run away! this is so evil!
run away! this is so evil!
It's been quiet enough lately. Of course the nature of a modern life is that it becomes dramatised when considered but before suffering the flames of the mind my life has been neutral.
Though it seems to have become a subtle belief that peace can only be the calm before the storm. It feels true that contentment is only the antithesis of what is to come. Could it truly be irrelative, existing simply because I am at peace, with no need for doubt? I do not know. I am assured that the universe will cast its fire into my life again but until then things will simply be as they are. These doubts are the magic of the mind, its ability to habitually perpetuate discontentment. Continually I will try to see that the mind simply does not know and is always to be scrutinised.
The lack of romance/ Diagonality of thought/ Even cut mismatch
it's nae bother
hello once again internet journal!. been a while. the burden of truth is unbearable. people trying to help peek through cracks in the ceiling, the music rears its ugly head, if it doesn't make my chest hurt i don't want it. You don't have to realise the song playing in your head.
When you breathe in deep everything becomes like cats
felt pretty neat for the past week or so, undoubtedly due to greater efforts in meditation and spiritual practice, except perhaps for one lapse yesterday when i got really fucking stoned. like i couldn't even watch a movie. but i got a nice afterglow sorta thing today, probably cuz i slept so well lol. life continues to be a messy web and i continue to learn all of the time.
this new album came out called dogsbody and it's by model/actriz and it's really good and i wrote a review for it which is a massive insecurity, for some reason. everything i create becomes an insecurity at some point. perhaps i should ditch my identification with what i create?
ever feel like you're bursting at the seams but you just aren't good at anything? desparate for self expression but alas, nothing can adequately encapsulate what you want to express in the world of form. our egos are really locked up tight and small; i feel for them.
y'all ever feel lonely lonely lonely?
The anxiety produced from writing this in a lecture. Ah so. The frustration induced by a constantly decaying head and body. Ah so. The incompleteness produced by comparing myself to those I walk past on the street. Ah so.
We might want to ask, "was that it"? And the potentially correct but incomplete answer to that question is "Yes". However the complete answer is not a verbal answer, but going back into it.
THERE;S A CONSTANT THOUGHT THAT THERE IS A PROBLEM, MY BODY FEELS MANY SENSATIONS WHICH MY EGO WANTS TO CHANGE. IT IS QUITE SNEAKY ABOUT HOW IT GOES ABOUT WANTING THIS, BECAUSE IT GIVES REASONS THAT SOUND LIKE THEY ARE GOOD. FOR EXAMPLE, IT WILL SAY, “I JUST NEED TO FEEL COMFORTABLE SO THAT I CAN FOCUS ON MY WORK”. IT MAKES IT SOUND LIKE IT WANTS WHAT IS BEST FOR YOU, HOWEVER, YOU CAN FOCUS ON YOUR WORK WITHOUT CHANGING ANYTHING.
currently drinking alone the last paragraph was ages ago. recently i been focused on other people feeling lustiness and loneliness feeding into each other ouroboros style. feelin rather lonely. been painfully aware of how shittily i've been living; not in the sense of "waahhh wahhhh my life is so fail" but more like, i know what is good, i know what is right, i know what my morals are, i think of the morals, i think of what is good, then still act in a bad way. some impulse drive! i saw a picture of a girl who looks cool but i'm too scared to talk to, my first thought was "i cannot wait to die". my brain is really nonsensical and difficult to have as a roommate.
ZOMG! NEW SELF PORTRAIT JUST DROPPED! WHAT AN ARTISTE! WHAT A REVOLUTIONARY! HE DREW HIMSELF IN MS PAINT! WHAT A MANIAC! WHAT A LOON! WHAT A LAUREATE!
Wrote about emo music on this site. Life continues. Music as a tribute to emotion or music as a decoration for silence? That is the question.
fell over last night and now have a big scar on my eyebrow.
time continues to pass effortlessly
events continue to take place
action continues to be taken
inaction continues to challenging
life is a joke - thank you all for being kind to me before i got here though.
a few hours later and I forgot that I had wrote that line. it is profoundly human and i stand by it. "human as an adjective". human is an adjective. hu man is an ad jec tif. adjectif? whatever
who is the I that stands by it? I don't know. Who is the I that doesn't know? This one right here. Which one? The one that I'm in. Which is a different one to the one you're in.
it's all one, yet indescribably unique. Go figure.
