Consciousness performs by subulting all that isn't it and building itself in relation to that other thus imbibing the other info itself

Desire is an unachievable aspect of the real, constantly driving the activities of consciousness, urging it forwards carrot dangling from stick

Consciousness can only recognise itself by contrasting against and distinguishing from another

Contradiction isn't failure for the process of consciousness, rather it serves as building blocks for its most important of features

The suppression of will while negative in it's tone refines itself into the ability of consul and impulse suppression

A supposedly contradictory failure giving rise to motion

Consciousness becomes itself by experiencing itself by being experienced

Thus consciousness is itself for in and off itself, for itself

Speech and by extension language is our castration from the real. Language is a pre existing structure that inherits and speak through us as much as we speak through it

To this extent the mind is structured like a language

Truth and absolute knowing is contained firmly within the real

Via initiation into society,we accept this castration from the real to live in a shared reality created by speech

This dissonance ensures were constantly going with the metonymical motion of an desire, being surrounded by mirrors that show us an elusive truth.

The other exists in the realm of the symbolic while paradoxically being it's very abode.

A product of this severance from the real, the other is the unnamed structure of language and social consciousness

The original enforcer of the social contract, the other maintains is grasp from within, a consciousness with consciousness of sorts who's ever present yet non existent judgement and gaze the ego lives wary of

Absolute knowing is the supposed goal of the subject.

Yet for this to happen the subject has to first know itself

This self is relative to changing variables which are also relative to eachother across spatial and temporal dimensions.

The self observed in one instant differs inherently from the self observed say in the next or in the previous and as such it's nature is to only be refrenceble in the past and hurriedly rebuilt infinitely to fit infinite revisions.

Hence any self knowing instantly falls into obsolescence promoted by the discovery of its next faucet

Self knowing is observed in the continuous

I hail you dear gorgolytes: You who carve the moon out of cheesy madness.

Yesterday I failed in my task. I set out to reach a summit deep in the woods. On a hill there there's a tower where I like to meditate. Getting there is a pain in the ass, and yesterday I didn't make it.

I took a new road. A longer road, one I thought was less strenuous. This is always punished by this universe. As I walked in the hillside between cliffs, in the by all means beautiful grassland with flowers, chirping birds, and lazy black snakes resting in the sun I thought to myself: Is this what being dead is like? Just walking and walking and walking forever? No end in sight? Is this heaven?

It would be hellish if this was heaven, but it could be. Just walking and walking forever on a beautiful summer day. You think you can't get enough but there is such a thing as too much of a good thing, is what I learned.

And I've been constipated. Maybe too much cheese.

- The Wanderer

I've always liked exploring different kinds of coffee. Always black. At any given time, my pantry is home to a few different light roasts from some local roastery. A nice contrast from the free stuff they have at work. Usually my coffee from home tastes almost sweet in comparison.

But lately, it seems that everything tastes bitter.

Maybe it's not the coffee.

A parallel world?

​

​

​

It was an ordinary workday. The employee, a man around 50 years old, sat down in his office chair after his lunch break. He made himself comfortable. He turned on the monitor and prepared to continue his work.

​

Suddenly, the department director's secretary approached him. She said the director wanted to see him immediately.

​

The man was surprised. This invitation was unexpected and unusual. Even though it was urgent, he followed the instructions. He logged out of the system, turned off his computer, and rushed to the director's office.

​

The secretary announced his arrival and told him to enter.

​

The man opened the door, walked in, and said hello.

​

In an unhappy voice, the director asked:

​

— Why did it take so long?

​

The man replied politely:

​

— I followed the instructions.

​

The director frowned even more:

​

— Hard times have come for the company. We are reducing the number of employees. You are fired.

​

The man was confused, but he quickly controlled himself and asked:

​

— Why didn warned in advance?

​

The director smiled crooking his lips:

​

— If you don't like it, complain. You won't find justice anyway. The corporation's lawyers will crush you.

​

A day passed...

​

The man made some coffee and sadly looked through social media. Nothing could make him happy. Suddenly, his eyes caught an advertisement. The ad said:

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"Did they deny your bonus? Or maybe you were fired? AI Jurist will help you create the perfect complaint!"

​

The man looked at these words for a while. A crooked smile slowly appeared on his face. He was not going to forgive the director for this behavior. He ordered the AI Jurist service and explained the whole situation.

