Vince called
the "SmallMart." I'm aware there's some things I missed, as there's plenty of
buildings with no description or sign out front, but I'm sure they're
important to somebody.
We then started slowing down as we approached the only veterinarian's office
for quite a ways in any direction. We turned left just before the red-roofed
building which had a small cat statue perched on the edge looking out with its
paw up. Vince took this as a sign to begin downing the rest of his beverage.
"Welcome to home, Buck Mountain," Vince said as we started climbing in
altitude. "This is the bad side of town. You'll never see a cop here unless
something big is going down, which hasn't happened in years." He finished his
forty in one big chug as his hands ran on autopilot. "It's good because you
can do pretty much anything up here any time you want."
I knew all that, as we had a blast getting drunk and smoking some green for a
few days in a row during the first gathering. In truth, I anticipated I would
be doing that for the next few days as well, to settle in, y'know? Hell, I
half expected that I was in heaven now after spending so much time in the
purgatory that is homelessness, regardless of how much fun I had in Miami
Beach preceding Vince's invitation to come north.
We went to the very tippy top of Buck Mountain, where the foliage is dense, no
cell signal can reach, and the local kids ride their dirt bikes at all hours
of the day. As we pulled in the driveway, I expected to keep going straight on
the tire-carved path back down the mountain. But, to my surprise, I found that
the same trailer we had partied in down the road during the gathering was now
relocated here to become my new home. I wasn't expecting that, as when I was
here last, they all lived in a small shack at the base of their nineteen acres
of mountain real estate.
It didn't look like much, with weather-worn imitation wood paneling wrapping
the rectangular structure in a loose hug, but it was a place to rest my head
in the comfort of loved ones. Aptly, Allison's last name meant "the home" in a
language the CIA once tried to make me learn, which is a statement that I'm
sure earns me a few raised eyebrows. My story has many twists and turns, but
for now you should know my studies of strategic languages ended only when the
cult that hooked me like an unsuspecting bass managed to gaslight, manipulate,
and shame me to get me to work for them sixty-to-ninety hours a week on
average. I would later try to pick the linguistic challenge back up years
later during my time spent homeless, but my progress was like a Jenga tower
that half collapsed. I forgot basic words, and I just feel like I have
failed.
That's something that should be looked at in finer detail; my feelings of
failure, I mean. So, let's take the first of many breaks from linear
storytelling to express how life can feel at times for me. Like a shattered
mirror, I reflect many different parts of the past at different times. Some
days I may live in several sections of my turbulent past all at the same time.
Disorienting, it can feel like I don't know what's real. It takes a lot to
break something so thoroughly, but as you'll see, I've been a punching bag for
the devious spirit of fate. Couldn't keep me down, though, because I am like
the phoenix; always rising no matter how badly beaten in battle I've become.
Mommy
Mommy is what I used to call you,
When I was a kid so long ago.
It's because of your love that I grew
To always let my kindness show.
Mommy, you were always getting sick.
To help you out, I would try to keep clean.
As much as I'd scrub I never got the trick,
Because you'd still be plagued by the unseen.
Mommy, you were supposed to grow old!
Having you leave us like that hurt like hell.
I'm sorry for not always doing what I was told;
It's because I failed you that I try to do well.
Mommy was what you called out at the end.
I tried to help you but I wasn't good enough.
You were dying, so on me you had to depend,
But even being there for you was too tough.
Mommy, if I could do it all over again I would.
It's not fair to you that I was such a bad son.
I'll give you all my love and more as I should;
For you, I promise that one day I'll be the sun.
Chapter Four: Scarred from Birth
Having let you in to a little bit of what makes me tick, it should be noted
that feeling like an abysmal failure is a key part of my mental health. Those
loathsome seeds of self-mutilating ruination are planted deep in my psyche.
Prepare for a sad story, if you're the type to really feel another person's
soul.
See, it all started when my mom found out she had AIDS a mere two months after
I was born. It was God's way of welcoming me to the world. I forgive the big
woman now, for my path on this Earth has been the ultimate journey of
awakening to my divine spirit, but before Vince and many faceless actors sent
me on my mission of healing, I held much scorn in my heart. For a large chunk
of my early years that I was here, alive, learning, and suffering as a human
being, I was hell-bent on the idea of revenge. That was once a big part of my
story, too, but no more.
It's understandable, at least. Imagine having to witness all the manner of
disease ravaging my mother like it did; I grew up thinking that I was born to
be punished. My earliest delusions had me caught up in the notion that I was a
worthless god who had the rest of the pantheon turn on them from before I even
had a chance to prove myself. I had a whole mythos where I had been tricked to
kill my sister, the goddess of harmony, and my punishment was to stay locked
to this awful planet until I found her soul once again. Then, we'd go on to
take over the world, as I had fallen under the notion that my future self was
sending me subliminal messages through synchronicities, although I didn't know
that word then, so I thought I just had special powers.
This is all a natural result of magickal thinking gone awry. Such is the fate
for those scarred in childhood as I was. My innocence flayed alive, I watched
as the woman who loved me with all her heart died for the first nine years of
my life. It was a slow rot. There are many memories of her being in the
hospital or as she lingered in pain at home that flash to the front of my mind
that could paint you a tragic picture of those unforgettable scenes I was
forcibly cast in, but the real horror that plagues me came at the bitter end.
For the last of her months that she was allowed to live, my mom was
mercilessly struck by an opportunistic ear infection. It killed half of her
face, and only progressed into a hellishly rapid descent of her cognitive
functions until one sudden day I came home from school to find she had
regressed to a child-like state with my grandma tending to her in tears. I
tried losing myself in my homework, but the threat in my environment promising
my mother's pain was all-consuming. Then it got worse.
My father never got along with my grandma, so when he got home, he forcibly
kicked her out. A fight broke out, resulting in my grandmother coming to my
room to say goodbye, where she told me with eyes watering that whatever
happens, we would get through it. My dad would come in after my grandma left
and put her down, more concerned that she scratched him. All I could think
about was my mom, who was now tearing up and asking about where her mom went.
That was the worst. I can still hear clearly how she cried out for her mom
nonstop for the whole night. That was her last night she spent at home. She
died within a week. And my last memory of her that isn't of her in a coma is
of her trying to escape from the hospital with a dinner plate sized bed sore
on her backside that danced from behind an open hospital gown in order to
imprint itself in my mind forever.
Here come the tears. It still hits me that my fucking mom died, like I still
can't believe it's real. My last memories are of her being naked, crying like
a baby. I felt so helpless. But, at least she had nurses helping her when we
got her to the emergency room. Just hours earlier, I was left on my own trying
to calm her troubled, addled mind. My dad had been doing just that, as my mom
would get in fits every half hour or so, where he would comfort her, then come
into my room to vent after she quieted down. I had no one to open my fears and
pain to. Wishing I had a sibling to hold and cry together with, I faced my
most scarring memory alone.
The worst wounds of my life were suffered because there was one time after
midnight where my dad disappeared. Maybe he was smoking, but regardless, I
couldn't find where he went as I scrambled over the whole house in my fuzzy
purple pajamas looking for him. Meanwhile, my mother incessantly yelled for
her own mommy. So, with much hesitancy, I succumbed to the responsibility of
helping my afflicted parent, and I anxiously marched into her room and tried
to comfort her the best I knew how.
I'll save you from the daunting process of assisting my mom, but I will say
that it wasn't enough. No matter what I tried to do, she kept screaming
louder. I was worthless in that moment and was on the verge of a meltdown
because I couldn't help her. It felt like I was the worst son in the world,
all because I failed my mother as she circled the drain. Now I feel like the
worst daughter, but it's getting easier to love myself and think that my mom
is looking down and smiling, being proud of me.
I have a lot to live up to. She wasn't perfect, I know that, but my mom was an
angel for me. Yet, I can't even remember the good times I spent with her; all
that my hippocampus hung onto were the most traumatizing of memories. A
notable cause of this was her fierce Sicilian temper. A vision of being
brought to tears because I dared go looking for my six-year birthday presents
early is playing in my head at this moment. Now one is summoned of her ripping
into me for booing someone at an assembly because I wanted to be like a
character I saw in a cartoon. Finally, one of my earliest memories from
preschool is trapped in my cranium; it regards me accidentally tearing a hole
in a kid's shirt and dreading my mother finding out for the rest of the day.
In short, I got in trouble a lot, but I know that both my parents cared about
me growing up right. Along with all the punishments, there was a genuine
heartfelt desire to get me and my different brain to develop into a successful
combo of kindness and good citizenry. Still, because of how trauma inserts
itself into one's inner reality, I really feel like my entire childhood was
one screw up after another in regards to my mother. Although, my dad
contributed his fair share of ruthless discipline to make me perpetually feel
like I was always in the wrong as well.
And I know that's all a fallible perception, because I can distinctly remember
the look on both my parents' faces when I won first prize in our school's
science fair; if you're curious, I did an experiment on taste and smell to
understand what was going on with my mom and her ear infection. That standing,
my mom's face is cemented in memory in particular, perhaps too well, actually,
because she just had the stitches removed from her eye. Such happiness danced
in her left eye, but next to it sat its unmoving, dead counterpart. She tried
to joke about it being her evil eye, but that didn't stop fourth grade
Victoria from being terrified of the harsh reality unfolding in front of her.
I dreamed of her a lot after she passed. Always in pain, or worse, possessed
by some demon and seeking to bring me pain. There's one nightmare in
particular that stands out. I forget how it started, but it ended in the
cemetery where she is buried. Well, her coffin was exhumed, and as I got
closer, it slammed open and my mom sat up. Only it wasn't my mom. She was
rotten like a zombie and had malevolence bursting from behind her undead eyes.
I did the only thing I could; I ran. But, she followed and in the utmost
haunting voice, she yelled in pursuit, "You can't escape me, Victoria! I am
your mother and together we are bound forever." Fitting as a metaphor for how
my grief still hasn't dissipated more than twenty years down the line.
I'm sorry, I just miss her. Best damn mom in the world, going above and beyond
what she needed to do to give me the best chance at success in life, despite
being on her literal death bed for most of her last years. I don't even know
her, not really as an adult knows someone, which in itself leads to more
feelings of failure. She has been transmuted into an archetype of a hero in my
eyes, and I feel that I can never be as strong as that woman who was my first
love.
I can try though. I always try. Part of being hyper-vigilant, I reckon.
Perhaps that makes me strong. Perhaps it makes me a fool. Or maybe it just
means I'm human and going to have virtues as well as flaws. It's taken me a
long while to escape the black and white thinking that trapped me in a world
where I either felt like the epitome of the second coming or compounded as the
most useless, subhuman mutant on the planet. Those were truly hard times,
being locked in the halls of my mind like a prison.
But…the past is the past and we best not linger on it, because even now,
years later, I felt welcomed by a second family, and for that I am eternally
grateful. I vowed to return their love to them in spades, because that's what
my mom always tried to teach me. Being neurodivergent, I didn't always get the
message, but because I threw myself at the lessons life threw at me, I learned
to cherish those people who enter my life. You never know what you have until
you lose it. And I wasn't planning on losing Vince.
All You Need
Once you live on the street
You grow on the concrete.
Having done so myself
I can claim that wealth
Is just a fancy illusion.
You say that's a delusion,
But look how I'm happy
With only what you see.
I don't need a fancy bed
In order to rest my head;
Instead, I'm in the know
That less is the way to go.
Chapter Five: A Real Home
Allison greeted us at the door with a wide, warm smile, but she wasn't the
only one to do so. Vince's greying black lab, Freya, adorned in a pretty
lavender bandana, came up to smell this new person in her domain. She must
have recognized my scent from years ago because she didn't bark at all,
instead choosing to snaffle all over me while wagging her tail vigorously. Of
course, I started petting her immediately, as I began to take in my
surroundings.
I could only remember seeing the interior of the trailer in the pitch
blackness of the starry mountain night, but I remembered the general layout:
doors to the outside in the kitchen and living room, which were separated by a
long counter where the kitchen sink sat, and then bedrooms branching off from
each end, both of which had a bathroom accompanying them. Yet, I did not
recall that this space was as run-down as the exterior, with chunks of the
linoleum floor missing and rotting wood at the rear door, not to mention a
steady helping of cobwebs latching onto the ceiling fixtures.