Currently, my only problem is that i keep wanting more, constantly, no matter how many divine revelations i shove down my own throat, i ask for more. more of anything.
Then, my dilemma is, do I keep giving more, or do i get fed up with it?
It seems better to just give what i can give when i can give it, dont give it when i cant, and sit quietly when i dont know.
I find something profoundly human in the word "whatever". like saying "i'm done with that thing now onto the next". we live in one infinite moment, it kinda just flows between things anyways. there's no point in dismissing the last thing because it's basically the same thing. whatever.
this might be bold of me* but i think i have figured out what i look for in music. if i imagined i had made the song i am listening to, would i say to my friends "hey check out this cool thing i made" so that they can feel the same way i do.
* how could i ever be bold to say what its like to be me? its obvious that the only source of knowledge of what its like to be me is me.
whiling whiling time.
listening to dean blunt's black metal. i read this rym review about how dean dislikes black people reappropriating a white image because it's not truly progressive, his example was black cobain. i thought that this applied to the album's title 'black metal', in that he was saying 'this album is the black reappropriation of metal'. which i thought was cool, like if something was similarly counter to black culture as metal is to white culture, it would sound like some wistful, sarcastic bedroom pop. however i think my interpretation is not shared by many, which is often the case, given my strange mind, and when i realise that i have made an 'incorrect' (unpopular) interpretation my mind gets a bit embarrassed.
i pose myself the question: what is wrong with porn?
now i do this because i have been quite happy recently in spite of not looking at porn. i am now considering looking at porn, and it would be nice to have some logical backing to my 'against' side. so, to begin, i think it is right to decide what one should do based on what is important*. the non-dual answer is that importance is a concept, the nature of reality is non-conceptual, therefore it is not right or wrong to look at porn. the logical answer is that looking at porn is unlikely to be helpful in producing a world where i feel fulfilled. in fact, most other things i could do in that time would probably lead to lower amounts of suffering in the future. however, one thing i shouldn't do instead of looking at porn is thinking about looking at porn.
NB my brain plays songs more than it plays thoughts. plus another self portrait because i shaved my head
hi again. i've been having some vague problem about publicly releasing the produce of my brain. see, i think it would be cripplingly uninteresting to everyone in the universe, and my ego is quite resistant to publishing something that could be uninteresting. fascinating that. there is also a worry that i will somehow dox myself, or something. if i continue to produce 'brain stuff' i'm sure i will someday publicly release some 'stuff'. perhaps when i finally produce something so impeccable that, when someone talks to me about it, even my tender, sweet lamb of an ego prison doesn't feel so vulnerable that it forces me under my duvet in the fetal position. or perhaps i will release some 'stuff' when my ego gets a little softer, which feels like is becoming the case with the meditation practice i have been doing lately.
obligatorily, i would like to produce something meaningful or insightful. for those who don't necessarily find as-honest-as-possible ramblings interesting. i suppose one of the most useful things, i find, is if i address you directly. i don't necessarily know you in the typical social sense, however i think that actually i do know you in some deep way. there are many ways in which you are just like me. for example, our lives both pass us by constantly, while we do stuff. time just passes. we have many experiences, and not necessarily experiences that you remember, but much more fundamental, infinitely complex experiences which are constantly occuring and changing. we each experience consciousness in the exact same way, it's just that the things within our consciousness and lives are different. in fact, we share a great many things that no intellectual or scientist can describe with words. isn't that wonderful, how much we have in common? despite that we have each undergone an extremely different set of conditioning, we can actually arrive at the same place and feel that we are deeply alike. everything that has happened in our lives up to now has led us to do different things, but here and now we share this moment, and it feels good that i can be here with you at all.
1 fresh deep dish ramble from the organic streets of my mind comin' right up.
crimbo has been and gone, it was a fun season, however it was tainted with an event which negatively affected my relationship with my parents just before returning to university. still not really over it. for some reason i'm trying to hide the details of the event to avoid getting embarrassed. but i've noticed that i was doing that now so i'll explain the details anyway. i had this journal, and with me being the way i am, it contained a wealth of the edgiest grossest cringiest stinkiest content imaginable. it tumbled out of my bag that i had packed for uni and my mum had a peek through and saw some extremely classy, thought provoking entries such as "i want to die, i want to die, i want to die, i want to die". my parents weren't aware of my mental instability so this came as quite a shock to them. it didn't help that i had to leave for uni that day, now i have had a few very awkward pretending-nothing-is-weird-even-though-things-are-obviously-really-weird texts. and i won't be able to see them in person to properly resolve this for a while. it's been on my mind. i haven't got a solution yet, but i think the negative emotion will fade away as i continue my therapy and meditation.
