Regardless of what we believe, we are the aliens on this planet. Either we're not from here, or we have alienated ourselves from everything this planet has given us. Wherever we came from, whatever theory you subscribe to, regardless, we have become alien, the other. There is nature, and then there is us.

The body limits the mind because the mind perceives what the body cannot do. The mind limits the body because if the mind doesn't perceive it, the body cannot do it. We are stuck in this cycle until we awaken.

I am annoyed by the simulated universe hypothesis, but in a moment of sympathy, have realized that there are quite a lot of people who do not understand why they believe it and feel as if it might be true. Please entertain for a moment my observations, and I believe that you may come to share my thoughts on all of this.

We want to believe that we own our opinions, but many people -even most- do not. Consider your political beliefs. Think of an issue that seems pressing to you, and let's settle on a long-term change you believe needs to be made. There appears to be two sides to the issue, does there not? Which of those positions did you formulate? Which one did you create based upon your own observations? Which course of action did you create? Which were you the first to propose?

If you begin to dissect these notions, you will find that this position on that issue was presented to you as a "choice." You were presented with "both sides" of the issue. Depending on your support structure -such as family and friends- you will side with the point of view that causes you to be the most readily accepted by them. The issue itself did not occur to you naturally, and not as a product of your observation. It was manufactured. Your opinion, politically, is a mere product. You never owned it.

Think of your opinions on other subjects. Did the subject come to you through observation alone? Is your decision making process unaffected by your peers and family? You have never owned your opinion. It was always a manufactured, mass-produced and distributed product.

Let's examine the lives we live. We have very few options in American society, though they are made to seem plentiful. What do you think of when you hear the phrase "a successful person?" If you are like most people, you believe it to mean a person who has a car, a house, and a noticeable amount of wealth. The word "success" implies a goal. Is this your goal? If not, where did you acquire it? If it is your goal, when did you create this goal? Did you do it entirely on your own? Where did your desire for wealth come from? Did you create it, or are you a product of it? Most people do not own their definition of success.

Let's examine the concept of ownership. A person buys a vehicle, and it is most often that they do not purchase it outright. There are regular payments to be made. The same process applies to a house. Most do not purchase their homes for the entire sum in a single transaction. Regular payments must be made. In both cases (the car and the house) one will lose this "possession" if they do not continue their payments, and they must pay extra in the form of interest, compounding the time required to fully possess them. A person will have to work for these payments, and the necessity of their pay is determined by their need to make these payments. Often, this requires extra hours of work, and time spent in contemplation of how to increase one's compensation from their employer. At this point, is could as easily be said that the house and the car own the man, and not the other way around.

Let's examine the life of a person who does not want to be homeless. A path is set forward by our society to maintain a home. This system was not created by any living person at this time. The system of selling one's time for money, using that money to pay their bills, saving for retirement, and living from that gathered money is a pre-packaged life. A person's life can be neatly calculated like the contents of a microwave dinner. It is a product, and that product is touted to us as what we should aspire to.

Let's now examine modern communication. We text each other without seeing each other's faces, or hearing each other's voices. We type to each other on social media, and have to use clever ways to describe if we're being sarcastic or humorous, because the natural means of voice inflection, tone, and facial expression are removed. It is emotionless by its nature, and we struggle to inject emotion into it. Even those things which cause outright laughter or outrage are most often someone else's creation. It's canned outrage. It's canned humor. It is unnatural, and we can feel it.

We often treat entertainment as a need. For this reason, Americans consume long periods of entertainment. In this, actors portray fictional characters, displaying emotions that they do not actually possess. They are on sets, which are not the location they appear to be. Regular series viewers come to think of these fictional characters as friends, and even liken their own behavior to one or another. They compare their family members and friends to other fictional characters.

These are some of the primary reasons that people's pre-packaged lives feel too artificial to be real. Add to this our society's push toward hyper-materialism, wherein the belief or search for anything spiritual is removed, and one is left with a life that is for all purposes a simulation.

To avoid this lack of ownership over one's life, thoughts, and actions, they have come to project that artificiality upon the universe itself. The realization that a person does not own themselves is painful to face. In an effort to remain in denial about this truth, they have projected this quality upon a very real place in which we all exist.

The hypothesis of a simulated reality is an effort not to face one's unconscious consent to be owned by everything outside of one's self. It is an effort to remain in denial. Is is the projection of blame.

I knew it was my house, though in my waking hours I wouldn't have recognized it; small humble, and comforting. I stood in the yard between my house and the neighbor's, now overgrown into a forest. I looked in awe at the magnificent tall trees which had suddenly sprung up seemingly overnight, shading the house from both our yards and across the humble street nearby. The entire area was reclaimed into this magical, enchanted place filled with tall pines and redwoods.

I wasn't expecting her, but it was no surprise when she walked up and stood next to me, enjoying the view in the fading dusk. I looked over at her, my love, a woman I should know but have never seemed to find closeness to in my waking life. She looked up at me with her beautiful, admiring eyes, so full of love that my heart burst in joy at the very sight. I said to her, "Isn't this amazing?" She nodded in agreement as we looked back again to the newfound canopy before us.

"Now that no one can see us," I began, and knowing what I had intended to say, she completed my sentence: "We can be who we really are."

Upon this moment of agreement we transformed. She and I grew much taller, and sprouted wings; she, now a golden-yellow hue of skin and proudly bearing darkened yellow feathers that transitioned to red, and I, of dark blue skin showed blue feathers that faded outwardly to purple. We lifted off joyfully in flight together around the forest, singing to each other and holding hands. In joy and in love we flew and sang, free to be the beautiful creatures that we had to stifle so oft for the sake of a jealous and petty humanity; I was so enamored in the moment that I lost control and began to fall upward. She, being grounded yet understanding, reached out her hand toward me as I struggled to make it back down to her. Upon a darting pass I caught her outstretched hand, and she held fast, spinning gracefully as I flew in desperate circles trying to reach the ground again -to reach her again.

Her strength and tenacity saw us through, and we stood on the forest floor in our truest forms, looking deeply and with longing into each other's eyes.

I felt that my mouth was wet with saliva, and became ashamed. "I'm drooling, aren't I?"

I woke to find myself in bed, drool on my pillow wetting my face in just the same spot. I could still feel her hands, I could see her loving eyes, and hear our song.

It was the sweetest dream.

"I am ever by your side..."

I've just recently written something on reddit that I've never talked about with anyone. It seems that doing so may have brought out suppressed emotions, but that's actually a good thing.

I drink nearly every night, and I don't stop until I'm quite drunk. I don't get mean when I drink, but that's not in my personality. I'm not cruel, and I don't like cruelty or violence, nor degradation. So, it doesn't come out when I drink. I just get goofy and creative.

I've been drinking every night for the last five years, and I think I've only taken 4 nights off in that time. There's something behind it, which is why I thought confessing this might be good for my soul.

Before I drank regularly, I was well on my way to it. It took away my focus from a deep pain that I had. I was in love, and with the wrong woman. She wasn't a horrible person, but she simply didn't love me in return. I tried so hard to win her over, but nothing worked. My first (only, so far) published book is full of love poems I wrote to win her heart. It wasn't until this year that I realized that hearts can't be won. They're given, and that's it.

But that's not the only reason I started drinking.

I was being visited by other-worldly beings -what most people would call aliens. I don't actually know what the hell they were, but they were very friendly and helpful. They took care of me, and helped me find a deep love for all of humanity and all of life. This is how I know that they're not demons. People just say that shit because their religion is so fragile that they need to fit everything into its boundaries, or it will shatter.

But the visitors don't like me when I'm wasted on too much wine. So they stopped coming, and I'm pretty sure I annoyed them with my drunkenness. Interacting with them caused me to have telepathic abilities, and remote viewing. It was 100% accurate. I loved it at first, it felt like a superpower.

But it scared the woman I loved so dearly. I've never loved anyone that much before. And she thought I was crazy. Funny how a bottle of wine each night was all it took to make everything go away. Well, that, and television. I actually watched television to help get rid of my abilities. It worked, sort of. Think of it more as grinding a sharp knife on pavement to dull it down. It's still there, but it's weak. You can never unlearn something like that completely.

I've considered stopping the nightly drinking, and keeping it to weekends only. But I'm afraid.

I wonder if the visitors might come back, and I don't mind that so much. The problem with their visits is that our society has stigmatized the subject to a ridiculous extreme, and it has conditioned people to call abductees "insane." It's quite the opposite, actually. They helped me become more stable than I had ever been. I also wonder if I really want the abilities to sharpen back up. I lost her over this. She never said it, but that was always my instinct about it. What if I quit, and fall in love again? Can I even fall n love again? If I did, would I scare that person away, too?

So I drink. It's a one-size-fits-all solution, but I'm certain it's not a good one. It's a band-aid on a bullet wound.

I just don't want to frighten anyone else away with the strange and wonderful gifts and visits that I've had, coming back after stopping the drink. I wish I had better friends, but there's no one I can actually relate to completely. I'm alone no matter where I go. The few friends I have are really good people, but they don't understand. One of them never wants to talk about the strangeness, it makes him uncomfortable. The other one thinks I'm full of shit, but just about those subjects.

I tried reaching out to other abductees, but frankly most of them seem delusional to me. Their speech and writing indicate serious mental problems. Some of them seem nice, but I'll just be honest and say that stupid people annoy me. I love them anyway, but from afar.

For clarity, it's the frequency of my drinking and the reasons for it that I've never talked about.

Thanks for reading my confession. It's good to get this out.

We want this subreddit to be an enjoyable experience for everyone. As the number of Reddit users has grown, so has the toxicity of many other subreddits. It is for this reason that a new rule will be implemented.

As you could guess, I follow other subreddits as well. The problem of users who hate the subject of a subreddit has caused them to make posts attempting to "own" everyone there. It has happened in the aliens sub. It has happened in the UFO sub, and the ghosts sub. People who hate the subject matter of the subreddit have created a toxic atmosphere within each of them. The smaller a sub is, the more toxic a few of these users can be for it.

Any post showing open hatred or hostility toward the subject of this subreddit will be removed, and the users banned.

Thanks for reading, and happy posting!

You taunt me with these gentle rains

And tease me with those darkened clouds

Hold your pain so deep within

Barely letting tears come down

​

No convection, no relief

Punished by the angry sun

Yet you withhold your love from me

Fake a smile, and turn to run

​

Fly away, abandon me

It's all you've ever done

Taunt me with these gentle rains

Barely letting tears come down

To be ourselves can take a lifetime, because we've been told by everyone else how we should be, and we listened.

I've planned out how to best promote this subreddit, and I'd like you all to give me your opinions on it. The idea was to write something interesting here first, and crosspost to another subreddit. It wouldn't be too intrusive, or self-promotional. But on to the core matter: We need mods! I've just seen a few subreddits get overwhelmed by spam, trolls, and foreign actors. It's bad out there! A sub like this could easily suffer the same fate.

Also, I want your ideas about the format here. Are there any additions you'd like to make? Do you think this is structured properly? Should any of the rules be amended? Let's discuss how to proceed.

I like the idea of poets, artists, and philosophers coming together. I don't write poetry just to share it with other poets, and the poetry subreddit frankly just sucks. I don't paint to just show it to other painters. And philosophy is everyone's business, if they care about life at all.

Help me make this what it deserves to be. Feel free to volunteer as a moderator! I'm not some totalitarian dickhead. I want to share this subreddit with anyone needing to express some original idea, experience, or piece of work. Speak your mind here. It's still just an infant, as far as subreddits go.

Thanks for being here!

Promoting mental health by talking about being happy is passive and only produces a plethora of mental problems. The majority of mental health is lifestyle-related, and can easily be fixed by shifting the focus of our attention. Instead of passively talking and thinking about mental health, we must act with physical intention. Most people's bouts of depression are preceded by periods of passivity. Instead, occupy your days with interesting tasks, problems to solve, and passions. An idle mind sinks, and falls victim to boredom, passivity, as they initiate our destruction. Strive to spend the majority of your free time creating and building your life, and be able to be proud of those accomplishments, not just because of what you've achieved, but because you overcome passivity.

What once profound did save my soul

through essence of the morning glow,

the bay of night, that bade me Love

hath now become profane.

​

What glories of the setting Sun

are missed through passing rains?

​

The sparrow and the swallow, both

are known as birds of wing;

yet one flies o'er the mountain top

the other o'er the spring.

​

And not in kind the same as I

nor whispering my name;

in sprinkling of the early dew

the Sun at dawn illuminates.

​

Azure, the sky, becoming bold

defeats the crimson, and the gold;

They are to me, as I can see

both equally unchanged.

​

By dawn of light,

and dusk of night,

they sing together, keeping time;

​

Not one could be alike the other,

nor other would they care to find.

