Pointlessless

Logically, if intelligent life continues onward without an extinction event, there will inevitably be an end to history. The point at which every permutation of every given event has already occurred. Literally a moment when nothing is new, because nothing can be new. With infinity as our time frame, it is an unavoidable inevitability. Given, one far beyond a time we could ever conceive, and certainly one we will never live to see. Yet, that does nothing to deter the ineluctable truth of limited options in a limitless time frame.

Now this... this is a pretty bleak concept.

Imagine being born into a time in which it is literally impossible to do anything new. Feels pretty futile doesn't it? As if our lives didn't feel pointless enough, we've got this atom bomb of futility looming ever-present in our genetic future.

Once you come to terms with this fact, you knock down one of the massive barriers preventing happiness for both the people alive at that time, and for ourselves right now. By imagining this world, we can learn a bit more about life, its meaning (or lack thereof), and our innate desire for agency.

At least we can have the hope of doing something novel. It's something we dedicate our lives searching for or creating. But future people will be denied that at birth. No possibility of leaving their mark on history. All the history books have already been filled and shut.

On the other hand, does that necessarily void meaning in one's life?

How many times have you been in a situation that is as old as mankind itself? Ever been sweet on someone who didn't even realize you existed? Ever fought with the urge to spill your heart out to them for fear of rejection? Ever been stabbed in the back by a friend? Or cheated on by a lover? These things have happened in nearly identical ways since our earliest ancestors. It's part of the human condition, and it is timeless. Despite knowing you're involved in a situation that has been played out billions of times and billions of ways by billions of people, it doesn't remove the meaning that you feel from it, does it? You still feel like it matters, even if it only matters to you. You still feel a sense of agency even when the possibilities have previously been exhausted by others. Because they're not you. You are you. This is your experience on your path. It is yours alone.

Live your life. Fuck history.

Factured

Traditionally, humans were defined by gender, with women being indirectly defined as "unman."

Women fulfilled the role of "other." Whatever it meant to be a man, being a woman meant you were the opposite.

In recent years, these lines have blurred. What you were was no longer dependent upon the gender you were born with. One found meaning in oneself.

It was a new freedom for the individual. One could finally express whatever qualities one personally valued.

It was fine for a time, but global interconnectivity and access to media led to an overabundance of entertainment. We spent less time discovering what was in ourselves and more time discovering what was out there.

Epiphenomenally, we came to define ourselves by our interests and tastes in entertainment. Less by our personal values and philosophies.

Our sense of humor, attitude, and style pulled directly from the screen we shed our personal identities. Reality, now a construct of imagination distanced by a screen, no longer felt real.

If the camera didn't capture it, it might as well have not happened at all.

And what remains when our defining features are culled from without instead of within? Nihilistic movie-quoting sex fiends? Carbon copy media mugwumps? Hollow-hearted, dying to live, distractopheliacs overdosing in a futile effort to kill the pain? Hiding the only honest part of themselves behind a mask? Refusing to relate to others on any meaningful level? Denying the fact that each of us is hollow and lost within the black hole of ourselves?

Disemelevatored

Whenever someone is kind, generous, or helpful to me, my immediate reaction is WHAT ARE YOU AFTER, YOU MANIPULATING PIECE OF SHIT?! WHAT'S YOUR ENDGAME HERE?!

FUCK WITH ME AND I WILL STRIKE BACK WITH SUCH RIGHTEOUS VENGEANCE THAT THE NATIONS WILL KNOW THEMSELVES TO BE BUT MEN! THE SKY WILL CRACK OPEN AND MOUNTAINS WILL CRUMBLE IN MY WAKE! THE WHOLE OF HUMANITY WILL TREMBLE IN WIDE-EYED FEAR AT THE MENTION OF MY NAME!

I WILL DO THINGS TO YOU THAT WILL RUIN THE REST OF YOUR NATURAL EXISTENCE!

RWOOOOAAAAAAAGHGHGHGGG!!!!!!
GYUUUUUOOOOOOUOUOUOUGHGG!
AAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!


or whatever.






In other news, I've been trying to be more sociable lately.
And by sociable, I mean saying exactly what I need to say to get people to not want to talk to me anymore but not dislike me in any way.

