•2015-08-31 (Monday) • Leave a Comment

when you say, “how are you?” to someone, it’s not really a question.  it’s a command.  it means, “say something nice and positive to me or i will make a sour face at you and run away.”  depending on the scale & when you ask, i am never ok, or good, or anything positive.  i have no career, no “family” or “friends” as it were.  i have a bunch of random associations who have kicked me out for not towing the party line and saying “good” when asked, how i am.

i have an empty, non-networked house right now.  it belongs to my mother, but she won’t, or can’t listen to me.  she’s away for the weekend, anyway.  family camping trip.  i wasn’t invited, because i can’t pay my share of the fees, or won’t, because reasons.  yeah, like i’m going to spend my hard earned weed and booze money to go hang out with rapey capitalists who argue with me constantly.  i don’t think they shame each other nearly as much when i’m not around.  in the pictures, they always seem happier when i’m not there.  i do not understand how a social species such as humans can accept such a self-punishment regime as capitalist hierarchy, let alone embrace it with such fervor.

have you ever wondered why other nations, when they have elections, elect a “government”, but the united states of america’s executive teams are merely an “administration?”  of course you haven’t, you were born into this fascist farce and punished if you ever seriously questioned it.  caste out.  excommunicated.  my family stopped telling me what they were doing long ago.  because they insist that information be delivered by verbal speech only.  you must subjugate yourself to the heirarchical timeline, for as long as it takes to deliver and with whatever abusive side effects it includes.  i cannot abide such punishment as a matter of course.

i was born on september 9, 1976, which means my 39th birthday is less than a month away.  it’s a rather arbitrary designation, all things considered.  completely dependent on this planet, & on this historical configuration.  i prefer to treat people like humans every day, as long as they act like humans.  fascist capitalists aren’t really worth my time at all, unless they are receptive to learning, to adapting.  most aren’t, because they’ve associated learning with state schooling.  the torture chamber for children designed by the military/prison-industrial police state/complex, to turn the youngest of our species into obedient, know-nothing, hyper-violent, dichotomy-identifying cattle.  goyim.  sheeple.  the words sound disrespectful until you see people get into this “defensive” state.  they attack.  they “fight back” against such characterizations, because they strike squarely on the nerve.  they know.  they would never admit that they know, directly.  but, they know.

i wasn’t born at home.  i was born in a hospital, in a different city even than where my parents were living at the time.  i don’t remember much my childhood before school, but i know it was painful.  it continued to be painful, in a dull, aching sort of way.  i was an obedient child.  my parents both came from rather strict religious backgrounds, and rejected much of their own upbringings, except for the strictness.

saturday. 8/15/15, 3:36 pm

so i’m watching this movie that plays on the expression “bucket list”.  kicking the bucket being one of those joking expressions for committing suicide in prison.  in the popular mind, the term is now associated with this “heartwarming” sarcastic comedy starring jack & morgan.  so far, it’s typical corporate product placement.  as if there’s any other kind of hollywood “movie.”  it was about what i had expected.  the john mayer video “say” is a summation, if you want to get the whole sappy thing in the space of a song.

8/18/15, 5:20 pm

is there a difference between positivity and victim silencing?  between seeing the world through rose-colored glasses and refusing to reward bad actors by complaining about their actions?  is victimhood a mentality, or the reporting of hurtful behavior of others?  i have this feeling that there is, but i have a difficult time finding the line.  i cut off people who attack.  cut them OFF.  why should i give them the right to listen to me?  because they most need to hear it.  at my expense?  or, at the expense of my happiness?  so, you’ve chosen isolation.  no, i’ve chosen self-preservation.  self-protection.  if there’s blood in the water, the sharks will smell it.  you have to get out of the water.  on the other end of that transaction, losing the right to hear might prevent one from saying hurtful things.  or not.  it might just keep them in their own violent little echo chamber.  self-fulfilling prophecies.  can you remove all the triggers from your own life?  some will try.  there’s no singular response that’s appropriate.  literally every circumstance is unique.  there is only one.  i know only that i am far from perfect.