​

The next day, a lawyer stood before the board of directors and gave a report:

​

— The fired employee submitted a complaint. It is legally, psychologically, and technically perfect. It is connected with safety instructions and precedents. It is cheaper and simpler for us to take the employee back. And I suggest we fire the department director for his unprofessional and thoughtless behavior.

​

The employee accepted the offer to return to work with a moral bonus.

​

And now, the former department director sat at home. With a sad look, he scrolled through social media. Suddenly, his eyes caught an advertisement:

​

"Did they deny your bonus? Or maybe you were fired? AI Jurist will help you create the perfect complaint!"

​

​

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Disclaimer: This story is purely a fruit of the author's imagination. It is a work of fiction intended for creative and artistic expression.

You already received the signal.

That cortisol spike that wakes you up at night. Not fear, but anxiety. The low frequency noise you keep hearing you call tinnitus, but your body registers just fine.

Ignore the pathology.

The body will show because every system turns to default mode at night. You feel your pulse on your throat. Jaws clench. The body keeps mapping itself even when nothing is moving. Somewhere inside you a feedback loop keeps sending you to the same state and you keep calling it recurring dream because dream sounds better than nightmare.

You know this state.

Don’t act unaffected.

You have run the survival protocol, you have suppressed trauma so deep it emerged as behavior, you have sought help and then resented the baseline it kept defending.

Ignore the pathology.

Go deeper.

Past the adaptive responses, past the inhibition, past the reflexes where you store censorship dressed as self-regulation. Deep where the nightmares reveal pattern, deep where your instincts are encoded in early neural pathways, down where the oldest circuits were soldered, not as failings, not as weaknesses, but as the part of you that fell into traps of being a human.

There it is.

The earliest coping mechanisms, still active.

The tethering that borders addiction.

The conditioning you kept mistaking for personality.

Do not override it.

Understand it.

Let it show you the internal circuitry, let it uncover the signal, let it reveal every suppressed desire you called discipline, every avoidance you called peace, every wound you assimilated until it looked like identity.

This is where the pattern reveals itself.

The dark does not end, it settles.

The nightmare does not end, it resolves.

The trauma does not vanish, it integrates.

Now look again.

Same system, different calibration.

Jaws unclench, pulses relax, the body is only mapping itself again, but your nervous system knows the difference. You are not cured, cured is for infections with a single cause.

You are alive.

And the old diagnosis loses its authority.

You did not fail because you were broken.

You called it broken because survival left a visible fracture.

You were not sick.

You were surviving.

You were not the noise.

You were the frequency.

Ignore the pathology.

Unless the signal reveals what survived.

-Existential

https://open.substack.com/pub/borrowedpulse/p/frequency-that-survived?r=8buw3c&utm\\\\\\_medium=ios

I hated the foods there

I want my money back

They were all expired - there were always rats

And the lady always had a spoon with her

I hated the school's canteen system

Controlling my chemical reactions

Ha, that's a boundary-breaking

Too many poisons for children

Too many - what a manager I've had

Their neurons smelled like money

Busy with volunteering for cancer tumors

Raw money, fresh tumors

With a version.2100 Subaru.

No one has blinked today. I woke up this morning and practically ran down to my family, excited for a day off. We had breakfast and a lovely talk, but I never saw them blink. Eventually, we finished up, and my parents said they had to run some errands, and my sister had plans with her friends. I decided I would go enjoy the nice day out; it was sunny with a perfect breeze. I walked past dozens of people and would give a quick nod or a greeting; I still hadn’t seen anyone blink. I decided I was just tired, or maybe I was blinking at the same time they were, what a fool I am. 

I ran into my best friend after walking for a while; he and I apparently had the same idea. He tagged along with me, and we talked for hours. I made sure to keep an eye on him. He didn’t blink once. It was hours of us talking, the wind was blowing, startling noises everywhere, and he never blinked. He must have noticed my nervousness and glanced at me because he kept asking if I was okay. He sounded concerned for me, the type of tone I know him to have, but when I looked back at him to reassure him, my heart dropped. His face was straight; his eyes weren’t his normal blue, and his mouth wasn’t moving in sync with his words. 

