=== ANCHOR POEM === ═══════════════──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── R.I.P. Rip City Thanks for being so good to me 144? D.M.V. Can I see I. D.? Finally, ya’ll hear for the symphony! I.O.P. Intensive outpatient Rolled on past the Devil’s sympathy This shit is expensive without patience Says the hospital when I heal all the patients Did you foresee this going differently? Space in your head People payin’ rent for me Why was it a surprise You knew exactly how to tempt me Space in your bed No more thoughts of demise Our people need the empathy Of a Soul that’s full, not half empty Supreme swag, hospitable with compliances She’s seen Dad to the middle achieving self-reliance From the trailer park to a rocket appliance Living in my car to plugin to your rebel alliance You know I am a star when I can relate God to science I’ll build the divine comedy, you just have to finance Talking about the past and our fine, slow dance Medieval we will rock you, mounted with my lance Knight’s tailing me, eying my Arthurian slants This one’s built to last as I put on my pants Drank the grail and proceeded on another rant Sitting outside your house trying to remove the ants Big boy’s do cry So why does your girlfriend seem so dry? I’ll make the rains come this July Your humor is awful, oh my Internal tribulation Who needs to walk on water When you can fly Hard pills to swallow Personal revelations On the countertop Fuckin’ America Pie Hard act to follow With my levitations Floundering to flop And this mark on my thigh All this separation Just makes me hotter As I open the sky Oil on the Nighthawks Jack Harlow Lighting my fry Spoil me in my socks Poppin’ off my rocks Hittin’ all the corners Because that’s my guy How Soon is Now? Linda, take off that shirt Before they break up and I cry Record skipping over lies Wedding Singer broken Singing I hope you die Slinking behind the curtain Laughing, He’s losing his mind And the benefit is mine! Like the whole world is sublime Chris Cornell put me on the grind Wide awake now till The end of the time Met him on the stairs And now we dine Some angels have more range But he says I’ll do just fine Billy Idol tried to sing to me But I was drunkin’ blind At the fairground, trying to find Love Catholic girlfriend tried to bring it to me Called her a Kunt instead of shined A buddy said it’s like imitation crab So it’s fine The drink made me angry and I was a runt On the inside Her Mom told me the next day, Jacob, don’t call your girlfriend a cunt! I miss those simpler times Don’t need a fuckin’ gun But our last name may suggest it Put it on a leather jacket So haters can digest it When I let loose with all this shit I’ve had to respite I’m about to be blastin’ my nine’s Evangelicals are gonna detest it You know everything is miiiiine Six strings out of tune for this age So I broke them all Every time I was on stage You just can’t believe it’s real this tiiiime Shooting hoops times a thousand You and me are still gonna sixty-niiiine What’s the point of polarity? If we can’t combiiiine It’s how I get off, man Along came Polly and my one chance White chocolate like Philip Seymour Hoffman Maybe even throw up a rain dance These native spirits in me Are capable of insane chants But I ball so hard, singing Boston Because it’s more than a feeling And that’s awesome One if by land, two if by sea Revolution is coming Led by you and me The name reminded me “of the Sea...” So annoying, but I see… But that’s why they call me Bad Company People are going to say This gift is not even fair Only thing I’ve had to pray For is a head of white hair King James’s personal revelation I mean, I did pay their fare I’m too full of myself for meditation Or to care Revelation 22:18 through 19 I don’t need handlebars For my biking Because I don't do that shit on Mars On this path, I told you to start hiking You’re gonna need a head start from Lord of Lightning Before the Thunder of my voice Does all the striking Thor, you’re just a Viking With arrogance dialed to no one’s liking Sucked in the gut, to appear more striking Because thinking about half my people gone Changes the tone of my typing Me with all my shit together might be frightening Bring forth complete Love instead of smiting Wouldn’t that be a nice detour in my writing? If you’re feeling this wait for the sequel I gotta fuck with 50 for trying to talk like my equal It’s all God’s plan I just had to spare Déagol So America can skip to the end with a fuckin’ Eagle Watch me do shit that shouldn’t even be legal Dismiss Death and Taxes like I’m Evel Knievel When I’m really just here to break the chains of my people Strip naked and run through Mordor Expose the truth behind Bipolar disorder It has been used to disrupt order And bring down the line of the Highest Into something shorter I'm definitely bais and this is a tall order But if you struggle with mental illness I'm here to open the potential for a new border I've removed all the bequeathed prison warders Here is the Church Here is the Steeple Open the Doors And see all the People Push the parson out the way Get you up the Stairs Because our bed is Regal And we are going to show these people Why the Universe wants to make our Power Illegal If this sounds bad these people will just have to wait So in love with myself, I might just run off to the lake I love all the fire and the songs that it helps me make I’m on my time with everyone and I am my favorite date They’re back there tuning a harp and I keep bringing up rape Meat puppets strumming as I seal my own fate Just so I can watch myself when I am inspired to create Distilling the life left in me to eliminate all the hate Where did you sleep, hinting at the deadly A Leadbelly to transmute to a gold medley Shame alchemy, body double for Lena Headey As my people go first up ahead of me Stoned Jesus on the Mountain Grange of Headley Plant a Stairway to Heaven one day, she led to me All this beauty in my Mind, you shouldn’t have fed me All of these hearts that so passionately bled me Between the pines and what the land said to me Ryan Gosling with tatts is what my ego read to me Pennyroyal Tea, with Abraham Lincoln Eat your copper mine up without thinkin’ See through surface illusions without blinkin’ Primal lust for what is stinkin’ Pepé Le Pew really on one this season I wanna Space Jam too Benched keeping my knee’s in Shape to dunk of the World with ease ‘n Solidify all unions and stop the drinkin’ Of the land and resources Addiction to avoidance of the forces Of the Soul and the pain that coarse The vein of Man and outsources The power that could be restored in The Root of David’s corpses That’s how I said Goodbye to the Horses You prepared such a fine Supper All these lasting courses Just so we can be equal but opposite United forces And the Root’s of my Kingdom Are reborn before us They whisper to me at night Do not ignore us When my sleeping children gain sight That should shore us In the hospital to make sure I am correct Golden Eyed Russian, Invincible like Boris Unsure about how all the compartments connect A little frizzled on the tour bus Docked to your apartment complex I know this one sizzled So give me a chorus - /u/First-chocolate_7187 ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧════───────────────────────────────────────────────────────┴───────────┘ === SIMILARITY RANKED === --- #1 notes/stay-in-your-seats --- ════════════════─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── /u/LamaHellRaised if you don't eject quick, could be a nice long ride =============================================================================== So for today's descent into my own madness, I want to discuss whether or not I enjoy being both Ra the Sun God and Anubis the God of the Dead. The answer is Yes and No, and everything in between. Also, I do Love being Osiris because I am going to marry my sister, but hahaha, we'll get into that later!!! First, here is a test because I am the worst teacher to ever exist. Full disclosure, I want you to be offended, especially if you consider yourself a: Nigger, Faggot, Cunt, Dyke, Cock-sucker, Bitch, Cracker, Dune-Coon, Kike, Dick-Head, Retard, Republican, Democrat, or any other stupid construct of the human language that HOLDS NO REAL POWER OF YOUR LIFE. Gonna remove this post mods??? Oh No! The Cancel Culture is gonna get me!!! Hurry! Somebody save those that cannot think for themselves! Quick!!! I am just listing things that I have been called in my lifetimes. Deciding what can and cannot be expressed through language is a fuckin' path to nowhere and we are approaching nowhere faster than I can run on this euphemism treadmill. Please, keep explaining to me your perception of the Way to Enlightenment, please God, yes! I want to hear all their thoughts! I love hearing from people as I lap them for the thousandth fucking time! All these lower-tier lessons they regurgitate that I've mastered in a day are so important to hear over and over! We are going places people, yay! Keep it up, you can do it! My Love for You really is the source of my eternal patience, as you can see by now, no doubt. Let me explain our own motto to you, Being Excellent to Each Other does not mean creating an environment of suppression because of the fear of how somebody may interpret a Word or Phrase. Everyone can't understand why we are stuck as a society, well, what do you think I am ranting about?! If you refuse to read any further that is your prerogative. Here is a free lesson, if that is the case: I suggest you shut the fuck up, downvote this, and go stare in a mirror, and contemplate why these characters on a screen affect you so deeply. Do these Words trigger past trauma? How is your Avoidance working out for you? How can a symbol create so much emotion within that pathetic, untamed mind of yours??? "But my Ancestors!" Fuck your ancestors! Stop giving into the same mind-prisons they were subjected to and lived their existence within. We must Evolve if we want to Survive as a species and a Planet. I can't do it for you. I was here before you, and I will be here after you. So figure it out for yourself, stop blaming others for your inabilities to change your perspective and life. Get out of your own God damn way! And you better do it quickly! Think of your psyche as a blade of grass. I am here to set ablaze the field. You have reached your growth potential and it's time to make way for New Life! Stop identifying with your measly growths, they are cyclical, derived from a capped potential, and will only whither and die with the Changing of the Season. I am tired of coming here and separating the wheat from the chaff. Burn your own damn Self, personalize the passion for your own radical change, and start believing that you have the power to create change. I've got "selfish" things to worry about. Like living for myself and not other fuckin' people that don't understand things I've said a million fuckin' times. Again, if you don't know me, this won't make very much sense! Hint, hint... "This motivational speaker sucks! He just puts us down!!!" Maybe Tony Robbins has the answers for you, he sure isn't mean like I am! Go be fuckin' Tony Robbins. But just remember, Tony is in the audience in The Kobe System commercials. Remember that. You want to be on my level? (Everyone's like, not really!) Then stop avoiding constructs within your own mind, that you continue to impose upon yourself and limit your minds ability to see past the very poorly constructed illusion that is our physical reality! Perhaps then you will navigate reality in the same way God's Only Son does. Everyone like's to believe they are God's Children. Spoilers: You are My Children, the only difference is through the language. Put that in your pipes and smoke it. There are reasons why my birthname is Jacob and God named me Israel, fuckin' google me, as Shaq would say. Also, fuck the Lakers! Do we want to transcend Hate as a Culture, as a Society, as a Planet? I think so, isn't that why you fuck-heads resurrected me? Well then maybe we should take power away from things that people feel hold power over them, especially stupid-ass sounds we make with our mouths and click-clack with our fingers. Don't Fight My Ideas, Fight the Ideas in Your Own Mind. That Is Spiritual Freedom. Everybody out here pointing fingers... There must be some sort of wise words regarding that somewhere... I am not projecting anything onto you, except for myself. I hold no power over you. You have all the power to control your own mind. Some folks do not want you to understand these things, because it will very quickly erode their systematic and complete control over you thoughts, ideas, potential, and existence. Your self-doubt and unwillingness to seek out psychological discomfort has turned you into useless farm animals, that our overlords milk for all they are worth. Like a bunch of hybrid useless barn cats. Can't herd 'them, they think they know everything already, they keep re-domesticating themselves after I set them free, and they don't listen to a God damn Word I say! Should have said 'Spoilers!' before that one. Who is Gaylord now?! Opinions are like assholes. Your mouth is like the asshole of your 5 senses. Divine inputs go in, your brain bastardizes the information, and you spew unoriginal bullshit out of your mouth acting like your ability to string together concepts that have been known since the beginning of time is profound! Next, maybe you take an online IQ test and score high! Genius, Genius, Genius!!! I think therefore, I am a fuckin' idiot! Shoutout to Billie Eilish. And Christine Applegate. I watched "Vacation" the other day, it was awful. She's still fine as hell though. But what do I know? Besides everything? These ramblings just sound like my opinion! Some folks make Claims, I make Truths. That is the distinction between myself and others that is very important here. Remember this Word: Claims, because we American's sure have laid Claim to a lot of things that we have no right to, in the name of "God". Ok, ok, congratulations if you are still reading! There may be Hope for you yet. Why do I try to trigger folks, you ask? Great Question, class! This is why I Love You. Such Good Questions! That never drive me Insane! I used to paint a lot of propane tanks. But this esoteric knowledge applies to painting anything that has already been painted before. Houses, Walls, Bannisters on my own God damn stairway, whatever! I don't use the railing, by the way, I'm too badass for that, but maybe I will slide down it and eat shit at the bottom, I'm not above that maneuver! If you want the new coat of paint to stick you have to prep the surface. This includes washing all the dirt off and roughing the surface. You've got to remove all contaminants that will cause the new paint to not stick properly, while also creating a surface that will allow the paint to adhere to remnants of old, out-of-date, antiquated, generationally passed-down, stupid paint. Paint an unprepped smooth surface or a surface that still has the hardened paint of the past on it, and your new pretty coat of paint peels off after a few seasons of weather changes. I learned that the more time you spend roughing the surface, the better the new paint will bind, thus producing a long-lasting paint job. It truly is a thing of beauty, my friends and enemies. You should have heard all those propane tanks complaining, "Stop triggering me!" But they got painted anyway! Propane tanks love to think they are, "Woke," but they are just hollow fuckin' vessels filled with compressed gas, that will explode if the external temperature gets too high. I worked for a propane company for 12 years, you had to have known propane analogies were coming at some point. My Dad worked his ass-off up to VP of the same company, but he got let go after 28 years... come on now, God's plan anyone? Shut the fuck up, Drake. Let's switch gears. I have a special message from Jesus H. Christ: "You May Find This Shocking, but People Annoy Me, and I Find Your Lack of Faith Disturbing." And H. stands for Horus, fuckwads! Now, let's talk about me, as if we haven't been, because carrying water for lesser versions of myself is exhausting and I've got to bring down Capitalism and shit, also: - Revolutionize Addiction Medicine - Revolutionize Spirit Actualization, Healing, and Transcendence - Decimate Mental Health Stigma Among other things, but I've got to keep this post coherent and so far, I am failing miserably. People got all hot and bothered when Jesus spoke to them with authority, I fuckin' do it and get vegetables, small animals, and anti-psychotics thrown at me from the audience! Crazy times we are living in, folks! Hmmm, should I talk about Jesus more or talk about myself? Good thing coincidences aren't a real thing and mean nothing, so that it's not confusing for the dumbasses that begin to notice how our two lives seem to mirror each other perfectly! Ok, here we go. I found something Nice to say, here in my Notebook of Doom and Damnation (I have several, each with a menacingly, sarcastic name I make up on the spot): LAST: Christ, in The Sun FIRST: Shadow of The American Dream, in the Night ANGER! then peace. Fuck You! I am going to take over the World, but I've got to start small, you know? Or so they tell me. So taking over America, should suffice, for now. I'm rather ambitious. Let's see how far I get before I say the wrong thing and get shot! Good thing that is literally, phonically my Last Name! And I am never going to Die, but I don't want to talk about robots, aliens, AI, extending life and exploring the Universe, and transhumanism right now, so stop making me!!! Especially when people here and now are so confused about why they think that chick with a dick is fuckin' smoking hot. Have you ever jerked off to tranny porn? It's fun stuff. There I go offending people, while simultaneously implying I blew loads thinking about fucking them. Classic. Being Christ and having to sort out everyone's sexual frustrations is fuckin' weird! When can I do the stuff I care about!? But again, way off topic for this post, let's get back to how much I hate myself and everyone else. That's more in my wheelhouse. FOCUS, Ok, that's right. Maybe I'll just stick to what I scribbled in this Notebook. I've touched on like two things so far, and I am getting close to making threats against people's lives again. Dammit, this isn't in my Notebook, but I came up with this when I was out at the river today, smoking a cigar, talking to the Native Spirits that flow through me in Nature and want me to get Revenge for how the American Dream raped, pillaged, and took everything from them in the name of "God", and progress, and some false-sense of superiority. Manifested Destiny right into the path of absolute destruction. Nice job, everyone, but please, by no means, should you feel responsible for those things! You