Sunday, April 5, 2015


Canada deleted me and it's kinda depressing :-<

Saturday, March 7, 2015

Things I did today

 * Slept literally all day

* Researched Neanderthals for about 2 hours (I have no idea why. Honestly, no idea. I was just interested and just randomly started watching documentaries and shit and then reading wikipedia)

* Started a word press blog

* Wrote 2 articles for the writing blog

* got pissed trying to format.

* rage quit after 10 minutes.

* deleted wordpress

* Talked to Texas

* made pancakes

* paid for the entire premium suit of adobe so I can edit videos. It was just over $1,200 (said no one fucking ever--yaar!)

* Researched cameras and probably settled on a decent one but idk yet

* Decided I do want a 4th person, but it needs to be a girl. 4 dudes might get annoying. We need a Velma.

* Found a bunch of blogs to compare my work to

It is now 7:30 AM. I should probably go to bed.


Friday, March 6, 2015


I've decided I'm going to just be a professional fiction editor. I've been beating my head against a fucking wall trying to figure out how to make money and get on the road and I think I can actually make a CAREER out of editing. It's not great money but it will afford me the ability to

A) Work for myself

B) Fuck you. (or at least say it if anyone has a problem with my attitude)

C) Pay for trips

D) Drugs. Fuck you feds.

E) I'm going to basically pay for a camera and become a videographer and hopefully a major film dude in the near future. I want to live in a van

I will visit Canada.

Now I just need to start making a bunch of videos and blogs about writing. Fuck this is going to take mother fucking forever. I need a dope ass camera.

I came up with a name too. So that's sweet.

I want

* Destructing Writing

to be the title. I need a vibe and I think it's going to be about just tearing people apart. it's what I'm good at and well versed in.

* Glitch Hippy.

I'm going to put up a bunch of tech reviews, movie reviews, game reviews (that'd be sick to have an xbox in the solar powered van--by this I mean solar on the roof and desiel guzzler Engine: i'm poor)

Thursday, February 12, 2015

[11:43:39 PM] No One: i apparently write really complex raps for a beginner i found out
[11:43:43 PM] No One: which is a bad thing ill never be able to make them
[11:44:07 PM] No One: but like i have sound effects planned out and how to drop the bass (not like dubstep) out and which chords and instruments to cut when
[11:44:47 PM] No One: like i know i want the sound of a sharp sword, that sharp WWSHHHINNNGGG sound you hear when someone unsheathes in cliche movies.
[11:45:23 PM] No One: I want that to start the chorus right after a muffled amp like super low chords play at half speed and the rest of the music cuts
[11:46:10 PM] No One: then i want a chorus..that's the wrong word...just a creepy like peppy group of office voices almost like creepy fucking cheery people at least 10 both men and women to shout JUDGEMENT DAY! like its a celebration or something.
[11:46:14 PM] No One: Like this is what goes on in my fucking head.
[11:46:43 PM] No One: and since i dont know how to write music.
[11:46:45 PM] No One: I'm writing shit like
[11:46:46 PM] No One: - _ - _ - _ . . . _ _ _ - ^
[11:47:05 PM] No One: -_-_-_ . . . ^
[11:47:51 PM] No One: And I want a like falling scale whisper like Chhhhewww but just air between the teeth descending down to nothing CHHWW CHhhww chhww chhww chw  chw  chw...

Judgment day--a loose work of progress.

[2/1/15--open working]

- - -^-^ -- -- _ -^^ once. Twice. Thrice. Andagain. Threemore. Strikes. Moreshots. Tothehead.
Bwomp {that would be the sound—not an instrument just a computer sound}

CHW CHW chwww chww chww chw chw. {like something whispering a falling scale}

{spare me the details – Direct falling scale double beats descending} chwwchww chw chwwchww chw chwwchww...

{higher pitched snare line?} ^  ^  ^ ^^^ ^  ^ ^ ____

Judgment day. Fool or I'm insane.
Judgment day. Scattered in my brain.
Judgment day. I'm fucked or I forfeit.
Judgment day. Done with the horse shit.


Thrice and again.
Three more strikes, more shots to the head.
Spare me the details, I'm Lutheran, you're Catholic.
Doesn't much matter cuz the sex was fantastic.
Squirmy little details, let's fasten them up.
Spit another glob of blood to your cup.

One. Here we go.
The very last time, 'till we start the next show.
Spare me the details, I'm straight-edge, you're maverick.
Doesn't really matter cuz our love had an asterisks.
Skinny little toothpick, let's fatten you up.
Snort another line of lies for good luck. . .

{Half / Half/ Full note} - - _  JUGMENT DAY!!



Monday, February 9, 2015

Out hipster

"Preemptively out hipster the hipsters. This is the new "the 1st album was better"
Next level bro." -- Some shlub on youtube.