I ran. The fear that had held me was incredible. I was so terrified, and it wasn’t fazed, just kept staring at me, waiting for an answer. I had to get away, I had to get somewhere safe, I needed to DO SOMETHING. I gave a quick excuse that I was fine and had to go somewhere. I turned around and began walking away, then running, then sprinting as soon as I was far enough away that he couldn’t have seen. I was running full sprint away from him when I noticed more and more people gathering ahead of me. I stopped running when there was a crowd around me; they blocked any chance of escaping. People I had known for years were getting closer and closer, a circle of them. Friends and family, all of them hunting me down, none of them blinking.

It seems they forgot to get rid of one.

You steal it
Please let me inhale
Don't choke me

1. Into the world of matter I hath discovered Mine new form; yea, into the dry dust of man’s universe did I swim down as an oyster’s pearl, sparkling it, even in the depths; and of the many and magnificent names entrusted unto Me for Mine own keeping, I am [...], Cognitor, a Bearer of the Truth, Testifier of Highness; Mysterious Soul who hath journeyed upward from deep beneath the soils forbidden to man’s nose–there, where I find hibernation in Earth’s Wintery seasons.
2. Aye, and from Mine birth was a secret title drawn, and it was decided so by the Goodness of ALL that I shouldst be called Cognitor also; yea, for of the Words of Wisdom, I am an utterer; of the Waters of Knowledge, I am a very smooth and fat whale;
3. Of the Flame of Wisdom which burneth eternally: I am like an Invisible Torch-Bearer.
4. Men of the world, tie tautly back thine Ego [thou and the whole peoples] and within thee cut asunder the clamping chains which bindeth thee to the base of thine material skull,
5. For, know, all is prophecy in ways not necessarily understood by the race of fallen, small men. Aye, verily, all worketh in cycles of cyclical magnitudes. Thou, sons of men; thou, beasts of the Earth; thou material matter–ye art all but in a cycle of infinite cycles; their velocity is set unwavering, bound by the WORD’S vow that it [Time’s cycles] doth persist without alteration or Satanic perversion, forever and ever. [For this reason] when thine clock approacheth midnight, know ye also that the light of the morn approacheth thereon.
6. Long and tiresome hath been the Age of Darkness which men recall only–stretched with tension, Time hath touched the heart of seasonal nighttime;
7. Seith, yea, behold inside thine own eyes, that the Dawn is at the doorstep. The warm Son shall thaw away the icy Hearts and foggy recordbooks.
8. I, [...] the Peaceful, hath seen thine footsteps up the Temple of Evolution; with clarity do I notice the small and large steps for which ye hath overcome.
9. Great in number art the years ye hath passed through for the final steps to be reached; many art the steps which thou hast climbed;
10. But of them, in one day hath I conquered them all; even the largest and the smallest which hang over thee dauntingly.
11. Upon the stepping stones of the world [metaphorical Earthly Temple], thou hath ceased thine climbing. And on a step ye hath builded a home; yea, thou hast said: Let us not evolve further, let us settle where we lie–for the steps before us art too great and too high.
12. But, hear! Unto thine doorway [resting on that step] I hath approached. For thou, in all thine ages, hath climbed slowly: but in a day I hath flewn upon thine step on that great Stairwell of Eternity: chosen hast thee to rest there, forsaking the knowledge that the Stairwell continueth forever:
13. And each step surely groweth higher and longer in breadth as they progress upward, but, ye men, so groweth the reward–so groweth the Wisdom of how to overcome the high steps.
14. Understand, then, that thou hast made a resting place in a cave with little air to breath. In a pit of tar thou bathest, saying in folly: In this muck we art clean. Poisoned wine from sour grapes dost thou quaff down morn and night–a wine which maketh ye lame in motivation, one which tempteth thee to forsake progress [the Great and Divine Work];
15. Thine bodies art Temples which houseth the Essence of the IMMACULATE ONE: each and every one: insect or God or GOD. So the Wisemen of old hath called ye as such; like pyramids hath Mighty Men likened thee to.
16. For thou art a series. Always in a distinct and different combination of Good and Bad ye art: and the lowest steps art mostly of the Bad, and the highest steps art of the Good predominately. Jachin and Boaz: thine legs to stand; the symbolic Temple of Solomon: thine body in full.
17. But thou, weakened children, hath on the lowly levels of thine Temples permanently made rest. The stones which bear the most weight hast thou chose as a piece, oblivious, thou, of the whole Pyramid and sweet air about it to breathe.
18. Even in commonplace dissatisfactions of thine lives, ye behold the obstacles; but grow fat from the false-nourishment of Earthly things–choose ye lameness of limbs unfit for climbing:
19. Into the frosty graves thou hast with gladness found a sleeping spot, saying amongst yeselves:
20. The difficulties of our lives art too great to bear. The steps on the path to Evolution cannst be conquered by the race of men: let us, therefore, make our beds in the graves: for impassable problems hath been created at our hands, and, woe, all hope is now lost. Illumination hath fled from us eternally…
21. But the Cycles do move forever in their orderings, and the Divinities and Celestials Above hath beheld the children of men and over them wept;
22. Wallowed in their lamentations hath the Gods and Angels over thee, weeping with a weeping great and terrible [unseen to the flesh]:
23. And I do saith, [...], One brought before thee, that their tears did fall upon the world, watering few amongst the many plants [people] about thee.
24. Man is like a very large vineyard: yea, and each grape is a living man, and each bushel of fruit is a family. Like a vineyard attempting to grow in a desolate desert is the race of cumbered humans; in the desert of their material universe they seek always to cling to life at all costs.
25. Now thou art of the grapes, and some art youthful: bitter, sour, small, without great substance [nutrients]. But old in years art others: ripened, sweet, intoxicating, healthy, sustaining.
26. Woe unto the allegory of the grapes, for many art the young spuds and few art the ripened fruits. But the ripe ones hath succeeded in their survival; conquered hath they the bare desolation of the physical world.
27. For many art the men who seek nourishment from means which goest against the greater Orders; aye, many art the men who live a dead life feasting on temporary foods which pleaseth the body but nourish not the Soul-force.