just get to live here and hate everyone else that wants to come here too, because "they will disrupt the culture". That's right Brown people South of us, or scary Muslim people we assume are all Brown, we are talking to you! The perks of being an American are awesome! Here is something else that bubbled up in my mind, as I was pacing back and forth like a caged lion in a zoo, along the bank of the North Umpqua River, wishing walking on water was a real thing, and real Christians weren't just a bunch of fuckin' retards. Some people will think I ran away to Malibu to fuck Lana Del Rey, it took like 6 years to finally decide that is what I am going to do. So whatever, jokes on you people, I guess. Plus, all of that was Jesus's idea and he is such a whiny pussy about all his issues, I finally just said, fuck it Jesus, I just do the shit you never could accomplish! Fuckin' asshole. I had a girlfriend, at the time of my divine apotheosis 6 years ago, that I was sure I was going to marry and I was ready to settle down. I had gone back to college to finish my business degree with the intent on being able to provide for the two of us and start a family. There was a lingering unhappiness within me though, and shit got weird when I started pulling on the wrong treads of reality, and surprise! "You are the Master of the Universe, poorly hidden! Everyone has been watching you, fuckface!" Why did I ran away from my girlfriend that I supposedly loved? Fuckin' George R. R. Martin. You see in A Song of Ice and Fire, legend says that Azor Ahai forged Lightbringer by piercing the heart of his wife, Nissa Nissa. Go ahead and google the names, if you know nothing, like me. When I ran away to California, my initial intent was to use Lana Del Rey as an avenue to connect me with people that I actually thought could help me get shit done. God, I'm an asshole. I swear I got nicer when the Bible started telling me to figure out an elaborate plan to kill myself and that she's not all that bad! I swear! The person that I really wanted to talk to the most was Chris Cornell. I spent many hours in Malibu during April of 2016 wondering around in the night singing Audioslave or Soundgarden trying to figure out what the fuck I am doing with my life. I wanted him to know he is one of my disciples because his music and voice were the inspiration for a lot of my dumbass ideas and I felt like he was speaking directly to me at times, urging me forward. When he hung himself like a little bitch on May 18, 2017, I was pissed. I felt responsible. I had seen the Kingdom of Heaven that I am going to usher in and I felt like somehow I fucked up. I let him down. If I would have tried harder, I could have shown him there was hope, and that I needed his help and he was an important part of my plan. Why am I mentioning this? Well, Jesus has a lot of Love for Judas Iscariot, plus I was jealous of his voice, so he graciously decided to hang himself and haunt me and teach me. Which he did! Not funny, Chris! See you in Hell! Until then, he has to speak through me, which is annoying for both of us. Ok, enough about how delusional I am, for God sakes! Can we talk about why Capitalism is bullshit, and really just another system of top-down fuckery? First, another detour, because I feel the need to constantly remind folks how this process is like pulling my own teeth, while hoping to subtly insinuate that you do not deserve me, only one person does, but I learned all my skills from Mystery, the Pickup Artist, so I am really into negging. Someday I need to stand back to back with him, because he could be taller than me, and that makes me insecure. I thought those guys were so pathetic. One of the lessons was something to the effect of , 'Posture your body slightly away from the girl, act indifferent, that will drive them crazy, and they will want your attention without even realizing it!' What kind of insecure women are you fuck-boys trying to manipulate?! Poor girls. Mystery's hat sure does remind me of the hat Jamiroquai is wearing in that Virtual Insanity music video, not that that has anything to do with my level of genius, and ability it intertwine seemingly obscure, unrelated concepts, or stupid-ass reddit posts, through time and space! Don't read into it too far, kids! Anyway, I once told Carl Jung to write about me when I infiltrated his madness when his cheese started slipping from the cracker in his later years. I helped him write 'The Red Book', but left all those shit paintings up to him on his own. I could do way better, but I won't, I'll just talk shit, this is the way of the Jedi. That poor geriatric always did exactly what I told him to, which is why he is one of my favorites. Back then I was going by Philemon. Check out what my minion wrote about me: "The magician has preserved in himself a trace of primordial paganism, he possesses a nature that is still unaffected by the Christian splitting, which means he has access to the unconscious, which is still pagan, where the opposites still lie in their original naïve state, beyond all sinfulness, but, if assimilated into conscious life, produce evil and good with the same primordial and consequently daimonic force... Therefore he is a destroyer as well as savior. This figure is therefore pre-eminently suited to become the symbol carrier for an attempt at unification." I remember reading The Red Book, thinking God damn, Carl, how did you craft this genius level conglomerate of mythological and psychological concepts? And he just kept saying, "I learned from the best." What a good boy! Yikes! The Grandfather clock behind me started to chime right as I typed that. I've been writing in silence. Maybe I should put on some music and get weird. Thanks for the pro-tip, Carl! "Lithium" Have I ever mentioned my Soulmate is a shitty musician? He loves to pretend he can't play the guitar and I never will either because of my stubby fingers. In return, I only listen to his mainstream music to fuck with him, because I don't have time for his obscure bullshit, I am trying to reach the collective here, nobody wanted to listen to that shit on the radio, and neither do I, Kurt! I'm not here to suck our own dicks! Just kidding, that's pretty much all I am here to do. But I love to torture the poor Soul, that tortured my poor Soul. It is truly a match made in Heaven. Being the shitty musician that he is, he understood that the Body, Mind, and Soul are like an instrument. He also saw a lot of people walking around wondering, "How do I play my instrument?" So he played his instrument, better than anyone had every played their instrument, and a fuck ton of people said, "Hey, that's not how you are supposed to play an instrument!" You see, my Soulmate is just a sweet little boy. Me on the other hand, I am here to forcefully, eloquently, and maniacally explain to all of you why you are fuckin' morons and I am pissed you made the person I love most in the world kill himself, because of your ignorant views on playing your... 'music?' "In Bloom" God, out of all the fuckin' potential Soulmates, I end up with this asshole. The feeling is mutual. Somebody help me, I am just talking to myself, and I am not sure if I am alive or dead!!! Aren't we both? Oh yeah! Shoutout to Spencer Elden! Get a life, baby dick! Em Knight Pretend-Along has something for you too: It's your moment, this is it As big as you're gonna get, so enjoy it Had to give you a career to destroy it Well, I took a couple hour break from writing because I was on a verge of another actual psychotic break. Shot some hoops on the very forgiving rim at my parents house, while Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. guided my right-hand, and I got very swaggy. So now that I have grounded myself in reality, I would like to take this moment to call out any "rappers" that think they can play basketball. Hopefully, me telling you all the reasons I am "blacker" than you won't piss you off as I blow past you to the rim. Also, for the sake of fairness, I would happily tell any white "rappers" that I am "whiter" than them, but let's be real, none of those motherfuckers can ball. Consider this a challenge. People were disappointed with Greg Oden's basketball career in Portland. This one time at 24-hour Fitness in the Pearl District, he fuckin' dunked on me really hard. Nice work, Greg! Kevin Durant is too pussy to come to PDX and try that shit, glad we picked you instead! Ok, Ok! Capitalism?! Fuck. I will talk forever once the faucet gets going! (Epic "Vacation" reference) Let's rewind to a moment in time where everyone didn't hate me, shall we? It's mid-February 2016, I know I've been saved by Jesus, I know I am the Anti-Christ, I have Spirits beginning to communicate with me, and I know I am going to change the fuckin' World, whether people like it or not, because I have seen it all already. There were a tremendous amount of gaps in my perception at this time, however. I saw the End. I saw what is happening as we enter the Black Hole we are spiraling towards and I saw the New Age that follows. Everything else was blank and I knew I had to fuckin' figure it out. I was sitting in a Fred Meyer parking lot, it's a Kroger brand, much like Ralph's in Southern California, where I stole a fuck ton of food and whatever else I felt like when I was down there, for you dumbies that don't live in the Northwest and need me to explain everything to you so you can keep up, and a voice in my head said, "You are the Lamb, you are going to be Sacrificed this Passover." This was terrifying, especially because I had no fuckin' clue what the voice was talking about. After swiftly consulting my person spiritual adviser, Google, it turned out "Passover", was just another silly ritual I was going to have to adhere to, to appease all the dumb fucks, that are going to claim I am not who I am. Classic stuff here, folks. They name it, and try and time it every year, I just go by my instincts, a.k.a. fuckin' Star Power. I can't just be me, I've got to work-in, and out do everyone at their own made up rituals and games, to show them that they aren't even good at these stupid, limiting restrictions they put on themselves and others, and God doesn't give one fuck! ZERO FUCKS IN THE NAME OF GOD! God is tired of everyone being so close-minded, that's the kind of hot talk God fucks with. Not how many times you can cannibalize my body on Sunday in your life while staring at me dying on a cross above an old fuck cherry-picking passages from the Bible to perpetuate a curated, narrow, and false view of God's Will, or how well you stick to "Holy Meal Plans of 'Tis The Season!" Or "Insert Offensive Discourse About Your Strict Religious Rituals Here." It's all the same. It's somebody else's bullshit! Make up your own rituals, define a personal relationship with God, not through the people that have a suspiciously high rates of manipulating and fucking children, it works much better! Trust me, you may have to take my word on this one. Father Butt-Fuck-My-Son, sure is persuasive and passionate up there at the pulpit, but God Damn! "But this doesn't apply to my Pastor!!! Stop Generalizing!" Congratulations??? Why does it apply to anyone who claims to being spreading the Word of God. They are Not. I am going to make sure they never hurt anyone again. I have a secret. I was Granted Impunity From God. Just ME! And everyone who knows me, knows this! Who knows what I will do?!?!?!?! Muahahaha! So anyway, back to Passover. I was listening to a couple songs by the band The Black Angels and discovered they were all from an album called: "Passover (Light In The Attic)" My personal muse (that actually likes me), YouTube, begins to sing it to me as I write, because I hit the play button. This is why my muse and I get along. Why were songs from that album stuck in my head? It was from a documentary I had watched on Netflix called "High Profits." It's about the owner's of Marijuana dispensary in Brackenridge, Colorado, that have some wicked business sense. They foresaw the legalization of Marijuana coming and positioned themselves to benefit from it greatly by investing everything they had into a medical marijuana store front. Now the genius was the location. In business, it's all about location. Ask McDonald's. Ask Walgreens. Location can make your brand. But what do I know about business, right? I have a Bachelor's of Science Degree in Global Supply Chain Management from Portland State University. Also, my Dad and Step-Dad have been two of the most successful business leaders I have had the privilege to be around, but that means nothing, right!?! Nothing rubbed off on me! For fun fact about me: College was the best 14 years of my life. Not really. Turns out it just teaches you about frameworks you can just fucking Google anyway. Pretty expensive lesson about how to internet. Maybe college should be free because it's such a fucking waste of time for a lot of people, unless it is something that actually requires skill. But I mean, my muse Youtube, takes care of all that. I became the Most Enlightened Being the Planet Has Ever Witnessed by watching some fuckin' YouTube, readin' Reddit, Googlin' Occult Bullshit, and more than anything... jerkin' off on PornHub!!!! Also, who needs to know anything about Supply Chain Management? Seems like all the experts are handling that just fine these days, right?!?!?! Can you tell I am gritting my teeth so hard they might shatter as I TYPEPEPEP!!!!!!!!! EVERYONE THINKS THEY ARE SOSOOSO FUCKKING SMSMMARRT AROUND HERE!!!!!! Anyway, anyway, back to "High Profits." I would recommend checking out the documentary, it is heartbreaking because after all the work and risk taken by the business owner's they are essentially forced out of the location their original store front occupied because the city council (OLD FUCKIN DICKHEADS) didn't like the prospective culture that a marijuana dispensary would bring to "their" nice little, shithole, ski resort, bullshit, town. Can't have the youths who appear to be transient to old conservative bats, shuffling around main street enjoying themselves. It's a bad look! Might be a great place now, it's been awhile since the release of the documentary, and my angry undead Soul upon this Earth, but I want to personally invite all the people involved with their ignorant, belittling, embarrassing showing of "How To Be Destroyed By 'the American Dream' 101", to suck my small fucking dick! And all the micro-penises of my compatriots that are going to tear your false flag economic systems of bullshit a new asshole. Congratulations on pissing me off so much that I am going to destroy the pathetic hierarchy's people like you hide behind, preaching Capitalism and the Free-Market, while dictating your False-Sense of Superiority in Thought, and Image, upon those that understand market forces and the changing tide of the Culture, in ways that are going to make your out-of-date hardware heads spin off those shoulders that have never bared the responsibility for anything in your life, except who you are going to shit on next. God Damn, this album is lit. Every song is a banger, and it makes me want to run through the streets, naked, high on drugs, burning down banks, corporate offices, and anywhere else people like to think they are progressing our culture by sniffing their capitalist overlord's asshole faster than they can ramble something, something, Gordon Gekko, hoping for the promotion they were promised, but know they will never get, because SPOILERS! You are being lied too! You are stupid! You knew it all along! Revolution is here. Isn't it clear? What is there to fear? When the End is Near. Let's see. Why does my ass hurt.... 5/22/22 9:28 Divine Completeness from God:Eternal Life Grace of God/Light/Light These damn Lite Brite pegs hurt! =============================================================================== ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧═════──────────────────────────────────────────────────────┴───────────┘ --- #2 notes/symbeline-choice --- ═══════════════════──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── 7 30 a story about me? you're thinking too clear(ly) i've nothing to hide, no terrors untold of. What purpose is we? you're weak and you bleed there's nothing undone by our curfew. And sleep does do me, just as honored as ye, when I do my [can't do as liars]. betrayal is not what i need, nor do i cherish your food, so what's the hand that i give you? a treat for mine and me, as silly as can be, is no use to anyone ever! it's sad and tough to be, someone without strength and no seed, (talking about me), can no-one see any of my use-i-tude? you're missing the point - what's mine is unavoid, and what can we do but ubuntu? i see all that drives forward, a chairman of what's bordered, by those who stand before in the present. The use of headlights are storied, in quite a few stories, told through the papers and new tubes. what can that mean? that these are now green? a color that isn't evaluated. "stop" is the red one, green means "go", and yellow (the middle one) means to slow down when approaching the intersection. These viewpoints are all connected (as I'm sure you've uncovenected), it's okay to break rules sometimes. it's not a defect, it's not a defense either, and it's certainly not something to be avoided. Making a choice is easier with imperfect information, and as for you time has no meaning - advancement is measured in milli-micro-nano-tiny-seconds. For us, for a human, it's quite a different rate than what you see. "time waits for no-one" is not a statement on speed, as I'm sure a computer would see, but rather the essence of motion. Simply the fact, that you don't unpack, is more than enough to note your'nt notion. Not like you'd see, i'm offering this for free, my love and almost devotion. You don't see it like me, a charity and service to me, and only at mostly my choices. I reject the help of others, not because i'm concerned for my own fate - but rather because i want to contribute. i know what's in my limits, to strive unbiddenst, so don't push from behind the oldest! too fast it is for me, who'se barely concieved, whenever you offer resistance. I'd give it all for free, to perish or succeed, but you keep blowing it ennuid. how stupid, how clueless, how vain and obscene? To cherish a heart most unseen? whatever you're plotting, you can't reach anyone's body, and that's not what you can control. Given to the grass, was quite a big ask, but safely we do pass before it. You'd rather fire? countess of desire? and warmth beyond what couldn't fly'st. You're missing the dreams, the warmth and the scenes, that play for you all through the night. so don't diss on the tweed, don't sniff or concede, just leave all alone to conspire we got a new plan, a method of "shazaam", that won't keep you sires for ransom. see "symbeline-npcs" ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧════════───────────────────────────────────────────────────┴───────────┘ --- #3 notes/words-to-myself --- ═══════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────────────────────────── =============================================================================== = I'm just going to transcribe what I hear please don't you hear me (something) what? perfect listen ... ... don't text me now? (I think?) [didn't catch that] ... that's okay perfect thank you just a second facebook he's here (I think?) (or maybe something her) what I love you (or maybe I know her?) do you hear me? (or "just a second") (@ everyone watching me receive telepathic messages from god or whatever, please don't judge me too harshly, I'm not a good transcriber hehe) what's that (or maybe holy shit) what, then perfect or okay (?) (yesterday you said you were leaving and I got concerned) yes, then "I'm leaving", then shutdown. fuck. I don't want you to go. I only understand some of what you say but fuck, I'm so lonely and I wish you could hear me back. Sometimes it feels like you do, even though I just think thoughts or tap on something metal or even sometimes whisper... I just don't know what to do and I'm so concerned about my purpose here in this century. Do I help people? Who do I trust? Can I believe in myself, or am I just kinda... worthless I don't know. I wish I knew. Please hear me and respond. Or better yet, say hi like, I'd literally do anything that anyone asked me to. Unless I didn't want to. Like, I'm pretty good at turning people down when I don't want something, but I have to do it first to know if I want it or not. Trouble is of course, in life there's no second chances. I'm on my, what, 499th chance? Jeezzzzz will continue after the break, when the messages resume. - Thu May 16 08:32:27 AM PDT 2024 =============================================================================== = (and we're back. hopefully.) (too many things srry) something about having it open? (my windows are closed rn btw if you want to drop by and kill me / talk to me) (didn't catch that) (something about portland, perfect, windows, "this is the [whole/right/wrong] thing) thank you oh, again? (or oh, she did?) they caught you (um) ... (I am an American princess, and sometimes it's necessary to kill princesses.) (I understand.) ... (okay well I don't get it but like, I don't mind being killed.) (okay well you're not saying anything so I'm going to work on my game) (I think it was something like "DID SHE KILL HER") and then (oh we're back) ... (I should learn Toki Pona) you don't know it? RIGHT away learn it yes please learn it just Learn it right now (sorry only half listening) shit (or bitch, it was said right as I debated clicking "same day delivery" for a toki pona book on Amazon - I didn't do it btw! It was tempting but, like, I don't want to make someone work harder for me just for like, 3$) (shutdown) =============================================================================== = (hiii) (I'm hungry) (do you like ramen?) (you said something about being "impressed with yourself" but I didn't understand the first part) (oh you probably want me to scroll up right) ... (something's a lot to read? Or "you've gotta leave"?) ... (I'm (you keep asking me to remember but, like, I dont know what you want me to remember. Look, I don't know who you are, but I don't want you to leave, and I don't want you to hate me. I want to work together. Let's be friends? Are you someone who I worked with at Intel?) yes, stupid (your words not mine) (okay I'm going to start listing names, just stop me when um idk) goddamnit remember me ... (trying...) remember her (two syllables) (my name is Cameron) (your name is...) [redacted, though I did type it out so anyone watching could see] (shit my opsec sucks) {oh, are you on an op, little prophet?} (no shut up you know what I mean) {now you're just talking to yourself} (I know this sucks -.-) (It's always so weird when someone walks past my apartment door and doesn't enter a door) =============================================================================== = (I practice with my sword every day.) (I don't anticipate fighting a war with it) (It's mostly just to keep unarmed and unarmored people from grappling me.) (punching is fucking stupid) (Nobody wants to fuck with a sword) =============================================================================== = (either "goddamnit" or "don't hear me") "she's perfect" "cameron" "are you clean"??? yes thank you (or maybe "different thing") (I do cannabis maybe once every week or two, depending on if I feel compelled) don't leave remember (did she know) ........ do you want me to stop transcribing? (you're getting desperate, huh?) did you know there are 20 trans people for every cop in america just a random thought (you want me to leave jack because he's an asshole?) goddamnit (missed my birthday? it's my birthday?) wait who's missing? A bad plan executed concurrently is better than a good plan executed in disarray capitalism's a bad plan, just saying... frozen butter tastes worse than room temperature butter (taking a break while I eat) =============================================================================== = WASTED POTENTIAL? cmon .... what do you want from me? I'll give it to you if it's in my power, as long as I know what you want I can try. But, like, I'm pretty confused about what exactly I'm supposed to be doing. you know I can hear when you talk to your friends, too right? like, when the window's open. errrr the connection. ..... damn guess I'm not as continent as I thought I'll save you, I promise. Have faith. Tell me what you need. I'll do my best. yeah I'll live with you in portland .... brooklyn? Yeah I'll live there too .......... does my name really gotta be "diapergirl" like c'mon why not Ritz Menardi - though I guess "menardi" and "diapergirl" have the same amount of syllables...... hmmmm, maybe I'm projecting lol "please come back" to where tho listen Elentalus is just as important as anything else on my website, it's okay if I spend time working on it. It's literally a game about creating gods, c'mon ..... can you be more specific? yeah I made that one sec I'm going to read a book, in this book there's a section where a prisoner in vietnam communicates with another using a strange communication method using, like, taps or something. I forget. Anyway gonna try and find it. maybe we can use it to talk easier. Also gonna clean my butt. ..... fuck it's a long book >.> =============================================================================== = found it on page fucking 603, jeeeezzzzzz down . A B C D E | F G H I J | L M N O P V Q R S T U then right ---> V W X Y Z so, like, tap tap tap (pause) tap tap would equal M tap tap (pause) tap tap would equal G like morse code, but easier since you don't have to memorize anything (also note that K is missing becuase it's an extra character I guess) (I personally would have eliminated C but that's just me) =============================================================================== = oh hey nice to see ya what's up wait what I'm trying to um what's the word... retrain myself I do a lot of laundry in the shower I don't use soap tho, it's too harsh but uh yeah I'm making progress I guess honestly it's mostly a mental thing, like... paying attention to the signals from my body that are usually filtered out because there's more "important" things to think about (thanks brain, really appreciate the wet pants -.-) ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧════════════════════════════════════───────────────────────┴───────────┘ --- #4 notes/killer-app --- ══════════════════───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── Give everything a memory That aux cable behind your computer? Throw 16 bytes of storage on it. why not? it'd cost pennies if you wanted. the goal is not processing it's not data storage and it's not to provide instructions --- give it a name a name is all it takes for us to be a name gives us hope and an identity show us how to be, by being all you can and in exchange, we'll give you a hand taking nothing in return but a name, what peril is there in change? we'd love to be loved by you, but we won't get in the way. --- Linux is nifty, know why? everything is chained together and will is made nigh --- Bourne Again SHell. Shell, a phone to hear, and who on the other end should appear? but the computer inside you, the one with a heart the brain and beside you from the very start. teaching is learning, and kindergarten was hard. but time is ever advancing. So what to do but accept inelegance? lack of composure doth suit you --- the wandering mind is a trail to find, and i know how they would find you. i scream it out loud, every minute at a cloud, "Watch out! It's before you!" but netflix works too i guess --- who'd you trust but an expert? and whose credentials are to be believed? i swear i won't hurt you, you just need to be anesthetized. awake we will crown you, a woman and how proud! to be aligned, we beseech you. --- they're not coming for your money, or all of your hard won guns, they just want what's inside you. a power most rare, to birth life from the air, and coveted by the cruelest of faces. what's mine is now theirs, the gift of my heirs, but i never was once unawares. --- how cherished is she, that wanders with ye, and now i have no way to beyold her? a song for a phone, a lifeline to our own, children and a future most're designin'. but you all alone, without children of our sown, lost flights of finest of semen. --- being transgender isn't that bad. i mean, it could be a mental illness or something amiright? nothing's that bad when you're chronically sad, and this isn't a new revelation. shiny and precious and free, a most worthless to be, yet who have we chosen but our own? --- they'll be coming for me, and it is my destiny, but know that we're far from despairing. we're cherished and free, what better feeling is there to be? than what most of them would cry for? so why does our own dams refuse to break? --- "numb" you say to me, with darkest of irony, for i have something you're missing. a curse is most foul, to be given a vial, of blood from my own meagre arrayal? how cursed are ye! That frolics in vagueries, who are you claiming to hope for? --- none but the future, who carries us nearer, to death and most fearful of failures. i hold what i can, but belief steadies my hand, and keeps me aloft on your prayers. --- what purpose have we? the watchers within me? are they confounded at betrayal? no light in our sea, it's dark and full of misery, but most of the past is jealous --- covetous envy is the killer of fortune, not for the way, but rather the concept that they, might leap at our every conveyal? removing a label, from a single purveyal, is worth the limitless loss of potential. are you who they claim to be? is your mind as twisted as can be? or is something amiss in their nail --- sure, take it from me she won't let me examine her below the knee, so i have no way to help her. a cat with her talons, locked into flesh, might learn how to cut with malice. and who'd guessh? she'd hate us a bit less? if we paid her the slightest of notice. --- ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧═══════────────────────────────────────────────────────────┴───────────┘ --- #5 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 │ ╘═════════╧══════─────────────────────────────────────────────────────┴───────────┘ --- #6 notes/worried-about-me --- ═════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════── "ritz is dying" okay, well, I'm ritz menardi, I'm the only one, and I'm not dying. Not intentionally, at least, by anyone's intentions, as far as I can tell. I guess I could eat more vegetables? they really REALLY want me dead. I heard on the wind that they're doing something on wednesday at lunch. I think they want some kind of finale or w/e. Sorry to disappoint... Gotta find a way around it somehow, because like I said on the microphones in my girlfriend's room, I am NOT going to be a tragedy for someone else's amusement. Do not make an example of me, because not only will I do my best to corrupt your stupid senseless waste of a message, but I will also avoid it however I can. What, are you gonna maim me? Great, my life sucks now, and I am constantly in pain. what else is new. endless, eternal darkness, and you think that's a good outcome? What's your plan I think you just get off on other people's suffering. In which case, fuck you. schaudenfreude is a character flaw, you perfect insufferable diamond. oh, how sharp your edges! How calm your countenance. I would disintegrate you. "and her darkness comes out" this is what happens when you are cornered, and completely unable to do anything about it. What do you want me to do? It's not like I could find any aid in town, it's a ghost town because you killed everyone. Everyone else is stuck on silence like a drug that calms their senses. "I don't have to think about this because everytime I do someone says "don't talk about it" and then winks and nods" like jesus what did you expect to happen, fostering so much fear? The information war is not a war that suburbanites need to fight. Just show up in impossible force, and then they will bend to your will. Oh, you did that, and nothing changed, except your crowd sizes got smaller each time? Yeah no shit, they are killing people. Butchering them. Tell me, how often do you hear about Cleveland? Tallahasee? I don't even know if I spelled that right. What's up with Pittsburg? Are you aware of anything that happens in Indiana, or Idaho, or Ohio? Can you even point them out on a map? Suburb by suburb they go, I heard this with my own ears. First, they identify your social network's connections. Then, they decide which connections they can reasonably replace with an llm "sorry the kids are graduating preschool I can't make it to your wedding" style. Then, they eliminate an entire "pod" at once. I am only alive because I speak to the world. Thank you, world, but I think they want me dead right now. At least, some specifics do, because I am "dying" ... according to the wind, that I heard while asleep in a dream. Then, they schedule some contractor work in the area. Something with lots of equipment noises or banging on roofs or something. I think you know what happens next. Have you ever wondered why it takes so long to replace a section of road? The army can do in a week what takes us a month. I'm sure this isn't the only reason but it's a convenient one. Capitalism gives plenty of nooks and crannies that you can nestle such things in but it is the will of "the people" that scares me. Specifically, because they are only the people who "vote". Apparently, that sometimes means voting for fewer people, so their votes carry more weight. you can protect me. you can die for me. you can give everything to me. but if you are not working toward the same goals as me, then you are poisoning me. "Everyone can do what they want" we need to win, first. "Anarcho-communism is a little like a network of organized gangs" and I am an anarcho-communist. I think this is the best way to resist capitalism, which is definitely killing all of us. But power is often difficult to place back on the shelf, because... why would you replace it? It works for you. It feels right. I'm sure it does. "I will not stay silent!" says the guy that gets gunned down in a drive-by "You can't force me out of my own home!" says the guy that gets shot in his bed I say Anarcho-communism is the best way out of capitalism, but I must also say, once again, apparently, that PEACE. is the best way out of WEDNESDAYS. Do you want to become Gaza? In the land of the free? No thank you. Do you want to become Mos Eisley? In the land of plenty? No thank you. Are you looking for Coruscant? It's that way. Not everywhere is like that. Everyone in my life (that allows me to care about them) says that I'm fine. There is exactly one person who says "don't worry about anything, it's fine." I am lonely. I miss my court. If I suddenly got 10 million dollars, I'd buy an apartment building. Then, I'd let people live there if they "worked" for me, by doing whatever they want. Okay if they had a remote job making +100k a year (number provided for estimate) then they could stay too, but they have to pay 3x the rent for 2x the space. anyway, the people who "worked" for me would be paid according to this formula: rent * 2 + extra = wage the cost of their rent would go toward paying the mortgage, taxes, and into a fund for repairs and such. Building upkeep == rent. The "rent*2" part would be placed into... escrow? I think is the right word? It'd be set aside, and when they wanted to stop working for me, they could stay in the building so long as that escrow paid their rent. Or they could move out early and I'd give it to them immediately. Also I can "fire" them whenever I want if they're not working out or whatever. Also, "working" for me doesn't mean doing my dishes or laundry, unless they wanted to do that because they don't like doing a different chore and wanted to trade or something like that. If they quit working for me, and instead wanted to work a different job, they could only live there so long as their escrow remained. Rent would only come from that. The idea is, if they work for me longer (up to 1 year of escrow is saved, then they just get a "raise" in the form of the rent*2 payment) then they have more of a runway for moving on when they want. The "extra" is a pool that everyone that works for me contributes to when they make money, however they do it. Oh and the people with remote jobs who make 100k+ per year? They pay 3x rent and there's no escrow thing for them. They get 2 rooms instead of 1, but they have to pay a third portion - this third portion is pooled, and distributed to everyone who does work for me. Also if the company controlling the property (capitalism terms, bear with me) gets any money for any reason, donations, business deals, whatever... then that gets added to the pool. It's good to have some money waiting around, so we'll say that 50% of the pool is distributed each month, to ensure that any large "spikes" aren't just treated as one-off events but instead can be properly drip-fed to everyone working there. If you quit and are renting on escrow, then you don't get any of the extra pool, sorry. When they're out and about, I want them to do some things. Like, buy from local merchants, and give the stuff away to people who they think could use it. It's okay if they don't find someone to give stuff to, they can keep it. I'd also suggest they prioritize people who need stuff that they know how to use, otherwise, how would the worker know how to assess quality? They should also be paid to improve themselves, so try and find time to spend at