Sunday, January 25, 2015

Nameless travel writer

I wanted to make a less self-indulgent blog.

It will probably go the wayside as well as I mature, but I hope to augment many things in to impress (or show, or evoke emotion from) a very different crowd. I don't plan to troll or publish stupid opinions on anything. I want it to be more It's going to be a very "life lesson" tone and I hope to incorporate many of the themes I've been discussing throughout my "blogging" nonsense. Anarchy, drugs, ADHD, and now most recently utter desolate heart break and denationalization as a coping mechanism. Mostly, I just want somewhere to publish that I can be honest and possibly in the near future use my real name, thus ending a legacy of depersonalizing.

I miss you Canada. I want to visit :-3

Thursday, January 22, 2015

redacted from reddit

eh i redacted it. probably best not to get that personal when I'm this fucked up.

edit: This text was is a total fucking shit show and I'm sorry. I am absolutely writing only for myself, I don't care how unprofessional this is I am not speaking as a mod or officially in any capacity. I don't even want to use this username but I need to that's the point. You can ignore this I don't even think anyone should care, I just need to say it all for sake of self. Most of this probably will ramble way WAYYYY off point. :(

[Messages like these are why I put flashypatches on as mod because I really shouldn't even be online. I'm at the hospital right now just kinda sitting online leeching off the mariot next door's open wifi I broke. You'd fucking think they would have free wifi at a hospital, but you would be mistaken. Anyway....
[I psycho analyzed myself last night for about 2 hours of really awful stuff. I've come to the conclusion that I'm not happy being 100% anonymous. I want people to know me. I'm not going to share my name still, but I'm kinda just really sick of putting on this mask and toying around. It's probably just because I'm in emotional ruins today so here are some fun facts about my actual life as opposed to garbage I spout off just for the lulz.](#s)

[I'm 22 turning 23 shortly. I am in fact a guy. I'm just really sick of wearing e-tits, the charm has long worn off. I simply don't care if people (especially here) know. I will continue to selectively wear them on other forums just to annoy the typical hater.  I'm from upstate new york and I really REALLY hate it here for a variety of reasons I can't actually change. I would very much like to travel but I hate doing things alone (why I don't mod this place alone even though I extremely easily and for awhile did). I don't even like writing if I can't share it (even if no one reads it--I want to make it available)](#s)

[I actually don't read. I honestly hate reading because despite my telling myself I'm intelligent, I actually have more to prove (childishly) to others than myself. I am not a self validating person, and it hinders my growth.](#s)

[I have two accounts, one for this, one for the more honest stuff and I found myself actually using that one more often ad that was shitty. ](#s)

[I run a blog that is about 3 years out dated as to who I actually am. I started it when I was like 19 or 20 and I feel like total shit even looking back at the nonsense. I had a lot of fun impressing my peers, but it's not much of an accomplishment ot entertain 20 year olds (no offense to you 20 year olds).](#s)

[My goals for the future include opening a battered women's shelter as well as a counseling center for abused males, as the system can be stacked very much against them. I want to do this specifically beacuse I've never had these problems and I can be objective about them. ](#s)

[I do a lot of writing because I'm actually (I believe) slightly dyslexic, although never formally diagnosed. 90% of the words I spell right are either spell check or muscle memory. For the remainder of this, I will not use spell check. ](#s)

[I write mostly dark stuff but I think this is a result of being a brood teen who never grew up until now. The drugs are actually helping abolish the child in me and I'm getting to know myself in ways most don't (bow chick-a-wow). ](#s)

[I used to want to join the government and work for the CIA or similar doing dirty work, but I think that sentiment arose from a dissonance between brain wash and affect. Fear. If you can't beat them, accept them and join them. I now actively seek to abolish many of the illegalities and immoralities of the U.S government.](#s)

[IFTOSPWBTS was this whole thing for me. It was the first time I had ever shared anything I was actually proud of with anyone. I have since become a much better writer and I very soon hope to profit off Amazon outside the realm of stupid short stories not_rachel and I presume very soon flashy bug me to publish. I just wanna maintain my 50+ dollar days or even hit 100 or 150 dollar days (extremely doable) but I'm just too scared or something to try. Lazy? Now distraught but before it was just anxiety that I was writing the wrong genre.](#s)

[I really can't keep a cogent point together but the fact remains I actually don't much care for being a "mod". I see myself as a community leader who wasn't elected and who no one has to accept. I do my best to not police anything here past the meta stuff like not leeching or absurdly ridiculous trolls. I love this community and treat it very much like a second life and I'm kinda sick of it. ](#s)

[I don't share my writing in real life because I'm too afraid of judgement. Godforbid someone calls me a faggot for writing about a vampire. Here, I have the disconnect and shield of "Well that's not me...that's just me on the internet" and i'm honestly just done with it. As a result i end up writing bullshit I often don't want to write. I need to stop doing this.](#s)