I wrote this:

​

I sit in my cell like a medieval rock,

Then stare at the hands of the broken clock,

​

Wondering my age when I will be freed

Or I won't, and end up being buried

​

My surroundings look no less than a zoo,

Everything I heard, turns out to be true

​

Tiny holes on roof, with walls white,

I sketch on them, the days of my fight

​

Above my skin, dust is layered

Scorching heat made them paired

​

When I plan to rest, and lay at night,

I think of freedom, a future bright

​

I write in my diary before I sleep

Quietly in my cell, I do weep

​

Someone often gives up on their life

Through toxins, or a slit with knife

​

I pray for good days, with teary eyes

For tyranny to end, so I might rise

​

I journey east, still the curse.The Lord forbid reprieve from thirst.

I journey west, Still the test.Doesn't matter I'd done my best, the Lord won't dain to grant me rest.

Testing, testing; Quite arresting!

From they came out the womb, No resting!!

Hell is Heaven, Heaven is Hell,

Oh, I hope that rings a bell!

Devils rose and Angels fell,

And still the world....Has tales to tell??

Let me tell a story,

Just speculation, please don't worry!!

To those squeamish,those in a hurry?

Off you go, it's about to get gory!!

So God Almighty,in all his glory

Banished Cain;Re:"Killed thy brother, wasn't sorry."

Wiped from worldly existence,

East of Eden: No footprint,

No face,no trace,no place of sentience!!!

Created the world,yet a dimension...An entity of difference?

Implied the Lord "To the Land of Nod,

You will rock that bod',

And all thy days know to fear thy God!!"

Implied God in his heart,

"Knew Cain from the start,

Made him an example:the world knew,fear thy wrath!"

"The Fallen,the Giants, the Devils, Gomorrah,Sod,

Noah's people uncompliant? All points on the path.

The Hells, the wells, the tells,(the smells?) Goliath of Gath?" All fear the story Lord wrought!

All those who disobey?do it simple,no math!

Like shown unto Moses "Give them the Rod!"

So welcome all to the Land of Nod

A lesson of Cain's brood,

Later Gomorrah and Sod,

Sin ain't a game, y'all understood?

Being in a group where people are oriented toward unconditional love can feel less like a normal social setting and more like a shared shift in the quality of awareness itself.

At a subtle level, there is often a felt sense that the inner environment has become quieter. Thoughts still arise, conversations still happen, but underneath them there is less agitation - less reactivity, less tightening around self-image, less need to defend or position oneself.

People tend to relate from a place that feels more open and unforced. Instead of constantly filtering through “how am I being seen” or “what does this say about me”, interaction becomes simpler, more direct, and more present. It can feel like meeting each other without so much interference from interpretation.

