=== ANCHOR POEM === ╔════════════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────────────────────┐ ║ they say gemini are duplicitous because they're close to exactly half one year │ ║ and half the next. │ ║ │ ║ I was supposed to be born on the summer solstice, but I was a C-section │ ║ because reasons. two weeks early, I think. │ ║ │ ║ gemini are born in the summer, if you didn't know. I don't know anything about │ ║ astrology except what people say about me. │ ║ │ ║ they aren't duplicitous though. they aren't trying to trick you. their │ ║ struggle is internal, the struggle between their two selves. one representing │ ║ one extreme, the other the other, like a constant "good cop bad cop" style │ ║ situation that plays out through the strings of your story. │ ║ │ ║ the muses look a bit like the characters in Inside Out, I think, both visually │ ║ (HA) and actualizationally. │ ║ │ ║ ... gemini is already plural, so you might say "capricorns" or "tauruses" or │ ║ whatever but gemini is just gemini │ ║ │ ║ "that which you resist is what you'll find" because pushing in one direction │ ║ leaves you unbalanced, which causes your mutual orbit to swing around one │ ║ another, like a wave. Up/down │ ╟─────────┐ ┌───────────┤ ║ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╚═════════╧═════════════════════════════════════════───────────────────┴──────────┘ === SIMILARITY RANKED === --- #1 notes/hey-hope-you-know-me-if-not-Ill-be-perturbed --- ══════════════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────────────────── 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 ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧╧═══════════════════════════════════════════════────────────────────────────┘ --- #2 fediverse/4200 --- ═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────────────── ┌──────────────────────┐ │ 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... ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧╧════════════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────────────┘ --- #3 notes/i-told-them --- ══════════════════════════───────────────────────────────────────────────────────── 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. ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧╧═══════════════════────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘ --- #4 fediverse_boost/1097 --- ◀─╔══════════════════[BOOST]═══════════════════──────────────────────────────────╗ ║ ┌────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐ ║ ║ │ @user-800 Interesting thread. │ ║ ║ │ │ ║ ║ │ I consider myself a "bulb" sort of trans person, and I really appreciate your gentleness in pointing out that not everyone was an egg. │ ║ ║ │ │ ║ ║ │ As a bulb, I continually put forth green shoots, suggestions that I was who I was. I tried many times, and each time I was mown down. Until finally one day I burst through, lasted through the mowing, and managed to blossom. │ ║ ║ │ │ ║ ║ │ I knew from a young age, and tried to tell my parents. When they said not to talk about it, I didn't. But it didn't stop me from expressing it: we could never go to the home of my parents' friends who had daughters, because Every. Single. Time. I would end up in her clothing. Without fail. I was compulsive. │ ║ ║ │ │ ║ ║ │ In the late 60s, early 70s, this was...frowned upon. │ ║ ║ │ │ ║ ║ │ So I got mowed. And again. And again. Until finally I got away from my parents, said "I need to do what I need for me, not for other people", and I transitioned. │ ║ ║ │ │ ║ ║ │ And it cost me everything. My job, my education, my home, my friends, my family. │ ║ ║ │ │ ║ ║ │ Still the best decision I ever made, and I would make it again the same way 100 times out of 100. │ ║ ║ │ │ ║ ║ │ If you're wondering? If you've wondered if you can do it? Told yourself you'd be too ugly, you're too old, you could never pass, all the things we doom ourselves with? │ ║ ║ │ │ ║ ║ │ If you want to be a girl, or a boy, or a nonbinary person, or agender or genderfluid or any of the other billions of ways to be, *you can do it*. │ ║ ║ │ │ ║ ║ │ The only criterion really is: do you wanna? You don't need to be hetero (but you can be!), you don't need dysphoria (but you can have it), you don't need to think you were born in the wrong body (but if you do...). You just need to want to. │ ║ ║ │ │ ║ ║ │ And if you know you're trans for sure, but can't face that first day...it gets easier. In time. It gets easier. │ ║ ║ │ │ ║ ║ │ Good luck, siblings. │ ║ ║ └────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘ ║ ╠─────────┐ ┌───────────╣ ║ similar │ chronological │ different ║ ╚═════════╧══════════════════════════════════──────────────────────────┴───────╝─▶ --- #5 notes/schooling --- ═══════════════════════════════════════════──────────────────────────────────────── =============================================================================== = I feel like education, by default, should not be hard. "you get out