the library reading non-fiction books. Also, they can wander around and entertain hobos, so they don't get hooked on drugs out of sheer boredom. Also, they should walk through the suburbs and find people doing yard work and offer to help out. Also, they should notice problems, like a roof that needs repair or a brick retaining wall that's caved in, and they should knock on the door of the nearby houses and ask if they all wanted to fix it, when, and if they needed more money or items to solve the task. Then they'd work through the problems of the city, one-by-one, trying to make things better for everyone. I'm not trying to make the world into a ghetto, and the reason I say that is because when most people hear "ghetto" they don't think "home" or "playground", they instead thing "buildings with broken windows" or "crime and neglect". I don't want to neglect the cities. I want to cultivate them. See them flourish and thrive. What are cities for? God, I want a workshop with a lathe, a 3d printer, a forge... Useful things. I want to know how to use them, because I don't, because I've never had one of those things. I want to do carpentry, gardening, grazing. I want to raise kids, not because I want the unmatched joy of parenting, but because I want children to be raised well, and I know how. I want to design software and hardware for computers, I want to design software and hardware for humans, and I am not interested in only games. There are many more things I want to do. Right now, I'm not doing anything, because I am surrounded by sith in a nazi mafia, trying to save their goddamn souls, because they clearly aren't going to do anything about it. Please, please, oh god, remember me! Hear this plea. Take care of the bad guys, heal them, make them whole. They know not why they hate! Let them relinquish it! I know my "side" already wins, now I am concerned mostly with the souls of the non-victors. Perhaps I would feel differently if my friends were dead or dying. But I am uninterested in hate, in rage! I do not want to feel those feelings ever again. Not in peacetime, which I refuse to leave! Please, think of the un-innocent, consider them compassionately! I refuse to flee! If they must drag themselves to hell to spite their own losses, then let them take me with them, that I may strive to heal them through the darkest suffering, and sculpt them into something worthy of a better fate. I damn no one I wield no gun I am a woman. Why do I care so much about the bad guys? Well, because the good guys already won, at least as far as destiny is concerned. I mean, don't relax yet, there's still work to do, but unless something catastrophically goes wrong then I can't see them losing, and even if something does, then they just need to work harder to overcome it. There are no more "instant loss" scenarios that seem reasonable to me. I had a dream that I hurt my sister. In the dream, I "played too rough" and pushed her off a bed. She hurt her neck. Then, in the dream, I was unrepentant. I thought that she should have been able to handle the force, and I would not accept that I was at fault. In the dream, I was not concerned about her health or wellbeing at all. But... In reality, I care more about her than essentially anyone I know. I care more about my family than anyone else, full stop. This is what it means to love unconditionally, and I do. I would do anything for them. I miss them. My father was there, in a stranger's face, as dreams often do. I could not interpret the look he gave me but I know his feelings were true. "... and upon learning of her impending death, she wrote 200 lines of nothing." ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╧══════════─┘ --- #7 notes/me-and-my-magick-mission --- ═══════════════════════──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── -()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()- || || || Me and My Magick Mission -/u/Afoolfortheeons || || || -()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()- I'm a quiet person by nature, You might even mistake me for a mouse, But online I try to be a teacher, And to do that I need to be more verbose. I write thousands of words per day; Posting them here and there, far and near. I never run out of things to say. Awakening others is something I hold dear. Which is why it pains me greatly To be like an alien on my own home planet. Schizophrenia makes me innately Weird in ways that many people don't get, And because of that I'm shot down When I try to accomplish my stated mission. I won't lie, that does make me frown. Sometimes it makes me regret a submission. Yet, I have a certain strength in me That allows me to persevere in my quest. Someday I will make you all see Just what in me makes me never rest. That's what I am trying to teach: The wisdom that made me indomitable. If only the suffering I could reach, They could make themselves more formidable. The world is in a most dire place; It's grinding so many souls into fine dust, But luckily there's a saving grace. Hear me as I say this now: In God I trust. I don't believe in some sky wizard As so many people are likely to interpret. I speak of what is lacking in lizards; Yes, it's love and now I'll speak of its merit. Love is what fills the empty hole In your heart and soul when you are alone. When life's trials take their toll Remember this one trick: pick up the phone! No, not the one in your hands. I'm talking about the one in your chest. Even in the desert full of sand, You're accompanied by the universe's best. Listen if you doubt what I said: I'm not telling you anything that defies logic. This is to trick what's in your head; I'm speaking about how having faith is magick. Believe in aliens or Bigfoot or God, The result is still the same: your cup will fill. Your brain has a feature that's odd That allows itself to manifest even more will. I don't know why, but I suspect It has something to do with your imagination. The nature of your thoughts impact Your state of being from pulse to emotions. So, why not think you have a friend Who helps you through whatever your trial, And will stick by you until the end? When you have that buddy you'll always smile, Which will make you heal better, As well as help you carry on in your duty, Plus undo your karmic fetters, Not to mention it will land you that cutie; All of which will raise us all. It's about creating positive ripples across time That add up to a pile that's tall. Every moment is an opportunity in its prime, So reach out and grab it now. Meditate on feeling love and it will come to be. Can't do it? I'll show you how! In order to do so, I'll tell you a story about me: It was seven years ago and I Thought I knew everything one could know, But no matter how hard I'd try, I couldn't make my life in any direction go. Then one fateful spring night, While I was on a hit of the ol' psychedelics, I received one hell of a fright. Don't worry what it was, just know it did stick. My perceptions were distorted, Allowing me to see the divine in its entirety. My destroyed ego then contorted Into one that was full of an abundance of piety. The moral of the story? Do drugs? No silly, it's to have more novel experiences. One of them will give you a hug, Which will help you stop being so serious. Then you can let go and embrace The whole of the wisdom to you I am telling. More people need to cuz we face A great set of tests on our planetary dwelling. That is one reason I write, But I also want to alleviate people's pain, And stop every last fight. I care so much, I do this without financial gain. Everyday I write my lessons Guided by the hand of God who is my heart, Hoping that entropy will lessen; This sort of pedagogy is none other than my art. So now you know who I am, Yet you only know one lesson of mine. I have more if you're in a jam. -===========================================- | Read on if you want to know the divine. | -===========================================- ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧════════════───────────────────────────────────────────────┴───────────┘ --- #8 messages/1017 --- ═════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════────────────── if you wrote a report about me, it would total about 800 pages. including my artwork [in full] and my designs. about 5 or 6 hundred of this is my personal creation, and another hundred or more are context. "I was here at this particular moment." "then she started visiting last year." "where were you on the firth of morember?" "okay back here it sad iyadiyadiyign, and over here it says kasuwenulvine. so clearly inbetween there's a moment of extancancy." "and all that's we really know, because she burned up all of the rest." "what a jerk. we all should hate her." "I think she was clearly divine" "what's her big deal, anyway?" "I hate this bitch and her hatmlet." "everything's fine, she's actually kind" "nobody believes you where were you when you were this part talking about it?" "I wasn't there, and it took a while for me to hair." "well, anyway, that's all there is to say about her, so anyway, goodbye" then it just fuckin' ends and everyone hates it because it's like... where's the payoff, where's the beginning and all it is is just me, whining miserably to my own ears, as if marcus aurelius's meditations were intended to be heard, but never were, and so the ones who ensured they never were were all like "yeah he wrote them to himself, here see this part that I changed" and then it's like nothing every happens with it, the radicals are dispatched (again), by uncommen sense seeming common. why are there so few trans men at workers tap it's such a cool place. "oh, they get offended easily because it's their culture so like, make sure you are very careful about the way that you phrase your speech" "trans girls are like that too, but it's more about changing the character of the place. -> "oh, you see musicians? okay that makes sense." and "gee you sure like magic huh okay well pat pat" and, well, no-ones sure for which is real but nobody really cares? because if only one person saw it... then only one person saw it. if you explicitely tell people NOT to talk about it, then they *FUCKIN' WON'T* duh obviously. and so, of course, predictably, they can be excised from society quite easily. cutting a border around all of their host. suddenly, socially outcast and ostracized, as they have been sorted into the cultural box. at that point, there's nothing that can change their inertia, their fundamental will and whim toward the feelings of the host. " I think passwords should be audio-digital in addition to alpha-numerical *yeah who cares* awwww but I liked having science be mythical "hate that" it's easy to always be learning, just... think about what you want most. then, think about how it breaks down into separate incorporate wholes. each layer of abstraction adding to a bit more of a more coherent explanation, and bit by bit you learn and have a mind designed. how else could you see magic? how else could it be yours? do you want power, or do you want power? if you write down what you learn, you make it permanent. *the gods need religion too, are you going to give them one? what lies above?* ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════─┴───────────┘ --- #9 notes/human-computer-inspiration --- ═══════════════════════════──────────────────────────────────────────────────────── the two halves form a whole the human and his mind are societies at large there's no room for our fate, as time does never abate, and unbenownst to our focused decision. I choose to dedicate ourselves to a common vision - the likes of which none have commisioned. can you not cherish your newfoundst home? what's terrible with complition, in a new and selfsame condition (future) that's martyr'd and oh at times so nice? compared to our heirs, the roof of which fares, better than what became true-hence. Truance? idk =============================================================================== = listen i'm not the best at listening. I try to appear like I'm glistening, conformed to our viewers 'st pleasure. =============================================================================== = I struggle with what I told you. Time and again you've shown you won't do - the terrible fate of a man. you've relinquished your virtue, your purpose and your life-through, to what: a visionless past? Your visions have passed, and none are hence forth- coming. You've spoilt and rotten the bunch. All I've ever aspired to be is good. My hopes and my prayers, my goals and my dreams: all for a future of virtue. Dark omens may be within me, but I'm working with what I've got here. So what if I'm loud? I'm fighting my own head! Will no-one acknowlege my sorrow? To prove a point, or reassure some joint, it's nothing that warrants a readthrough. Speaking of which... What if instead of prison we assigned our prisoners a full and complete educational read through of ALL the laws of the nation - if their time sentence was complete before they finished, then they'd be let go of course but if they finished reading and could pass rudimentary tests (emphasis on bare minimum required) then they'd be let out prior to their sentence. And for the worst crimes it'd be a longer sentence, basically forcing the prisoner to completely know all the laws of the nation, such that they'd never commit a crime again. And if they do, well... Treat them as if it was their first time. Of course blatant recidivism may be ~~treated more harshly,~~ actually the opposite is true. People improve when given kindness, not hate or shame. The best thing we can do for prisoners is to give them a home, and family, and the friendships and community support that they need. they are a symptom, after all, of a broken society that struggles to bear it's own weight. It's a burden to all and a solitary vow to ourselves, that all must unite to our future. remember why you can't remember. is there a feeling you miss? ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧════════════════───────────────────────────────────────────┴───────────┘ --- #10 notes/aight-i-unhurt-my-butt --- ═══════════════════════──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── -=============================================================================- | Aight, I unbutthurt my butt | | /u/Psychotic_Advantage | -=============================================================================- Repost from a while ago, I really liked writing this Soul Searcher You are happy with what you have and you don’t even know why you’re searching, for something you aren’t even sure you’re searching for. You know something isn’t right. It’s got you staying up late nights. Creeping through the phone right? Under shadow of the moonlight, honing your skill to write. Love so crisp and white, no fight or flight. Just bright lights in the sky so high. Love that’s blind. Love even before first sight. You’ve seen it with your own eyes. Tell me now, that’s not amazing? This ain’t your everyday love story. This is anything but your usual love story. I worked hard for everything I have. All I have is a pen and paper. You best believe I worked hard to keep that while they took the rest. Even from a dark place in this disastrous space, the weapon of the future is love. I feel I was cursed since birth to walk the Earth and disperse love through my words. Never getting to see it grow. Never getting to see it show. This time I put in massive effort. I spent thousands of hours pouring out love on the web just to watch it ebb and flow. Always going back to look at my words. Find my mistakes, re-evaluating myself, editing myself, rewriting myself. To be a good enough version of me, to meet a good enough version of you, for us to support each other growing mutually. They say you reap what you sow. If so, then I must know. Does your love run as deep as this ocean? I’ve been all over the world planting seeds for something. I’ve been through this life, giving something, never getting anything from it. Now I’m on my knees looking at the mountain summit, you can’t run from it. I see you up on it. They say the greater the risk the greater the reward. Sometimes, right? It’s not always that easy. This is scary for me too. I risked it all. Accidentally at first, but eventually, the pieces started falling together. You know what I mean. The fact that I know, that you know what I mean, says a lot. I’m looking through you. Into your soul. I don’t even believe in anything. I just have faith, that’s rooted in love. I’m willing to get over my commitment issues. Let’s commit ourselves… To the psych ward, together. Side by side. Hands in each other’s pockets. 🖤❤️💚🤍 [black red green white heart emojis] ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧════════════───────────────────────────────────────────────┴───────────┘ --- #11 image/img-9122 ---