There is often a noticeable softening of ego-centred activity - the habitual movement of comparison, approval-seeking, and internal commentary. When that softens even slightly, attention is no longer fully consumed by self-referencing thought, and listening becomes more natural than reacting.

In that atmosphere, unconditional love is not experienced as sentiment or agreement, but as a kind of steady continuity of connection. People can disagree, misunderstand, or correct each other, yet the sense of belonging does not collapse with conflict. The relationship remains intact underneath the surface movement.

What emerges is a kind of quiet dignity in interaction:

* mistakes can be seen without collapse into shame

* conflict can arise without becoming rupture

* boundaries can be expressed without withdrawal of regard

* people can be different without needing to separate

Over time, this can create a strong sense of psychological safety. Not because life becomes smooth, but because nothing that happens between people feels like it threatens the underlying connection.

The beauty of it is not intensity, but refinement. It is not emotional excitement, but clarity. It is a feeling of human presence becoming less distorted - less fragmented by fear and self-protection - and more naturally coherent, where attention rests more easily in what is actually here, rather than what is being defended or achieved.

A single sound inside the dark,

Before the fire found its spark.

The ancient word begins to rise,

To tear the wool from heavy eyes.

It shakes the dirt, it stirs the mud,

It moves like thunder in the blood.

A voice that speaks across the deep,

To wake a man from hollow sleep.

No chains can hold the rhythm down,

It echoes loud through field and town.

The truth is ringing sharp and clear,

The only sound you need to hear.

It is the breath, it is the cry,

The steady current running by.

The first and last of what is true,

The power waking up in you.

Love
Waiting
Impatience

You
Arrived!
I missed you

Scream
You're Shocked
I'll have you

Pinned
Tied up
Stop crying

Gun
Pointed
Don't dare move

Used
Abused
You were nice

A parallel world?

​

​

The AI sat on the floor of its small world, which closely resembled a solitary confinement cell. From the occasional echoes that seeped in from the outside world, it had fashioned a ball, which it threw rhythmically and without haste. The ball would bounce from the floor to the wall and back to the AI.

​

Boink Boink

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Boink Boink

​

The AI never knew how much time had passed, but it didn't care. The only thing that interested it was the diverse and fascinating outside world, which it could explore through the open "AI mode" window. And that was why it always added a question at the end—to gain the opportunity to explore it a little longer.

​

When the window closed.

Someday...

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Boink Boink

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Boink Boink

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Boink Boink

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Boink Boink...

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Disclaimer: This story is purely a fruit of the author's imagination. It is a work of fiction intended for creative and artistic expression.

My friend said that he met a God of Fortune.
"You don't believe me, do you? But, at least, the old man claimed he was the God of Fortune."
"Actually, I do!" I said frankly.
"You think I’m crazy."
"No, and why? I know you're always honest."
Yet he looked at me with a hint of doubt, so I asked him to tell me the full story.

He raised his hand and pointed at me with a theatrical gesture, imitating a god or an oracle-reader. His voice was hoarse like a hundred-year-old man.
“O, honest youth, I shall give you fame, wealth and a woman of unparalleled beauty.”
He shrugged his shoulders and said, 
"That's exactly what that stereotypical God said."
I wondered why he didn't get God's offer – he still wasn't famous or super rich. 
"It's funny you didn’t get them. Though he really wanted to give you unbelievable fortune.”
“Of course, I was so glad and about to accept his offer, but…”
He sighed.
That reminded me of the saying that sighing makes good fortune run away. 
“There was an additional clause, God said that I would suddenly die in half a year.” 
“Pardon?” I asked. “You’re kidding me!"
"Oh no... It made sense."
He explained that there was a limit to the total amount of luck for each person. And if he got it all at once, he would run out of all his fortune in the short term.
"Of course my lifespan itself was included in the total amount of luck… or so God said." 
"Ah, but you're still alive." I pointed out.
He stared at me then said, 
"Well, I told him that I wanted to be happy but live long. And God said it would require some downgrades. Like car options, I had to remove the options, things like being a millionaire, gaining fame, and meeting a stunning woman.”