[I don't like the notion of growing up and holding my own responsibilities. I'm a frail pussy who would rather curl up and die. I don't even like phone calls :/ My best friend is probably going to die (please don't pity train me) and it's got me all sorts of fucked up writing shit like this. ](#s)

[I wrote this whole thing about growing up and despair and I might end up sharing it here but the grammar is just so abysmal and I just don't have the ambition left in me to trudge back through it. I'm actually pretty happy with how well I'm doing without spell checker--I'm fairly sure I have all these words muscle memorized as with pen and paper it's a bigger disaster than this. ](#s)

This marks the 3rd time I've written a message like this but fuck it I'm not even going to delete it this time.


* I write because I don't want responsibility. I want to profit only enough to keep a roof over my head or travel and entertain people and teach life lessons

* I come from a literary background of fucking nothing. I can't spell. I never read. I was taught hebrew prayer instead of math or english for 50% of my schooling as a kid until 6th grade.

* I am a high school drop out and now college drop out. Dropped out at 16 and enrolled at college finished got GED and realized I don't even want my 4 year BA. I don't need it.

* I dont have favorite books because again, I don't read. I really love books on tape and more so I like listening to /r/iamverysmart stuff like

* Good writing to me is writing that tells a story that doesn't leave me guessing too much and doesn't dump to much on me. A vague picture is good but there needs to be enough to form that image. A balance is needed. I also am a really big fan of good dialogue, it's one of the few things i can follow. I hate paragraph after paragraph of description and that's why I avoid fantasy.

* I read blogs like or spend hours researching wikipedia about asteroid mining or boxcar hoping for stories. I need to write more short stories :( but I get distracted beacuse of ADHD and lose interest 67% through....

* I want to write a lot more about drug stories or runaways. Someone just posted a story about 2 runaways that reminds me very much of myself at that age.

* I never critique plot here usually because I can't follow what I read for more than about 15 seconds. my memory buffer is shit.

My name doesn't matter. I'm just scared. I wish i made more sense. I wish i was better at everythign but I'm too scared to move.

 Hi. :) My name is…well that still doesn’t matter, and it’s nice to meet all of you. Hello World!.exe
I’m not really sure why I’m so terrified of the world knowing me, or perhaps I am simply so scared of the unknown void that I cower behind anonymity and obscuring my information. I’m like the President, only with no justification to hide away. No one is after me. I’m not that important. On the flipside, there is something quite charming about having an anonymity to an account. It adds an ego shield layer, which unfortunately means people get to plays devil’s advocate (sometimes very aggressively) on the Internet and argue for things they don’t even really believe in themselves (they’re just doing it to win internet arguments or be cruel and demean others of lesser (perceived) intelligence rather than try to educate them).