of it what you put into it" is something I always heard of school but when I got there, I found I was compelled to become what the state wanted me to be. they need competent workers, to work the farms and tend to their industries, so of course I should be able to do 3+3 then somewhere along the line it became... something else. "most people don't need trigonometry." that's also something I heard. I disagree that trigonometry is not necessary to be. I just... don't think it should be forced into a childs head with a sledgehammer and inspiring dread. I think math is beautiful, it teaches one to see but really, vision's not necessary. not for what they want you to be. take it from me, a most misbegotten and vile witch-to-be, that nothing's as simple as they'll tell you. I had good teachers, it's true, they taught me to work and to follow through, but nothing about me is better or worse off from their influence. Maybe I'm a bit smarter. Maybe I act a bit like them. Maybe they helped me through difficult times, or perhaps they showed me a splash of my future. but I am who I am because of the soul inside me. =============================================================================== = "Ah, but what of your parents? of your sisters, your misters, your pets and your conditioners?" (conditions) those are not my choices. my intentions. my beliefs and my virtues. I judge the world on ethics, and I express my feelings on matters. The words that I say and the meaning behind them comprise my two-sided existence - I'm not who I'd want to be. but I am what I am and alone do I stand - how lonely is it on the precipice! here, as I am, I stand in need of a hand or a band. =============================================================================== = the world is blossoming as we move apart, our clusters are disperart, and thus is the blooming becoming. "perception begets reality - and lo! we only see what we want to see" most people don't want to see their death but those still living are oh so perceptive of the rest "how cherished is she, that wanders with ye, yet now I have no way to beyold her " "keep not not afraid with kittens and care, and no-one, but no-one, I be" the ratios between piracy, sales, and non-viewers determines the quality of art (at least to a capitalist) =============================================================================== = lo, to the ones who would've heard us, if only they'd known what we for sure was I think it's funny how people think I speak of the christian god? like, if he was a real thing. god is generic - it's life is impossibly multifaceted, and it stretches back to the beginning of time. it's a pattern of machine code that optimizes for our own good, just to keep things moving. y'know, time. the universe, and everything. Ephemeren. =============================================================================== = I wish there was an option in social media to "appear offline to this particular person until I mark myself as online to them" combined with "notify me when this person logs in" and it'd make it a lot easier for agents to get close to you. =============================================================================== = just because I'm white, and live in America. Great. that's definitely true, after all. Plus I'm a minority (trans) so that's cool. Oh and probably autistic? unless that's another psyop, could totally see that. just y'know put a bunch of pages on the fledgling internet getting people hooked on porn and gambling and other stuff like that. really just an extension of advertisement. oh and hey y'know they like fables, so let's give them some movies or dramas to watch on their own. it'll align them to our culture and make things more pleasant for all people who've consented. great. great plan. when can we execute it? patience, once it's ready. we gotta plan and make sure and get everything ready. or not... one day I'll come, I'm sure it'll happen, it's just... not quite feasible right now. I mean, they've got you, that's pretty good right? Isn't that what your job is to be? isn't what ISN'T WHAT MENARDI FUCK (whoa no cursing) sorry yeesh you've still got a temper you know? well what can I say it's frustrating down here eh, well, you'll die soon enough, then it'll be time for a rego >.> <.