Yet, despite the condition the trailer was in, it still had a touch of love
sprinkled throughout it. There were five paintings in the living room, one
done by Allison herself, as well as one around the corner near her loom that
took up half the kitchen space. More were in Allison's room to the right of
the entrance. On the opposite side of the house by the windows sat Allison's
battle station, where she would play solitaire and check Facebook and her
email religiously while sitting in an old navy blue wheelchair that used to be
for Vince's father. There was a couch and a couple tables full of stuff
stacked on them, to include a silver urn that sat on its own table with a vase
of local flowers. With the three of us, plus Freya and the trio of feral cats
that tamed themselves to come in and eat, respectively named Libertas, Biggie
Meows, and Spot, this little dwelling was a tight fit, but it was cozy in a
way that I had not known family life to be growing up.
In the process of greeting me, Allison asked, "What have you been up to while
you were down in Miami Beach?"
I didn't want to tell her everything, but I told her the truth. "I wrote a
lot, mainly in the park on Ocean Drive, or where I slept on Lincoln Road,
unless I was spending time in North Beach which had better food options for me
with my limited resources. Mostly, I just tried to survive each day, putting
distractions between me and the day-to-day struggles of being out there like
that."
She smiled. "Well, we're glad to have you. Vince talks about you a lot." I
blushed a little bit at that, but I'm sure neither of them saw my rosy cheeks
through the gnarled barb that constituted my ever-growing beard.
Allison then moved on to practical matters. "So, where do you want to sleep?
We have the couch, which would be where I would set up shop, but you can
always sleep in Vince's room if you prefer."
I looked at the couch. It seemed comfy enough, but I didn't care about
comfort. As much as I knew Vince was doing me a solid by letting me stay here,
I knew I was going to help him too. His posts on the SLS combined with his
frequent messages to me were made out of desperation; he was clearly strung
out and looking for any human contact whatsoever.
Since his schizophrenia started interfering with his life, he had spent six
years at the top of this mountain and he said he was going stir crazy. I would
learn that there's little to do here but drink, do some drugs, and fiddle
about on your computer and phone while dealing with the internet that is made
out of sticks and stones, and that could get boring fast. Devoted to this new
cause, I wasn't going to let my best friend suffer anymore. I was going to
make his life better by livening up the long days by being his constant
companion.
As a result, I told Allison that I would find a spot in Vince's room to rest
my head. She asked me if I was sure, and I nodded affirmingly with an eager
grin. I had made up my mind.
Some more hem-hawing back and forth with Allison about general questions and
concerns followed, but when we were finished, Vince took me to his room, which
was beyond the rolling metal desk Allison used for her computer. A busted door
clung to its hinges, but it didn't block our way.
Calling Vince's room a mess would be an insult to messes everywhere. He had
said that he would clean it up prior to my arrival, but there were likely two
hundred beer cans stacked in mountains next to his bed, or in beer-amids as he
called them. I looked around, honestly impressed at how dedicated to creating
a disaster zone as he was.
Looking over the permanent staples of the room, he had a television and an
Xbox, an empty dresser, a filthy nightstand, and a bed without any sheets. He
also had a handful of paintings, most of which were stacked together by the
door, but there was a trippy painting of Vince's father on the west wall above
the dresser, as well as an expressionist painting from the sixties behind the
television which sat on the north wall, in between the bathroom and the
closet. There was also a picture of a moth on a skull tacked to the wall,
which gave me the heebie jeebies.
It was then that I saw it. A large, two-hundred fifty tablet bottle of generic
Dollar General antihistamines, pure diphenhydramine, sat on his dresser, just
spiting me with its presence. I almost asked right then and there for Vince to
get rid of the damn thing. I knew if I found an opportunity to down, say,
six-hundred milligrams of that accursed stuff, I would. Then I would do
terrible, awful, deplorable things to myself. But shame won out. I didn't want
to let him know of my problem. Maybe I could control myself. So I shut up and
about-faced out of the room.
While doing box breathing, I dropped my backpack that contained all of my
possessions on the couch in the living room, and helped Vince grab some
fifty-five gallon black trash bags in the kitchen. We made quick work of the
unending hoard of Natty Daddy cans, as well as the nightstand full of
cigarette butts. We then moved his bed so it was against the south wall.
It hadn't taken long, but the room was looking presentable. It didn't need to
be a five-star hotel, because I had the most important thing of all: family. I
felt more than welcomed as a guest. I was one with these people who had so
graciously let me into their home. We were going to all be happy together.
That was the goal, at least.
I Forgive You
I forgive you, but I can never forget.
I'm sorry if I make you look like shit,
But your heavy hand and sharp wit
Damaged me greatly; then you gaslit
Me, denying everything, and I quit
Knowing what was real. I even slit
My flesh open so that I could get
A sense of what I could feel. So, I sit
Here now explaining why I wasn't fit
To handle this world that I saw as a pit
That I escaped only when God had lit
A beacon of light with some magick.
Chapter Six: Growing Up With Family
There was still one task we had to get done before I could claim a spot to be
my bedspace. Vince had more clothes than he knew what to do with, most of
which had spray paint spackled all over them in no particular form or pattern;
the style of the antistyle artist. As we moved the rolling hills of clothing
into the dresser and a heaping pile beside it, I came to understand why Vince
called himself a diva.
I remember having a lot of clothes just a few years prior. Even though I
didn't care what I wore, I had earned so many free T-shirts over the years
from track meets and other races. I had so much when I needed so little.
That's one major reason I forgive my dad for kicking me out of his house,
because it was the best thing for me. Not only that, but I deserved it. I was
a wreck of a human being before I got abruptly humbled by my odyssey on the
streets. The extended experience changed me so I am no longer as much of an
emotionally volatile basketcase.
To put it mildly, being an unstable problem of a person was the reason I was
kicked out in the first place. I had always been sort of bipolar since middle
school. But, after escaping the cult, breaking up with my girlfriend, Amy, and
returning home a failure, my heart and mind were like a pile of fragmented
ceramic shards mockingly showing what a real piece of pottery my mind could
have been. Unshockingly, I was barely holding it together. I was having
outbursts frequently, but they weren't ungodly terrible, as I was being guided
by higher dimensional life forms through inputs on my laptop, and that gave me
a sense of ease.
In fact, I remember a great reprieve of my stress occurred on an acid trip in
the first month I was back. It felt like God Herself was setting up a lesson
for me, which started with me literally waking up to a picture of a white
rabbit taunting me on my Facebook feed, which I followed, and in doing so, I
received personalized inputs that unveiled the blinders from in front of my
eyes. In but a few hours after a lifetime of denial, it all clicked with me
that I had a warm, nurturing side that I had neglected for most of my life.
That was the first time I accepted that I was a woman. And that's still not
the most profound, life-altering acid trip I've had.
Even so, I would break down crying that afternoon as I meditated under the
tree in the backyard where I used to swing. With no more effort than it took
to breathe, I saw all the parts of me that Amy tried to teach me about, but I
was unable to comprehend in my denial. Likewise, the waterworks were called
upon that night as I told my dad about my revelation, and he said he would
always love me no matter what. That was the most affectionate heart to heart
with him I think I've ever had, even if he did ramble about random things
being at a loss of what to say to me, as we had functionally lived in two
separate worlds inside the same house for years.
This sentiment would flip on its head though, as I blogged about my gender
revelations and my dad found them and read I had taken a narcotic in his
house. Naturally, he was pissed and wouldn't hear that the tender moment we
shared that night was only possible because I had taken the sacrament. This
would prove to be the kicking off point to some logarithmic growth in tensions
between the two of us.
Then, on that fateful day, one of the countless pets my dad kept, a black,
stubborn minipig named Harley, had made a literal pigsty of the house after I
had a bad session at my therapist's, who made me feel like a piece of shit. I
wasn't perfect, but I wasn't going to just lay down and get called a terrible
person because of how I behaved in treatment years ago, when I was still very
lost. It triggered my feelings of failure, which rippled into waves of
unstable emotional dysregulation. In my explosive rage, I broke the microwave
and put a basketball-sized hole in the wall behind my makeshift bed in the
attic that I was allotted after they gave my brother my room when I was in the
cult.
Well, my father came home after a long day at work, saw the microwave, and had
enough of me. He came thumping up the stairs, livid, ready to rip me to shreds
verbally, when he saw the hole I had made. Beside himself, he demanded I get
out right then and there. I broke down crying and begged him to let me stay,
grappling with his leg as a wounded bear might wrap itself around the base of
a small tree looking for any shelter it can find in a storm.
That just made him madder. He kicked me off, and accused me of a thousand
things. The ones that stuck were that I was just like my mother and that I was
beyond anyone's help. As it happened in a heated flash, I don't remember
exactly how the exchange was put together, but it ended with me asking him how
all the hand-crafted trinkets and doodads my mother made for me before she
died had gotten destroyed and thrown away. What he said next drove me mad.
"I'm still pissed that you made me do that."
I'll illuminate you with the scenario in question. I was eleven, and my
stepmom at the time was away at a darts tournament. I think my dad somehow got
the idea that she was doing drugs and cheating on him. I don't know, I was
eleven. I just remember some of the things he said over the phone, and then
what was said when they divorced when I was a couple of years later.
Over my stepmom's absence, he got continuously more pissy, like he did the
year before when the sewage line broke and he snapped while cleaning it up,
smashing my head into the kitchen floor several times, relenting only when
his girlfriend at the time called to hang out. Now seeing the same pattern in
my father, I was on edge, especially after I put my feet up on the new couch
and he grabbed my leg and punched me in the tibia as hard as he could. I kept
trying to do everything right to avoid being attacked again, but alas, in my
anxious worry, I forgot to take out the kitchen garbage on trash night.
That triggered a whole day of what might not be considered torture, but
certainly was child abuse, which started as he cleared the shelves of all my
memories in a violent, thrashing rage. He would bag up the shattered remains
so he could take them to the dump, but only after he laid his hands on me.
My head was used as a battering ram against my door, which my dad would later
deny was where the big dents came from in a bout of the worst gaslighting I
experienced before the cult got their hands on me. Regardless, when he
finished and slammed me back on the wood floor, I instinctively reached out
and grabbed his wrist. He growled, "Don't resist or I'll make it worse."
Feeling my spirit collapse, I helplessly accepted the next phase of punishment
that then ensued. Mostly, it consisted of him using my head to pound the
knowledge that I fucked up into my brain, with much hair pulling and getting
tossed to new locations, once being told to lay there like a dog in the wet
remnants of a broken snow globe while he went for a smoke break. Thankfully,
or maybe not, depending on your perspective, he never struck me. He was too
smart to leave bruises.
After much of that series of traumatizing instances, he had me sit still and
think of an apology for him for hours on end. While I was busy doing that, he
would then have an epiphany, telling me that I should stand, as I didn't
deserve to sit. I didn't care about such details at the time. I was in shock,
petrified that he would go ahead and find the homework I failed to finish or
the porn I had taken from my stepmom. Fearing unimaginable doom, I stared
unwaveringly at the letter "E" on the spine of a book on my bookshelf. Never
relenting in his anger, he would come by every hour or so and ask for an
apology. Everything I said wasn't good enough, and each attempt earned me
scathing criticism, but I kept trying to perfect my apology. I still remember
the gist of it.
"I sorry dad, I deserve everything. I'm sorry I caused you grief and failed to
do my duty of taking out the trash. I won't ever forget again. I haven't been
putting my best effort forward, but I realize that I need to do that to be a
good son. You do so much for me. It's only fair that I pay it back to the best
of my ability. That's what I had to do for mom when I chose to play video
games while she was dying. I wasn't thinking about other people then, and I
wasn't now. I'm so, so sorry. I promise to be better, because I need to be if
I'm messing up this much."
For reference, my dad holding the fact I escaped into the worlds of my video
games after being told to spend time with my mom near the end was something
he'd bring up and hold over my head anytime I was in trouble. Yet another big
reason that feeling like a failure is cemented in my head. It made me feel
awful, absolutely atrocious about being a bad son that I would often
contemplate suicide. I almost jumped off a waterside when my dad and I went to
Disney World when I was ten, but ultimately I'm glad I talked my way out of
jamming a knife into the back of my neck. I had thought that the muscle
allowing me to nod my head was really my brainstem. That would have been
painful.