i have been using Sam Harris' meditation app Waking Up for the past 10 days, it has been extremely effective! I was a long-time fan of spiritual talks which usually came in lecture form, however on this app there's lots of mini, condensed talks, using precise language to explain ideas very concisely. very useful! it also, of course, has many meditaiton courses which provide excellent motivation to actually sit down and meditate. I had a discussion with my pal Jerome yesterday who has some of the best things to say, spiritually speaking, of anyone i've ever met. he says that meditation is a useful tool for improving your life, or storyline, but this life and storyline is detached from the divine realisations of oneness and being part of god that you get on psychedelics.
i wasn't sure how to start this one, so i decided to draw a self portrait. i didn't look at myself so it's from memory, it was surprisingly hard to remember what i look like. i'm marginally curious as to whether anyone would say it is accurate as i don't really know. i should do self portraits more often, or maybe just draw people more often. i quite like how you can capture some deep feeling which a person evokes via an artistic representation of them. that said, i'm stuck in all sorts of mental habits and patterns which make the idea of actually creating art quite unappealing. i'm listening to some post hardcore stuff. it's neat and quite good at keeping suffering light and fun instead of murky and heavy.
i have been fascinated by the idea of icarus lately. somehow i feel a connection to the idea of flying to close to the sun. it's quite inexplicable but i feel a relatability with icarus's naivety.
been watching chainsaw man the anime. it's alright, but it is clearly unmeaningful time wasting without the awareness. same with league of legends.
clearly there is much more resting discomfort here than when making the last post... fascinating. I suppose it is important to remember not to believe the stories which the mind tells. It is fine to feel emotions and to sit with emotions. Just don't believe the stories that your mind tells about them.
the third paragraph got me thinking that i don't tend to have a solid belief on what is meaningful. In the past the best answer i've found is that meaning could most generally be found in reducing suffering, as the meaning of life could not be "to suffer".
Since the great loss of cl****re who I have assumed is dead, i have struggled and struggled to find outlets for my ramblings. The crippling desire to seek egoic validation usually leads me to tepidly dumping my shite on those who do not exactly want to hear it but feel obliged to due to their social roles. I have tried dumping my shit on myself before (in little books and phone notes) but this has proved to be a little too..... boring. I also find myself to be a little too unstable. I will write something, then inevitably change (because of course the nature of reality is that everything is in constant change), then find myself worried that those i Dump My Shite on will find me to be invalid as I am not fitting into their models of me. I don't know that this is how people would think, however, some part of my subconscious (and maybe partially conscious) mind has deduced this, and factors it into all my conversations with others.
A temptation, now, is to use this site to craft some detailed egoic picture of myself. Maybe every act of creating something is egoic, but stupid shit like "I loooooove music" is a really unnecessary thing purely contributing to my personality which is not the point. Maybe it secretly is. Either way, I'm not gonna write "I looooooove music" without clearly demonstrating some self awareness in advance, since one could read that, and think "he is clearly trying to craft a complex unique egoic facet of himself." And I am also now realising that by writing all this trite, I am demonstrating another facet of my character - everything I produce could create some form of insecurity. Another impulse I am now having is born of the desire to request validation from whoever will read this, however, it is unlikely that anyone will. My interest in my own sporadic creations tends to be short lived. After creating something, quite quickly, I tend to end up embarrassed by it.
Since I'm listening to music and a good song came on, I'll write about it. A slow build up, fills the gut with excitement, the preparation for the loud bit, not knowing exactly when it is but feeling that it's coming soon. And it just kicks in, and it's such an ugly sound, but it is so powerful that the excitement in the gut felt validated. And it went quiet again, the gut prepares for another backflip. And there it is. Astoundingly triumphant beauty in this guy's screaming. Rocking guitars, triumphant chord progressions, all powerful and happy sounding, except for the fact he's screaming and his band is called I hate myself. And I feel like part of his club, as the bittersweetness really pulls at my heart strings.
I feel the urge to write more, but I think that this is plenty for now.
POST::::: Mi Ami - Steal your face, arguably some of the best music ever made holy fucking cow!