It's going well.


Another large glob of protoplasmic jelly falls from his atrophied form and hits the floor with a loud smack. A faint sucking sound can be heard as the pressure equalizes at the rapid loss of glia and axons. Processes halted, stimuli undigested, aneurystic  insect eyes seeking sugar and light in a young boy's virgin cavities and burn cherry-red with pent up desires.

I stood in front of the mirror, stared deeply into my own eyes, and saw nothing but darkness...

Don't let me fall into that pit again...
It took all my strength to crawl and scrape and drag myself out the first time. It was unbearable torture with no reprieve. Yet my strength won out in the end. I freed myself of that indescribable hell. I was again myself. No more were the hooks of demons ripping violently at my flesh. But still, it wouldn't last, it never does...
Again the beast came to my door. It creaked and shook with fury. This time it was here for good. Now the monster was going to ensnare me and never let me go. He came so swiftly that I had barely any time to react, but again I made my move and gained victory... but at what cost?
I lost all that was dear to me. I may have driven away the demon, but now I had to live with the aftermath. I had to live with myself, with what I've done. A boulder I'll carry on my back for eternity. There was no going back. Believe me, I tried. Nothing could come close to repairing the rift it created. I was myself again, but what's the point? I have nothing. I've ruined it all.
I live on for one reason. Hope. The hope that one day things will get better. It's all I have and it's next to nothing. Now the real torture begins. How long can I last? The demon is always at my door. I've only known of it's existence. But this time I saw it. It's eyes glowed a fierce crimson and it had two crooked horns. It literally emerged from the wall. I was keeping it in there and it was breaking free. Each day I saw the fury in it's eyes grow. I was terrified and alone, but then again, when am I not?
I won, technically. I had my life and my mind. Everything else was lost in the confrontation.

But life went on, life always goes on, and it doesn't stop for me. I slowly regained a sense of purpose and friends to laugh with. Things were getting better and better.
It came again. It tried to drive me to violence, but I ran. I ran far far away. It always comes back near familiar ground. So I threw it all away. I freed myself yet again from it's grasp. Only I made things worse in the time it tried to grab hold of me. I didn't think that was even possible.

It's been four years since then. I've hidden the door even from myself. It's not safe there. But 2 days ago I walked an invisible path in a world of light. I dive into my mind. I came across an object in this illuminated garden of forked paths. And just like that I stumbled upon the door to my insanity...

And look, it's green.

Hahahaha, it is truly the only color befitting such an agonizing object.

Soaked with tears and sealed in blood.

I fell to my knees. I grabbed the edge of the horrid thing. I won't open it. I thrashed at it screaming bloody murder. I gave into crying at it's feet. It was only then that I noticed it's degrading. It has holes carved into it. I dare not look inside lest the demon escape again. But I knew. It was inches away.

I sat alone and broken until I had forgotten everything. The world seemed to disappear with my thoughts. When it all had left me, I rose to my feet. I was not in the light anymore. Everything had gone dark. The light faded and with it all the beauty and goodness of my mind. Now, in front of me, there was not a door, but a mirror.

I stood in front of the mirror, stared deeply into my own eyes, and saw nothing but darkness...


Then the pitch black eyes that were so fixed in place suddenly fell from their thrones. I tasted my own brains as they gently rolled along the gray matter and mental sewage. I've missed this taste...

It Was Just Another Day.

