Sigh…fuck. Fuck me, fuck me in the ass. It just happens sometimes, me accidentally giving away my banking information to such n such Spanish prisoner or Nigerian prince. Only this time I can't cancel my card until I pay the shit for the court that I just straight up don't have because I'm retarded and can't get a job in the circumstances that my life partner creates, which is why I fucked up, trying to manifest this $120. Like, this is why I'm so good at counterintelligence; I am, perhaps not an idiot savant, but an oblivious savant. I can wipe my own ass, and derive the true nature of reality and encode it in the same style of gematria that the Torah and Bible is written in, but fuck. How do I do a social? How do I not put my foot in my mouth every thirteen seconds.

Kumquat just made 3v3 there, which made me think Eve, which means I need to find a woman who doesn't scream when they see me or hear how my cognition works (kumquat is a type of specific synchronicity I named where my keyboard glitches n mistakes spark free association), and how do I get a job when I sound batshit crazy and no one will take the minute to care to listen to me (take your meds!)? Oh wait, I work with the Crazy Indigo Aliens for bigger picture shit.

Fucking world of prejudice, man. I just give people back the energy they give me. That's something I'm highly adept at, having had the F-I mean, CIA train my empathy like I was a dog with literal operant and classical conditioning. Read my book if you wanna understand. I got shit to write. Like, part of my mission with my educational art project was to network, with the ideal outcome being someone sees my mountain of work and goes, hey, this guy would be great working for us! Also, the menacing tinnitus that just started says I should admit that maybe when I was homeless, I might make a friend that might let me stay on their couch. And who tf knows, maybe someone weird like me who understood me enough to love me.

I got one of those things. Wasn't the woman I was banking on, but man do I love my life partner. Made a handful of “acquaintances” that seem to drift in and out of existence in good timing, like they're all one person, or perhaps I am so lucky that there are full-blown retards out there who jovially talk amongst themselves about me, perhaps even at my expense! To be so lordly! But to just passively tweedle my needle, whatever that neologism means, I don't quite consent to them treating me like a science experiment. Now that just pisses me off.

Good thing you good folks hiding taught me how to shrug. Because I'm pretty god damn sure that Vince and Jux are still best friends, they made that deal after all, and the feud they faked primarily for me to believe was real so Jux could hide in plain sight, manipulating me, the literal CIA asset he is up there in Canada where the feds don't look, and because of this, I'll bet the farm I made at least one person shoot a little bit of air out their nose by writing this paragraph.

But, fuck. My shit ain't working at all! I don't know what to do at any minute of any day besides follow God who waxes and wanes, but I don't have crises of faith. I had a talk with my life partner this morning about emptiness, and I remembered even before the events of the acid trips in my book that “enlightenment” had something to do with “reaching zero” so that you could “rebuild on the zero” into anything; the idea of the perfect being able to be any being. Go to root to reboot in any form. I knew that way back when, but I understand it in great detail now, openly admitting the part I do not know in detail is specifically the plex-structures; how these parts of my “self” weave together, to mean the intricate logic of all my entanglements.

I can perceive large patterns and innate archetypal form and this and that peculiarity within me that makes me distinct, because a big part of what my book's and life's journey have given me is perspective. The majority of people live in the same state their whole life, with most being in the same general area as where they were born. The number of people who can say they know the relativity of a life with riches n poverty and grace n disgrace and true joy n suffering from all the angles is very rare, and I certainly don't know every apex one can grow their character to be in all the circumstances one can find themselves, but I know some shit, bro. And I still can't get a job! Imagine if I stayed in my dad's house this whole time! Fuck! I'd be like some of you!

Just got back from biking with my life partner. Went and saw some ducks and dragonflies and fish and some other birds. Had a good time. I'm really calm. Do you realize that? DO YOU NINCOMPOOPS REALIZE I CAN BE CALM AND DO CAPS LOCK? Some people are only capable of stimulus-response, and think others are the same. The number of times people say “take your meds” and I explain that I am, this is how I am, and it just keeps going badly because the people that do not get that other people are fundamentally different than them automatically assume when you disagree with their initial prognosis of a situation, that is a personal attack on them and all they stand for.

Y'know The Matrix is about something, right? There's machines that fight to keep the system the way it is. There's unconscious people, not literally asleep, but “asleep at the wheel.” Kurt Vonnegut's book Timequake is about free will in this sense, how most people are just in a mass hypnosis, going about as if the path they walk is predecided. The act of agency is that of choosing for oneself and it is an ability that is dependent on many self-determinable factors itself. And so, free will is a skill.

This last person that harassed me about taking meds said that I was a burden on other people, and I did intentionally go overboard with the chucklenut because I can, skillfully, and I am trying to figure out how to reach the unempathic clods about THEIR nature to other people that I'm intentionally going to react as poorly as possible…because they are burdening ME with their PREJUDICE against people that aren't like them.

Like it's genuinely great that society is getting more accepting of diverse colors and stuff, but when Dr King spoke of “content of character” that doesn't mean everybody of all colors be as the white man is, and by extension, not every person is going to be immediately understood by you, especially if you choose to live a processed life where you are programmed by media and controlled by peer pressure. This goes further in that there are people like me and many others I have met who have gone beyond grasshopper to locust to mean we can be many different beings.

So, to those people who block others after getting into a fight with them? Y'know we can show up in your inbox two weeks later from a three year old account we made to interact with another person years ago that was of a similar ilk, to mean a similar character archetype, and that character I play is going to be your best friend, because you certainly are interesting to investigate, being as maladapted to society as you are, whatever that is. Who knows what else you're up to, being identifiably antisocial like that.

But I'm just a crackhead, which is a term I've defined many times on Lemmy now.