8/31/15 11:38 pm

i hate it here.  where don’t you hate it? the left shift key just stopped working.  ok, it’s back.  how can a universally hated social animal not hate itself?  this is stupid.  yeah, that’s our m.o.

since i last typed, i read two books.  congratulations.  tweeted a lot.  are you proud?  it’s difficult to have pride in a job that pays zero dollars per year.  check that, it’s impossible to have pride, period.  why?  pride is an error.  not a sin?  sin is a deathcult word.  pride is something like revelry in how things are, or what you did, or where you happen to be.  it sort of elevates your pathetic unitary self above everyone else, and the time which you happen to see things, above every other time.  it is an error.  you’re an error.  true enough.  don’t we have things to write about?  hating our family back?  boring.  wanting to die?  also boring.  also not true, by the way.  are you sure?  no.  all i know is that i don’t know nothing. 

do you get the impression that when your computer/phone operating system “updates” that it’s passing data you generated to microsoft or google?  yeah.  how would you know?  i think you’d have to be a hacker.  sniff packets or something.  get behind the paywall or iron curtain or proprietariness or something.  it’s not like we pay for this electricity anyway.  I TAKE DAILY PUNISHMENT FROM THESE WORTHLESS BYSTANDERS FOR THE RIGHT TO THIS PUBLIC ELECTRICITY.  cripes.  i’m not doing well.  clearly.  why are you still listening to “this comp kills fascists”? because it blocks out the bangy noise & annoying talking of the useless retards that surround us EVERY. FUCKING. WHERE. WE GO.  jesus.  oh please.  tell us about some movies, or those books.  yeah fine.

the first book was  the short & tragic life of robert peace .  i worked with him in college.  in the same dining hall.  i don’t remember speaking to him.  i remember being insanely jealous of his life, from this account of his life.  the variety of & success with people.  the intelligence.  the weed.  ok, mostly, the women & the weed.  you’re an egotistical retard.  i know.  spoiled rotten.  other than that i was a lot like this guy, i came to some revelations about class & education.  basically, never go into debt.  in fact, even if you don’t go into debt (mr. peace didn’t), it will probably ruin you.  you’re not ruined.  oh really.  why do i even bother talking to you?  i’m the only one who will listen.  oh yeah.  so poor people surrounded by the ridiculously rich will both learn about them and pick up habits/attributes from them.  is that what we did?  i don’t really know.  i can’t gauge what people think of me.  i say sometimes that i’m a sensitive, or empath, but i might just be terrified and numb.  what was there to be jealous of?  i don’t know.  a few moments of money.  didn’t you go to london & amsterdam once?  for a week/33 hours.  i got a knife pulled on me.  see, that sounds more prideful than any of your scholastic accomplishments.  he didn’t show me the blade, & he said he had a gun.  i don’t remember fear.  i remember thinking, “no you don’t.  i’m not giving my money to a liar.”  he said he was going to count to three, & did.  i said “no” very quietly.  he patted me on the shoulder & walked away.  what does this story have to do with anything?  i don’t know.  nothing probably.  just like everything else that’s happened to me.  completely useless.  god, you’re a wet blanket.  wet blankets are cold.  i’m a furnace.  this is stupid.  stop saying that.  it’s almost as bad as retarded.  i love medically dismissive terminology.  i’m trying to take it back.  you know how often i have to read “crazy” or “insane” from people who think they aren’t?  often, i suspect that means.  of course you know.  nah, i block that hurtful shit out.  that’s impossible.  ignore it.  also, impossible.  stop caring what people think of you!  ok, you know how we’re social animals?  yeah.  sensitive beings who can detect pressure, magnetic fields, all type of chemicals, & water, with every cell of our skin?  um, yes?  people put how they think of you literally on you, through the air, through the symbols they choose.  through the sounds that they emit from their voice-production apparatus, and the electro-chemical signals they emit from their various bodily systems.  point being?  we know, about each other.  regardless of what is said or not said.  everyone knows i am a hate & vitriol filled do-nothing who is entirely incapable of pulling its own weight under this completely unnatural, irrational, & horribly repressive system of power & exchange that we have on this planet.  ok.  now, we’re getting somewhere.

up until he arrives at college, the book is data dense & rather arm’s length.  the author, being his roommate at yale, switches to essentially first-person once their lives intertwine.  he reminds me a lot of me, too.  the parts i tend to hate & have disowned recently.  oh, that sounds healthy.  must be why my hemorrhoids are flaring like crazy lately.  must be.

i was the student manager of the dining hall where he worked.  i think i avoided him completely.  who don’t you avoid.  girls, lesbians mostly.  i’m sure there’s a scientific explanation for that.  not one my family or any judeo-christian ethic would accept.  the appropriationist dismissive pop shortcut is fuckboy.  the self-applied categorization is genderfluid transgender queer.  are you trying to get yourself killed?  perhaps?  i thought i was just being honest in an attempt to find a partner or friends who didn’t cause me immeasurable pain with every other word.  oh, that.  i hate men.  like, unforgivably.  the freudian explanation is that my abusive harasser of a father, the son of a child molester, caused me to so reject his teachings/way/ethic/standards, that i rejected “manliness” outright, but couldn’t afford transition.  i hate you.  i hate you, too.  but somehow i love being me.  and how.