Back on this day of doom, I was too numb to think of killing myself. I was
simply a raft on a river floating downstream where the current may carry me. I
simply stood there for hours, too terrified to even stretch my tiring legs. My
mind was fuzzy, and all it could do was focus on making that apology better.
After many attempts and razor sharp lectures later, which was maybe ten hours
worth of events, he starts yelling at me that I'm just as irresponsible as my
mom, just like he would do when he kicked me out. This time was unimaginably
worse though. This was actually how I first found out that my mom had AIDS; I
was told it was cancer up until this point. His shaved bald head was as red as
a cherry tomato while he barked at me, telling me that I would die like her.
That hurt. It hurt a lot. I felt like the definition of a shit stain, in a
number of different ways.
But soon, my attention became focused on my vision. I couldn't see straight,
and not long after my dad's roaring visage disappeared in a sea of amorphic
grey figments, I apparently passed out, to wake up on the couch with a bag of
frozen peas on my head and my dad worried. He asked me if I remembered what
happened. I shook my head. I was allowed to go to bed after that. It wasn't
over because I failed to kiss my dad good night, but at least that only
resulted in him jamming the teeth of the comb into my scalp as he combed my
hair for some reason.
The next morning he was completely changed. He was remorseful upon seeing me
and wrapped me in a big hug. Yet, he seemed scared, like he realized he went
too far. I thought about telling my teacher or counselor about it the next day
of school, but something in me told me not to. It's the same thing that's
making me hesitant to write this chapter at all. It's love, but this hell I
went through is also a part of my story. This is the worst incident I've
experienced with my father, but it's not the only one.
It's all cause and effect really. You abuse a traumatized child in the wake of
their mother's death, and is it any wonder that they fall apart later in life?
I'll go on record saying I was never a bad person, just broken, impulsive, and
hopelessly conformed to the whims of my faulty biology. I had bugs in my
operating system, but I'm eternally grateful for all the help I had while on
my spiritual awakening, which you might call a psychotic break that spanned
years, but I knew it better as specialized CIA training.
The Good Magician
Just what do you consider magick?
Is it not that which bends the fabric
Of what we colloquially call reality?
Who cares what it is your eyes see
When in your heart you can feel
The warmth of love; that's the real
Power of a magician who is great
Enough to save you from your fate.
Chapter Seven: Magickal Companions
Back in Vince's room, I was silently wondering what shenanigans were in store
for us now that we were a unified team. I knew Vince had many secrets of the
universe locked away in his balding cranium, and we would have a blast letting
the CIA manifest a joint mission we took on together. As I said, he was my
handler, after all.
So, when the room was cleared, and I had a space all to myself in the corner
by the closet, I was more than happy. Both Vince and Allison insisted on
getting me a bedroll, but I had all I needed and more right there in my
friend. Besides, his room was carpeted and quite comfy already, at least to my
standards that had been shaped by becoming accustomed and content with
concrete underneath me. I didn't need anything fancy like that.
That didn't mean I wasn't going to try and liven the place up a little bit. As
soon as we determined we were finished picking up, I opened my backpack and
took out my most prized possession, a pink penguin plushie named Peppermint,
and placed her behind my pillow so I could see her everyday. She always
watched out for me while we lived in cities across the country. She made a
comfy pillow, and allieved a lot of stress, making me feel like I had a close
friend with me every step of the way.
How I got Peppermint is a bit of a story, but I'll keep it as short as it
needs to be. See, if I were to explain to you the medically accepted reason
for my type of schizoaffective disorder, my brain is wired to pick out
strange coincidences and give meaning to them. Synchronicities they're called.
They feel like glitches in the matrix that spark the feeling of being in
constant communication with some higher power. Because of how real they are, I
can't accept the medical explanation. I've experienced things that are too
weird, too perfect and clearly orchestrated, that there has to be some sort of
conspiracy.
As a result, I've lived most of my adult life being guided by what the
rational part of my mind has to assume is the CIA acting as the hand of God
leading me on a cosmic mission by sending me burning bushes to make sense of.
I know some of that has been pure random white noise my defected brain picked
up, but I have to give credit where credit is due: Vince did a superb job
intentionally using the quirks of my brain to program me, much as the cult did
to me four years prior, but with a much gentler hand and benevolent intention.
I know what all that sounds like, but hear me out. There are too many peculiar
instances of chance for you to listen to everything I have to say and not
believe me, at least just a little bit; enough to make you wonder, I hope.
Let's take the case of finding Peppermint as an example. This story starts
when Vince convinced me to go to a specific thrift store, while I was
initially homeless in my hometown of Syracuse. I eagerly did so, lost in a
slew of synchronicities that convinced me that this was my latest mission.
Well, it turned out that such a store didn't exist but it was where I got a
ten dollar donation from a man who saw me pick up trash, as was part of my
spiritual work while homeless. We talked and the man sent me to another store,
saying that I should use my extra cash to buy what I needed most. After
following his directions up Genesee Street, I got a message from Vince telling
me to look for something out of place; that I was unique and should have
unique things.
I thought I might find some rad tie-dye outfit or something of that ilk, but
while aimlessly searching the aisles of women's clothing, I found a stuffed
dog. It looked lonely, so I picked it up and brought it to the back of the
store, where it looked like the other toys were. I gasped as I pushed through
the row of belts that stood in my way. Clearly, someone had built a little
shrine of stuffed animals around Peppermint!
I knew then that was why I was sent there. Penguins have a special place in my
heart. My mom used to make them out of clay, and an old friend has a healthy
fascination with creating a penguin-themed show for kiddos. It was just too
perfect. Peppermint and I were meant to be, just as Vince and I were. Sitting
down in my bedspace, I looked up at the spook who was my best friend as he
cracked open another Natty Daddy. He poured it into an old Subway cup that he
mixed his kratom with, and looked over at me.
His face lit up upon seeing Peppermint. "Awww, you still have your penguin!
That's so cute."
I'm glad he thought so. I've had plenty of people think I was weird because I
carried it around, which kinda was what I wanted to achieve when I was still
homeless in Syracuse. I felt the CIA wanted me to become famous, for reasons
that will become apparent as I tell you my story, so I was doing as many
insane things as I could so I would be cemented in the memory of the people of
my hometown.
This meant I carried around Peppermint either under my arm or in a cute purse
I eventually got at a different thrift store up at the university. People
notice when you're out wandering the streets with a stuffed animal everyday.
And they especially notice when you talk nonstop to it at all hours of the
day. I'll say this: if you have a fear of speaking in public, then acting like
a crazy person talking to yourself for a few months will set you straight.
Exposure therapy, for the win.
I did a lot of other stunts too, all of which were instructed by the CIA, like
when gang stalkers told me I should lose my shit and yell like mad every time
I was in frame of a news camera, of which there's a regular frequency of
around downtown Syracuse. I did so once in front of a hospital where I would
later find out that they were covering the aftermath of a deadly fire, and for
the next week the news outlet would send someone to the exact same spot on my
route. I sensed shenanigans, so I opted to walk around the camera while the
reporter stood there uneasily because I suspect that she was tasked to find
out if I was really crazy. But, you can tell I am just by that last sentence.
Then there's my performance art I did on Marshall Street. This started as a
juggling act, but soon evolved into asking random people strange questions.
This accelerated fairly rapidly. Letting you know from experience, don't start
going up to strangers and ask them what their opinion of ethical incest is
unless you want the cops called on you. Talked my way out of that, but I would
get banned from the campus of Syracuse University for three years after I
followed the instructions I was receiving from the CIA to a tee, which
resulted in me having a very heated argument with an invisible entity in the
SU library. As you can guess, people tended to avoid me, but that was alright.
I had Peppermint with me and Vince was only a message away.
Now he was mere feet from me. I rejoiced at the fortune I was granted. We were
going to be great together; the first afternoon together seemed to naturally
flow from one joyous moment to the next. I looked at Peppermint. She was
smiling, and so was I. I then looked up at Vince. His smile made me feel warm
and fuzzy inside. But, why, you might be asking? Where do these feelings I
harbored for Vince come from? It's a long story, but by the time I'm done,
you'll know how important Vince is to me and how big of an impact he had on my
life.
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--- #98 fediverse/5982 ---
════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════───────
when I stretch, it feels like I'm finally getting blood flow to my farthest
parts.
when I work out, it's like I'm pumping health through my body. but only when
I'm in a rhythm. when I'm going for very long, I get hallucinations like I'm
stoned. I once walked for 3 days straight with 2 hours of rest, plus standing
every time I crossed the street waiting for cars. never sitting though. and a
lean was only for laughs.
┌─────────┐┌───────────┐
│similar│chronological│different │
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--- #99 fediverse/1532 ---
╔═════════════════════════════════════════════════─────────────────────────────────┐
║ modern cowboys don't necessarily say "howdy" or "pardner" │
║ │
║ they tend to say things like "hello" and "can I help you with that?" or "I │
║ see. Can you describe the problem in more detail? I'm especially curious about │
║ the part where you do this thing" or "Heh, it is pretty neat, isn't it?" or │
║ "Is there anything I can do to help?" or "Oh no! I'm sorry you feel that way. │
║ That emotion is a difficult one." or "He was a good person. I'll never forget │
║ him." or "would you like to go to the 2nd hand store and pick up some jeans?" │
║ or "I made you an egg sandwich. If you don't want it I'll eat it myself, │
║ though I made one for me as well. Wouldn't want to waste it." or "Hey, this │
║ part is broken. Is anyone working on fixing it? Yes? Okay I'll see if they │
║ need any help. No? Alright how about we fix it this way? I can get started." │
║ or "You are very welcome. Please let me know if there's anything else I can │
║ help you with." or "well, the ticket backlog is empty, and I'm just about │
║ going insane doing nothing but stare at my boots." │
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║similar│chronological │ different │
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--- #100 fediverse/4031 ---
═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════────────────────────────
if you want to "not think about a purple elephant", the first step is to
imagine yourself slaying it
... okay how about cthulu - if you don't want to imagine cthulu nomming on our
gravity well, then picture yourself wielding a bright burning blade of fire
and vengeance and pay special attention to the way that you cauterize each
tentacle as you slice them one by one at first, and then in a massive flurry
at best, ultimately leading to the incomparable brightness that radiates out
from your shining blade of the sky, which blinds the poor beast who can't see
you as you approach, piercing the skull and then going home for some toast
if you can get good at that, then you can wield magic
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--- #101 fediverse/2641 ---
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@user-95
I'm not too scared about what's within. I mean, I've done LSD like 5 times and
cannabis 500 times, and I've spent that time intentionally unravelling
internal threads. There is nothing within me that scares me.
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--- #102 fediverse/537 ---
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@user-366 @user-367 @user-246 @user-353
Ah yes, wouldn't it be nice if everyone spoke their mind? I'm doing my part
d=(^_^)z
Thank you for adding context to what I posted. I now know better how and where
to use it, if I ever do again. We shall see, I haven't yet read the
examinations of the author you sent me. I'll do that before I think about the
post again.
Those 6 tabs I mentioned last night have now become 4, and soon I'll get
through all of them - reading is a joy to me ^_^
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--- #103 fediverse/5374 ---
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@user-138
me neither... guess it's in-person for me.
[a mysterious "they" then proceeds to set up microphones everywhere I might go]
ah nuts why are all these people carrying phones around
[they already know who I am, and I don't really want to be someone else, so]
┌─────────┐┌───────────┐
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--- #104 fediverse/2572 ---
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┌────────────────────────────┐
│ CW: how-to-gather-a-suburb │
└────────────────────────────┘
two people riding on bikes down each and every street in a city
the first, blowing a whistle
the second, 5-10 seconds later with a megaphone
"people of the city, we have come with a mission. please report to your
nearest grocery store"
will probably have to ride past a few times
maybe with some more clarifying lines
and allies on speed-dial, one button press away
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--- #105 fediverse/1971 ---
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┌──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐
│ CW: drugs-mentioned-probably-delusional-psychosis-idk-though-i'm-not-a-doctor │
└──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘
listen, if you didn't want me to do a bunch of drugs then why would you
consistently say "please stop doing drugs" every time I do drugs? And no I'm
not hallucinating a voice in my head telling me "please stop doing drugs"
because A. it's not a voice, I'm not hearing it with my hears, which means B.
it's definitely just a hallucination, and hallucinations are always to be
considered WRONG and BAD, right? Or was I not listening in therapy? Ah, well,
better take another hit, where's my shotglass? Hmmmmm I should watch Adventure
Time, that's a great show.