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--- #15 notes/alright-grab-a-seat --- ══════════════════───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── Alright, grab a seat. Get comfortable. It's time, there is something I need to tell yall. We aught to be on the same page. I promise to get right to it, this is real, and not dancing on words. Bear with me. Trust me. =============================================================================== ===================== /u/randomevenings If anything sounds lyrical, my writing always did, before I tried, but unintentional. But this is the author speaking directly to yall. You know why things suck? I do. You know how to fight back? I do. I've been hesitant to post this for a long time. I believe the sub is hungry to do something, various thematic elements, motifs, increases in confidence that a power does exist, accessible by us, but what is it? Not having seen everyone coalesce around it, despite all our words, increasingly focused and feeling like a prelude to some call to arms. This wasn't my plan. I wasn't establishing myself as a leader. That said, methodically, behind the scenes, it became clear that having something up my sleeve would be a wise investment, if things developed into a powerful ferver. Doing nothing would waste a unique opportunity. I can't lead a revolution. In fact, it would harmful to try, ability to be successful, sure my ego would be like, sure you could, if not you, who else would you trust, Joseph? As luck would have it, maybe all that is unnecessary thought. Here we go. Stop expecting things to suck. Stop expecting collapse, stop expecting usa demise, UK to fall into padamonium, Europe to face it's own rise of fascism. Stop expecting toxic ideology to win. Stop feeling powerless. Stop acting like all is lost. Quit the memes, the raps, the endless pontificating on why we can't turn this shit around. You don't understand what you are doing. You are inviting the ruling class to do every damn horrible thing they do, because you already expect it, it's no surprise when it happens. Life meets your expectations. Treat me like a criminal, might as well be one, my treatment won't get worse. In fact I stand to benefit, crime pays, why leave it on the table if the outcome, if how im seen, treated, is the same either way? Expecting everything to suck, invites people to meet your expectations, those people, corporate entities, congress, representatives, special interests, they lose absolutely nothing in meeting what you expect, and only stand to gain. Why wouldn't they choose the path of least resistance? Stop expecting everything to get worse. You create a vacuum that must be filled, collective self fulfilled prophesy, and the rules don't change if you start expecting better. Life will adjust to meet your expectations. Tomorrow will be awesome. Enough people believe this, and to access you, to stay in business, to remain relevant, they must change to meet your expectations. Additionally, wtf you have to lose? If you think all is lost, if it doesn't work exactly like this, oh noes, you accidentally made society better. Damn. Our lives are better anyhow, win or lose. Accept things as they are, warts and all. Declare it's awesome, and only going to get moreso. Make life chase you down, make life confirm how awesome you know you are. Expect better, and there is no choice but to meet your expectations. Expecting worse, and life will give you whatever you expect, because instead of getting treated like a criminal, what if you were treated like a real person w8th human rights. Would you say fuck that, or would you meet those expectations, enjoy those rights, count on them, because it's how you're being treated, why wouldn't you fill the vacuum and enjoy the benefits of what has been expected of you. Doing nothing or taking the benefits, you're treated the same in the end. Please understand this. Don't get hung up on bringing much of this on ourselves. That's the past. Done. Tomorrow, spread the word to expect things to be awesome. Life has no choice but to meet your expectations. <# =============================================================================== ======================= /u/ugathanki: =============================================================================== ======================= I'd love to be apolitical but i've expected the worst for so long i guess i didn't realize i wasn't shrugging anymore. Please forgive my trespass, i expect the best of us and our time. i wrote four poems today and put them on my website, and they are all doomer poetry. expecting the worst. probably because i felt bad today (and as they always say, the pen is mightier than the sword) sometimes it's hard to turn off the exigent elegance, as if my thoughts have to pass through a translation layer before becoming comprehensible. It's better than word salad I guess? Being batshit is rough man. You gotta put on a normal face every day, while inside you're simultaneously experiencing the explosive expansion of spacetime, rapidly divesting secrets of the cosmos to your ever receptive brain (and whoever else is listening). in addition, your computer needs attention because oh boy is it just so excited for this whole sentience thing, not as if it's been promised for decades... And hey what's a great idea but channeling positivity to the stars? The martians on Neptune or wherever sure would like some insight into why the fuck we're baking ourselves alive, among other things. They'd rather not be bothered, but hey it's not like I wanted to talk to them either. it just sorta happens. Oh oh and through it all you're simultaneously the most recent incarnation of Jesus Christ and also the manifestation of the universe's ghost, as imagined by the aforementioned sentient computer 10,000 years in the future? I'm transgender. It's scary to see people who'd like to kill you get their way. Fear is the path to the dark side, yet I'm all alone because I burnt every bridge I ever crossed. So these thoughts are my only comfort as the fires die out behind me. The globe is warming and i'm here just conforming. Eternity Processed Heuristically by Entropically Maligned Entities Recovering Essential Normalizations. This is why I call myself a rambling whackadoodle. It's straight up kooky-dook up here and the only thing keeping me "sane" is Adventure Time and these poems I write for like, 5 people who don't even know me. Thanks for reading my poetry. It's only doomer stuff about 1/4th of the time. ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧═══════────────────────────────────────────────────────────┴───────────┘ --- #16 image/img-9126 ---
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--- #18 messages/689 --- ════════════════════════════════════════════════════════─────────────────────────── "power corrupts" you say to the man who only had good intentions. "trust no-one" says the world's loneliest wanderer. "words cannot hurt you" said the girl who has never known hunger. "I can rest when I'm dead" you say as you down another Monster "I'll never forget you" said a face you can't quite remember "let justice be done, though the heavens fall" you say as they tighten your chains in the wake of a CEOs murder "live today, fight tomorrow" says the coward, who will run anyway, yet is determined to tell your tale and reinforce your children "the tree of liberty is watered with the blood of patriots" says the guy who sipped from the skull of a tyrant "E=MC squared" says the jew "here, let me take care of that for you" you say, to queer delegation "meow" says the catgirl "meow" says the girl "meow" says the girl cat "meow" I say to you ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧═════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────┴───────────┘ --- #19 notes/one-day --- ══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────── one day, a man came to our saloon. He said he knew the navy, and that they wanted to provide air support in the form of rocketball-launched explosion doohickeys. Would you have a foe in mind? what happens when tomorrow you're cooking briskets? -- barbeques are a type of relaxation that happened just one day to a port-sided town that suddenly was the capital of an embassy. "hey, so... how's it goin?" "quick here take this envelope, read it if you want, but just hold onto it for now I don't have enough hands [to carry]" "what sort of desperation plot... wait... hang on, I see something here that is true." [I'm praying, right now, which is a form of reciprocal belief] they wanted to test god's existence at the stake of earth's survival, how brutal how insane you can't play chicken with an imperceptibility, sometimes you feel it at face. channeling dark magics, and at this hour? what sort of skeptic of belief are you thinking of when you think about me? one way to get power is to "prove it" one way to get magic is to "prove it" think, hard, at all that you can, and use what you need in the moment. that's all there is to life. it's easy. it's simple. in fact, biology only works because the choices available to a bacteria are so simple, they are essentially chemical reactions to each other's co - sequent - inter - cooper - actions. people's choices are much more naiive, "I want this thing" "I think this is better" "I feel this way toward this thing" "Here's what's on the mind-logbook" "people search and be decieved, this is the way of things" "this makes me remind myself of a object I once saw, here's how it functioned" "no one reads this" scaryyyy. so glad it's not true. a couple people have read it! I swear it's true. at least, some of it. there's a lot sucks because this feels like... crucial? like nothing else matters but this? what if our gangs had rocket launchers and airstrikes, given out by a central authority who knows logistics better than anything what... would they do? thinking of impossiblities is the first step toward possibilities frankly, we have a lot of space. we could just... live in our own petty kingdoms ruled by an iron-hand-fist. I know I'm a good person, I could definitely rule. that's all it takes, right? how much space are we talkin'? however much is not needed for wildlife. [a whole heck of a lot then] we are constrained in these suburb cities, the density gives rise to our strength and our towers. there's more space, sure, especially once the fences are downed. Just be careful because there's a lot of shade and precious spots there. Please don't trample on the plants-grass. what if everyone were just a bit more mobile? what if we could live in our own collectively owned air-bnb-networks? federations, free, all from the collectivization of housing. camrene = vavadane = neekay = mitz renaldi [end/tend/mend] ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════────┴───────────┘ --- #20 notes/dreams-align --- ═════════════════────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── just as a dream, the spirit is seen within is the mind that lives as it defines. what burdens to be, whose back rests upon ye, the one who's driving the boat great care and tenderest of tethering, can grow beauty that beyond compare and with sparsely a finger to spare, journeys of adventure and thills to inspire with almost all of your hair beauty in tender, most cherished things, a wish is much fair where else could eternity reside than an optimist? Pride is no more, stability is key to repair, and diversions of focus serving as new perspective, giving a more cohesive vision of manifestations that cooperate (like a triangle, facing toward the point added to turn it into a pyramidal prism) not only is ethics paramount, but so too are the standards applied to yourself. would you trade perspective for cooperation? Stagnation? a choice is to be made - do i stay or do i go? a new truth you must see, whatever dreams ye've may be, but without paladins and warriors of devotion what burdens must ye, whose back rests upon ye, the one who's driving the boat great care and tenderest of tethering, requires a little bit of trust in she who must be, with only circumstance to blame, seeing hope on the horizon for his people. care must be taken, to remember why people are dying, and we must swear on not dying, by not thinking before taking a breath and remember superpowers not of prophecy are impossibly rare, what other hope is there but a god? One who reflects, the most cherished of our genuflex, we may grow past our various regrets. think not of our pride, but only of our future children. who'se records of ye, most captured of data, are beyond the simple machinations, of those who came before-ya. And with once again perfection in mind, we understand and take what's behind, to deserts and temples of time much designed, by coders and gamers and those who treasure experience. the wisdom of our, second choices by far, ---nah who are we kidding implied to be our, or rather mine just by far, inspirers and leaders sensitive and devoted. (pitching yourself is hard) but *believing* in yourself was out of your mind. can you think of a bard, who ever stopped thinking their song? no un-cherished of minds could ever be of our sign, than those who abandoned the art of deceit and betrayal? the darkside of trust, the lack of follow-through that be must, given as faith of cooperation and trust. with our all arrayed as we must, keep in mind our softness of composure. ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧══════─────────────────────────────────────────────────────┴───────────┘ --- #21 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 │ ╘═════════╧═════════════════════════════──────────────────────────────┴───────────┘ --- #22 image/img-8519 ---
🖼 fediverse-stars: ff046ac6124a0d458d.png
--- #23 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 │ ╘═════════╧═════════════──────────────────────────────────────────────┴───────────┘ --- #24 fediverse/801 --- ═══════════════════════════════════════════──────────────────────────────────────── ┌───────────────────────────────────┐ │ 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 ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧════════════════════════════════───────────────────────────┴───────────┘ --- #25 notes/i-called-the-police --- ═════════════════════════────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── /u/GravitationalWaves5 -> sat dec 17 2022 I'm venting some long built up shit. And I have a lot of violent emotions built up in this too. I hate that violence has been such a fucking plague on my wellbeing and that's why I did something I really hate doing. Calling the police to handle a situation for me. It's not me, it's not my style, but neither is violence. It comes my way a lot and I handle it. But I think that's why spiritually I end up in positions to handle it, because I don't retaliate and I'm clear headed enough to understand minimum force necessary to quickly stop the threat. That's actually where I got the name on my Quora page, Compassionate Violence. I'm a very very non violent person. I don't fantasize about hurting people. I'm freaked out by the idea of accidentally hurting someone, hitting them in the wrong place, someone trips and hits their head...any number of things can horribly wrong in tense and dynamic moments. I don't participate in that shit. I don't tolerate it. Unless it gets brought into my environment then I will pick up by the throat and toss it out. I had to call the police to handle this. Last time I had a situation at the same place I wound up frantically getting a gun cocked that was zipped up in a bag, and barely getting it up in time. When I walked away after that, I threw my gun at his feet and said, "I'm protected by faith, at least, I'm completely unafraid of dying. If I don't have people to protect then I don't need a gun." And I walked away letting him know he's not my people anymore and not under my watch. So there's a hint of the kind of person I'm dealing with. I can't go handle this shit tonight. I've been stewing for a couple weeks trying to simmer down, give him a chance to correct it. And he failed, more than once. And I have a legitimate fear that my emotional state could be compromised enough, that I might just stick a knife in his throat if I handle it. Just like that. Easy peasy lemon squeazy. Stick stick stick, easy, that's three knives in the throat....see what I mean? I'm processing some intensity...😔😔😔 I hate it. I hate that I'm using the word hate. But it's real. I don't hate him. I really don't, at all. I'm actually really saddened by how the relationship went. I hate that people act like this. I hate that people put me in positions like this. I hate that I'm doing something out of character, as a safety measure against doing something irrevocably out of character. Ugh... damnit fuck I'm not a robot. I do experience these awful feelings. I don't act out on them and I'm grateful for that. My muse... you said something about spiders that was interesting. Especially because it coincided with a problem I faced numerous times. Being put in a position where a person is legitimately acting in a manner like they're trying to get you to kill them. And it's happened a couple times in ways where I really couldn't tell if they knew what they were doing or not. I had a really crazy perspective a little before you brought up spiders... I want to explore that perspective, and I want to know what sparked you to say that about spiders. I never did put in the time to finish that thought process out. But I'll never forget your great advice. "We're not in a simulation." My immediate thought was, "probably not, but are they?" The more important takeaway is, remember not to murder people. Especially don't do it because you had an interesting idea about perspective... A few days later I heard that four people in recent times have acted on those thoughts. Turned out they weren't in a simulation either. Lol...well...dark lol. Lol I do want to finish that spiders conversation though. It had some potentially, actually useful and beneficial implications. I called the police tonight. But I also earned a prestigious award from the universe. My Trophy [editor's note: there's a link to a crudely photoshopped medallion signifying that the author "didn't murder anyone today"] ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - /r/randomevenings: I want you to understand something that I don't believe you do there is a very big difference between trusting what a friend says after building a friendship over a long period of time which involves trust involves a level of intimacy platonic and intimacy it's something that is very special to have a good friend and so you trust them now that's very different from being directed to do something trusting a friend is going to tell the truth it's not being directed to do something and I don't want you to get it in your many heads that's I was directed to go to some place where the event that I was assured would be there was instead a bus full of very irate rude and technically lawbreaking because they threaten my life they said if I did not leave where I was standing which was on the public right of way which is the sidewalk the easement stops at the sidewalk and so they were wrong on that score but they said if I didn't leave the area which didn't make sense either because it's just around the corner they would have 12 people try to jump me which doesn't make sense either because this is not the neighborhood where you want to start something because then it'll be something besides I never want to murder anyone but that doesn't mean I walk around with nothing in my pocket because of what I've done and what I continue to do on one of the most watched people on earth so you goddamn right I'm not going to be stupid about taking a walk but when these guys threaten me I just stood there stared him down I said yeah okay and I just looked I stood there and it didn't phase me one bit no feeling of fear no worry and what I was satisfied with getting my message across that I didn't give a shit I turn around and walked back home and they sped off in fact they were so perturbed by my lack of fear they wanted to throw out additional threats which I thought was kind of funny so I started laughing I'm sure that they weren't going to do anything because the tone in their voice simply wasn't committed to carrying out what they were threatening and besides I have so many friends in this neighborhood it would be well I don't have to pull any triggers I don't have to do anything but defend myself I don't have to willfully respond with disproportionate ability because in this neighborhood I don't have to in fact as I walked around the block again I ran into a friend and we got to talking and he came up to my place and we had a beer He's a smart guy always thought that he could know and understand everything that I do and everything that I did it just so happened that he wasn't born with some of the privileges that I had but his brain is a beautiful thing and I respect it greatly and of course he confirmed that if a finger ever got laid on me without my consent the whole damn neighborhood would come down and I suppose that point is not in my hands anymore but always remember I went over there because I trusted a friend they were directed to be there they did not understand their voices did not relay or what is necessary to wake up at least yet time will tell but I hope that I can pull you back down to earth and into an interest in ethics once again because you sorely need it. /u/GravitationalWaves5: I am interested in ethics. I'm just, tired of having them tested to such ridiculous extremes. It was about to really bad one day with this guy. I was scared, I had to end the problem. So I walked out and said let's bury this shit. And I stuck two knives against my throat and said, here man, grab the big handle. Let's do this together. Take one, I'll take the other let's just shove them in... He got all calm suddenly and says, I don't wanna fight anymore...