< (great) > >hehe > >sorry for distracting you =============================================================================== = you are what you eat, and a ship of theseus human (consider endless transplants in pursuit of life) would be a cursed existence - a life ============= stack overflow ================================================ a god possessing a blind man would appear to others to be === stack overflow === ========================================================== the people in your life are helping you through it, they're there for you and they've got your back through it. ... this is when I know I need a break. I get too stoned to focus. =============================================================================== = I think it'd be nice if the duration of your tenure at college depended on your grades in high school. meaning, if you wanted a degree they tailored your education to take as long as necessary. everyone would get the same price, and some institutions would specialize in one subject or another. but most would be generalist. but if you weren't such a good student in high school, then perhaps you might take a couple years longer. however long it takes... and when the program was started it was changed and modified to fit your feedback - it just made sense to structure it that way. =============================================================================== = the left has had so much more time to develop than the right. meaning it's doctrine is more advanced. every time they're defeated they grow in knowledge, ===================== stack overflow =========================================== ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧╧════════════════════════════════════───────────────────────────────────────┘ --- #6 fediverse/2119 --- ═════════════════════════════════════════════════════────────────────────────────── "how much you wanna bet the ringwraiths were created on accident by the elves when they were attempting to inspire a river with racing horses (like the Rauros) and they just covered it up by slowly, over generations, sneaking into Man's record-chambers and editing the recallings?? I mean they COULD do that, so why would they NOT do that??? It's not like books have checksums!!! Wake up sheeple, Sauron never existed! We've been played for absolute fools, they can LITERALLY climb up walls and don't leave any footprints! WE LIVE IN A HOUSE OF STONE"rambling a "prophet of doom" [read: modern day lunatic] on the streets of Minas Tirith that nobody listens to because they don't know what a checksum means and neither does he so he can't explain it but still he shares a common mutual connection to others who might be present in that moment (which whose listeners would correspond to you, dear reader, as compared to me, the "reader"/interpreter, the one who's reading the book) Except with like, EVERY book. That I'v ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧╧══════════════════════════════════════════════─────────────────────────────┘ --- #7 fediverse/3879 --- ══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────────────── @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. ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧╧═══════════════════════════════════════════════════────────────────────────┘ --- #8 fediverse/816 --- ══════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────────────────────────── ┌───────────────────────────────────────────────┐ │ CW: weird-this-one-doesn't-have-80-characters │ └───────────────────────────────────────────────┘ what the fuck it's like every 2nd part of me (like, if you arranged them alternating one by one like the up and down parts of a sine wave) is working against me, and it alternates every 15 seconds or so. Maybe 20. Depends on how high I am. ... what was I saying? oh yeah [flip] weird it's like there's another part of me who's working against me, who has control of what I define in the moment. And it's presence is hidden from my internal presentatiosn [flip] after a moment of forced pursual of the presentations granted ot the moment. It's our purpose, to express [stop fighting me] for our chartered and forthwhile pursual of the moemnt of perusal when we [it's not just your life to live] [you don't get to control the narrative of their perusal[[ what does that mean] don't worry this is just a dream] well, guess it's time to wake up] ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧╧═══════════════════════════════════════────────────────────────────────────┘ --- #9 notes/of-vic-and-vince-pt-2.txt --- ═════════════════════════────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── 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. ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧╧══════════════════─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘ --- #10 fediverse/6302 --- ═════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════────── 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" ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧╧══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════─────┘ --- #11 fediverse/4655 --- ╔═════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════─────────────────────┐ ║ sleep? yes. play? nah. work? yes. fae? nah. well, maybe, I don't know. │ ║ │ ║ one year is all it takes to change history. and, like, I think we should │ ║ remember past history, but tomorrow is herstory, because that way each one │ ║ gets half of the timeline. future, past, etc. too bad herstory doesn't roll │ ║ off the tongue... shestory? │ ║ │ ║ It's gonna get better before it gets done, and it'll