Imagine the difference between these statements. Scenario: I have a dog and a kid whom you know I love very much. I am on my death bed, you are nearly certain of this fact yet you refuse to believe it. You feel physically ill you are so torn up. You have never imagined fear of this magnitude before, in fact, (most of) you have never in your lives experienced fear of this magnitude in the presence of such helplessness. Those two emotions when blended produce an affect you couldn’t possibly have imagined. You arrive at the very bottom of your world. Also, you aren’t certain whether you should have vaporized weed to put myself into a meditative state. You’re getting answers but you’re also very far down. You don’t know what is what. What is logical what is real what is truth everything is being undermined now. Everything. You are terrified that things aren’t as they seem. Perhaps this is why people are religious. This primal fear and wonder. This need to understand.
Anyway…I want to talk about my friend. I have never really had reason to feel deep emotional pain before. I have had breakups that have bugged me profoundly and really crushed my spirits and I’ve had times when I’ve just been really upset that I failed at something, or that I felt I would lose something dear to me. However, I have never experienced and could have never imagined helplessness and fear of this magnitude.
I have seen people, like on TV, in this position or talked through it with friends of my own and remained objective, specifically because I didn’t empathize and therefore I was objective. However, I didn’t posses the capacity to even imagine that empathy, despite telling myself that I am rather empathic. I just presumed they were being illogical and therefore emotions, being illogical, are simply not worth it or reconcilable. Therefore, in my world, I should do everything I can to make sure they do not exist. I will harden my heart like a rock. I will prevent myself from fearing and being hurt with shields of hyper efficiency. These shields are feeling police thoughts. I am not free in my own mind. I have these self employed thought police running around my head kicking the living fucking shit out of any emotion that pops up. It’s actually more like border patrol. Perhaps this is why I hate cops.
Anyway. There was a feeling that almost washed over me and that I fear might very soon. I have seen actresses or videos of people bringing their hands to their mouth’s when they get bad news. I think that’s a universal reaction to such shock and utter devastation. You simply cannot process the magnitude of the situation and you have for your entire life grossly miscalculated your strength and ability to hold tough and catch emotional fast balls. In that instant the fast ball has plowed into your gut at 90 miles per hour, so fucking hard your soul wants to escape and you must hold it in. Your hands find your mouth and you just collapse to your knees.
I have never in my life felt such utter despair. I have ready messages online like these before and just thought “too purple. What a fucking baby” and I feel so fucking foolish to have assumed so. Until today I wasn’t even aware I possessed the capacity to feel this way, in fact I took pride assuming I couldn’t. I am shattered to a core so much deeper into myself than I thought existed. I have not cried in 7 years until tonight and I still am fighting tooth and nail and fist and foot inside my head beating the shit out of myself for even CONSIDERING breaking down and letting the tears out.
There is a flood inside me and the dam is starting to crack. I would rather be cliche and describe it perfectly than try to be creative to impress you. I am torn so throughly I feel like a ripped envelope with all of the ideas and words inside me spilling out in a tattered litter of gibberish and anecdote and runonsentencegarbage no one can or even wants to follow. Because no one really cares and the only thing that helps is just having an ear to listen and someone to lie to you and tell you otherwise.
I am questioning everything about myself. The exact opposite of what I told myself was true might be the case. My truth, I believe now, is that for my entire life I have only truly cared about myself, and that is why when others are upset I can remain so objective and “warm” (superficially) and logical, specifically because I don’t throw up the “you poor sweet heart boo hoo wah I’m so sad!” but instead opt for “I’m here for you. Let’s try to work this out.”
Iin 99% of the cases I have ever experienced, with everyone I have ever met (notwithstanding a few that I keep close), I don’t really give a fuck about what I’m hearing. That’s why you don’t see me online giving out advice like I used to. I realized I just don’t care. I will listen to your problems and make wise judgments because I can empathies just far enough to give the illusion of true compassion and empathy, but not far enough to actually be able to help.
I cannot make sense enough to follow my own tangents and rabbit holes, nor can I hope to convey a coherent point past what you read or infer from my ripped envelope stream of consciousness. I am a river which was unfairly dammed and is now forced to find its way through unknown territory and this river is tearing up the roots of everything I am. The forest in my mind that has grown so deeply out of touch with this river, dried into a withered and barren wasteland is about to be flooded and it’s both a good thing and the worst tragedy I have ever experienced in my entire life. My only solace in losing my friend should she die will be that fact. Feeling this broken will actually give me strength.
I don’t pray and perhaps it’s because I’m scared to admit what that would mean. A total concession to a higher power or things I don’t understand and will never be able to control. There doesn’t have to be an entity to pray to, you can simply pray to the universe. You can find hope or search deep for strength and I guess in some capacity that could be considered “god” though I am by no means religious.
Until a few days ago I would have laughed in my own face if you told me someday this is how I’d react and that I wrote this. I’d be like “No dude. That’s some bullshit. Look, I’m using the word dude and fronting like my ego is huge. I’m so cool. Look at me crack jokes. I’m smiling. I’ve got this. Besides, I use paragraphs, so that proves I didn’t write that bullshit.”
A part of me is dying and perhaps it’s a part of me that needs to die…and that part of me is willing to kill itself should the only girl I’ve ever loved die from cancer or really anything. Die alone and scared and leaving behind so fucking much and such a bright future. She did nothing to deserve this fate and the fact I might never see her again is destroying me. I should have put so much more effort into getting to know her and share the world than I did.
I was callous to her and did not get involved specifically to shield myself from these emotions, which have now surfaced anyway. I didn’t allow myself to get attached to a girl I know logically is going to die young. I’d be an idiot to try and love her, right? Anyone would be. I’m an emotional forest. A dry one, a wasteland actually. The dam that has held the emotional water inside is about to burst. It will be the most freeing thing, yet it will have cost me the young woman who I very much and always will love.
To even tell myself that perhaps I was crazy enough to latch on specifically knowing she was going to die, that I some how wanted to be involved with her death destroys me. Maybe that’s why I loved her to start out with. I don’t know anything anymore. Would it be wrong if that was true? Am I insane for thinking this? Would others say NO! Just to make me feel better? Would others lie? Would they even know they were lying? Probably not.
If I was that selfish that I actually stayed with someone who was dying for my benefit, what would the implications of that truth look like? Is the core of everything I am actually a monster? I know deep down I am absolutely not greedy and it is no rationalization to say I do good in the world and that I was a bright light for this girl and I still am and very much fucking hope to whatever powers that might help this stupid thought can help me continue to be her light. I do not want her to die. Or maybe I do, but not yet. Not for a very long time. She need years to see her son grow up. She needs years to fulfill her purpose or give back to the world, though she owes nothing to it, she is amazing and has always wanted to give back, even though she’d tell you she was callous and resentful. And she has every right to be.
I don’t fucking know what I want. I know I don’t want to have to experience this death and live with all these fucking questions, some of them…I don’t even know which ones are rational to be asking anymore and which are just cries for attention or genuine concern. All of this thus far has been, and that’s not usually the case. I’m so fucked up over this stuff.