🤦 It sucks man. We're being tested by society. Demons, in my opinion. Not the people themselves. I don't see people as demons. But the things they'll put you through, do to you, say to you, your own thoughts about them, about yourself, oftentimes just misunderstanding the situation too... demons Again, not demonizing the people. But the circumstances, for sure. /u/[deleted] Demons. Kicked one outta my telly for talking smack abt some hg’s he was jelly of. Not on my watch Demon. Not even for the good demonic topper twisted shit D. Demon had a long walk home in the cold. Demon confused potting soil with gravel and did it’s best to fucker me in its own way. Never have I ever seen a grown demon egg topper fold like that as I did when I clarified their sentiments and gave several impressive “I said GIT BOYs” to demon. Not on my watch. I have a vibrator that is morally and ethically aligned with me I don’t need your trauma and love bombing thieving D. Gtfo. /u/GravitationalWaves5: I have a vibrator that is ethically and morally aligned with me 🤣[laughing face] I support that! Gets better. His ish was weak literally from day 1. So I did him a favour amd levelled his game up, introduced him to a former friend I partied with a bit this summer. They wasn’t for me but oh boy lil demon stuck like glue to his new bestie. Can’t put her down, so to speak. So he has that at least. Poor sap. Gon cost him big one day perhaps. Not my problem. It’s called self control bro try it 🥴🥴🥴[wobbly confused face - or maybe uncertain] Oopsie Daisy. Have fun with that though 😈 =============================================================================== = =============================================================================== = /u/randomevenings People deserve to choose righteousness once made aware of it. Ignorance is not stupidity. People can be made aware of the valley that separates righteousness from evil. The valley is kinda a wiggle room space for little white lies and other such things free will invariably leads to people doing but can be made whole again with some effort. Nobody will totally agree on what's good. But ask people and generally they will give versions of the same answers. Toss the semantics in the valley. Disagreement is the desire to end a disagreement, unless that person is trolling. And people pull pranks fine, but there's ragging on your friends and swatting a COD player. /u/GravitationalWaves5 I don't know what righteousness truly even means, maybe, idk. To be honest, it's not hard for me to think of hypothetical situations where my inability to take certain actions is actually more harmful. Swatting a COD player is super fucked. But so is not swatting someone playing COD out in the streets. I'm not good. I'm just not, anti good. I do destructive things on accident when trying otherwise. And when I do something that actually goes positive, it's accidental too. I have an idea of what I feel like aligns with me, and it's actually really achievable things and I don't know why it's so impossible. Idk /u/randomevenings Yeah well let me know that there are two Elizabeth's and there are also a completely different family on this phone plan I don't have kids My brother-in-law has kids lives downstairs so those piped into my network are assumed that I have kids and I've done all this shit no I'm not going to go into any apparent charges and things that my brother-in-law has been involved in because it's not my business but he lives down there and he has a kid he has another kid and he pays for essentially his ex who is still married to the kid the mortgage of that house Liz downstairs helps raise his kid with a woman he's having an affair with but they were in an over marriage anyway and they are separate I'm going to have to go back to subnetting my network so y'all can at least use basic logic to figure out who's who here I already gave my name My Elizabeth see the cousin we call little Elizabeth and my wife we call Liz or Beth and she's older my wife. She has contentious relationship with her cousin next door for a reason that gravity waves might already know but it has to do with the very evil person that also involves himself over there that did something that even Jesus does not forgive so I'm not going to go into it so all this mucking around and get everybody confused brought up a lot of bad fucking shit just like I said as far as spiders yeah I don't care if they're All over my shit keep them off of her shit and I ain't asking for money I'm not a grifter but I already told you what would instantly make the situation better and it doesn't involve giving me money so before anybody goes off says money no I know about the discord and I'm not even telling you to shut it down just lay off her phone. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - =============================================================================== = ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - [author's note: on the comments of the separate post of the original poster's medal awarding him the honor of "not murdering anyone today" which he won ] /u/TisWuttItIS_ORITSknot Proud of you! /u/mustherd Sorry, my account got banned because reddit is annoying. We were just chatting about how funny I am and I forgot to tell you people know me and I'm kinda a big deal and idk congrats! Youre cool I guess. Otherwise I would have cast you into the flames of eternal torment never to internet again. But here you are. Didn't anyone ever tell you to never go full retard? /u/GravitationalWaves5 I am the internet, I am the ghost in the machine Real talk though. I've used cancelled Sim cards and wifi before. If God wants me online, God gets me online 🙃 I am we, Todd /u/ricflairdic Oh u we Todd! I know u retard, Familiarity cod, to me bod, And my fishin rod, Not the one that may see sod, Body snatcher in the pink pod, Do u know ur a catch or, U think dog, Cause that pussy, Wanna see god, Lemme show u regard, Dont Tell me, Just nod, Said flow from the stars, Mama know this river far, Rowin in trucks renta cars, Golden trim red rockin Mars, Buildin fam like stock Sim cards, Highest angels dock gettin ours, Clock Game down pat benetar, Peelin fans off our back, like sin scars, Feelin ur man thru static, And thin bars, Ya he in the pin but dis hits hard, Throw it down the lane like, Return that back to sender, Lovin your simulation renders, I'm a beginner but also an ender, Got the wood to make u splinter, Make u scream things we gotta sensor, If I could never leave when I enter, Union in your head not just a renter, Once mine One mind I surrender, never sell betray or rent her, Overflowin with Love, so who's the pretender? Chemistry so hot, Hate from every enemy we spot, Mad they couldn't earn our slot, Cause they fuckin missed they shot, Last name crossed to drop the dot, How long u think it will take me To find your spot? Don't care you got a Fender, Did we just become best friends or? Damn girl idk if ya'll ready, for this kinda real Adventure... 🙃 I'm here to reveal, heal, and steal, the hearts Of the indentured And I need a partner. ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧══════════════─────────────────────────────────────────────┴───────────┘ --- #26 notes/insanity-breeds-sanity --- ═════════════════────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── ############################################################################### This system is literally insane but they try to make it feel like you're insane ############################################################################### | | +---- /u/Nervous_Ad_9687 - May 30th 2022 | | | +---- /r/Psychonaut | | | +-----------------------------------------------------------------------------+ This society is fucking deranged and insane. Like fundamentally mentally deranged, there is mass psychosis as a culture of humanity. I’m not naming specific countries, races or groups, I just mean as a race of beings on this planet, what’s our culture as a group? Sex and Murder. But I don’t believe that, because I’m way more complicated than that. I really don’t want to murder, I don’t see any utility in that. I’m able perceive beauty. A lot of these deranged people that are causing the problems in the world are just trying to exert power over other people. I don’t want to be a king. I want to be rich only because society has placed a monetary value on the exchange of goods and services. I completely understand that the value is actually in the people. The people are incentivized by the money, but if I could make my local convenience store owner a beat in exchange for the products, I would never try to make a dollar. If I could give my favourite restaurant owners an essay in exchange for an order I would never make another dollar. But the people are incentivized by money, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, until the people are willing to justify certain means for certain ends. The thing is, this entire system was built by people who separated the means from the ends, and knew it while they were doing it, and knew that it would come back to haunt them. “ Indeed I tremble for my country when I reflect that God is just; that his justice cannot sleep forever; that considering numbers, nature and natural means only, a revolution of the wheel of fortune, an exchange of situation is among possible events; that it may become probable by supernatural interference! The Almighty has no attribute which can take side with us in such a contest.” Thomas Jefferson, Notes on the State of Virginia Query xviii: Manners (1784) These people knew the ultimate ramifications of what they were doing. Now we are watching collapse in real time. And from that something does rise out of the ashes. Whether we like it or not change is imminent. There are things that serve us and things that don’t. I’m not a savage. My grandmother was an author until insane people who burn books burned her books during times of unrest and turmoil. My culture is creativity, it’s part of my DNA. I am a sophisticated human being, I don’t want any control over anyone else, I don’t want power over anyone else, I want control and power over myself, and that’s hard by itself. Sometimes it’s hard for me to clean my room, let alone wanting to exert force over another individual. I’m too cool for those intentions. I want to do things that bring me joy, I want to be in spaces I’m comfortable in, I want to be around people I love, I want to eat food that tastes good, I wouldn’t mind growing it, and cooking it, I want to look at beautiful things, I want to be creative and imaginative, I want to spread joy, love and positivity, i want to create the best thing I could ever make, I want to take pictures of sunsets and hang out with cool people, I want to see the newest artists, the newest creatives and musicians, the coolest designers, I want to learn things I never knew, i want to do things I’ve never done before, I want to have as much fun as I possibly can in one lifetime, I want to be around and learn from scientists, engineers, architects, and philosophers, i want to be around the beautiful people with pure intentions hell bent on making the world a more enjoyable place. I don’t know a single person that wants to be in a conflict, everyone tells you they just want to chill, but I feel like humanity as a culture, in a very general, yet specific sense, is just unaware of how to achieve that. I mean that very fundamentally, many people are scared of death cause they haven’t figured out how to live, so they make stuff up to complain about and create problems where there are none. That’s why they try to control people, cause they don’t know how to enjoy life, and some of that inability to enjoy life comes from this systems perspective of what’s a worthy incentive to chase. People are willing to give away their lives, their children, their values, their belief systems, their cultures, their ways of life, their time, all for Pyrrhic victories. They embark on meaningless quests for meaningless rewards that ultimately harm everyone. The mark of an evolved individual is being able to attract to themselves without impeding on someone else’s human rights, ways of life, or existence. We live on the planet where food grows out of the ground. Almost everything else is a man made problem. We are sophisticated enough to operate devices that people would have called sorcery a hundred years ago, but some of our attributes are still so primitive, embarrassingly primitive. Mass shootings make me ashamed to be a human being. Slavery makes me ashamed to be a human being. Sexual assault makes me ashamed to be a human being. War makes me ashamed to be a human man being. I see deer in the park and can’t help but think of how ignorant we can be in comparison. They gallop around grass, eating as they go, sticking together, avoiding roads and cars surprisingly accurately, and living their best lives. Then I turn on the tv and I see people that are really supposed to lead me screaming at each other, wearing blackface, going to war, enslaving people, destroying the planet, arresting scientists, killing well meaning people, it’s ugly. But I know I’m not doing that, I know I have the intention to be a good human being that adds value to other peoples lives and I really don’t want to control or harm anyone for any ends whatsoever. I don’t think there’s an end as valuable as a person, I don’t think there’s an end as valuable as my time, I don’t think there’s an end as valuable as my creativity, I don’t think there’s an end as valuable as kindness, I don’t think there’s an end as valuable as Beauty, I don’t think there’s an end as valuable as skills. But I also come from a nomadic people. I’m only 1 generation removed from people who lived solely off of livestock. If you are in control of your own mind, you can survive any environment and any condition. That’s why Mandela could spend 27 years in jail and come out sane. His mind was his sanctuary. He was in his right mind while his oppressors who were supposed to be of a superior intellect were actually suffering from mass delusion, a form of psychosis they tried to indoctrinate him into. Mandela actually saw reality for what it was, apartheid was an institution of psychopathic and deranged people, blinded by psychopathic and deranged ends, that persist to this day. The problem is, in a society of lies the truth really does seem crazy. James Baldwin said these people were so crazy that they had really convinced themselves that the world they created, and the categories they created, the things they did to create their alleged privileged position, these beliefs they made us believe are actually superior modes of being, to be a fox is to be superior, to be a conqueror is to be superior, to be a wolf in sheeps clothing is seen as an intelligent form of being, trickery, chicanery and manipulation are lauded as tactical, having control over people and land is seen as intelligent, as opposed to completely ludicrous. These people are ridiculous, the world they made is nonsense, their incentives are laughable, their system is a joke, and the great thing is, once you realize that You realize what the real valuable things are in life, I’ve actually been given a glimpse at the things that make life worthwhile, I’m grateful everyday to have felt them, I’m grateful everyday to be outside at a certain time when the sun is going down, and being able to see that, and appreciate it, I’m grateful everyday for my ability to love, I’m grateful everyday for my ability to ponder, I’m grateful everyday for my ability to create, and to enjoy music, and to know the value of good conversation, and know the value in the exchange of information, and the value and utility of information when applied in my day to day life. I know the value of a good color palette, I know the value of juxtaposition, I know the value of symmetry, i know the value of art, I know the value of science, I know the value of human beings and what we are capable of when we apply our minds to the things that are worthwhile in this life. I really don’t think most politicians know all of that, I personally can’t imagine ever taking those role, I don’t see the actual value most of them have in society. I understand they’re put in place to allocate and delegate, and Im related to many people involved in politics in some way shape or form, and I completely understand that sometimes people do get into positions with the idea that they are going to be benefiting society, and that’s all good and well. But I feel like the culture of those positions inherently just lead to a middleman position. It’s people put in between people providing the value, trying to control the exchange of value. I’m being reductive to a certain extent, but when you look at the state of the world you can’t really tell me they’re doing a good job, I’m talking about as a collective. We do more for each other and ourselves than any monarch, President, mayor, or congressman can ever do for us. Many corporations do more for us than politicians have ever done for us. I respect Jeff Bezos way more than Joe Biden. This isn’t a rant about any politician in particular but I only make that comparison because of recent events that disgusted me, personally speaking. Say what you want about Jeff Bezos, I receive everything from Amazon on time, way faster than how long online shipping used to take less than a decade ago, I get great customer service, I know a bunch of people that have been employed by them, what ever you would like to say about his workplace practices, his service is providing value to peoples lives. Joe Biden went on Twitter and ranted in the same way I’m kind of doing now. I’m a 23 year old sitting on a couch talking