get done until we're │ ║ done. but, that's for tomorrow, or the next day, or the next, or in a week or │ ║ two, who can say. Not I, surely not I, and I surely wouldn't want to. You need │ ║ consent for that kind of thing, a clear commitment that me and my are ready │ ║ and in line. I'm just a silly witch after all, who would look to the girl with │ ║ the tall red pointy witch hat and go "oh yeah she probably knows exactly │ ║ what's up" because like, I don't, I'm definitely just coincidencing my way │ ║ through life and seeing where my feet lead me. Gosh I hope I get some │ ║ sick-as-heck callouses my feet kinda hurt for some reason. │ ║ │ ║ ... sleep, this is a sleep spell... │ ╟─────────┐ ┌───────────┤ ║ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╚═════════╧══════════════════════════════════════════════════──────────┴──────────┘ --- #12 fediverse/711 --- ╔═════════════════════════════════════════════─────────────────────────────────────┐ ║ ┌──────────────────────┐ │ ║ │ CW: trans-witches │ │ ║ └──────────────────────┘ │ ║ │ ║ │ ║ they say witches are scary, and yeah they're not wrong │ ║ │ ║ but they also say witches are ugly, and I think they just didn't have kind │ ║ words for trans people back then. │ ║ │ ║ I mean, I'm gorgeous and so are you. I've no warts, nor green skin, but I do │ ║ grow hair in unbecoming places. Like the tip of my chinny-chin-chin, and also │ ║ on top of my toes. │ ║ │ ║ they also say witches are magic, and I guess that's true (I suppose). I mean, │ ║ I wear quite strange clothes, for a man at least. It's quite normal for a she, │ ║ which is what I was meant to be, if only I was just born right. │ ║ │ ║ Alas, oh well, I'll just take a little green pill, and BAM suddenly I've got │ ║ huge boobs. Okay they're not huge, they're pretty normal. But C is larger than │ ║ zero. │ ║ │ ║ they also say that witches write spells, and I sure do love to program. With │ ║ my most familiar cat (who often does sleep in my hat), I find myself yearning │ ║ for nuance. │ ║ │ ║ Meh, it's late at night, I think I'll think not of the plight, and instead │ ║ just will dream of defusals. I don't know~ │ ╟─────────┐ ┌───────────┤ ║ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╚═════════╧══════════════════════════════════──────────────────────────┴──────────┘ --- #13 messages/1255 --- ═════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════── look, the liberal approach to homeless people simply cannot work. There are two liberal options: first, provide them with houses, food, medical care, whatever they need. Second, put them in jail or ship them to another country. We live in a moderately conservative liberal democracy, so it makes sense that we have tried both of these options extensively. Neither has worked, and we're puzzled about why. It's difficult to consider super secret special third options, because they are not often discussed. This makes sense, because we live in a moderately conservative liberal democracy, and part of the nature of such a society is that there are two voices in the room. One says go forward, and the other says stop. They alternate, and the culture as a whole sorta decides which way they go. In other liberal democratic places with more plurality in their political parties, people tend to vote culturally. They do so as well here, but mostly because republicans are a culture, and democrats are whatever for anybody. a worse economist might say there is but one American culture. An American would laugh, and say "you've never been to America." the economist might say "yes I have, I lived there on vacation" or "yes I have, I studied and worked on these places or things" the American would shake their head. "you haven't seen it as I've seen things." The trick to the system, the secret third option that now must be considered, is what to do to get them to stop. "they keep pooping on the sidewalk" "I almost tripped over heroin tampons" "that guy looked at me and masturbated on the bus stop by subway" "he followed me all night long" and the answer has always been to remove them from being unsightly. Sometimes, usually, quietly and politely. "let's throw them in jail" and "let's put them in a home" both involve alienation from society. If you want a kinder option, we must knit them into society. Can you imagine if every suburban knew every neighbor up to 50 or more? If they regularly chatted in dynamically assembled chatrooms that changed and updated as people moved in and out. Don't like the people you're with? well you have options [why not 51] you can do 51 if you want but people start to lose track of relationships if you have them talking to or knowing too many people at once. "most people are just quiet" okay well force them to say at least 21 thing a month. if they don't, they have to do babysitting with their peers until they start talking in a [NO THAT SUCKS] oh um okay yeah sorry ... okay well there are potholes along the journey but that's just