…I just walked downstairs and took a break to “clear my head” or in this case dig myself back out of that really really really fucking dark rabbit hole. The deeper you go into things, the more chaotic with entropy they become. For a moment there walking down the stairs I actually got so fucking deep I genuinely started to doubt whether anything was real or not. Like think about it. I haven’t seen this girl, she could be making it all up. She sends me pictures so I know parts are true, but I know she’s psychotic and very VERY manipulative and smart, but I fucking hate myself for thinking that because I should know and I do believe that she is genuinely gonna die. It doesn’t seem fake. It is so fucking real I think I’m just hoping it’s fake or something. But that doesn’t sound right either.
I feel like a darkness is inside me. Like the lowest level form of communication of a quantum scale used to be little atoms of white background cyan blue jumping around…now its black background red for-ground. The colors of my emotions are scarily universal with what they represent. We find meaning in “words” to covey emotions its actually incredibly effective how well this actually works. However, through words there are just some things you can never hope to convey and honestly it’s probably for the best, lest you crush someone with the same intensity that I have been crushed just with words. It is simply not possible to evoke this emotion, nor should it be possible. Until you have experienced it for yourself don’t assume you inherently know more about someone and their capacity of emotion. I say this and can only imagine others doing so of course because I do this.

I have no idea where I started here. I have no idea where I’m going. I just needed to let some of that out and now I really need a break. I will surely be back later, but I feel “better” even though the gloom remains and will likely only get worse when the flood hits. I hope it doesn’t hit. I need a miracle. I’m not even sure I need one, because maybe it’s not as bleak as I’m thinking. Like I said, what if things aren’t even real? What if I’ve already made up the ending in my brain? What if this is just a narrative I’m telling myself and I don’t even have a body. I just created this projection of a body because it’s effective and it’s also effective to imagine everyone else as the same. Some foreign things could be interpreted as evidence to the contrary, but perhaps the capacity to imagine new things goes WAYYYY deeper than I allow that part of myself (Whatever that self may be or where). I’m not sure if I believe this stuff, I think because I don’t allow myself to because it’s really scary, but I have heard evidence of that it is more likely I am a complex super computer’s projection, or I am a projection of a creature in a giant and I mean HUGE infinitely big other creature. Imagine a dark room with what appears to be “twine” with thick goo everywhere. You’re floating through this like an ocean and all around you giant huge caverns of exotic matter veins, like twisting particles of sand in water, pulsing with neon lights like a jellyfish. This is a super brain. I am a part of a super brain. In one cluster, there is a glowing color us humans simply can’t imagine or see whatsoever like the color of liquid silver dark grey but its glowing super bright like uranium but mixed with red so its kinda intense. It’s pulsing really fast and other colors are going wild around it to work on something else. This colossal god being floats through space, which may exist in a dimension we cannot even imagine or perceive no matter what we try to do. LSD actually doesn’t get me as a close as weed. I’m really fucking high and really really really really fucking distraught.

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

how the fuck do you tell your dying friend goodbye?

and when?

What if you speak too early and they get better? what if you offend them in their most desperate hour when all they wanted you to do is stay strong? What if breaking down to them is the only thing they didn't want you to do while they slip away. what if you choose wrong. I am just very upset that I might have to say goodbye as I am NOT ready for that. I will never be ready. :(

Time is collapsing. my fingers are numb. I don't know what to do. I have no idea what to fucking do.

I will feel so pathetic if I cry for no reason just out of baseless fear. I am horrified of that more than anything and I take pride in being "strong" enough to not cry but I feel like throwing up. I don't want her to die. I don't want this to be justified. I want to be 100% wrong. I want to find out she was never in any danger and that she'll be okay. I want that reality :,( I want saying this to be able to change it. And I won't know until I know and that scares me. I know it's cliche but i'm passing through the eye of the needle soon and it's horrifying.

I have never known fear like this. Never. I couldn't even have imagined it.

I'm chewing my lip trying not to cry.

I shouldn't have fucking gone down stairs to get food. My fucking dad (with the best intentions) asked if she was going to die. I don't fucking know. I don't want to answer. all I could say was can you just not talk to me. I'm just so upset that the answer could be yes and that this isn't just in my head. I want this to just be in my head :,(

cant breathe

So many half finished thoughts or points that never came together. Maybe i'll fill in the gaps when I sober up. I hope that's not for awhile, especially if my fears are founded. I hope they're not. I really really fucking hope I am fearing nothing and that i'm just an idiot.