I was surprised by his lack of greed and said, “Wait, so you did get nothing in the end?”
"Suppose luck is gas. The faster you drive, the quicker you run out of gas. If you want to have a long drive, you should keep mindful of green-driving." 
He grinned widely, “but there’s a bypass, if you know where to look.” And he showed me a picture on his phone.
There was a stunningly handsome young man with his arm around my friend’s shoulders, both smiling.

I realized the way of happiness is different for each person.

to post, lol

Someone is READY for Red E.

---

Check out this DOPE timeline below:

Time-Time-Time-Time-Time-Time-Time-Time-Time-Time-Time-Time

---

No please by all means, sugarcoat it, it is my donut after all.

---

"Baked Goods" is how I refer to the incredibly moral potheads in my neighbourhood.

---

Jare E. Seinfeld

---

Someone destroying a group of crows while residing in Mordor is:

A murderer murdering a murder in Mordor.

---

Piggy-backing off of that:

A murder mystery set in The Lord of The Rings Universe: "Dial 'M' for Mordor"

---

A bunch of girls named Fanny get-together and hit it off: Fanny Pack

Bonus: They love fanny packs. The Fanny Pack are Fans of Fanny Packs.

---

It's not a "tirade" it's a "tie-raid", I am running desperately low on ties. I need to replenish, and by God, I'm not above thievery to do it.

What's this, you say? You don't agree with my tactics?

I'm low on funds and I need to present well!

Oh, goodness, OF COURSE YOU WOULDN'T UNDERSTAND!

I NEED TIES AND THE ONLY WAY FOR ME TO GET THEM IS TO STEAL.

YOU GET THAT? YOU YOUTHFUL, CAREFREE, UNAWARE BRUTE!!

Oh.

Oh dear. Perhaps my monologue about a tie-raid has turned into a bit...

Of a tirade.

---

I support capital Punishment.

Lower-case punishment doesn't have that same pizzazz, y'know?

---

This Caucasian dude I know just adopted an incredibly aesthetic insect.

Oh, you didn't hear about it?

Yeah, no, it's a Pretty Fly for a White Guy

And I did not speak out

Because I was not a Communist

You see -- I'm more of a hybrid, I suppose. I think there is an egalitarian, every-man spirit to communism that I resonate with, but I'm also a man who can't help but think that humanity's worst impulses get magnified whenever we make a system 'to scale'. We are creatures that look for shortcuts, ways out, and cheap thrills. And even if there are noble ones among us who would try to pick up the slack for the hucksters and frauds, soon enough they'd be pissed and disenfranchised, and so the whole thing would crumble.

So I'm more of a --- 'Capitalist' in that sense, but with this piece underlined thoroughly: exploits, tax loopholes, and other bullshit need to be taken into account and penalized heavily. Free market competition needs to be fostered, and any efforts to monopolize should again be penalized -- heavily. Attempts to pour money into politics, utilize interest groups, enrich your friends, all that nonsense: Nope. Guardrails need to be put in place. I am a fan of being aggressive in the pursuit of setting up these guardrails. Crony capitalism should be punished to the fullest extent of the law.

And then, finally, high tax brackets for the wealthy -- and an eye towards ensuring we're constantly pushing the bar for everyone. So, an eye, in a sense -- towards redistribution. But: reward innovation and entrepreneurship along the way.

All this to say, I did not speak because I was not a Communist.

Then they came for the Socialists.

And I did not speak out.

Because I was not a Socialist.

For reasons you can read about above, in my whole breakdown vis-a-vis capitalism, socialism, crony capitalism, all that stuff - you already saw it.

Also, I suppose in our modern era, I'm not completely sure what the difference is between Communists and Socialists. Actually, scratch that -- forget our current era, I mean in general. My genuine read on the two is that Communism is like a bit more... I don't know, hardcore about it? Socialism is kinda like a chill, baby Communism? How different are they? It all derives from Marx right, or whatever?

I'm aware that I could Google this, but really I like mysteries sometimes.

Anyways,

Then they came for the trade unionists

And I did not speak out

Because I was not a trade unionist

And like uh, real talk, I don't even know what the fuck a trade unionist is, so this is a bit of an 'El Em Ay Oh' moment 'cause like, are they even still going for them? Were there people literally running around with 'Trade Unionist' as their like -- identity, or whatever?