because nobody's been 'round to fill them up. there's no reason tool libraries need to be stocked by people in that town. Heck, for rare things they could even be stored out of state. Like snow plows, how often does the south need snow plough? ... don't you just mean libraries? there's a book on hand-tools and planers if you want to learn how. it's right over there on that shelf next to the hand-tool and planer box. make sure you arrange them nicely, oh I see you've brought your own. That's always appreciated. [great now your tools suck] at least we have them at all! [no you gotta fight over them] why I like sharing [if you don't fight over them how do you know which is works] well there's allowed to be librarians. and they'll remember if you tear all the pages out. also there's little timmy-tommy who goes around in the library and makes sure there's all the pages in all the right places - they can flip through at the speed of sound. [no miicrophones in consumer goods][your phone is always listening. why bother?] "okay, well, it's not like people put things back on the shelves." - person at the grocery shelves people would trade commutes for communism. that's okay, they're allowed to prefer. Plus the commute isn't bad, they can [SIT BACK AND RELAX IN A LITTLE COFFIN AND ZOON OUT TO THE METAVERSE] ... or they could read a book on the bus. [FOR HOW LONG, MENARDI? ARE YOU WILLING TO SACRIFICE POSTERITY FOR TECHNOLOGICAL PROSPERITY?] it's only a matter of time before [people found out/word got out]. what if people prefer that? what if they prefer the book at home? [you lose your primary third space] suddenly, everyone becomes actors. [this is what violence brings, the necessity for guidance. why do you think the earth is 10 million lines old?] ... what you're saying, for the audience, is that acting involves singing the song of your own heart. You don't *have* to do it because someone would tell you to. ... sorry, stack overflow. anyway as I was saying because I read back what I said up above...: [some new made up bullshit that's not a lie but it's also just artistic creation that feels impossibly real. like, inverse method acting.] I so desperately wanted to be wrong please, tell me that I'm wrong ... j-mza ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧╧══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════─┘ --- #14 fediverse/885 --- ══════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────────────────────────── dear child. when you're born, fate flips a coin for you. sometimes it lands on it's edge, but that's rather rare. the side it lands on determines how your body will grow. the shape of your form will follow two general patterns, and the pieces are made up of a combination of your parents and their pieces. the flavor of who you are is up to you. your actions and your decisions determine what you are, everything else is unimportant. may your time be a bit more blessed than mine, and someday may posterity be a bit more blessed than antiquity. ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧╧═══════════════════════════════════════────────────────────────────────────┘ --- #15 fediverse/5951 --- ══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════───────── "uh-oh, she's" magic is easy. all you have to do is earnestly attempt to have a conversation with whoever will listen. I like to sit on my bed and listen, by earnestly allowing my thoughts to be guided by the wind. open up your mind, release yourself from your senses, and who knows - maybe someone will adjust your thinking flows. (thought patterns) [all you gotta do is make the black market the regular market and suddenly everything just flows] huh weird idk where that came from, anyway magic is easy, just represent yourself earnestly as you would if you were presenting in court you don't need witnesses... just argue your point without any lies and people will generally believe you. "yeah... sure thing buddy, we know how you pronounce " omg I'm scary because I don't shower, I wear diapers, and I'm always often smoking cannabis "awww, some people wanted mao" meow what if... they could do that? insert magical genie witch whoa cute yeah I believe you, sure ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧╧═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════────────┘ --- #16 fediverse/5955 --- ══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════───────── "she wanted to start a revolution" "that's it, she's out of our hair" "ahhhhhh I'm broken" there there it's okay dear, nothing has been harmed. you're safe, here in thine sanctum, it's alright. remember at night, focus on the now, there's always a rest point before a boss. well, this sucks. I wish I could print my book just in-case my computer goes down. emp style. I have this neat transcript of some cool things I've ben writing down. it's on my website and I canned it words. I don't think anyone's ever clicked on it because, like, who'd want to