Journal

Reflecting on myself.

5.22.25 Notes from Mr. Underground

I read Dostoyevsky's Notes from Underground. I have decided I do not want to be that guy. I think it is his cowardice that makes him that way; a bitter loner who thinks he is superior to everyone and does nothing in his pile of shit. The resemblance is uncanny. Like I mentioned, it's easier to recognize similar lines of thought than the symptoms we dissociate from. Sorry for any typos, this phone is a PITA to edit on. Can people change? Nothing as powerful as changing "I can't" to "I can". Well, maybe a nuke. "Conquering the self is the most honorable thing, being conquered by the self is the most vile and shameful..." Funny how society runs on collective fear and self-deceit. The foundations float in air. Fear is the little death that brings obliteration... I never recognized those voices in myself. The real self-deceit self-defeat. -- As a kid, I got the bad habit of reading for entertainment. I never thought about what the author was trying to say, or what I could learn. If you learn nothing from a book, there's no point in reading it. Learning one key point from every book is an atomic habit. Knowledge has no purpose until it is put into practical use-- Education means to "educe," to find, organize, and implement information. There's no replacement for experience. "Theoretically? No." (Fifth Element.)
Don't owe anyone, this disappearing act is getting old. Just keep running. Throw out the good with the bad. No compromise, no surrender. I understand burning bridges, making a clean break, but a note would be nice, a little goodbye, any sign of respect--maybe I'm asking too much, No I'm asking for myself. I care about what I want, who I am, for myself. "Fuck em" (Usual Suspects)
This site is practice in honesty and communication, a display of work, a tool for reflection. An anonymous website is a unique form of media. I like to show off my thoughts, it'd be nice if I could get some criticism. Godspeed, god bless, farewell, drive safe!

5.9.25

Hey. Been gone a while. You should know that if I stop updating the site, it's probably because I'm dead. Fun thing -- I got eleven coin flips right in a row last night. Do the math on that, won't ya. Reflections -- I am stubborn, like a horn growing from my heart, and I know what they look like and feel like now, and it is like I have a horn from my chest that will not let me follow anyone else's path. I've learned I am also very dramatic, for attention and because I like it. I am a clown, really. It's the way I am, and I take me as I am. I know I must change, but at my own pace. I don't fight authority, but I'll subvert it, I don't listen to anyone I don't respect, and this chain has broken my life before me, a passenger in my own life, "she called out a warning, don't let your life pass you by."
Better get to work. Have so many words to share and no time online.

3.27.25 Depression Exhibition(ism)

Depression Exhibition. Did some work on the site, have a lot to type and not much time. Listening to Pijn's "Loss," I really like it. I'll have to listen to more postrock. Reminds me of Silver Mt. Zion. I really like these goats I've met, the babydoll sheep too. Lack of Self Worth -> Hard to Leave. Haven't left -> No Self Worth. Haven't left -> insults. I really am a dramatic little bitch. Retreat to my journal to keep writing bullshit. Time to answer the question, knock knock I've got the locomotive insanity to give you stomach knots. More wrong turns per capita than neurons to blame, the plane is going down with some tailspin smoke, engine choke, sputter spokes, wheel of the weird spinning into tomorrow or yesterday, not much difference. Sounds like improvisation but I've practiced my self hate, getting better every day at rearranging my mental furniture, sutures, futures, whatever ya wanna call it. You like it? Give me a call. You know I'll be doing nothing else but playing with words and spilling drinks on myself.

3.15.25

Yesterday was Pi Day so that was cool. I didn't do anything. I've been having crazy dreams recently, I blame the wind, though I left the window over my head cracked so the moon could peer in. Also one of the cats ran off into the desert so. Another example of being abandoned. Funny story, I was actually asleep and the door was open when I woke up, one of the cats had run out but the other stayed. Magic? Maybe.
Anyways I started a new journal page because the old one was lagging from too many words. That's a RAM issue I believe. How much we don't know is ~~impressive~~ infinite, our brains trick us into not panicking at knowing nothing.
The only thing we can offer to God is our attention, and it's the littlest thing to us. OH, Spotify won't let me play music for some odd reason. Yet again, if you don't pay for it, you don't own it. Well, if you don't own it, you can't keep it. And then Google required me to give them a real-not-internet-app phone number to set up a YouTube acct. so I can't make a playlist without giving the feds my personal phone number. So. That's all, see you later.