I am literally questioning the foundation of everything I am and I don't say this to be dramatic or get attention. In fact, I'm saying this just to document to myself the day it happened. It's horrible to find solace in tragedy, but it's all I've got.

I don't think anything I know is real. I literally am questioning my reality and I feel justified to do so and I share this for no other reason than because I think it is interesting and I desperately need to vent (something I used to judge others for needing to do--as my personal standards of what I can deal with are really high and I take pride [perhaps foolishly] in that).

You know when people make stupid statuses being dramatic on facebook like oh look at me hur dur i need attention or I need validation lemme say something pseudo-profound. Honestly, sometimes they get lucky and hit something real, but 90% of the time it's just bullshit. This is probably one reason people play up cliches even though they themselves have never actually internalized or experienced their meaning. But it sounds dramatic and so they'll use it to evoke similar dampened versions of those emotions. Novice author wants you to know how sad it was {insert event was there} and rather than telling you "It was really sad" they compare to "Cried a flood" hoping to evoke out of you the empathy as you can project your experiences onto characters. Maybe you can remember when your dog died It's hyperbole and it's not even accurate comparable

I think kids should have pets so they can die and they can experience loss at a young age that isn't human. It will make them stronger in so many ways having a companion. I think I secretly love dogs and I'm just horrified of the implications of that like everything I know is a lie. I think I secretly love kids too. I kinda know I do. I actually really want a kid someday but I'm very scared I will never find the right woman trust worthy enough or strong enough to be worth raising a kid with. I dont ever want to compromise and I think that's what freaked me out with Kirsten and why i didn't visit. that i couldn't get attached because i knew i would, so i avoided it saying i hated kids, but really i just hated that everything i knew was a fucking lie.

I was getting anxiety because my music wasn't loud enough. I feel so much better now that I'm not straining looking for the answer trying to hear it louder hahahaha oh my god TIL play music lower than you want if you want to thought spiral :) but also it's a shitty anxious feeling :/ I've never followed the anxious hole of fear this fear. I have never ever confronted fear like this. I have avoided it for so long because I'm a pussy and because it actually really is illogical to seek out scary stuff. Now I'm faced with devastation and I'm forced to pass through the eye of the needle. Cliche but it's how i feel.

Okay so I've gone through now like 10 drafts.... I am literally questioning the foundation of everything I am and I don't say this to be dramatic or get attention. In fact, I'm saying this just to document to myself the day it happened. It's horrible to find solace in tragedy, but it's all I've got. So yes. I am being dramatic. Yes, in a way I am fishing for attention. 

These are two things I extremely rarely do especially with "real" shit pertaining to my emotions and my life. I bottle it up well. I think this is the first time in my life the thought-police I hired to chase down emotions and beat the shit out of them are being overwhelmed. I feel like if I go on, it's just a pointless bullshit excuse to make others freaked out like "oh look at Trevor he's breaking down" and that would be ridiculous. I'm actually just really fucking high and done giving a shit about what others think and not in a spiteful way, but in a liberating way. I think most say "i'm doing caring" when they mean exactly the opposite. "I am desperate to make others care!" 

I think very few people actually say what they mean and I say this in hopes people will use what time they are gifted with on this Earth more wisely and cut out the bullshit. I hate being shattered to have to learn this lesson and it's a lesson I'd hazard many never learn.


stop bullshitting and figure yourself out because you'll miss many opportunities for true happiness not happiness in a logical "I should be happy with this and I am content with it" sort of way. This is especially true with who you love and spend time with. Don't ever avoid someone out of fear you will regret it more than anything else in the world if they die and you will feel guilty forever for not having spent every moment you could have as happily as you could. There are so many other miserable things you did instead when you could have just compromised with the fear and done what would have made you happier with who. 


I hope more than anything I get to see my friend again. Please don't make the same stupid mistakes I've made guys. I'm serious :(  

Also is there a way to disallow comments? I really don't want any comments please.

"nice racism bro"

[SOME OTHER NOT THE RETARD DUDE] well it seems the people in the street (no matter what they are labeled) have done something, they have started and helped continue a dialogue11 mins · Like