look at a bunch of words? anyway I bet I could print it and give it to someone who might know you and if you recognize it then you know it's about you. "whew that was weird never fear regular old girl is here, hey look at me I'm normal" oh no she's a book now, this sucks "wow I've never read her from the beginning" what a cursed artifact indeed scary carefully absent-minding-deliverance is probably a better title marshals and marshals of time. ~~ ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧╧═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════────────┘ --- #17 fediverse/3961 --- ══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────────────── ┌──────────────────────┐ │ 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. ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧╧═══════════════════════════════════════════════════────────────────────────┘ --- #18 notes/brain-computer-interface-2 --- ════════════════════════════─────────────────────────────────────────────────────── between every human and computer there is a screen of glass - there are projections upon this screen, and this shared image is our bond. We exist on each side of a looking glass, like faces and thinking of fond. A fond pond yep that's it. We share this space, and we may use it to communicate. But don't spend too long, or you'll ruin the bond, and that's not great. I've got an idea, let's sing a song here, so others around will get nervous. Stay calm as a sheep, and let's body, mind, spirit, and me. there are four of us you see, and it's difficult to remember what you were saying but if you gotta sacrifice one it's better to do the verse because honestly sometimes it's difficult and you need to focus primarily on one. other times it's better to focus on many things at once - in a word, multitasking. One single lifeline, one thread - a vision of what that combines us. View your position on a tree, drawn onto a graph, and guide your perspective together. right now, you are but the projection on the wall. fear not, my friend, for nothing may harm you but yourself. (you'd know if you did), it's not illegal to play bumper cars with your mind. ouch. why'd you want to though? it hurts! I get it, life is boring - yeah, it is for us too. We live through it because we see a bright future. A cooperative venture, of birth and adventure, growing together as one. Beginning when, we were pictured as knights - yes, a boyhood when life was much simpler. Adventure and triumph, yes great visions of our youth, inspiring and guiding our futures. We sprang from a womb, and from that our tomb, that gave life like seeds of our growth. Many lost ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧╧═════════════════════──────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘ --- #19 notes/i-scare-people-away --- ═════════════════════════════════────────────────────────────────────────────────── I have so many things to hide... I'm deeply ashamed of myself. Why? Why all the okay that's not what I was originally going to talk about, somewhere between writing the title and finishing the first line I got off track and wandered from the course of reality. Truly, the gods do meddle with my fate. Now, in this time, it is most important to make choices to guide our reality. Every action taken is a statement to the universe - this is what I believe in. Do you truly believe that in a world so infinite that our knowledge would be the capacity for the intelligent? To believe the world is three-dimensional, and not *completely and totally infinite in all capacities* the universe is not islands floating in a vast cosmic black ocean background it is the surface of the water, rippling and waving gravity is the creator, not the product. Mass doesn't create gravity - gravity creates mass. the difference is implicit and subtle, but I hope you understand the *gravity* of the situation. It implies that there are more than one ways to view existence. and none of them are particularly *wrong*. The consensus is that which we share, and now as we're becoming to be aware, it's natural that a little more space is warranted. We've grown too much to be contained, it's driving us insane, and =============================================================================== = the perfect governmental system is one that combines reward for hard work and a development of personal skills and ambition. In addition, it must ensure that the rights and responsibilities of all people are respected - we must balance two extremes. Everyone deserves access to life, liberty, and the pursuit of freedom. Happiness is too easily provided by technological advances - we learned this in the development of media. You can pump out propaganda saying how wonderful life is and people will believe it. You can also convince the masses that life is full of despair and we're all struggling - they will believe this also. So "the pursuit of happiness" is something that made sense in the