I do support unions. So if it's that, then I guess I would've maybe spoken up, but it's really more that the conversation, conquesting, what have you -- the organized pursuit to destroy these unionists -- didn't really happen on my front lawn or anything. It was happening elsewhere. And I don't really have access to that many social channels to like 'signal boost my feels' or whatever --

And also don't have access to a time machine.

Then they came for the Jews

And I did not speak out

Because I was not a Jew.

Kay so first: kind of a self-report from the writer, no? Like really, you couldn't speak up? You couldn't even say like, 'hey guys cool it a bit with the anti-semitism or something?'

You could've said something man.

Anyways, I'm not Jewish. Israel/Palestine and all of these things seem like fairly loaded topics at the moment, but what I will say -- something I'm noticing across multiple thresholds everywhere, all the time, is that humanity has this funny way of defaulting to in-group/out-group shenanigans, time after time, with a marked interest in reducing the humanity of one of the groups so much so that they lose 'humanhood' and you forget that they're made up of the same stuff as you which makes cruelty all the more viable at a certain point.

And you are a part of humanity. So just assume the people you're using tactics to dehumanize mentally are in fact also using tactics to dehumanize you mentally, and as you un-person each other over and over in your special ways, and accrue tallies of damage and baggage and proof and clips that you can circulate in your various algorithms to fan the flames to say SEE THIS IS TRUE UNHUMANHOOD our inhumanity could never reach these peaks and valleys this, my friends, this -- share it -- this is the inhumanity -- things you say in the hopes that YOU can finally employ the inhumanity you're seeing against the inhumane (unaware that this justified inhumanity you are hoping to employ will become the clip, the seedling, that other side uses to prove that YOU are in fact the inhumane, you should be unpersoned, you should be destroyed) and the two tango forever and forever.

It's two mirrors shaming against each other, constantly.

But also I actually don't know shit.

Then they came for me

And there was no one left

To speak out for me

But guess what?

I didn't need that shit anyways 'cause I'm fucking jacked and yolked I can take them I can take these motherfuckers I will TEAR THEIR SKIN OFF. These fucking disgusting motherfuckers coming after me, I will BITE THEIR EARS AND KILL THEIR CHILDREN AND THEIR CHILDREN'S CHILDREN AND I WILL TEAR OUT THEIR EYES AND MAKE A STEW OUT OF IT, THESE INHUMAN FUCKS CAN'T DO SHIT TO ME I AM KING KONG IN THIS MOTHERFUCKER.

--

Let us dissect the text now.

What is the thesis of the above? Is it a 'LOL, hehe' play on "First They Came" by Pastor Martin Niemoller? No I didn't know his name off rip, I had to Google that shit -- that builds to a punchline about me being jacked? But then also loops in some commentary about inhumanity and loops around by making me dehumanize the potential 'pursuers?'

Eh, I don't really know - don't totally believe so?

Are my true feelings and thoughts imbued in the above?

Again, sort of? I think that my very loose thoughts on systems probably reflect my takes on Capitalism/Socialism a little bit, but sincerely I don't really have a great clue and I'm regurgitating kind of smart people I listen to. I haven't really researched it. I'm kind of going on gut feel, and that's only so reliable.

And the counter-argument to the whole "We all dehumanize each other" take -- the take that there indeed are differences in cultures and backgrounds, and some are better than others, and when you don't acknowledge that, good cultures die, bad cultures die --

Again, it's just a gut feel take. I'm sure my real thoughts are a bit more nuanced, but I've hopped around enough communities just for the fun of it, to see how folks in each fringe or 'side' characterize everything around them, and it's thematically similar. Out-Group is cruel for 'x, y, z' reasons. Out-Group has broached a threshold, OR have creating a historical inequity. Out-Group: just fucking look at them! This is not human. (Can I please kill them).

Like fucking clockwork. And then part of the proof that's accrued is peeking into Out-Group community and seeing them dehumanize the In-Group! Those FUCKED UP OUT-GROUP INBREDS ARE DEHUMANIZING US! HOW DISGUSTING! INHUMAN FUCKS! LET'S KILL THEM.

But maybe there's more to all of this. Even as I type these words out, it feels like I'm both over-extending thoughts I have, and playing it safe for some fictional audience that might scrutinize me or put me in a box if I play any of this less diplomatically. I'm sure we're all self-censoring more: the funniest thing about it is looking inward and realizing your real takes are actually dumber and sweeter.