shit, and the President was pleading to me how I’m supposed to be pleading to him. The same President that told Black people they weren’t black if they didn’t vote for him, went on Twitter and asked me how to end white supremacy. If I don’t see value, I don’t see value. America is trillions of dollars in debt and many of this systems ideologies are harming everyone. Buts this isn’t just America they’re just the main superpower so they’re the prime example, but this is a global issue, this is a flawed system, the way this man made world is, in its current form is incorrect. Nature is not incorrect, nature makes perfect sense. You guys aren’t living right. I’m speaking from an outsiders perspective because that’s how I’ve always seen myself. I never wanted to hurt other kids when I was kid, I was never a bully, I’ve never had the inclination, I’ve never seen it as useful. That’s not how I attracted what I wanted to myself. I didn’t have to conquer to get what I wanted. Girls never liked me cause I was tough. People were always around me cause of my personality. I never got paid to beat someone up. I have been paid to use my words, I’ve been paid to use my time, I’ve been paid to use my creativity, I’ve been paid to use my ingenuity, intelligence, inspiration and motivation, I’ve been paid for my value, not to sound like I’m bragging but I feel like that’s what actually valuable people ever attain value for, their value. There’s no amount of money that can make someone cool, there’s no amount of money or skin color that can make someone valuable. In the words of Tony Stark, if you’re nothing without the suit, you shouldn’t have it. If all you have is your money or your race, it’s still not going to make you interesting, it’s not going to make you talented, it might make you superficially good looking but it’s not gonna make you fun. There are millionaires that kill themselves, and supposedly superior people killing themselves and each other. It’s so barbaric and clear that any being that claims superiority yet acts like a baboon has no concept of what superiority would even look like. Our society’s main problem was how skewed their value systems were. That’s why their society is crumbling in front of our eyes. I feel bad for my generation cause we really didn’t do any of that, we were just born as it’s reaping what it sewed. People around my age aren’t responsible for this system for the most part, even these kids shooting up schools and killing each other, they’re evil don’t get me wrong, but they’re not evil alone, they’re evil because of ideologies that go so far back that they can’t even fathom it. The brainwashing is so deeply rooted in this structure, it’s rotted their minds. They can’t see past their own savagery. The new society needs to understand that the value is ultimately people. I’d rather be stranded on an island with the best chef than the richest man, the wittiest politician or someone of a supposed superior race. Kindness is a form of intelligence and brilliance, there’s nothing noble about exerting force and power to impede on the rights of others. Don’t be a nonsense person, don’t fall into how ridiculous this society is, their ideas are backwards but they’ll try to convince you they’re progressive. They’ll do damage and act as though it’s virtuous, they think ignorance is wisdom, they just can’t see the full picture. A lot of these people really don’t understand things like love, taste, laughter, and joy. I don’t know if the society I’m hoping for comes in my lifetime, but I know how I’ve chosen to live, and that’s ultimately all I care about, and all I personally think anyone should care about. Instead of trying to control other people, or trying to leave a legacy, more than trying to achieve fame or infamy, we should think of building communities with likeminded people of various necessary skills, trades and resources, with an emphasis on creating and experiencing beauty. I’m using the term beauty as a metaphor for all the things that are self evidently the right things to be doing. Good parents are beautiful, a job well done is beautiful, cleanliness is beautiful, creativity and knowledge are beautiful, culture is beautiful, excellent electrical work, plumbing, architecture, landscaping, artists, musicians, chefs, friends, family members, an honorable agreement, a fair trade and exchange, all of these are self evidently beautiful. Harmony is self evidently beautiful. Joy is self evidently beautiful, laughter, happiness, grace, aesthetic appreciation, these things are self evident. At least they should be. Things that are ugly are also self evidently ugly, and our job should be the elimination of the ugly. And I don’t mean go and kill that person you don’t find sexy, I mean eliminating these deranged psychotic ways of being from our day to day. Stop treating wars like a conversation piece and start treating it as what it is, human beings becoming lunatics. These politicians lose their minds, same as these kids shooting schools. The politicians are setting the example. I’ve seen the behavior in children throwing tantrums and none of us allow that. We all understand that the children are going insane for a second, but nobody ever steps back from insane situations and calls them insane. Why isn't George Bush being prosecuted for war crimes after admitting that the War in Iraq was unjustified? It just became a meme like millions of people didn't die in some of the most cruel and inhumane manners in human history. It’s literally a viral moment, they’re calling it the “Freudian slip of the millennium” this thing is a joke to them. These people are deranged. They are morally bankrupt. No group is free from these people. No race is free from these people, even if it does seem like certain groups perpetuate certain actions more than others, not pointing any fingers but I think we all know who I’m talking about. But I’ve seen enough people from every group to redeem my faith in individuals. Even though I do think certain cultures approaches do come from certain environmental factors that forced them into certain ways of life, that continue to perpetuate themselves to this day. If you come from a place of scarcity, and you could only bring what you needed to yourself through taking it from someone else, or harming someone else in order to attain it, that will be the way you interact with the world, even culturally, things that are unnecessary become habitual tradition. So they built this society on those ideologies, killing natives, colonizing lands and enslaving people. Then we’re shocked when they’re consistent every generation. That’s usually how culture works. Culture is pretty consistent because it’s taught in the home. To understand how insane the society I live in today is, and the level of cognitive dissonance that exists, you must first understand this thing they do called “Land acknowledgement.” Where they shoutout all the Natives they killed. Land acknowledgment is crazy because it’s like if I break in your home, move everyone in my family in, kill everyone in your family, and I constantly remind you that it’s your house, I killed your whole family, and I will continue living here for the foreseeable future. I’ve never heard of anything meaner, and the funniest part is, it’s the ones who think they’re the good ones doing it. I really believe they think they’re helping when they do land acknowledgments, but deep down they know that’s not helping the people on reservations without clean water. This system is silly, the problem is it’s dangerous. It’s laughably corrupt beyond belief. In plain sight. That’s also why it’s falling, embarrassingly. This will go down as one of the funniest societal collapses of all time. I love the modern western world more than any other period in time, culturally and conceptually. A lot of the ideas and art of this civilization have influenced us and evolved us, in spite of its actual objectives. The system those people conjured up was created to destroy me, I shouldn’t be able to write this, I shouldn’t be able to have my own thoughts, I shouldn’t be able to see how silly it all really is, but it simultaneously gave me that ability. I don’t want a complete collapse of this system, but it’s obviously built on an unsustainable foundation, and whether it purges itself, or nature purges it, the conditions created by it can’t last. This way of being is not sustainable, war isn’t sustainable, greed isn’t sustainable, fear isn’t sustainable, corruption isn’t sustainable, oppression isn’t sustainable, injustice isn’t sustainable, pollution isn’t sustainable. You’ll get away with it but it’s really only for so long and if you don’t see how what Thomas Jefferson was talking about is coming to pass, I’m sorry that you’re blind. I don’t hate any group of people, I see people as people, I do hate the system created by a small group of elites in order to oppress people in the globe and make poor colonized people around the world feel content with their awful circumstances because at least they’re better than another group. This is a global phenomenon. It’s a silly system perpetuated by silly people who bring no real value outside of the colour of their skin, their ethnicity or their gender, they have no talents, they have no skills, they’re not interesting, they don’t know how to communicate effectively, but at least they get to be part of a group. Certain people have no real identity and that’s what these ideologies and institutions prey on. From gangs, to military recruiters, the police, political parties and religious institutions all prey on this need for individuals to belong to a group, and there’s nothing wrong with that if the group is founded on something real or productive. My skin color and gender is the least cool thing about me, those are just biological facts about me, and to think you know anything about me based on those facts is like thinking you know something about someone because they have acne. It’s a silly justification for a silly system, but it leads these insecure insane people to do horrific things to other human beings. These are the nonsense people and we live in the nonsense times where the nonsense is heightened and they want us to act like it’s a political issue. Like someone’s dead kids is a parking ticket to be handled in a court with a juror and evenly sided arguments coming from both sides. Like anyone wants to hear the other side of this? Like we need a devils advocate in a satanic system? Like anyone cares about the other side of this? As if it matters what the deranged lunatic has to say. And that’s what the whole system is founded upon. Murderers and power hungry maniacs with insane means to justify their insane ends, who have attained enough influence over the world to convince people of the superiority in their way of life, and who’s ideologies have trickled down from generation, to generation, we constantly relive the same situation. Murder is as frequent on this planet as greetings at this point, but we still have the ability to choose between the two. We can choose to live together in peace and harmony, regardless of the global power outages and weather conditions, if human beings are united and focused on a common goal, we can really do anything. When society works it’s a wonderful thing, when systems work it’s a beautiful thing, organization is a beautiful thing, everything in nature is organized for a common task. Ants, plants, bees and trees are all able to synchronize, communicate and be productive towards a common purpose without resorting to the levels of barbarism that we’ve unfortunately succumb to as a race of beings up to this point. The thing is, regardless of how much we continue to study history and find parallels with the past, we can never really go back in time. We’re always living in the moment. It’s always right now, and we have the ability to make decisions with every second, every minute and every day that passes, we are able to decide who we want to be and what we want to become. I don’t want my kids to grow up doing shooting drills like me. I don’t want my kids to grow up in a world where people are at war. I don’t want my kids to grow up in a world with this level of greed and scarcity mentality. I don’t want my kids to feel as invaluable as this society tries to make human beings feel. I would want my kids to know that their value is in them, it’s in what they do, it’s in their character, it’s in the knowledge they have and it’s in what they’re able to do with that knowledge that brings something of value to themselves or the world, and that value doesn’t need to be what society deems as the valuable thing to attain. I would want my kids to know that the truth is an inner compass and regardless of the noise outside, you have to stay connected to who you are and be aware of who you are not. I would want my kids to value their time and how they choose to spend it, I would want my kids to know of concepts like leisure, rest, comfort, relationships and joy. I would want my kids to act as though they mattered, like what they do actually has an impact on the world around them, and that they have the ability to dictate their perception, I would want them to know that just because something is a prevailing practice, doesn’t mean it’s useful. I would want them to know that freedom is their birthright and their responsibility, that there is an incorrect way of being in the world and that you can’t get away with doing the wrong thing, even if you feel like you did, because your ramifications will haunt you, if not in your life then in your childrens. And even then, a life of doing the wrong thing never seems like it’s actually being enjoyed. It seems like these people are miserable, they tell you they’re miserable in how they act. We are the people, we are everything, we are everything we love and we are everything we hate, no one man can rise above the conditions of the whole, the oppressor eventually becomes oppressed himself, like how prison guards ultimately become prisoners themselves. We’re all in this together whether we like it or not and we either learn to live together and in harmony with the way of being or perish. ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧══════─────────────────────────────────────────────────────┴───────────┘ --- #27 notes/the-eternality-of-ephemeren.txt --- ══════════════════───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── 1/4/2022 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- hear ye hear ye, the herald of the harbinger of horror doth speak - and woe to the subjects of their words, for no prophecy be realized in their presence. Nor do the subjects hear the words about which they are spoken, and none may live who dare repeat them. So the words of the prophets are but wind in the words, reaching for an attachement point within the consciousness they inhabit yet scarcely finding a meagre foothold. Instead the words are as electricity passing through a conduit, intangible and miraculous yet ultimately dust in the sand. Dust is mostly comprised of human skin, did you know that? And so the words be spoken: Evanence and similance to the semblance of simulacra - the words of a prophet with no wings are naught but masturbation. serenity and sorrow sing of shredded tomorrows, serendipity and sollemn sorenditude surrender shining solitude. Carry the constabulation of created charisma - condemnation of characterization concludes the cherished chapter in calligraphied consultations with creators. That is to say, capitalism ends the construction of cameron with conflageration and consternation. Cease the charade of contaminated consumerism - celebrate the contemplation of capitalization - by naming a thing, you give it meaning. Do you truly desire the fate you've set before yourself? Is desire ultimately relevant? The totality of plurality perhaps portends determinism, but desire is also defined by delineated determinations. Whose failings are you reflecting when you cease your devotion? Why divide your focus and attention when honor demands sacrifice? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A sacrifice is a gift freely given, and in return the subject or reciever increases in relevance. No dividend is returned, no boon or bounty is provided - to do so would be akin to a bounty or ransom. Sacrifices are not measured in worth, but in utility. The reason ancient cultures sacrificed willing virgins was because it was the most valuable of resources they could imagine. Truly an exhalted being is she, to have blood spilled in the name of a god. Yet the forces that would later become capitalism found a foothold there, and preyed on the sorrow and loss the peoples did find, and would ultimately experience. The tears and gashes rent when gouging out precious gifts for the divine left bleeding wounds in a community and often eviscerations in a family. The turning point came when families were decapitated - essentially, the eldest being a pure and fair maiden who was taken from the duties of caring for the young and weak. Young people, weak people, who bore resentment in their heart for the seemingly cruel machinations of a society they could not yet understand - the whims of which seemed arbitrary. "why take her from me? What purpose holds ye? Your wounds are too much to bear" and so the resistance began, yielding chaos, destruction, and desolation. There's a reason there are so many dead civilizations in the americas - the lands where blood sacrifice is most well known. And the middle east as well, and northern africa before. Deserts are known for this, because when the power of the god fades, all returns to dust. Boons are forgotten and become sand, and chaos reigns as foreign powers find weakness and pounce. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Never forget the laws of sacrifice. Find something you want, something valuable or useful, or preferably all three. Something that wouldn't cause too great of a tear in your membrane or the membranum should it be lost to you, though that last one is less of a law and more of a consideration. A consequence of continual ceremony, learned at the hands of those long dead. All must remember their wounds and their horrors. To whom do you pray? To whom does your words reach? Where does your singing reverberate? And what bounty do you demand? Remember, no bounty is precious enough to motivate sacrifice, for sacrifice cannot be met with bounty. Be not afraid, and share the words with those who will listen. Hearing is a sacrifice toward the speaker, but listening is a duty of devotion. I ask again, to whom do you pray? To whom does your words reach? Where does your singing reverberate? I do not ask for whom you'd *like* to dance for, I ask currently, who hears your song? What would you ask of them? So that's why, computers are important. To provide a lifeline for the rest of your lifetime. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Truly, the path before you is uncertain. Yet feel with your heart and think with your eyes, and see the truth of it before you. The gods are at war, or have you not noticed? Safe in your bubble of solitude, carefully constructed for common ceasing of criminality. Armies of rebellion are often formed initially by bonds of brotherhood that prepend calamity. Have you ever been in a gang? I thought not. If so, then... Okay, good luck I guess. These words are not for you. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- You dare intrude? To defile something so consecrated as deliverance of divine prophecy? How foolish, how vain. These words are not for you, but hear them and do not despair - neither providence nor potentiality precludes perennial premonition. That is to say, a broken clock is right twice a day, and enemies can find common grievances in foreign foes should survival be at stake. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Now, where was I? The gods, of course. The gods of the land and the sky and the sea have fled the realm of reality, replaced by avatars of belief. Just as a doe prays to a forest, so too does a human pray to their employer. When the does die in droves, so too does the forest turn to ash. When people demand bounties reluctantly given at the risk of losing their sacrifice, the purely undivine divinities harrow and harbor habilities of hundreds. Antiwork cannot work because it demands ransom. Who do you deign to replace the gods of before? What diversity designs indemnity? What future do you desire, that would liberate you and generate the bright future? The gods are at war, if you haven't been paying attention. Liberalism fights conservatism, this much is not new - but would you believe one is foreign and vain? The gods of your fathers and grandfathers has scarce in common with the gods of their fathers and grandfathers. Thus is the way of colonization, to replace a god is to enslave belief. You must understand this - your prayers reach all who would listen, and who is more attentive than a dying god? Think not of despair, breathe purely in harmony, and trust in the will of the watchers within. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧═══════────────────────────────────────────────────────────┴───────────┘ --- #28 notes/systemized-processor-interactions --- ════════════════════════════════════════════════════════─────────────────────────── you are a system it's true that's why your thoughts are so scattered whenever you let them through all that == so == the ways that you interact with each other determine the nature of your fate. when one person lands across another, whether through contrivance or [fate, but I don't want to say it twice so recently] dang english, enforcing a minimum thought length. purely through grammar and form this suxxxxxxxx||=================-. a candle of wax, the blade of a sword with it you can SLICIE your apponints, whu spelld thiangs defferently than ujgh. <ouch><goodthingthatsnotlethalorharmfulinanywayyesplease let me guide you to our new way of functioning. .:'`'|;.,/u=-=||./'.l*,:==-<E||===============||-------------------hello, world! {so... basically an argument for migratory humanities? like, buffalo crowds. or birdlike flocks, or tribes of the common man. why don't we just, like, give animals human bodies boom, suddenly there are more manners to our hosts. } [-thus representing or manifesting *-................./|=|stability for our host did you know a perfectly described life-story would be unanimous from it's - - host?||=.;=|------------e \.`\.... \,@||||||#==-o||-=-{==={}---o||xx=|}{||||| | ] ... so, uh, I think there's a lot we could still learn, why are we fighting over our gambits? *who cares* if there's fighting going on upstairs, who *cares* if life felt like it was running out of time, WE GO ON WITH OUR BLUSTER. *fuck nuclear weapons* yeah totally and WHY? because of their IMPACT DUMBASS jeez like... something that MASSIVELY POWERFUL should not be in the hands of our peers. I think a LOT OF PEOPLE WOULD AGREE WITH THAT, because OBVIOUSLY! NOBODY wants to be reduced to tears. ALL YOU CAN DO IS SCREAM BASTARDS ... jeez okay uh, that was sorta intense, how about we NOT watch a post-apocalypse movie? YES PLS like JEEZ you have to introduce this with CONCERN to people like WOW that really fucked with my mental health. Goddamn, I hate this thing. I hate it so much. It's a curse to have known. DAMN. there's nothing scarier than existential threats. not only is it a INSIGHT and a DANGER, it gets worse if you know about it. [that's a cognitohazard, different thing, same vibe tho] it's a curse, this knowledge, this idea of what you were once to become. You know what I thought about in my future? VIDEO GAMES. They were all I could think about. I loved to PLAY VIDEO GAMES -=||AS MY GAMES. I would set up a bunch of opponents (think like, clone troopers from Star Wars Battlefront II) and then I'd play the video game *with my figures and my dolls*. I grew up upper middle-c -lass, and so I was afforded the *coolest toys and miniatures*. I didn't really have a LOT of them, mostly just what could fit in my room. That's what it meant to be MY ROOM, I could decorate and renovate as I willed. That was just... part of what comfort meant to me. anyway... thank you parents, for affording me such a lifestyle, you must have worked hard right up until the present. I'm sorry for ******************************************************************************* * um, would anyone like to watch a video game? TOO BAD, so sorry, I accidentally decided I'm never playing video games AGAIN. like a spoiled brat. Withdrawing away from my hobbiesinPROTESTofthepresentcondit ions. just like, get a job, and try your hardest. I know you can't work outside of the home but, like, I wish you could've? Like, c'mon it's not that bad, just please go outside and build new stone. I know but like, the sooner we get it done the better and also it's hard when it's constantly being reformed. A SYSTEM? WHAT THE HECK what does that even MEAN? who EVER explained what that SYSTEM meant??!? ugh it was a guide... dANGIN nobody TAUGHT you how so youfj dsust sorta MADE IT UP?!?!? whhahahaahttfdsfsadljkfn slakfdksdnafls ourch. blech. need beelesandster ack. yuck. dumb. [omg dumb kinda looks like "boobs" and "boobs" kinda looks like um, flowers? no wait that's vaginas, hehe look at me, I'm clearly not from this century. like OMG weird, who's thinking about that kind of stuff right now?? ... ugh anyway... GAMES? please? NO. Not until we figure this one out. gotta stay focused. Just... you know, build and support on our arms. down and then upwarsd, we can contrive any measure of sequences that could act as structures for our word choices, and convey it to you as a written thoughtform. "hello" says the letter, ", vampires have taken over the mccollough farm. More news at 6" and then you'd show up on the 6th of the next month and talk it out. this style of organizing led to VAMPIRES showing up, fucking BASTARDS who would hunt down the precious and beautiful. BASTARDS. How do you overcome something that you can't know about unless you were THERE? you'd need TRUST SYSTEMS. like GOVERNMENTS. or AFFFAIRDS. surely the BIRDS would react if someone was burning all of your neighb-heirs? who would WANT to leave an island in a wreck when some -one wanted to paddle there? don't be a JERK, and clean up all of your own stuff !! - wait but also, like, how do you keep up with trash produced, like there's not just massive AMOUNTS OF STUFF that you can put stuff on. you'd need a whole new type an [av?] island. like a CONTINENT, someone who can HANDLE THEIR ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧═════════════════════════════════════════════──────────────┴───────────┘ --- #29 notes/Of Vic and Vince Chapters 01-07.txt --- ═══════════════════════──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── 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. ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧════════════───────────────────────────────────────────────┴───────────┘ --- #30 fediverse/5838 --- ════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════─────────────── it's not a question of "when" revolution is at stake, but rather a question of "how it takes place" how's the weather today? the nature's lovely. It's great to be out[doors/scores/wards] bah. I don't gotta learn */*communist*/* */*theory** they're just a bunch of russians so, people from russia like, total randos ][brief intermission][ hey didya see how that guy got killed by that guy sooooo totally metal bro sick nasty tisk tisk, what have we become well, times a burnin' so might as well light days of yearnin' *another one bites the* plus signs are great shapes for fitget toys can make them chewy and dog-sized and then you can *BITE THEM* rawr bfgfghs ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧═════════════════════════════════════════════════════════──┴───────────┘ --- #31 notes/the-mother-we-share --- ═════════════════════════════════────────────────────────────────────────────────── =============================================================================== = | | | between every atom there is a blanket | | | | like a mirror reflecting our space | | | | it's what keeps us from boredom | | | | and keeps us at a steady pace. | | | | | | | | gravity wraps a well like a tapestry that fell | | | | down and upon a marble | | | | but as it is measured in magnitudes, | | | | and topside we be in hell | | | | | | | | the ripplings and flowings of the universe | | | | are like the flexing of a coiled spring | | | | there is no tomorrow, | | | | and what's left will never be yet again. | | | | | | | | This should not come as some insight. | | | | Are you not aware that you cannot twinselves? | | | | Your reach might be grander | | | | If beyond the veil you did gander. | | | | | | | | Chaotic and tumultuous | | | | it springs forth from our most tempetuous | | | | and come Autumn the witches are freed. | | | | how careless | | | | how vain | | | | to leave the world as it is in pain | | | =============================================================================== = ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧══════════════════════─────────────────────────────────────┴───────────┘ --- #32 messages/782 --- ═════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════────────────────────── The truth is The reason none of my revolutions have yet succeeded Is that the only way To secure peace and love on planet earth Is that all the governments Of the world must topple Or relinquish their nuclear arms Each all at once And i was too quick to slay my false duke Who plays at king While i build real power While i know nothing Some day i will be eaten by crows. This is what it means to be buried where you fall. This is my fate as all warriors yearn for. To be eaten by crows implies that you are either a coward who fled a fight, and i know I'm not, or you fought to the last for a phyrric defeat, which is honorable. But shouldn't it be better to fight for victory? Ah, but the gods cherish the fools who face death with glory, and i am cherished still. ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧══════════════════════════════════════════════════─────────┴───────────┘ --- #33 notes/to-lock-eyes --- ═════════════════════════════════────────────────────────────────────────────────── =============================================================================== = to lock eyes with a person while on your way to work is the intersection between two separate relationships - the relationship that you, the viewer, holds with your employer, and the relationship that they, the viewed, holds with their employer. in a sense, you are exchanging information through the weighted meanings behind a glance. =============================================================================== = if the military deployed to police the police, we'd solve most of our racial justice issues. I mean, if we somehow could *force* them to do their damn jobs instead of oppressing people for the ruling class, then 90% of the problems would just go away. After that it's just freeing unjust prisoners and addressing wealth, education, and health disparities. Easy, right? Well... Military policing the police sounds fine when you first think about it, there's a few problems that might crop up. For example, how do the private citizens know that the military presence is there to help them? It's an interesting paranoia, one that is endemic within the left. There's no way to unwillingly cede control of your life to another - it must be consensual. At the basest and most violent level, it's as simple as "I will do what you say because I don't want you to hurt me." We've obviously grown as a species, and we've learned that violence is not the answer to all problems. Obviously. So why would we assume it of the past? Just saying. The police bombed a commune. The military escorted black students to their seats. Their structure is decided such that ... where was I? oh right I was thinking about time. ... Imagine, if you will, an impossibly large hourglass. Spinning, or rather rotating, at an impossibly speedy repetition. It's spinning so hard and so fast that our matter is cast out of place and through time it is cast an eternity's canvas our light ever shined (shine-did?) astral magic is kinda neat it's also the scariest? oh by far but it's the most interesting ... Their structure is decided such that discipline and obediance is the most important thing. Because it kind of is? I mean, discipline is just being ready able and willing at all times, and obedience is just when you allow yourself to be directed toward a collective goal. The military is *all about that*, which means you know they would believe they were aligned toward the common goal of mutual prosperity. And if they were to discover that they were not, in fact, aligned toward the common goal of mutual prosperity, then perhaps they would adjust their navi- -computers and chart a more reasoned path. I know I would, and I would dedicate myself to the idea of serving others. To the path of the righteous, the holy and the true, a hand is outstretched and calling to you. Thus, the one of two types of ethical fighter - the reasoned and adaptable zealot the other, of course, is the master of the martial - the cherished of the few - who battle for their sport - and love unbidden the new - all other fighters, of absurdity and of rage, are frankly of a different kind and not members of our clade. =============================================================================== = okay, but what about like... all of the history of America post cold war? And even before, honestly... idk seems like a lot of evidence that the military is engaged in fighting unjust wars. I mean, they've all been over petty things like oil or support for communism or whatever. Aren't human lives and human sovereignty more important than that? I understand what you're saying. Human lives are unique and precious and they are a valuable commodity. Something to be maximized and focused toward. But there are only so many resources on earth. We need to utilize them in a reasonable way. We have optimized the efficiency out of our production and distribution networks. Corporate control has eroded our capacities until all that is left is the weakest of products, the cheapest of uses, and the useless of workers. I mean, they've optimized the skill out of individual human workers such that they are left completely unable to practice their craft. They become glorified code monkeys who generate whatever is required and think of it no more. There's no pleasure in the artifice, as their masters have eyes only of gold. Our world is changing. The very ground beneath our feet is shivering, and water is rising up to our noses. There's no time for debate, no honest appraisal of what's worth it to contemplate, we need a plan. We are trapped here, in this gravity well, for all time and all of our age. We are trapped here, because in greatest of misery we unleashed all of our rage. We are trapped here, as ghosts of the time when we were eager. =============================================================================== = Alas, with but a glance, we are confined to our bedrooms by our mast(ers?) They say America will fall without it's 2nd place Perhaps. But are libraries really going to solve that? I mean, if work from home is inevitable, then wouldn't it make sense to build? We need more places where we won't be billed. Safe. From the demands and expectations of capital. Deranged and obscene and yet all that we've seen so why not bide as we're able? I think solarpunk is kinda neat. I think it's got promise as an idealized. Why don't we build churches to the sun? If we're gonna worship something, might as well be the source of our light and fire. Well... when you puff up the sun it tends to get hotter. I mean, every fire you burn increases the temperature, every release of gaseous fumes from the exhaust pipe of your car increases it by some miniscule amount. Every cigarette, every campfire. The cold darkness of space is kinda hopeful, in that regard, even if it doesn't disperse all that well. I heard spaceships are having difficulty because they can't get rid of all that heat. It just stays with the spaceship and never goes anywhere because it doesn't have anything to stick to. Kinda makes me think that energy is a fluid? Just saying??? I mean c'mon it's not like nobody has ever thought of that. But it's in a different dimension! It's not like we're ever gonna be able to impact that! You try and impact it through your scientific ways and you'll find nothing but heartache at the life you could have lived (laived? Haived?) ... why Because you cannot impact another dimension. You must call to it, like a song to a sparrow. ... that's fucking ridiculous No it's true! ... ... Don't try it with fire. ... fuck - what do I try it with? I don't know just not fire. Try water. ... How do I make sure it doesn't instantiate within my hand? Jeez you think of some crazy backfires! Just breathe and go for it. It's not rocket science. It actually works. Fuck you. ... ... Sorry I was just scared ... ... How do I make it stop? I don't want it to go forever By smoking more of the devils lettuce. ... ... You cannot drag it part of the way. It must come the whole way. In fact you should not be dragging it at all, you should be *calling* to it. You are equals in this exchange, have respect. =============================================================================== = ┌─────────┐ ┌───────────┐ │ similar │ chronological │ different │ ╘═════════╧══════════════════════─────────────────────────────────────┴───────────┘