[ME] edit: Sorry if this seemed angry I'm just kinda astounded at JC calling me a racist (showing his own racism in the process) but like ...WHAT DIALOGUE?! I'm not being sarcastic when I asked wtf this about. Do you see the issue? This isn't me bitching about what they are protesting, I am literally pissed at the media or them for not having an effective means of protest. There is no dialogue. Are they anti-abotion? Anti-GMO? What are they so freaking angry about? They're acting like childish little thugs just mindlessly blocking a road. If everyone of them held up a sign to form a huge message along a highway THAT would be a protest that sent a message. If they wrote huge words on a billboard, or lay down spelling a word in an organized fashion THAT WOULD BE IMPRESSIVE and raise awarness because the dedication to the cause would be highlighted AND it would speak to what they're trying to accomplish. Like paint a symbol of a gun with a cross through it if you're hating on that. Eat natural grapes and give them for free like raise money for a "support local farmers try their food free day" if you want to promote that (but for the right reasons not anti-gmo GMOs are fine). Like honestly this isn't a fucking protest this is just civil disorder. It's ridiculous and the media should be ashamed at not picking up their slack. Just blocking traffic even with a sign is fucking stupid as it's a hostage situation until the media shows up to broadcast your message to more than just 10 or 15 parked cars at a 4 way intersection. these fucking degenerate idiots are giving protesters a bad name whatever their cause is. Is anything I'm saying baseless or am I onto something here? I am not at all attacking their cause, I honestly don't even know what they're protesting and that's literally my only gripe because shit reporting.

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

has this turned into my stoner blog yet? (yes and I think it's more interesting now---does anyone agree? >implying anyone reads this. Hi Canada :))

I am afraid to let myself feel. I am so logical. I am so scared of this fact that I put up a wall ego like I’m cocky…no smug about it. Everyone …look here…I’m logical and smart. I am every smarter than that those other pesdo intellectual children. I am surprerior.

I never know who I’m talking to when I type. It’s pathetic how I much I tailor my words based on my perceived or desired audience from moment to moment. I think as a result I get hugely variable sentences…I’m not sure if this is a strength or not.

I think my problem is I’m too concerned with what people think. While it has it’s benifits like making me be a better person and find fulfillment, I’m not sure in the long run how happy it makes me.

I think my problem with school is being graded. If I want to be the rebel and send in my paper on the topic of happiness and I write it while stoned and it doesn’t make sense to anyone else but me, fuck anyone who says that’s wrong. That I’m not learning. If I write a self-indulgent essay with my own brain as the topic I would be ridiculed. Clearly this will not prepare me for the work force. Would good is psycho analyzing one’s self? That’s not profitable. As a result, I have come to resent the very notion of someone placing their standards of what they constitute learning and their guidelines as to what they think I need to know about a subjective topic. Sure, in a history class, I shouldn’t be writing about me…but again, I am talking about a humanities class like “happiness and blah blah”. What if I want to use the word nigger and it helps me learn? Oh no, offensive! We can’t share this! But what if the point I’m taking this class for is not to prove anything to anyone else, but it is to find myself and write about myself. To be honest it’s not narcissistic, but I don’t actually want feedback on my writing. I don’t care if anyone thinks it’s garbage (hence why I hate grades) I just wanted to be given an opportunity to have a curriculum of guided knowledge to the ends of whatever. The means I use to obtain **MY** (not the schools whose real mission statement is to create cogs, even really beautiful ones—being a cog isn’t always a bad thing it’s a great thing for many its a great happy survival) fucking education to whatever ends I PAY FOR. The teachers should grade on whether they think I’ve learned the lesson and the knowledge or wisdom or whether I’ve wasted my own time. That is all a grade should ever be based on. Fuck grades. :) fun thought slide. I was always curious why I hated it so much.

There are many who will relate to this and some who wont. Sometimes it’s okay to let yourself feel. If you only let the logical part of your brain lead, you often will lose track of what makes you happy, even if it’s counter intuitive, or even logical. We work hard so that we can make mistakes (even willfully) and get right back up. We are resilient creatures, we just need to stop thinking in binary terms about logic and emotion. 

military apologist and other stoner shit I'm just scared :( hi canada

>MFW I cough up flem from using my vape not because I'm still sick :o  I need to start thinking more about stuff....more sciency. 

Lib tard:
Really sick of the whole Chris Kyle/Michael Moore/Seth Rogen shenanigans going on. Was he a hero? Sure, only because he has so many confirmed kills in Iraq, was he a twisted violent person who described killing as fun? Yup, he was that as well. The military is where the people who love killing go to become hero's, sometimes they're horrible people but that makes for a very good soldier. If he wasn't racist against muslim people (hint: most muslims are just like everyone else) and instead hated black people or something else and went on a killing spree here with a few hundred confirmed kills I doubt he'd be called a hero

Lib tards from the perspective of an ideologically liberated anarchist.

Lib tards are so smug about being liberal (and in their minds intellectually superior) that they claim a "lib tard" is a catch-22. It's not. You can be a fucking moron and make stupid counter-intellectual points that might not even remotely coincide with principle level core liberalism and instead just assume that it falls under the umbrella of liberalism, because you believe it, and you categorized under the umbrella of liberalism. You wear that proudly, even though you have no fucking idea what it stands for. Honestly, do you even know what liberalism means beside "the right way to peace and just...better for people"? Yeah. That's what I motherfucking thought. So please, stop implicitly accepting the fact* you are more intelligent than others with different values and beliefs.
Not all republicans want to destroy the environment. Not all conservatives are evil war mongering shits. It's absurd how brain washed each side is against the other and how hostile they are as a result.