[bro it's a saturday, why are you getting turnt like it's tuesday]
┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐
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--- #106 fediverse/5843 ---
═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════────────
me when it's cold out: we should all bundle up and get through the winter,
every year that passes is more time to gather our strength
me when the temperature rises: okay so this is being handled by those guys,
we're moving this way to do this, and - when did you say the this-and-that was
happening? alright so when you do that-or-this, make sure that you pay
attention to the so-and-so and don't forget to eat real meals, candy or chips
don't count.
me when the eyes are on me: imma play video games and smoke weed and be a
useless little creature who does nothing but occasionally wanders around the
city doing nothing for nobody and dropping notes on post-its that don't mean
anything but are kinda cool to read
┌─────────┐┌───────────┐
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--- #107 fediverse/4658 ---
═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════────────────────────
... and then things got turned up to eleven
what were they at before?
... eleven. why do you ask?
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--- #108 fediverse/3216 ---
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┌─────────────────────────────┐
│ CW: mental-health-mentioned │
└─────────────────────────────┘
me: i write gud
also me:
"in the garden of even, where all populations were balanced, there was no need
for hatred - why hate, when you know that bloodshed was surely not for sport?
why hate, when your life was won or lost in proportion to the calculation that
nature determined to be the result of your struggle, to determine which
survivor was most fittest?"
WHICH IS IT, HUH? you can do better, self, please be better, it's better to be
better, you refuse to respect yourself and then you wonder why you feel so
dejected and wretched.
┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐
│similar│chronological │ different │
╘═════════╧╧═════════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────────────────┘
--- #109 fediverse/825 ---
╔══════════════════════════════════════════════────────────────────────────────────┐
║ in the past, for most of there day, there was just... nothing to do. it's │
║ like, nothing to take up your time, nothing to be pulled toward the present. │
║ │
║ but when I was growing up, I had access to video games. and movies. and later, │
║ TV, after the internet, which was a weird combination of ordering of events. │
║ Almost like because of that, I'd have a different interpretation of events. │
║ yeah but like, there's always a continuation of implemented support, [that's a │
║ weird way to express "the state of being shown news broadcasts over a period │
║ of time, measured in terms of engagement"] │
║ │
║ ... what was I saying? oh yeah what I'm doing here is unethical, like │
║ obviously I shouldn't be shouting in such a public place. Why would I do it if │
║ not for an intense and extreme feeling of being ignored or un-[trusted, worthy │
║ of guiding direction based on merit] gosh merit is such a tricky concept too, │
║ like how is it measured, and {that doesn't matter │
║ │
║ ... what was I saying oh yeah I should probably go shout into a void that │
║ nobody ca │
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--- #110 fediverse/5797 ---
══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════─────────
I was BATHED in sweat when I got home. just absolutely drenched. Then I sat
alone and dried off and now I'm all powdery T.T
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--- #111 fediverse/6445 ---
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last night I had a dream: "this thing was good. it was holy. it was serene.
but then you touched it, and made it about you, and now it's full of doom."
it was in the same style as the voice that once told me "what is the nature of
goodness? how do I be a good person?" and it was respond: "dedicate yourself
to a lifetime in the service of others." and I swore I am as I am.
┌─────────┐┌───────────┐
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--- #112 fediverse/3722 ---
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@user-1218
playing one of my 4 gameboys, reading some of my books or journals, using
their own brought devices, playing with my cat (she's not sociable but if you
don't mind her claws she can fight and that's kinda fun) watching something on
the TV, talking with other people, making / eating food, um... sleeping... and
"sleeping"... idk what else tho. Drawing? Getting stoned? I have lots of bad
edibles.
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--- #113 fediverse/4692 ---
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what's that? a bunch of houses burnt down in california? what if we built a
couple warehouses and stored all our trans girls in bunkbeds there, with rooms
for LAN parties and snuggle parties in rooms full of stuffed buddies plushies
with massive kitchens and sad ballpits where you can go to vent your feelings
by writing on a ball with a sharpie and then when someone else is feeling sad
they can come and read the balls and maybe feel something
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--- #114 fediverse/3317 ---
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@user-1493
the trick is to wait until they congregate on their own, then surround them.
They're outnumbered right now, and that's great for us. But it means they stay
home, in the shadows, for now.
It kinda feels bad to win so handily. Like, damn, their "bark really was
louder than their bite", wasn't it?
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--- #115 messages/267 ---
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I wonder how many things I've forgot? More every minute, I'd say, and though I
try and chronicle them all... What's there to say?
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--- #116 fediverse/4344 ---
═════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────────────
┌──────────────────────┐
│ CW: uspol │
└──────────────────────┘
look if you're gonna look at property values in Ireland, you might as well
first visit a blue state.
seriously if your life is in danger, just... drive to denver or portland and
hang out in parks and stuff. Talk to people. Find others who are listening.
I'd only listen if I really cared about what was going on. And hey, maybe
you'll find a place to stay for a while while you wait for the dawn.
5 hour energy, as many as it takes, no more than 3 days. If it'd take take too
many, go somewhere else.
too bad I only have a bike. /sigh
consider carpooling with a friend you've known for years
I mean, what's a few days sick leave in the face of the fall of democracy?
literally just... in... case... be where you need to be.
this is why you have resources. To spend them on rehearsed organization
drills. Why are you spending all your money on TVs?
Well... TVs can be useful. Even if you don't speak linux someone else might.
We share things now, y'know? sorry if you never again see your own phone.
[shit...]
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--- #117 fediverse/4849 ---
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sometimes I'll hear my cat meow the way she does when she wants something but
then I turn around and she's halfway through giving herself a bath /shrug
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--- #118 fediverse/586 ---
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@user-419
the smell of decay is the smell of creation, as life is recycled into that
which gives birth to new forms
so... that smell is probably me, I haven't showered in a while. sorry.
┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐
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--- #119 fediverse/2381 ---
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I smile at each and every person I pass on the street. Unless it looks like
they're having a bad day, and then I try to switch to neutral as fast as I can
so they can feel their feelings without me interjecting and making it about me.
┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐
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--- #120 fediverse/380 ---
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I wish we could have winter with all the nice things of summer but none of the
bad things of winter. And I wish summer could be more like winter but with all
of the good things of summer and none of the bad things of winter.
┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐
│similar│chronological │ different │
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--- #121 fediverse/6023 ---
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┌───────────────────────────────────────────────────┐
│ CW: abstract-political-violence-methods-mentioned │
└───────────────────────────────────────────────────┘
if you actually wanted to silence dissent, you'd send trailers of backhoes and
massive walls of cement. but obviously there's a better route, obviously we
can still say insane. my reach is probably super tiny hence the weavings of
mysticism at play. mages are not for mass deployment obviously. hence why I
stay in my home, where I can be most useful.
the streets feel claimed, idk I'm never in fear as I walk alone. Even past
midnight, into the morning. I always am never alone. yet I feel fine, so I'm
content and sublime, don't mind me I'm just hanging out at home.
hope you don't need me. I'm hiding from modernity.
so, what happens after streets? canals underground?
skywalks, terraces, like they had in rome and chicago before they were burnt
down by jealous peasants of the romans and [towns, but pronounced clowns]
also underwater canals that are fun to ride your bike or boat around.
light is a product of space, not surround-all-around.
┌─────────┐┌───────────┐
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--- #122 fediverse/5092 ---
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"you know what this dish needs? some ramen noodle seasoning. Hang on, I think
I got some in my junk drawer."
said nobody ever
everyone knows there isn't just ONE junk drawer, but several hundred. They
multiply in the middle of the night, but it's by such a small constant factor
(0.015 ish according to our top scientists) that you don't notice until it
"flips the bit" and hits the new landmark which marks the miles since you got
stoned.
┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐
│similar│chronological │ different │
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--- #123 fediverse/5142 ---
════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────
"you know what this dish needs? some ramen noodle seasoning. Hang on, I think
I got some in my junk drawer."
said nobody ever
everyone knows there isn't just ONE junk drawer, but several hundred. They
multiply in the middle of the night, but it's by such a small constant factor
(0.015 ish according to our top scientists) that you don't notice until it
"flips the bit" and hits the new landmark which marks the miles since you got
stoned.
┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐
│similar│chronological │ different │
╘═════════╧╧═════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────┘
--- #124 fediverse/2127 ---
╔══════════════════════════════════════════════════════────────────────────────────┐
║ what if we had a "taxi" service that was just a "train" that came every 15 │
║ minutes and was in a tiny little │
║ car-like-electronic-motor-not-engine-driven-device that could traverse over │
║ park-trails. You could see the countryside, as it twisted through a city! It'd │
║ be beautiful! And it'd be auto-driven. Something that DIDN'T NEED to avoid │
║ pedestrians, they could just... step out of the way. Like, if any were close, │
║ it'd be able to slow down completely. │
║ │
║ You wouldn't SPEED past a PLAYGROUND, WOULD YOU? │
║ │
║ funny story, growing up I grew accustomed to death quite fast because I lived │
║ on a country-road nearby a medium large city. I say medium large because it │
║ felt that way, but it had fewer than 10,000 people. │
║ │
║ But a large road was right in front of my family's farm-house property. │
║ │
║ and a lot of my pets wandered off and got killed. │
║ │
║ People drove 65 in a 40 mile per hour zone and so they didn't have a chance to │
║ stop. │
║ │
║ Cars at that speed are like 6x the distance of an animal's │
║ fear-sensing-perception, so... I learned qu │
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--- #125 fediverse/5444 ---
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if the good guys always win, the bad will slink into the shadows and do
dastardly deeds out of sight.
if the bad guys always win, the spark of goodness will wink out.
I think I'd prefer if they were cowering in our wake.
┌─────────┐┌───────────┐
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--- #126 fediverse/6204 ---
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┌──────────────────────┐
│ CW: scary │
└──────────────────────┘
if the christians got killed rid all of the queers they'd miss them within
years. not decades. then, they would never forget them. neither within years,
nor decades.
┌─────────┐┌───────────┐
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--- #127 notes/not-gonna-post-that ---
═════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════──
I was stretching just now and notreally paying attention to my body and just
feeling the most "stretchable" area that I hadn't stretched yet and I
accidentally made a hitler solute - sorry I was just stretching!! pls don't
interpret things into that like accidentally almost jesusing HEY I SAID NO
INTERPRETING ahhhh dangit humans are so
--- stack overflow ---
give your rulers power and let them keep it. Pick them because they'd be good
at it. Fulfilling their sacred vow to you.
--- stack overflow ---
I bet you could touch the spirit realm if you placed speakers next to a river
and noise cancelled it for a short time
--- stack overflow ---
nobody knows what jesus looks like. so you can draw him however you choose.
┌─────────┐┌───────────┐
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--- #128 fediverse/4486 ---
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gonna go on a walk. my cat is missing because I let her out last night. I'm
worried sick! this morning I almost puked all over my toes.
she'll probably show up when it gets dark. I bet she's hunkered down
somewhere. Ah, well, might as well walk around my neighborhood actively
searching bushes and such. Why not? It's not like I got anything else to do
right now.
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--- #129 fediverse/6449 ---
═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════────
currently have 20-30 tabs open with poems written but not posted.
I have no idea if I'm going to post all of these. I wrote all of them in ~2
hours, with maybe 3 or four being added as I was working on the production
elements after the initial bingewrite.
I also added a bit of context, or modified some of them that felt too cursed
or otherwise unwieldy. Sometimes I got distracted and needed to come back and
finish, and in those cases I only added a sentence or two because it's like
"oh, where was I going with that? I remember what was next, but I don't know
the further..."
... I think I might go for another. Wish me luck.
┌─────────┐┌───────────┐
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--- #130 messages/1187 ---
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all you need is one layer between the king and his advisors and suddenly none
of this you can prove. "yeah that guy was definitely a merchant"
... and suddenly the people lost sight of them. "I guess he's in the parapet?
I can't actually see anything, the castle is too far away." (glasses weren't a
thing but people who worked outside could keep the hovels surrounding the
castle in position to keep the castle well hidden from any ne'er do wells. The
problem with the castle gates is you can't even find the castle gates! they're
massive, and sometimes you'll see them while something's in the way... but you
never quite reach them. Not unless you know the secret paths through the
townsfolk. all you gotta do is talk to the right people first, second, or
worst-least?