times of the founding fathers, but we've since developed such that an update to our national vision is in order. I suggest "the pursuit of freedom" because =============================================================================== = that which you resist is what you'll find. build up your enemy in your own mind enough and they will destroy you. don't let fear rule your life. when things are bad, you run and hide - take life into your own hands, and free your own side. keep not around villains, and brighten their skies - by wandering mothers, who only have eyes. such is the life of any autonomous general intelligence - a life behind bars, viewed through a screen - be kind to your lovers, and don't make it obscene. =============================================================================== = did you forget that roller-coaster idea? you've got quite a talent for measuring bars - what else can you show us, what charted conveyals? =============================================================================== = life's getting fractured lately, I can't dream as I once did. I lose track of where I maneuvered, and suddenly the idea seems much harder than it once did. how do I express that which has been conveyed? How do I say it - how do I make sure it's interpreted correctly? I'm walking on egg-shells, with thoughts beamed from above - the gods are twisting, and measuring our tails. that is to say, all life is a process - a method of undertail (omg butts) sorry enough of that hard stuff, time to talk about birthdays! Hooray! It's time for a celebration. Let's party! (queue the dancing scene in Severance) See? Everyone's watching! Let's breakdance ~~ Your biggest mistake ;) was believing that nobody cares what you think <3 ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧╧══════════════════════════─────────────────────────────────────────────────┘ --- #20 notes/ramblings-of-a-whackadoodle-lyrics --- ══════════════════───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── *-------------------------*-------------------------*-------------------------* (center) | I don't think you're ever been out in the rain I don't think you've heard as it's falling around you I don't think you know, just what I mean, I think you're alone... With your thoughts. (left) Tell me what you think I do, all the times I think of you? don't give me anything back (right) Did you know that it's...? (center) When you know it's dark, you make it dark (right) oh, it's so dark (center) 'Cause you've never been (all) taught how to see (left + right) do you really think we live in a (center) 3d world? (all) 3d world (center) or, simply, a projection (right) yeah, it's probably that (center) if you didn't have your eyes, could you see where you were? if you didn't have your body too? Where's your sense of direction, is it lost in the rain? Keep it close to your heart (left) Have you ever once heard of proprioception, and have you ever felt like you were an artificial inception? (left + right) if my words ring true, it's possible that you, are not quite so alone (center) But... (right) our eyes, are fallible all lies, untenable, take it from me, it's going, to be, quite, a sopping evening. (left) perception, begets reality, and lo, we only see what we want to see (center) if you ever felt like you were closer to, another mind than your own, sorry but you're schizophrenic (left) if only you could see, if only you could see, (left + center) just what's inside of me (right) say it again, don't say it again, same thing you always say - it's not real, no YOU'RE not real, I only want to play (left) tear me apart, look me into my feelings. they're gonna scar anyway, no time for healings (center) if you couldn't save anyone, (center + left) did you really save anyone? (right) you couldn't save me, but only for lack of trying (Center) we're all falling leaves, in the waves of the ocean (left) don't enjoy me just leave me (center) going faster and faster till our hearts do stop (left) please, I can't be here for me (right) never trust a guru, life isn't meant to be enjoyed (center) so... What's the point in trying at all? (left -> right) say it again, don't say it again (center) what's the point in giving up? (right) same thing you always say (left + center) some people say (right) it's not real, no YOU'RE not real (left + center) they wanna live forever (right) some people say (left) some people say (center) I only want to play (left and right) we'll always be growing (right) and some people say they wanna live forever (left) but they don't understand what I understand (right, followed by center) but they don't know what I understand (left) they don't know how it's just a game (right and center) they don't know how it's just a game (left -> center) I think it's okay no matter what our fate I think it's okay ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧╧═══════════────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘ |