The Personal Experience of Somebody|
Competitive society must not be for everyone. It's not very cooperative. Thank god for computers and an overwhelming bombardment of distraction. It made it easy to become antisocial from bad experiences, including being mugged, immediately followed by a program on the Discovery channel about monkeys that kill other monkeys. Sometimes the universe seems intentional, doesn't it?
I watched movies, and loved video games except I never had much fun playing them. There's stylized violence and gore in everything. I finally couldn't stand it anymore, and cold turkey was a revealing way to take Hollywood out of my life. I'm left with an impression of movies and porn. I didn't even notice when they were a part of my life, but it's evident now, and I feel deeply buried under a collage of sexualized action and drama.
It's not just the entertainment experience. I've always felt frustrated at what we do to each other. Earlier I had begun writing and began this website in early 2000 something. A sort of evolving diary. It seems weird that to this day I've received no feedback, although who reads blogs. But very strange things started to happen in my life, as if my life hadn't already been weird enough. I've told this story to a friend and they said it's called gang-stalking. An organization of people let you know they're following you, dropping hints here and there, and basically they let just that drive you crazy.
It's still going on 15 years later. And it worked, since I stopped doing art. Surrounded, with no way to escape unnatural relationships you try to do whatever they want. It makes the whole world feel like a conspiracy. I also felt angry and molested. It began to pervert this website as I continued writing, and in that desperation I relied on the internet for information, instead of thinking. That haste and anger was ruining. Yet more than ever I feel we need a moneyless government to dethrone corruption.
And ridiculous things continue happening. If I leave a bottle of water unattended, even at home, there's a good chance I'll feel drugged and get anxiety, unable to sleep, sometimes for days. Most recently I came home to find all my stuff immersed in some kind of strong chemical that made my throat feel like chalk from breathing it. I've been healthy my whole life, so why am I getting the feeling that I'll be dying young no matter what? Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse than never having a girlfriend ever again.
All I can do is sit around. They're just playing games with me. I'm told to keep doing art, so I've put this site back online. Things escalated after taking it down anyway, such as chemical bombs.
Certainly, things are messed up in the world. But it's hard for anyone to know exactly what value good or bad things might have. Nobody can be sure about what we should do. That doesn't excuse everything, proof in the pudding, and surely we know good things are being avoided. If we could only see through the propaganda, and the unconscious moving parts of our addictions taken advantage of. We're in a state of transition, becoming conscious from something animal. We have to try, and never give up. The truth will always be there to pass every test, and evil will always avoid it.
The best experience I had was a community living situation. In exchange for 20-30 hours of work a week you had a private room and good healthy food. Not having to drive to work every day saved gas. The property was gorgeous, everyone cared for it, and each other. People had a lot of fun, with enough free time to develop themselves, they were themselves. As good and inspiriting as this kind of thing can be, community living suffers from the same thing that democracy does. Led by a group animal it's difficult to try anything different.
We need our ability to change, and be more than one thing. Even science would destroy our creative diversity if it were given absolute authority. After all, what would music be without a human touch.
In loving memory of Tananda
The following poems are old and could use some reworking.
Keeping them around in case that ever happens.
"on we sweep with threshing oar"
light from our love escaping the shore
sustaining a future creates much more
painting a picture doesn't change the canvas
cloak and dagger verbally
The coolness of fall air with warm winds
Looking down from the hill, baring witness
to the gargantuan, elephantine creatures of mist
lumbering as they explore and suffocate
the subconscious lights of the city at night
Surrounded by roaming humps of ocean
under an explosion of stars from a red sky
It's a different planet in the benevolent surf
drifting with bioluminescent flickers
quietly revealing your beauty
this burning grip twists
twitch tick tick...
growing bones echo thick
mind raw, raw and ready
muscle taut and ready, steady
twitch tick tick
twitch tick... tick... tock
tick tock, muscle taught
ready or not
a raw grip of twisted bliss
the rhythmic whip slips
twitch tick, life's demand
a design in the sand
where thoughts lie
clenching grip, skeleton hand
tick tock, muscles die
Opportunity in Motion
cherish the life to hear the whole story
let flow of your mind and learn from its body
ego is causing us blind information
breeding our fate by vain expectation
from primal invention to conscious flight
through evil and good this product of sight
a big dark room, look downstream
feeling what's real, pray, hope and dream
in matter of fact, play, work and sing
once upon a time this is happening
with our shit on the fan why risk everything
searching for light to make things right
good reason is seeking truth over might
with a canvas made by fluent math
all that you do creates a path
automaton prime, rendering us blind
feeding on the fine and fueling it with crime
do you think about our future
when you plan on your own time
automaton prime did you see our language die
do you know what's in our eyes, living such a lie
avoiding real solution
so a cradle guard can fly
automaton prime defining reason and rhyme
drawing every line and crafting every sign
spread this addiction in our infant information
captured our attention with cosmic valuation
spoiled our existence by extreme anticipation
neglecting all creation
selfish is defined
more entangled through time
we're all in
our turn to face the weather
without breaks or rewinding
it takes all reminding
every day is today
a tone of stability - tactical gravity
the perfect storm mathematically
keep enough distance and watch it bleed
the skeletal noise and expanding feed
an infant caught by the needs of a hawk
our greed caught in the hands of a clock
fortunes seedlessly shooken from rock
romantic that laying in perfect rest
reminding the wisdom i often neglect
with a body bleeding itself to death
driftwood creates omnious respect
bothered by unrealistic surrender
a bloodthirsty phantasmic defender
engendering this cosmic doubt
a runaway train on a suicide route
why give up - when bound to find out
the insurmountable coercion of time
confirming this wisdom of nature
thrusted untappedly - this mortality
to swim with sharks and join brutality
and growing powerfully
eyes voracious by rapacious thought
bone and flesh by sand and rock
a tear rolls and rips and drops
no message is sent not wickedly bent
by benevolent twist it stops
Good things take effort, which can be slow, powerless, and exhausting, but in the end, all of it amounts to something. Evil seeks the easy, most effective way out. Evil will even break reality to get what it wants, and perversions of nature conflict for analogue reasons.
A difference between fear and love exemplifies it. If you bully or manipulate someone they'll do what you want, but they'll never appreciate it, unlike a relationship grounded in friendship. People will care for, defend and risk their lives for something they love and can trust.
The idea that love can lose its appreciation, like happiness having no context without sadness, is forgetting that reality is astronomical. Unlike dealing in absolutes, a foundation based on love is not without the pain of existence.
Letting whatever may happen actually happen is avoiding the effort, the easy way out. We're challenged by addiction because chaos is objective, and our most profound waste of the universe would be failing to embrace it.
. . . .
To whom it may concern,
I'm sorry for getting so upset. I realize how violent it feels to be cursed at. I wasn't trying to be your enemy. I just wanted someone to talk to.
Isolation and entertainment put me in a survival mode at a young age. When you added conspiracy to that and chased me around, it brought up a disappointment at myself and society.
Ever since Boulder, something has been fake, and if it's about trust it would make sense. I'm not trying to prove anything.