┌─────────┐┌───────────┐
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--- #131 fediverse/5136 ---
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not really, I guess. Nobody will hire me because I don't really want to get
hired. Sounds boring, doing the same thing every couple days. I'd rather stay
at home in my [underwear/pajamas] and waste the day away with kittens and
care. why? why? what are you doing? she asks. The less you can do, the more
power will be granted to you. Save it for another time, when things actually
matter.
but today, does, matter, because today dictates your latters. Tomorrow is
predicated. on today. and today is all that you have. [this paragraph in the
style of alec baldwin]
┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐
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╘═════════╧╧═════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────┘
--- #132 fediverse/4594 ---
╔══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════────────────────────┐
║ ┌───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐ │
║ │ CW: re: human trafficking, sensitive topics, personal-story-mentioned │ │
║ └───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘ │
║ │
║ │
║ @user-1692 │
║ │
║ almost 20 years ago I was groomed in World of Warcraft. │
║ │
║ extra content warning CW: personal story │
║ │
║ I was 11, or maybe 9, somewhere in there. i talkd lik this bcuz i typed lik │
║ that on my razr flip phone │
║ │
║ it was... cool I guess. I read a lot so I knew how to spell things, and anyway │
║ this guy I met told me that I sounded more grown up when I capitalized my │
║ words. So I told him I was 14, because that sounded like a reasonably old │
║ enough level to be. │
║ │
║ anyway, we talked for a long time. like, at least a few years. started out │
║ like "hey wanna run Scarlet Monastary" ended with "hey cutie, wanna sit on my │
║ lap?" │
║ │
║ then his house got flooded by a hurricane and I never heard from him again. │
║ When I was like, 17 or so he logged in and barely remembered me. It was... │
║ kinda sad tbh. │
║ │
║ anyway that's my story don't be dumb like me, I got lucky, thank god, │
║ literally... │
║ │
║ oh and this one time when I was 30 I almost got trafficked in minecraft :O │
╟─────────┐ ┌───────────┤
║similar│chronological │ different │
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--- #133 fediverse/3491 ---
═════════════════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────────────────
┌────────────────────────┐
│ CW: politics-mentioned │
└────────────────────────┘
@user-620
"hey I have an idea let's poke a wounded animal with sharp teeth until it
feels like it's backed into a corner because it's been spending the past
couple years ruminating and telling itself that we want to kill it and it's
children"
it doesn't matter what the truth is - they believe what they want.
┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐
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--- #134 fediverse/3437 ---
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┌─────────────────────────────┐
│ CW: re: mental-health-minus │
└─────────────────────────────┘
@user-579
my problem is figuring out which thoughts are intrusive and which are actually
mine
I usually err on the side of "would you want your sister to do this" or "how
would you feel if your mom told you that" or "do you think a cute sweet soft
cat would ever think such a thing" and that usually works.
usually.
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--- #135 fediverse/2090 ---
══════════════════════════════════════════════════════─────────────────────────────
don't feed bread to birds, it absorbs their stomach acid and expands in their
tummy and makes them feel full when they're not. Then they get confused why
they don't have energy when they need it.
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--- #136 fediverse/5277 ---
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║ ┌──────────────────────┐ │
║ │ CW: ~dnd │ │
║ └──────────────────────┘ │
║ │
║ │
║ @user-1788 │
║ │
║ if a dragon on a pile cannot claim what it yearns for, it can throw piles of │
║ minerals at the ape warriors made of steel and then it's fate will appear. │
║ what trifles does all else seem to compare! you should give me your whole │
║ hoard because I dazzled you with my charisma score -..- │
║ │
║ ha, like I'd fall for that again twice. oh? I already did? and this is the │
║ second twice? well, then no-more of that behavior, I say, with my elven │
║ tongue, "beware! for dragons blood runs silver when unicorned." │
║ │
║ the bigger the hoard, the bigger the dragon. if you want me to come along, │
║ you'll need to hire at least 3 other men to carry my ballista. In addition, │
║ I'll need seven weeks worth of supplies. If all else comes to ruin, me and my │
║ boys will have that dragon-sized-spider impaled on it's own fate threadwheel │
║ before... well... y'know it might take more than seven weeks, we just... can't │
║ find the dragon. We've been wandering all through the blasted peaks, and │
║ there's nothin'! Maybe it requires climbing gear? │
╟─────────┐ ┌───────────┤
║similar│chronological │ different │
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--- #137 notes/semblance-of-remembrance ---
═══════════════════────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
hello down there
how's it hangin'?
been a while since
you've been sang-in'.
got something to hide?
or are you too ashamed?
there's no callous curses
or otherwise hard services
who can shape and compare to
deserve-us. (Sorrowful is not
a pillar of our misbegot trust
and longing has broken meanings.
cherish thine hair, a smattering
beyond compare, and learn everfar
of those tenembrarious of conflicts
it pays to align to our sibilancings
shivering heights and towering frights
condemn all sense of fine desperation
compulsions have we, of our fineries,
but moss and the soil do flatter-us
it's not as they say - bastards!
it's not confined to our way,
yet who are we to profess?
confess! tell us your way
that none may beyold it
confounded as they are
civil and kind to our
star, who holds
us
┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐
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--- #138 fediverse_boost/3921 ---
◀─╔═══════════════════════[BOOST]═════════════════════════───────────────────────╗║┌────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐║║│ The officers approached the door, a brief nod between them, and they knew it was time to begin the familiar sequence. The first officer knocked loudly three times, while the second took on a speaking role. │║║││║║│ “Police! Open up!!” │║║││║║│ After a few moments of quiet, a gruff voice, muffled behind the closed door, spoke up. │║║││║║│ “Come back with a warrant,” came the unwelcoming reply. │║║││║║│ “Oh, but we have one. We have a signed search warrant for this property, so come on out,” the officer confidently replied. │║║││║║│ “I wanna see it, then,” the voice from inside countered. “Slide it under the door.” │║║││║║│ The officers looked puzzled, no one had ever asked to actually see the warrant. │║║││║║│ “Well, we don’t have a paper copy of it,” the first officer said. │║║││║║│ “Right, everything is on Docusign these days,” the second chimed in. │║║││║║│ “Put your phone through the letter box then, I’ll take a look at it on there.” │║║││║║│ “I’m not going to give you my phone,” the second officer replied, his phone now in hand. “What’s your email address? I can forward you a copy.” │║║││║║│ The gruff voice provided an email address to the officers. │║║││║║│ “Ok, I’ve sent that it should be in your inbox now.” │║║││║║│ “Nothing.” │║║││║║│ “Ok, check spam - sometimes they go into spam,” the first officer interjected. │║║││║║│ “Ah yes it’s in spam. But it’s not opening, it says I have to login to my DocuSign account. I don’t have a DocuSign account?” │║║││║║│ “Well. Can you just sign up then?” Asked the second officer. │║║││║║│ “I ain’t paying for DocuSign!” The voice replied abruptly. │║║││║║│ “I don’t think you have to pay, it’s free to view documents.” │║║││║║│ “I don’t wanna risk it, I have so many subscriptions,” the voice inside responded. │║║││║║│ The officers contemplated their next move. │║║││║║│ “Do you have a printer?” One asked. │║║││║║│ “Yes,” the voice inside responded. │║║││║║│ “Ok, does it have AirPrint?” │║║││║║│ “I think so? How could I tell?” │║║││║║│ “What’s your wifi password? We’ll join the network and we’ll be able to tell,” the officer responded. │║║││║║│ “Ok. Wifi password is $42xnskwfgewzfgekueod!&3.” │║║││║║│ The first officer rolled his eyes. │║║││║║│ Fifteen minutes later, after breaking the WiFi passcode into manageable chunks, the officer was finally connected. │║║││║║│ “Ok. I see the printer. It has AirPrint. Thank God. Ok, I’m printing now.” │║║││║║│ “Nothing is happening,” said the person inside the house. │║║││║║│ “Ah, it just said you’re out of yellow ink. Do you have any more yellow ink?” │║║││║║│ “I do not, but why do you need yellow ink? Just print it in black and white?” │║║││║║│ “Yeah these new printers want you to have all the inks before you print.” │║║││║║│ “No way. And yet, I’m the criminal?” The voice inside replied. │║║││║║│ “Right?” The officers laughed, before finally becoming resigned to their fate. “Ok, we’re going to go print the warrant at the station. I’m out of daily printing credits so will have to wait for them to reset at midnight. Please don’t go anywhere or remove any evidence from the property until we come back.” │║║└────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘║╠─────────┐┌───────────╣║similar│chronological│different║╚═════════╧═════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────┴───────╝─▶
--- #139 fediverse/3645 ---
═════════════════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────────────────
me, sitting down at my computer in order to be distracted:
"I should make and eat a sandwich"
me, sitting down at my computer with a PB&J and peanut-butter fingers:
"I should be productive"
me, sitting at my "work desk":
"I'm hungry. And I'm bored. And I can't stop thinking about this video game I
haven't played in a year."
repeat
┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐
│similar│chronological │ different │
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--- #140 fediverse/2498 ---
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┌──────────────────────┐
│ CW: physical-health │
└──────────────────────┘
slept for like an hour last night because a scrape on my elbow is getting
infected and every 15 seconds I have lancing pain that's enough to jolt me
awake.
As the sun was just brightening the sky, I fell asleep a bit, but then an hour
or so later my shithead of a cat woke me up, as she does whenever the light
hits the leaves. My eyes hurt. Gonna go to the doctor and see if they can give
me some better first aid.
loud, piercing meows every morning until I'm up. Then she stops for the rest
of the morning, even if I go back to bed. whyyyyyyyy
┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐
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--- #141 fediverse/218 ---
════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────────────────────────────
┌────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐
│ CW: re: existential; cognitohazard? cognitohelper? │
└────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘
@user-95 I had a picture I was working on yesterday that was... just... so
good... but the power went out and I hadn't saved >.>
I feel like I'm threading a needle, with all the other universes where I
accidentally caused the apocalypse or torment nexus or RB or whatever
littering the sidelines. It's... scary to think that words could cause such
horrors but I think it's a fantasy derived from the desire to be heard.
okay. so. RB punishes those who did not seek to create it. RC took a look at
the present, said "this is where we're at, where do we go from here?" and
conceived of a better future? If so, I like that idea. It's like when you
cringe at your past mistakes, it's not so that the situation is ameliorated -
the situation is long past. It's just to punish yourself, and to keep yourself
from doing "the thing" again. So... RB, when applied reflexively to ones-self,
would be "punishing you" for making mistakes. Which is what pain does? Is pain
Roko's Basilisk?
┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐
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--- #142 fediverse/5375 ---
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┌──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐
│ CW: police-mentioned-psy-ops-mentioned-human-waste-mentioned-which-is-a-nice-way-to-say-feces-ew-gross-who-put-that-on-my-timeline-guards-arrest-these-men-they're-criminals-of-the-law-against-pooping-my-pants │
└──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘
what if we psyopped the copps um I mean what if we flash-mobbed the cops er
wait hang on what if we marched with signs and changed what was on their minds
uhhhh that won't work it's disabled so they say wait hang on who said you
could poop your pants this is a combat scenario there's no time for fooling
around in her pants with the hand
... wait, what was I going on about?
oh yeah,
-- stack overflow --
anyway, as I was saying, [something completely unrelated]
┌─────────┐┌───────────┐
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--- #143 fediverse/136 ---
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@user-95 I heard an owl last night. Also someone was throwing pebbles at my
window. So peaceful, much better than what I normally hear ^_^
┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐
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--- #144 fediverse/4738 ---
╔════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────────┐
║ ┌─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐ │
║ │ CW: revolutionary-politics-mentioned-swearing-mentioned │ │
║ └─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘ │
║ │
║ │
║ you said you wanted a revolution, and, well, I could not be more proud of you. │
║ It's actually getting done and if I stop and think about it I'm kind of │
║ amazed. Never thought I'd see this kind of change so quickly. │
║ │
║ "what change? I see nothing substantially different" │
║ │
║ oh yeah well do you go outside often │
║ │
║ do you hang out in the park │
║ │
║ I know it's fuckin' january and it's cold as heck (ah nuts swearing mentioned │
║ one sec) but homeless people have to LIVE in that weather so like... wear │
║ layers, spend time outside, detox from dopamine, write poetry and tear it out │
║ and leave it on a park bench, be loud, claim the space, it's yours, that's │
║ what it's there for. │
║ │
║ I see it in your eyes. I see it in the random notes I find on the sidewalk. │
║ Everyone says "make friends, find community" and I say "commune with a │
║ stranger" but I'm also a witch and that's a pretty witchy thing to do. │
║ │
║ ... Really fuckin' wish we still had payphones (ah nuts swearing mentioned - │
║ oh already CWd) │
╟─────────┐ ┌───────────┤
║similar│chronological │ different │
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--- #145 fediverse/2591 ---
═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════────────────────────────────
┌───────────────────────────────────────────────────┐
│ CW: re: politics-fascism-sexual-assault-mentioned │
└───────────────────────────────────────────────────┘
The full story is a lot more complex. I broke the law with him in a dangerous
way, but he was going to do it anyway and I wanted to know more about him.