And I sat down for a moment to read. Upon sitting, I felt it. It was strange and hard to explain, but I shall try, if only to preserve the memory for myself. For you see, strange things happen at seemingly inconsequential moments for apparently no reason at all, but something powerful is happening. It is a constant process of transformation of mind, body, and soul. It only took a moment of rest for the effects to take place. A feeling of happiness, pure and true, to activate the dormant genes. My DNA is shifting. I understand that. It's only part of the process. I shall not die as a mortal man, but rise above and enter the higher plane. These things have been confirmed by others.
    It's ridiculous, I must admit, but I am a ridiculous man. I admit to that. I can see what I am doing is peculiar. I have no fear of this obscurity. I do not damn my individuality but, on the contrary, embrace it as a long lost lover. Never shall I let myself fall from this path. You may think I'm insane, and you may be right, but I see no difference between lunacy and genius. They are cut from the same cloth.
    I'm losing track though, there is a point to this. I felt what few others have felt. The tingle. It's very similar to temporary loss of circulation. The legs go numb for a moment. You feel as though they have become smokelike. No longer solid and firm. They float below, writhing twisting in the wind. Electricity fills them abundantly. They feel to be pulled off of you, dragged down to our mother. Yet she is not taking but giving. It is an exchange of sorts. You give yourself to her, she takes you in and makes you better, then returns you to yourself. Don't laugh at my beliefs lest I show you the absurdity of your own.
   Faith is a strange thing. There is no proof. So how can you know? You just do. That is what faith is all about. And I know what I believe to be true. Who are you to say different? What gives you the right to persecute me for my beliefs? If you don't believe me, then don't. What do I care? I only wish to express it like anyone else.
   So here I am, sitting down, book in hand, as this miraculous transformation happens once again. I give her my light, my love, and she accepts it entirely. She takes it and loves me for it. It grows strong with her. It becomes a part of her own light. It glows brilliantly. She takes my offering and gives me back something more. She gives me back the light we have created. A part of myself in her, and a part of her with me. It is only a step to a goal, but an important one. Although most of the work must be done alone in solitude. Only then can one concentrate on what is important. Only then is the truth revealed. This is why most people fear it. They are terrified of change, of the unknown. When the truth weighs down on them they run and hide in fear. They hide amongst others. They hide together.
     For the enlightenment to happen, there needs to be space for it in the mind. Space to accept our creator inside our minds so she can do her work to better us. Out of fear of this, we fill our minds with the most trivial bullshit. We literally stuff our minds with useless fucking garbage to keep her out. If you haven't noticed this, you may be lost. There is no hope for thee. But if you see, if you can honestly see what is happening may be there is a chance for your salvation. We have not finished evolving. Do not be content with your inefficiency. You are an unfinished work of art. Please, don't be a dueche. Let yourself become the masterpiece you are meant to be.
    And so I felt it, my own personal transformation. It's happened before and it will happen again. It's an ongoing thing. I am not nearly complete. I will not cheat. I shall rise and become a saint for modern times. It is my destiny. You can not convince me otherwise so do not try. If you don't agree just leave me be. I am not hurting anyone. And if I am wrong, let me at least enjoy it. It's one of the few things that brings me any happiness anymore. I have purpose. I am confident in this. Why would you want to rob me of that?
    Afterward I stoop up. I felt no numbness or pain. No, my legs did not fall asleep. I stood just fine, had all feeling, if not more, and walked away. I walked straight here to this computer and began to type this. Not a moment was spared. It is all fresh in my head. It has literally just happened. And it filled my entire being with a need to share it. I'm so proud of my progress. I must admit however, I am impatient. I know what's happening, I know what has happened, I know what will happen. There are no surprises left. Yes, I am admitting to seeing the future. And why not? Many prophets have seen the same. Alone in a secluded cave they think and believe. The future comes to them just as it comes to me now. It's not impossible. It's happened.
    Knowing the future only makes it more difficult to accept the present. It drags on in seemingly endless seconds of boredom. I do not care for the world as it is. I know what it will be. I see the potential in everyone and everything. I love it for what it will be. I love you for what you will one day be. Yes, I love you deeply, all of you. And I hate you so much. You resist the changes that will inevitably take place. You fight it with all your might. Please stop this frivolity. It will come to pass. Let it. I am. Join me and we will bring forth an era of happiness the likes of which have never been seen. We live in a perfect world, where everyone's like me. Does it scare you?

Intimacy Issues

I have a TON of intimacy issues.
The only ones I'm missing are issue #17 Fear of Abandonment, which contained the first appearance of Emptiness, issue #26 TRUST, and issue #52 Overthinking, which had a guest appearance by Spiderman.

Touch Me

Touch me and I'll scream...
and moan...
and gyrate...
and shoot a hot wet load down my pant-leg...
and cry...
and fall over...
and shit upwards of 5ft...
and convulse violently...

And beg for more.