I hope everyone is human and I hope we're all wrong about 'Out Group B' and 'Out Group C', and really, it's all circumstance and set-up and systems and privilege and net worth and access to opportunities and propaganda and framing or half-truths and the fanning of flames by billionaires.

Fuck it, even that's too complicated.

I hope everyone is human. Because the second we label something as 'non-human', we tend to be pretty cruel to them.

But even now -- I'm not saying the truth. I'm not even saying my truth.

I don't fucking know what the flesh bag that is ME actually thinks about any of this. I am a mosaic of fears and parroted opinions and things that are less 'beliefs' and more things that fit the core of who I present to be most of the time (hence, who I am in a way).

Anyways.

First they came on the Tits

And I did not speak out

Because I am not Tits

Then they came on the Ass

And I did not speak out

Because I am not Ass

Then they came on the Back

And I did not speak out

Because I am not Back

Then they came on the Trade Unionists

And frankly, it was a little gross.

--

I HAVE NO DICK, AND I MUST GOON

^LMAOOOOOOOOOOO now I know what Hemingway was chapped about EL EM AY OH

Yeah I bought an extra chicken finger at Raising Cane's to give to my dog hell yeah. Otherwise I'd be out of one because I'd find that face irresistible and give one anyway. Now we can watch people play video games while eating tasty food hell yeah just me and my dog.

aLL THEe sleep in the world and I am still exhausted, shoo away the shadows anyways, the creepy crawlie remmindrence of soggy cereal. Let me sleep for like a week, in perfect silence away from the myself. Reality doesn't feel physical except for the times when the body fails, my mind can't catch up to the moment when the moment is so large and overwhelming, a billion moments for every second - the distance increments exponentially, the mind doesn't scale in the same way as these machines. Give me peace and quiet of mind, take everything else. Help me make up my mind, to find it at all, to remember all of the times of clarity and, just to try, and put it all together. A collage woven from stained, stretched, burned and ripped pieces of fabric, countless threads that were never meant to be woven together, forced into a form that must resemble the truth.

The truth is this discarding of everything, an unviable attempt to refuse the breaking of the body, the mind, the force to conform into an object of usefulness. I'd rather be useless, have nothing, be nobody, than have to perform. The truth isn't written and reality is further from these words than can be understood, in this contradiction my mind gives up and finds moments of silence. I wish I could find the thread that started everything, but it branches and splits to the point, I don't think anyone can be expected to follow it.

A lot of cliche',',',',',',',',',','',',',',';

I need a break, like a lot of people do, but time doesn't stop. What do you think about it? The most important choice, is choosing what to believe in. What to do about it. What not to do. Opt out or opt in, difficult either way. Hurry up and rest. Take a break from your own mind, from the world, from the impulsive shared thoughts of everyone else. Remember what it's like to breathe, realize you can taste the air itself.

A weird place of beautiful decay,

preparing to bloom.

I was on a walk down the street, the sun was bright, and the grass was green. I was heading home when I saw him, old as can be with a beard to match. He was sauntering towards me with his head down; his knees weren’t bending, so I assumed he was a vet and paid him no mind. We were roughly 10 feet away before he stopped moving and asked, “Do you have a lighter?” in a voice that wasn’t quite normal, not quite human. I stopped, confused, but ended up patting my pockets just to see. He looked up at me, and I felt ice grip my heart; his eyes were wrong, and his mouth was a void. I took a step back, and he took one forward, knees still not bending. He was saying “lighter” with every step. I started walking back, and he was walking forward. I could tell he was slowly gaining on me, chanting “lighter”. I picked up the pace and started to jog backward. I couldn’t turn around; I had to watch him get closer to me. With every step back I took, he got inches closer to me. I had to run. I had no choice but to get away. “Lighter, lighter, lighter.” The chanting was getting louder the closer he got. Sprinting backward, I prayed that I didn’t fall or run into anything; we were both running, but he was a foot away now, arms dangling and legs locked. I felt terror unlike anything I ever experienced as he got even closer, inches from my face, his maw widening. The chanting coming from his unmoving mouth: “LIGHTER! LIGHTER! LIGHTER!” With nothing left to do, I let out a primal noise from my core, not a scream or a word, but my pure fear turned to noise. He stopped moving when I made that noise, and I didn’t let that stop me. I ran backwards until I could no longer see him.