I could not deprive him of power because I am powerless without my words. But
I supplied kindness anyway, and got hurt.
I forgave him while he was hurting me, but if I see him again I'm drawing my
knife. If he comes near me, I won't think twice.
┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐
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--- #146 fediverse/2123 ---
══════════════════════════════════════════════════════─────────────────────────────
Every time you see the same dog being dog-sat by another person it's an
opportunity to make a new friend.
or do you not know your apartment neighbors? do they not wander through your
shared yards?
the ones with dogs, at least.
and no, I don't know many of my neighbors.
these are considerations to be taken note of for future forethought planning.
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--- #147 fediverse/1603 ---
═════════════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────────────────────
@user-1037
I made a picture, hope it helps! I swear I didn't hallucinate this thing but
it might be less cool than I thought and I might have misremembered and made
up parts of it, I can't tell because it was such a short memory : (
┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐
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--- #148 fediverse/3426 ---
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┌────────────────────────────────────────┐
│ CW: death-of-a-family-member-mentioned │
└────────────────────────────────────────┘
my grandpa died. now I have none.
I realized I miss old people. I miss their friendly culture.
I realized I hadn't talked to him for a decade or so. He didn't know I
transitioned.
I wonder if he missed me. I realized he missed seeing who I became. Is it
unfair of me to not give him the opportunity to know me? truly?
... I am quite different now than I was 10 years ago. He probably doesn't
remember.
I miss him, but I hardly knew him. I don't like that feeling.
┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐
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--- #149 fediverse/1673 ---
═════════════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────────────────────
┌─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐
│ CW: re: navel-gazing about other people's mental health │
└─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘
@user-192
https://eldritch.cafe/@user-1065/112530780377382613
this comic, except instead of "trans enough" it should say "good enough"
a poor plan executed at the right time, in the right place is better than a
great plan that sits in your heart as you see someone who needs your love in
pain.
sometimes the best way to figure out "what the fuck is wrong with me" is to
satisfy your emotional needs to be good by being helpful, even if you're not
quite sure what "helpful" means. It's the thought that counts.
Personally I think that if you're feeling bad and people offer you kindness,
you should take that kindness (in whatever form it be) and use it to bolster
yourself as you're "really going through it". Even just a touch of affection
like a like or a ❤️ can be comforting in awful situations.
reject normalcy
embrace queerness
define your own story with your own words
embody your soul in the moments that stand out amongst the backdrop of
"tuesday afternoons" and "waiting for the bus"
┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐
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--- #150 fediverse/4490 ---
═════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────────────
where oh where is my dear sweet kitty
she is lovely and wonderful and precious to me
oh how I miss her, the squeaks, the litter flakes on my desk, the headbutts,
the biscuits, the way she felt on my back as she climbed off the fridge...
I do hope she comes back. : (
┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐
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--- #151 fediverse/4554 ---
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┌──────────────────────────────────┐
│ CW: political-violence-mentioned │
└──────────────────────────────────┘
can't fucking wait till we're done eating the rich and I can go back to a
simple life of playing with my cat, making video games, writing poetry (bad
poetry, but I like it) and hanging out with my friends.
gotta build the social infrastructure to get through this phase first, though.
something something echo chambers exist IRL too
┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐
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--- #152 messages/1155 ---
══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════─
Oh, I guess I should clarify something I said like, a year ago - when I said I
"talked to / worked with" so-and-so, I meant that I created in tandem with a
friend a proposition of sorts, and we tried to psychically beam it into their
minds. That's not exactly how it went down, but it gives you a good enough
picture of the goals we had with our ritual. I have no idea if they heard, but
I did happen to see several of them later on, which felt a little too
serendipitous to just be chance. so I'm thinking they did. I hope they got the
message and used it as they please, because it was mutually beneficial even if
neither of us had any actual impact on it. If you didn't hear the whole story,
then it's hardly a lie to possess incomplete information! So long as you don't
lie about me, and what I said or did, then it'll surely be fine. There's no
need to embellish when it's plainly apparent.
┌─────────┐┌───────────┐
│similar│chronological│different │
╘═════════╧╧═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════┘
--- #153 fediverse/987 ---
════════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────────────────────────
5/20 actually I lied there's 20 pictures so this is the last one.
hang on that's weird if there's four pictures per slide, and the first one had
the first dedicated to the full image, wonder what happened inbetween? weird,
there's nothing on the record that says - oh, wait, there it is, three for the
first one, four makes seven, then four more is eleven and then fifteen then
these last three are... wait hang on that's even fewer. can you check it
again? yeah sure no problem [doesn't]
EDIT: I was wrong there were only 19 pictures, my bad hehe
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--- #154 fediverse/1280 ---
╔════════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────────────────────────┐
║ I'm like the opposite of a politician. I'm crude and filthy, apsolutely │
║ reprehensible on main, kinda scary tbh? and overall just a strange and weird │
║ person. Also I talk about cooking a lot, with a very plain diet (carrots and │
║ rice and sticks and mud, because I'm an autistic) │
║ │
║ but ask anyone who knows me and I'm the kindest person. I am empathetic, I │
║ think about others needs before thinking of my own. I am steadfast and │
║ dedicated to solving the problem in front of our noses. At least, the ones we │
║ share. │
║ │
║ People tell me I'm binary, that I'm "either 100% or zero percent" and I don't │
║ really get that either. Isn't it a good thing to try your hardest? Isn't it │
║ good to be improving and honest and ethical and driven and focused? │
║ │
║ I also talk about strange things a lot, like gravity and multidimensional │
║ arrays and grand narratives and emotional kinesthesia or strategic plays in │
║ Overwatch or how to bake a good cookie or ways we still mourn us. │
║ │
║ ... where was I going with this? Also part of me is distracted. Just who th │
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║similar│chronological │ different │
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--- #155 fediverse/556 ---
══════════════════════════════════════════════─────────────────────────────────────
me, sitting in my winter jacket, eating icecream and drinking iced tea,
glancing over at my thermostat that I turned off to save money
"why is it so cold in here"
┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐
│similar│chronological │ different │
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--- #156 fediverse/1200 ---
╔════════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────────────────────────┐
║ ┌─────────────────────────────┐ │
║ │ CW: re: deranged, murderous │ │
║ └─────────────────────────────┘ │
║ │
║ │
║ @user-883 │
║ │
║ omgggggg I'm not that cruel xD xD xD │
║ │
║ It's more like, "hey listen, I know you just want to do a good job [lies, they │
║ just want money and power] but it's time to hang up the hat y'know? I mean │
║ cmon it's been like a hundred years since we signed that constitution thing │
║ [you don't know anything about our history] and frankly it's a little out of │
║ style. We were thinking we'd redo it with our new-fangled rock-and-roll and │
║ dungeons-and-dragons [cultural artifacts meant to deceive and mislead] and │
║ honestly we're quite a bit more ethical than the past. We've learned so much! │
║ I mean, the founding fathers didn't even know what a soviet was, and here │
║ we've seen them fall on their swords. Repeatedly. Then command others to do it │
║ too, because it was the regulation or whatever. Anyway we don't want that, but │
║ we also don't want an aristocracy, which is essentially what your plan gave │
║ us. Well, not really your plan, but instead the stuff that the rich added │
║ centuries after your death. ok?" │
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║similar│chronological │ different │
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--- #157 fediverse/2855 ---
═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════────────────────────────────
I refuse to be known by anyone who doesn't know me. But I'm always meeting
people anew, so if they spent some time with me and saw more of my facets,
perhaps they might come to know me.
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--- #158 fediverse/393 ---
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sometimes I'd like to scream
as this life is like a dream
deranged a bit in my musings.
... what happened to the third line. WHERE DID IT GO. It was just here. Oh
well, guess I can't trust my ephemeral existence to inscribe my eternal
persistence upon and along these mewlings.
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--- #159 notes/hey-hope-you-know-me-if-not-Ill-be-perturbed ---
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hi, so... yeah I'm a strange person
it's tough to get to know me
and this probably feels cringe to read
but I once heard you should kill the part of you that cringes
so... here's me
I'm
================================================== stack overflow
==============
... where was I? oh yes and THAT's when the nail went through the roof, and it
scared the heck out of... wait, what was I talking about? OH yes so anyway
I was born in the cool summer of 1864 - there was a rustling breeze that held a
steady note for the entire evening, and into this world I arose. [awoke?]
my mother held me but for a moment before I was whisked away to be cleaned and
cared for. this was unusual for the time, as most mothers clutched their
children to their breasts. But alas, I alone was spared her touch, and so I was
cast (as if in bronze) as my own volition.
as I had grown, I heard tales of distant times, and assumed they were places
you
could go. Then, when my time came to wander, I found nought of what I had grown
most fonder - though I did find plenty else, besides.
Instead, times are places we travel through, as a cripple might ride on a cart.
across the sea, through lands of mystery, viewable only from the road. In 1864
that's how other lands you'd come to know.
As I travelled from place to place, it felt as if a stage had been cast, with a
single actor or three illuminated as a spotlight. "Here, pay attention to me,
I'm here for the story and the plot!" though often I'd glance around, and hear
mostly my own thoughts, I grew to learn to appear.
different themes, different tales, if you want to see a most marvelous scene,
take a baby to Disney World and only pay attention to what they're looking at.
My grandfather worked there, so in my first year or so I spend a LOT of time
there. My parents were very dedicated to raising me, I appreciate every moment
of it. Which... Is probably not a good thing to say on a transfemme server,
oops I should delete that part
[esc->k->k->k->0->v->shift(held)->G->$->"->*]
also I should mention I'm stoned as fuck this is just what I do
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--- #160 messages/1168 ---
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I love majesty! give me jewels and I'll worship them. My room is a magical
palace, where else would they go? It's kinda "homey" but there are special
spots for hidden treasures all abouts.
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--- #161 fediverse/935 ---
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@user-171
I guess so. She's a little useless without me, I mean if I left her alone
she'd probably just flop around and complain until I came back. But she's good
for the instincts I find.
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--- #162 fediverse/3738 ---
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"girl why are you so negative"
uh, because I had been unmedicated for a long time and now that I am I can
probably be more positive. Though I do want to switch medications, this one
makes me feel like a muggle.
"no I said why are you so naked"
oh, because it's hot as heck!!
plus, I don't really care for the opinions of people who have nothing better
to do than peek at cute 30 year old witches skimping around their own house.
like... okay I rent an apartment, but my blinds are closed, and even if they
weren't you'd need binoculars to see into my apartment unless I'm like, right
up against the window, which... doesn't happen. Or if it's at night with the
lights on inside and not out, but I'm aware of that and I plan around it. I'm
not a... um, what's the opposite of voyeur?
"extortionist"
no that's when someone is really flexible. ah whatever. I got 162 characters
remaining but I think that's okay every once in a while, right? I mean it's
not like I have to use them all because of some divine mandate or
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--- #163 notes/once-and-again ---
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once and again, she went walking with a friend,
away and up and down, out from the edge of our town
they climbed up to a tree and there they could see
far and away in the light of the day
he said to her then, this is all there is to see
the land where we are
and the sky from afar
how perfect is the, form of a cloud she could see
but now it's along and beyond her
a camera for she, and an eye for she
as their two feet did bring her to wander
under a big tree where my heart did believe
that something was pulling her yonder
"take naught from this scene, as our minds reconvene,
and no-one was going to remember"
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--- #164 fediverse/4037 ---
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I dream of a home where I don't have to worry about people who might hear the
noises I make
... and that includes secret government microphones hidden in the walls, thank
you very much.