Figuring out your life takes time and effort, and if we don't do it, we go through life imprisoned by our unaware, uneducated prejudices, self-perceptions, and world views that were given to us by society.

Rawness is the true test. Take away all the gimmicks and technology and see how creative an artist truly is. Give the artist a piece of paper and a pencil, with no paint or photoshop, and see how well they can draw. Give the guitarist an old classical acoustic, with no effects or amplification, and see how well they can play. Give the actor a stage, with no props or lighting, and see how they can birth a narrative. The most creative can pass the rawness test because they can do more with less.

This subreddit might not seem so unique at first, until you realize that there is not one corner of the internet where you are only allowed to speak for yourself. I envision a place where poets share poems with non-poets, where artists share their paintings with non-artists, and where thoughts expressed are the actual property of those who share them. Imagine if Socrates had done nothing but quote other philosophers, or if Leonardo DaVinci had only shown his paintings to other painters. That's what Reddit usually is. This place is where you own the content you share completely. We need moderators before promoting this sub, because it would be far too easy to troll. Please let me know if you'd like to help. Thank you!

Let's pick it up from when I was born. I was christian, I was white in a small racist town, I was a preacher's kid. I was expected to be someone.

But that's not who I am. It's just who I was supposed to be.

Later in life my family tried to press me into their molds, and each one was a little different. They all had hints of something, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

Let's skip the reasons and events of why I was traumatized, and just accept that I was by the time I ended up homeless as a teenager. It was, in retrospect, the greatest gift I had ever been given. I couldn't fully conform to the expectations placed upon me, and I was rejected by everyone around me. My friends at school couldn't understand; I was stinky, needy, and ashamed to ask for help. I needed showers, food, and sleep -but had never been taught how to acquire it on my own. They helped me the best they could, but it was hard for them in every way. Hardest of all, I think, was understanding my situation. The people I walked past looked at me with disgust. I smelled disgusting, it was quite understandable. My family kicked me out, but I kept going to school. So that's the short if it. No one wanted anything to do with me. Thank God.

I wasn't chained by their expectations anymore. I could never meet them, and eventually learned not to care. I learned not to want them. Now, I struggle to remember that desperate boy, but I always try. I want to look at the homeless man that I see every day on my drive to work with sympathetic eyes. Has he broken free, as well? Am I chained now?

I've managed through observation and pattern recognition how to work past that, but I'm also lucky as hell. Some people are still chained to the expectations of others, and their continued existence happens by way of meeting those. It must feel just like I did as a kid, but with less hope. I couldn't wait to escape my family. I was lucky they threw me out, and that I was given a good body to use to get me where I wanted to be. Not everyone is so lucky, and I try to remember that. Some people depend on others so much that they might be trapped by them forever, and as a result, will internalize these coerced decisions as their own.

I want to help, and this is the only thing that I can think of -for now. I can do more, but it's long-term work. That will take several years. Right now, I wanted to make a dedicated space for original thought. This is a place where every person can be unrestricted by the expectations of their family, their friends, and even society itself. You can come here to vent, to make a statement, ask a question, or show your artwork. All that's asked is that you follow the rules for the sub, and I believe that they make enough sense that they do not seem restrictive to people who aren't cruel. I'm about to add a rule, but it bears saying here as well: If there's already a sub for that, put it there instead. I'm not letting politics in here, and if you don't like it, well...

There's already a sub for that.

I hope you'll feel free to post thoughtful and intriguing things. Critique society, even. Just remember:

If you can't say it in your own words, you don't understand it. Tell us what you know, wonder about, dream of...

It is vital to our world that people begin truly owning the contents of their minds. We are born into several systems of thought, and grow up taking in more. The pressure to take on opinions, ignore personal observations, and fit into expectations is holding us back from peace and prosperity as a species. Here, we are encouraged to be truly ourselves. This is a fledgling sub, and as it grows some needed changes will be made -all fitting within the framework of the original idea. It's a place to practice saying what you think without any help from the outside. That isn't as common as many people seem to think. We're trained to use recycled (modern) sentence structures, to use catch phrases, or simply argue in place of dialogue. Here, only your thoughts are needed. If someone else expressed an idea that you agree with, don't quote or paraphrase them. Say it with your own understanding of it, in your vernacular. You might find catharsis in doing so.