My pretentious reply:

The military is often where desperate people are forced as a last resort . They come to a breaking point where fully the only thing our government will allow them to do is enlist in the armed forces. There are crimes and such that will DQ, but I'm talking about debt, petty crime, failing school, etc. It's a back-door draft. Those people generally speaking will not enlist in infantry, but the point remains that sometimes the members of the armed forces don't necessarily want to be there.

There are certainly arguments like "They could have done something else" but many of them have been innocently brain washed by no fault of their own and without the mental capacity to do research contrary--e.g "patriotism" and "pride" etc. Arguably, this is the only known purpose of the southern states, and that's why the aid never really rolls in and there is an active push to keep them uneducated and banging a bible (part and parcel in America with violence and pride and superiority) It's kept dumb to produce a military. I'm probably too far into conspiracy but honestly look at the numbers that enlist. It's their culture. (Granted a lot can be attributed to southern pride--but the North continues to laugh at them (and the west))

It's easy to hate people who love the military because we project that they must in turn love war. This isn't always true and some people genuinely join to defend their countries. This is not a defense of the reprehensibly military action our government and military partake in. This is a shot mindlessly hating those in the military, which shouldn't all inherently be construed as war lovers.

state of union meta

Retard friend: Everyone, Obama is going to walk to congress and have 2 words to say and that's : Fuck Capitalism.

Me: Cronyism. I have no problem whatsoever with profiteering. There are some moral qualms that can get involved what with ethics, but the concept and notion of profiting from a fair day's work isn't inherently reprehensible. 

Do you want to know how you can tell if you love someone as a best friend? It's pretty easy. Ask yourself whether you'd cry if that person died tomorrow. If you say no, chances are good you aren't best friends.

#SchemingTheSystem #WritingWorldProblems #BeingThisMuchOfAFaggot

dude i had this idea
im gonna publish my sci-fi just once or twice on a new pen-name
but same keywords and similiar covers to keep the control group there
but then literally just randomly break in the action so characters fuck
but i'll sell the erotic short story chapters basically like pay for premium for 2.99 the rest are a dollar
but here is the scheme
one group thinks "i dont care about the erotica im glad im getting a deal haha this guys a sucker he thinks im gonna buy his stupid erotica shit hahah"
and the erotica readers are like "oh cool a real plot line! I'm certainly willing to spend 3.99 instead of 2.99 for this!"
+ its like zero effort for me
like honestly the hard part of romance is plot
i can write some shit sure but its gonna suck
I'll feed you ideas
i write stuff like people having to go rescue the last bit of solar fusion fuel so they can mother fucking go fly in soace to get an asteroid to mine to save earth or rather get materials to escape
so thats fucking smart shit
If that is your issue
but i cant be all
oh his dick went into her butt hole
it was so hot
unse unse unse
well no wait i CAN
but i cant write the plot. like oh ...mark came over and ....fucked her butt....
but if i just RANDOMALLY cut out and go so fucking far as to put a hahahaha oh my god
i'll fucking put a premium button in
i may have invented a way to strike back agains the fucking erotica authors
i asked sci-fi what they thought
they laughed at me
i asked romance and they said "holy shit"
fuck i might have just tilted my hand too far with this idea
That is a good move tho
i can get around the average restrictive "5k" word count on erotica shit anyway and price point 0.99
so i dont even have to write 5k of erotica stuff i dont even think tahts possible honestly
thats like 20 pages straight of nothing but sex
is that even doable?
maybe ONCE
Again, once I'm settled in, I can pay you to sell my shits
In terms of writing
It is a serious plan of mine to be a published author
im making a blog tomorrow or whenever i sober up and sleep and stop having intrusive thoughts
something about hippies
i need a name for it
but itll have a bunch of zen shit butwithout hte pretencious pesudo science
it will be more pesudo intellectual jugemnetal edgy brooding teen
but it will be disgused and smarter than it is
because i will use big words like zietgeit
ive got this whole thing figured out it will even have a corny twitter for zen quotes and funny stonner moments and wise man shit
basically anything ANYTHING i say that i can hashtag
so all 3 archetypical readers will ignore the other 2
and just think they subjectively wont ever understand it
when in reality it was just garbage like a fortune cookie
see man you scheme the wrong way
you have to do this whole work hustle moving shit and getting punched in the face
i just sit here and do fucking nothing busting systems apart
similar set of thinking skills
I've dubbed this weed baby robot weed
because i think like a computer on it
Baby robot
I second that feeling tho
yeah man
see i could hashtag that
people would smoke that shit up nigga