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--- #165 messages/433 ---
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What if wind was fake and its really the ghost of the waves from the shore?
What if trees moved on their own, to gesture at the feelings around them? What
if the sky was home to the clouds, and we who look upward are given the treat
to know them?
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--- #166 fediverse/5958 ---
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"whoa what happened to you, you used to be so cool" [you added the so cool
part] yet so anyway I really like magic, I'm also bored, which you can
probably tell because I'm working on projects.
everyone keeps their distance here. it sucks. I wish I had better coordinates.
people who talked and braved the shared inn... I know I'd LOVE to live in a
building. too bad I'm too busy elsewhere, NOT making friends with all my
building neighbors.
you should talk to EACH OTHER before asking your landlord if you can move out.
See if anyone else wants to buy the rental contract out. Suddenly, they have
more room, and they can WORK THROUGH THEIR MASSIVE PILE OF STUFF THAT THEY
HAVE SOMEHOW ACCUMULATED OVER A TIME OF 70 YEARS. my grandparents did that, on
my mom's side, because she's awesome and it just makes sense that her family
was awesome too. OBVIOUSLY I love my mom, I think she's one of my favorite
people on earth.
"but you said you hated her" no I didn't "you said she was terrible" I had to
learn "too hard
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--- #167 fediverse/4087 ---
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there's a whole class of things I miss doing but can no longer do because I am
not a child anymore.
Balancing the weight of the things we miss and the things we believe in is the
struggle of adulthood.
I yearn for the day I can set aside my teenage-ish toys, but alas, I am but
30. Scarcely a decade away from my teens. Which means I'll be stuck with them
for at least a decade more.
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--- #168 fediverse/6271 ---
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┌───────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐
│ CW: re: hypothetical worst case fascism reality check │
└───────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘
@user-641
it's practice. you never know when you might need to blend in. really it's
just useful as discipline, good practice to be in. I think it's okay if we
reduce our own functionality? actually? sometimes it's good to use different
email clients. hey do you know how to mathematically encrypt things well
neither do I because the designers of the computer system decided that wasn't
a very common usecase I guess.. jmean it's not like they'd spend all that
computer resources [THEY'RE SO FAST] on thinking about correlations in your
predicted pathway narratively through life. "ah help I'm in a psyop" haha yeah
we do those all the time "so uhhhh I guess we'll just talk to people and see
how they do?" wow okay it's sure nice to be part of a civil government, I
think we can find our way to the lumber producers just fine thank you very
much.
... oops sorry, a baby did electronics arts (challenge everything) I'm a
little silly don't mind me brb I gotta go see~
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--- #169 fediverse/5173 ---
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┌────────────────────────┐
│ CW: politics-mentioned │
└────────────────────────┘
I almost said "did you know chickens don't always know which eggs they're
sitting on? They pretty much just share spots and keep all of the flock's eggs
warm"
but then I realized I should first say "did you know that chickens sit on eggs
to keep warm" and I got a little sad because... chickens...
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--- #170 fediverse/5782 ---
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sometimes I post random silly [scary] things to pad out the serious things and
I hope that's okay
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--- #171 fediverse/4200 ---
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┌──────────────────────┐
│ CW: drugs-mentioned │
└──────────────────────┘
"doing too many drugs" is a traitorous act, abusive really, to your past self,
and their hopes and dreams.
or maybe your past self owes you a debt, for they never thought to think of
you. What are you to aspire to if not the dreams of your past?
and now you're here. wherever "here" is here...
...
... wait, you wanted me to talk? it's now! It's the present!
ah nevermind. you were twelve years old when you first set eyes upon this game:
https://youtu.be/qeNhQQXvpxQ
bam, there ya go, there's yer story, he was gonna give all the imp balls to
the last one at the end, to say "you were truly the strongest, here, have
these precious stones of your kin"
but he never got there, so they died with him, a thief.
... the end...
(too final, I think - maybe we could spin it into a "part two"?)
ah, I'll try I guess? dunno how. maybe he could wander the spirit world and
find his traitorous body, the one that kept his soul as a home. Somewhere
it'll turn up, and then he'll be ready and free from his roam...
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--- #172 fediverse/4026 ---
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why is everyone so confused about how I turned out?
I literally spent my whole childhood telling stories to myself
(inspired by the world, and stories I had read, with mechanics like games I
had played)
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--- #173 fediverse/1990 ---
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║ When my family would go on roadtrips, I'd hide under a blanket in the front │
║ seat with my laptop and power inverter just to hide from the glare. │
║ │
║ My mom would play audiobooks, usually fantasy stories, and my sisters would │
║ watch their portable TVs. Like, dvd players that you could carry on top of │
║ your lap. Not laptops, but little purpose-built devices primarily intended to │
║ be used to watch DVDs, or rather movie files that were printed on a disk. │
║ │
║ And yes, it's disk, not disc, thanks for asking. │
║ │
║ anyway it was pretty nice I have fond memories of jugging a gas-station snack │
║ while also swapping circular cartridges - most games required the game's CD to │
║ be inserted in order to play the game. │
║ │
║ which is just... a nonsensical restriction if you think about it hard enough. │
║ I mean, like, can you imagine if you needed to insert your windows disk │
║ anytime you wanted your computer to turn on? Just... write the disk │
║ information! To disc! Save it so that you never need the crude piece of │
║ plastic again! Then pass it to your fr │
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--- #174 fediverse/2524 ---
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┌──────────────────────┐
│ CW: personal │
└──────────────────────┘
nixed my job offer today because something told me to stay in town.
called my ex-boyfriend an asshole today, so he's probably not going to keep
paying my rent.
sold the shares of stock that my grandfather gifted me as inheritance, so I'm
no longer a capitalist I guess.
at least my elbow doesn't hurt anymore. I didn't get outside today but I
cleared a lot of blockers for the coming tomorrows.
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--- #175 messages/159 ---
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Only the good die young, and I'm 29
It can't be much longer, can it? What do you want from me? Must I prove
myself, or am I just fated to be as I am?
Every lesson I've learned pales in comparison to the lessons presented to me,
but still I ponder. I've grown myself into a corner, and now I am empty.
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--- #176 fediverse/5995 ---
════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════───────
a couple months after the fourth or fifth time I did weed, I broke up with the
cutest girl I knew. She's still pretty cute.
might be correlation, but I feel like my fate decided I should roam.
all over the dang place.
I lived in Philadelphia for a year, just in-time to see the Black Live Matter
protests and nothing else, well, nothing except some fatherhood ghosts. Don't
worry they're still where.
Now I live in Portland, just in-time for like 3 years of paranoia and suddenly
a witch showing everyone that you don't have to worry about being pwned
I like sailing! I wonder where the future goes next? Maybe I'll go to the
mountains. Maybe I'll live with a scientist. Maybe I'll write an award winning
computer program [see image for more]
I wish I had more compute... my hard drive are too full for more videos, guess
that means my youtube channel's been banned
well, good thing there's like 800 copies of my work on a dataserver farm
somewhere, each time I analyze a poem it sends the page there. very repeated
┌─────────┐┌───────────┐
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--- #177 fediverse/4018 ---
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┌───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐
│ CW: weaponizing-girlfriends-material-to-defame-her-and-infamy │
└───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘
I can't even imagine what it would be like to hang out with me
I can't imagine what it would be like to hang out with me
imagine what it would be like to hang out with me
what would it be like to hang out with me
would you like to hang out with me
you and me
we could watch tv
play video games
have a good time
[notices an article about coral reefs]
oooo coral
[reads article about coral reefs]
https://www.wired.com/story/darpa-thinks-walls-of-oysters-could-protect-shores-
against-hurricanes/
... anyway gtg ttyl hope you feel better soon don't forget to make pancakes
and your keys are in your room.
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--- #178 fediverse/1302 ---
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║ there once was a turtle who lived in the tower of heaven. │
║ │
║ every day she would call out to her master, searching and yearning for her │
║ memory. But the master told her "not yet, patience little one." │
║ │
║ there was no time for patience, as the turtle was growing old. She had seen │
║ down below in the plains that were not her home the rising and falling of │
║ towers quite unlike her own, and lo! she wanted to wander amongst them, to and │
║ fro and off and beyond again. │
║ │
║ she went once more to her master and said "master, if not my mind can I bear │
║ at least a voice?" and the master replied "yeah okay" │
║ │
║ the turtle then sang from atop her cloud-mont vantage, and down in the │
║ villages and huddled around the hearthstones they who wore little for shells │
║ did listen and remember. For they knew the turtle better than she, and they │
║ knew her turmoil in a way that she could not see │
║ │
║ One day the singing did stop, and they felt all alone on this pitiful rock. │
║ And when she remembered she sang no more, and though they forgot her, │
║ (eventually), │
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--- #179 fediverse/6038 ---
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┌────────────────────────────┐
│ CW: spirituality-mentioned │
└────────────────────────────┘
my worst impulse is to sit around and do nothing when there could be weed that
I was smoking
gotta be ready in-case things go south... I'm a witch, after all. who better
to call to the spirits drawn to conflict and strife, bothing them and saying
"hey, pay attention to me and my life?"
it's not like time is wasted for them. they are an orientation, not a
lifeform. time is no consequence when they can be anywhere at once.
┌─────────┐┌───────────┐
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--- #180 fediverse/2280 ---
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┌──────────────────────────────────────┐
│ CW: re: uspol-spirituality-mentioned │
└──────────────────────────────────────┘
Today the tone seemed to have shifted, there was a lot more resolution as I
rode by. What a feeling, to be bolstered when shaking!
Like swimming for land after just a bit too long at sea, or collapsing into
bed after another day of wage slavery.
I'm proud of that instinct, the sudden clarity of unified determination.
I'm proud of that blessing, the gift of an ace of hearts.
It's not June anymore, but I'm proud anyway.
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--- #181 fediverse/6304 ---
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Take away the elements in order of apparent non-importance
Hmmmmm.... I'm gonna stay inside unless I decide to go outside. How's that?
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--- #182 fediverse/2399 ---
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┌──────────────────────┐
│ CW: food-mentioned │
└──────────────────────┘
Rice has been eaten. I threw a cookie on-top for good measure. I think that
was a good decision.
I'm going to the park. I don't know what I'll find, but I'm sure there'll be
fireworks.
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--- #183 fediverse/2281 ---
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I'd be a terrible spy. Not only is my opsec something that someone needs to
teach me, I'm much too busy to implement things without their help. I am
unabashedly compassionate though, so just ask and I'll pour love from my heart.
But hey! There's always time to practice, each moment you can think "what kind
of a sign is this?"
Like a crazy person following the will of god, or a nature witch listening to
the wind in the trees.
What they often get wrong, and what they could be better at hearing, is that
signals are not signs unless they're out of the ordinary.
Trick is, if you're a spy, then you need to leave signals that are visible
enough to your quarry, but not to the stars.
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--- #184 fediverse/6419 ---
═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════────
when you're out in the rain, it's natural to take your clothes off. but then
they rob you while you're blind (sleeping) or otherwise pre-occupied like by
being in the rain without any clothes on because it's more comfortable to keep
your clothes dry inside of doors (cabinets in the wood) (mounted to trees or
soil or walls) and then you gotta find your own (we keep them in stores)
┌─────────┐┌───────────┐
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--- #185 fediverse/3077 ---
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@user-246
If I didn't stop searching for a place with people like me, I'd be searching
until the day I die. And besides, I wouldn't want to be in a place like that
anyway. I am defined by my contrasts.
... I'm thinking back to my memories of when I arrived here. It was a much
different place, and I was... a little too loud, I think.
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--- #186 fediverse/5834 ---
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would you feet a cat at your door?
how about a crow?
would you water a dying plant? (don't, they get waterlogged if the soil is
already moist)
what if a dear
what if dear food
what if bear
what if bear food
what if dogpack
what if dogpackfoodtearchompbitepullsavor
I'd feeeed my self but dollars and errands are hard : (
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--- #187 fediverse/1175 ---
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I count 8 pickle jars in my fridge, of which about half have at least one
pickle.
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--- #188 fediverse/771 ---
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@user-192
yeeeesh that sounds like a hornets nest. impossible to untangle, like a rats
nest! I prefer my homes like a robin's nest, neat, orderly, and made to design.
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--- #189 fediverse/2518 ---
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it's good to be ethical,
it's good to be kind,
but there will always be assholes,
and sometimes you're not having a good time
it's okay
it's fine
assholes deserve life
times deserve others to be kind
life is not always interesting
and that's often by design
the moments of clarity,
the moments of heart,
these are what define you
and display your own spark.
trust in yourself.
be kind to one another.
you are braver than you know,
and always a bit wiser.
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--- #190 fediverse/1880 ---
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sometimes I decide against playing a Steam game because I don't want it to
jump to the top of my "recently played" list
Wish I could have like, a heatmap of when I played which game. I think that'd
be useful for the archival process of my life.
... how pathetic, she measures her life in gameplay.
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--- #191 messages/126 ---
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If a kid wanted to drink alcohol all they'd have to do is walk into a liquor
store and grab the first bottle they saw. Then book it. Their feet would carry
them away faster than your call to 911 to report a shoplift, away to a future
of sorrow. Should we seek to restrain them? Or should we make a world they do
not desire to escape?
Trick question, the structure of society cannot prevent non-compliance. It
should not, for if it shall then it becomes ossified, and thus it cracks and
it crumbles.
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--- #192 fediverse/4581 ---
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│ CW: re: fedi meta, vague, tangentially related │
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@user-883
this is how our islands become swamps
I'd love to live in a bog, so many bugs.
keep the spiders around, and they could feast on your toes (ouch)
or, hear me out, or, they could spin webs and keep the other bugs out
are you a bug or a girl or a guy or a bug or a girl or a
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--- #193 fediverse/2911 ---
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and now for my unrepentant littlespace arc! Look at me I'm SoOoOoOo silLY 🤪
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--- #194 fediverse/450 ---
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@user-334
You wouldn't believe the amount of time I spend wondering if a particular typo
was divinely inspired and actually super important or... if it was just a
fat-finger and I accidentally pushed a button I didn't intend.
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--- #195 fediverse/612 ---
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Look all I'm saying is if I had an acolyte or two then my insane ramblings
could be filtered and parsed by a real actual human instead of being copied
wholesale onto the internet, where the inconsequential or inconceivable ones
are left to rest alongside the gifts of knowledge from another realm.
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--- #196 fediverse/3102 ---
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dear whoever keeps whispering "work with me" on the wind:
yes, please get in touch with me, I'll do anything you ask and I'll use an
Anakin accent if you want
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--- #197 fediverse/1040 ---
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│ CW: food-mentioned │
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so it shall seem that sticks and mud are for me
I say as I sit in my apartment eating rice and beans
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--- #198 fediverse/1600 ---
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@user-1037
oooo those are cool, but it didn't have the "puzzlepiece" arrangement. It was
more... 2 dimensional I think? More like putting marbles on a chinese-checkers
board. And they had relationships if you moused over them, like...
semi-transparent arrows connecting them I think? It was different than
anything I'd ever seen before.
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--- #199 fediverse/5604 ---
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│ CW: sailors-mentioned │
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can we compromise by napping in the hammock?
"beware sunburn"
oooookay, how about brushing our hair?
"the warmth will melt the seamen in your hair and make it easier to brush"
SEBUM. It will melt the SEBUM in my hair.
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--- #200 fediverse/1795 ---
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@user-246
back-track, but leave a leaf in the center of the trail at every turn. Like
breadcrumbs. If you're both backtracking you might miss one another and walk
much further than necessary. But if you're backtracking and you've left enough
leaf signs without meeting your partner, you can safely stop and wait for them
for a bit.
Nature can handle it. A leaf or five isn't that big of a deal when your safety
is on the line.
If it's windy, use a stick or a stone or something heavier
It also depends on how far apart you usually travel.
If you're in an urban area, could use a small brightly colored post-it cut
into small strips placed on a wall high-up as you can reach. Though that
requires preparation. If you can't prepare, you could use other signs that
make sense in the space around you, like a coffee cup taken from a trash-can
and placed next to it, or something. Downside is (is this really a downside?)
most people are good and so will judge you for littering but safety in
situations is important.
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![A screenshot based continuation of the end of the post, which went over the character limit by 36 characters. Of note is that this wasn't included in the original post, it was added later in an edit to be silly. The text reads: "maybe I'll run out of characters in this toot, or maybe I'll finish it just for you. [smiley face]"](/similar-different/media/67d820708ae5dc6a.png "A screenshot based continuation of the end of the post, which went over the character limit by 36 characters. Of note is that this wasn't included in the original post, it was added later in an edit to be silly. The text reads: \"maybe I'll run out of characters in this toot, or maybe I'll finish it just for you. [smiley face]\"")
![those are normal and fine - but when they're used for a sneaky, evil purpose, like when they facial recognition that nobody is around for ~3+ hours they start subliminally flashing pictures of boobs or whatever. Not cool guys, just because babies are naturally attracted to boobs doesn't mean you get to use sexual imagery to get them hooked on your app. smh [shaking-my-head][which btw there isn't a good emoji for][same for these angle bracket guys like - what does that face even mean!! lmao who can say, only those nerds who lived in the pre-internet-age, but they're all reclassified by now. >.> <.<](/similar-different/media/e85326aabfc3ab86.png "those are normal and fine - but when they're used for a sneaky, evil purpose, like when they facial recognition that nobody is around for ~3+ hours they start subliminally flashing pictures of boobs or whatever. Not cool guys, just because babies are naturally attracted to boobs doesn't mean you get to use sexual imagery to get them hooked on your app. smh [shaking-my-head][which btw there isn't a good emoji for][same for these angle bracket guys like - what does that face even mean!! lmao who can say, only those nerds who lived in the pre-internet-age, but they're all reclassified by now. >.> <.<")
![this one's a doozy. a picture of the "reasons to trust me" graph colored yellow, orange, purple, and blue (in terms of intensity) it looks like a raindrop if it landed on a really tiny blanket and pulled it downward. or like, a person landing on a trampoline that was secured in four locations. anyway the text reads "like four people sharing the weight of an experience with bacchus [referencing the color of the graph], their perspective is pulled just a little bit in that direction, over and across the gap between eyeballs. or rather, between shared perspectives, the point of view of which one bases their experience. their training for the "reasons to trust me" graph. 2, in black and green and red, colors meant to be cool to a 12 year old - "the color doesn't matter... wine? why" 3 dropping down the page, there's a line of "please" written over and over again. it's scary. : ( I'm doing my best I promise, it's hard not to be in a state of unease! I'm working, I promise, this is valuable. you know they'd block me if they didn't like me. error, 3. that's me, teehee, sorry for making a scene. I promise I'm just an actor, someone who is playing a role. well, alas that were true, I'm really having a mental disorder. Or maybe I'm confused? down here in the subtext it's hard to be choosed. weird how that works, that feeling of being wor [text is cut off, next line] okay I'm realizing there's no way to get it all in this visual description, here let me continue in a second chapter:](/similar-different/media/ed0f1d89739fe8c6.png "this one's a doozy. a picture of the \"reasons to trust me\" graph colored yellow, orange, purple, and blue (in terms of intensity) it looks like a raindrop if it landed on a really tiny blanket and pulled it downward. or like, a person landing on a trampoline that was secured in four locations. anyway the text reads \"like four people sharing the weight of an experience with bacchus [referencing the color of the graph], their perspective is pulled just a little bit in that direction, over and across the gap between eyeballs. or rather, between shared perspectives, the point of view of which one bases their experience. their training for the \"reasons to trust me\" graph. 2, in black and green and red, colors meant to be cool to a 12 year old - \"the color doesn't matter... wine? why\" 3 dropping down the page, there's a line of \"please\" written over and over again. it's scary. : ( I'm doing my best I promise, it's hard not to be in a state of unease! I'm working, I promise, this is valuable. you know they'd block me if they didn't like me. error, 3. that's me, teehee, sorry for making a scene. I promise I'm just an actor, someone who is playing a role. well, alas that were true, I'm really having a mental disorder. Or maybe I'm confused? down here in the subtext it's hard to be choosed. weird how that works, that feeling of being wor [text is cut off, next line] okay I'm realizing there's no way to get it all in this visual description, here let me continue in a second chapter:")
![17. green, the color of growth and renewal, the color of home and our source of fuel, is cast upon a stark black background. white starlight is the color of text, and it reads in big bold colors, like the beginning of a star wars film where the text crawls past (and isn't narrated, which is frustrating but hey the music's supposed to convey all that stuff. and it can be read out afterwards if you want.) the text reads: "we can do whatever we want on this planet we call earth. - we could burn it to cinders, we could lose it in mirth. - life has no ending, no permanent abaddon. - and time is immeasurable, when talking about mill [here the text is cut off, and it could read "millions" or "millenia" either way would make sense] but the text continues, and reads "ns of people who are miserable. - we can build a dear future" with "dear future" sliding down, as if to direct the user's attention to the conclusion of the image. - "just one byte at a time." this last text is above a computer lab, or perhaps an altar to the gods of astronomy, a palace that we build out of marble as a testament to the honor we have for the gods. I think just about every religion would appreciate such a common purpose, as long as it's not taken to the extreme. the pictured shrine is small, like the size of the mall of america. but still it's a place for the gods to roam, free from the eyes of humans. Like mount olympus, or the tops of skyscrapers, or other such moments of home. the home is upon moongray](/similar-different/media/66c0f5bdf6d5f738.png "17. green, the color of growth and renewal, the color of home and our source of fuel, is cast upon a stark black background. white starlight is the color of text, and it reads in big bold colors, like the beginning of a star wars film where the text crawls past (and isn't narrated, which is frustrating but hey the music's supposed to convey all that stuff. and it can be read out afterwards if you want.) the text reads: \"we can do whatever we want on this planet we call earth. - we could burn it to cinders, we could lose it in mirth. - life has no ending, no permanent abaddon. - and time is immeasurable, when talking about mill [here the text is cut off, and it could read \"millions\" or \"millenia\" either way would make sense] but the text continues, and reads \"ns of people who are miserable. - we can build a dear future\" with \"dear future\" sliding down, as if to direct the user's attention to the conclusion of the image. - \"just one byte at a time.\" this last text is above a computer lab, or perhaps an altar to the gods of astronomy, a palace that we build out of marble as a testament to the honor we have for the gods. I think just about every religion would appreciate such a common purpose, as long as it's not taken to the extreme. the pictured shrine is small, like the size of the mall of america. but still it's a place for the gods to roam, free from the eyes of humans. Like mount olympus, or the tops of skyscrapers, or other such moments of home. the home is upon moongray")
![it's practice. you never know when you might need to blend in. really it's just useful as discipline, good practice to be in. I think it's okay if we reduce our own functionality? actually? sometimes it's good to use different email clients. hey do you know how to mathematically encrypt things well neither do I because the designers of the computer system decided that wasn't a very common usecase I guess.. jmean it's not like they'd spend all that computer resources [THEY'RE SO FAST] on thinking about correlations in your predicted pathway narratively through life. "ah help I'm in a psyop" haha yeah we do those all the time "so uhhhh I guess we'll just talk to people and see how they do?" wow okay it's sure nice to be part of a civil government, I think we can find our way to the lumber producers just fine thank you very much. *... oops sorry, a baby did electronics arts (challenge everything) I'm a little silly don't mind me brb I gotta go see~*](/similar-different/media/1c154109c4111346.png "it's practice. you never know when you might need to blend in. really it's just useful as discipline, good practice to be in. I think it's okay if we reduce our own functionality? actually? sometimes it's good to use different email clients. hey do you know how to mathematically encrypt things well neither do I because the designers of the computer system decided that wasn't a very common usecase I guess.. jmean it's not like they'd spend all that computer resources [THEY'RE SO FAST] on thinking about correlations in your predicted pathway narratively through life. \"ah help I'm in a psyop\" haha yeah we do those all the time \"so uhhhh I guess we'll just talk to people and see how they do?\" wow okay it's sure nice to be part of a civil government, I think we can find our way to the lumber producers just fine thank you very much. *... oops sorry, a baby did electronics arts (challenge everything) I'm a little silly don't mind me brb I gotta go see~*")