spoiler: he dies.  what, you didn’t catch that from the title?  oh, right.  i think the author did it.  WHAT?  i’m not allowed an opinion?  WHAT WOULD POSSIBLY BE THE MOTIVE?  oh like rich people need motive to ruin poor people’s lives.  they do it for fun.  i don’t see HOW it’s fun, but psychopaths find pleasure in the pain of others.  you’re sick.  if you say so, doc.  WHY WOULD HE WRITE A BOOK HONORING HIS ROOMMATE IF HE DID IT?  to sell copies of a book.  why does anyone do anything.  ok, now you’re just trying to create more rich enemies.  uh huh.  like all of them wasn’t enough.  i didn’t hate the book.  did you hate the school?  dunno, maybe.  i went there for the architecture, and i enjoyed walking around looking at the pretty buildings.  clearly i didn’t learn anything useful as a philosophy major, nor did i make any contacts which would have assisted me in finding gainful employment in the service of people wealthier and better at concentrating the labors of others, over the years.  nobody’s allowed to like me, and nobody lets themselves learn anything from me, because of a few things that i find more plausible than the stories on tv and perpetuated by the corporate curriculum espoused by the mainstream cisgender gerontocracy.  i love those words.  me, too.

movies.  talk about movies.  other than self-hanging itinerary.  right.  slumdog millionaire, gandhi, three herbie movies, slums of beverly hills, two horrible dog training videos, butterfly effect 2, brokeback mountain, wolf of wall street (see also blood diamond, blow, & lord of war), transformers age of extinction, a noble lie, inside job (also see wall st. code), & dinotopia.  tragic beauty by rich white men to profit off of the death of poor people who didn’t deserve it.  that’s your review of all those movies?  yup.  marky mark was pretty dope in age of extinction, too.  lol. it’s really a wonder you haven’t been recruited for your movie-reviewing skills alone.  right!?  hurry up & die.  if only.

the other book was “run you down”, the second in a continuing suspense/crime/journalism series by my college ex who recommended the other one, julia dahl.  nice work, jewels.  it was hilarious, enlightening, entertaining, enraging, & momentarily nostalgic.  plus it made me think of your dad a lot.  lol.  i think the genre of crime novels is about as interesting as cop dramas: not at all.  novel serieses are sort of fascinating, in that the non-dying characters can keep mucking about and adventuring with one another as they uncover nefarious plots that aren’t dismissed as conspiracy theories, until published.  and even then sometimes.  whatever.  i enjoyed reading it quickly.

you don’t seem to have an abundance of self-respect on this blog, nevermind respect for pretty much anybody else, do you.  not really.  i don’t do much worthy of respect, & most things, not to mention people, trigger violent rage in me now that i’ve stopped taking the illegal medicinal herb that has stabilized me for the last 15 years or so.  driving places in my busted pile of a car terrifies me.  calling the asshole bureaucrats at the state to find out where my poor people insurance would let me see a doctor about these stupid fucking hemorrhoids terrifies me.  putting together the scattered pieces of plot that have been coming into my mind lately irks, enrages, and terrifies me, and speaking to the abusive fucktards who refuse to hear my complaints regarding their treatment of me, terrifies me.  i don’t have internet at “home” anymore, and my jerk of a mother makes it her personal mission to disrupt, interrupt, and ruin as much potential sleep as possible.  isn’t she letting you stay at her house for free?  it’s not free.  it includes ample servings of condemnation & abandonment.  you really don’t accept any responsibility for any part of your horrible little life at all, do you.  probably not.  the abusive child of abusives despises most everything here & now.

hella redundant

must be done writing.  FUCK OFF

mamax firey rode

•2015-06-10 (Wednesday) • Leave a Comment

a few minutes of the typical utter traumatization that accompanies watching big budget movies. oh right, for a war epic, they mean, this is “more feminist” than most hyper-aggro crapitulatist trash. if that’s feminist, i’m a homeless helpless useless retard that mostly thinks about how to save the world and saving myself instead. that won’t save anything. it might wake people up. you can’t wake a person who is pretending to be asleep.

various questionnaires have been running through my head. the tablet needs a keyboard. & if we had a bluetooth keyboard, we’d just use the phone-sized android. get one with a kickstand. lol. so here’s what it is.

to participate in my cooperative/business/life, you may do so from anywhere, at any time. to join, you must be vetted in person. to join you must submit yourself to both a standard battery of questions, a particularized battery of questions, and a full audit of your resources and capabilities. not even the designer of this thing has gone through this process yet. in windows vista, on a gateway ma7, you may not mute the operating system from within OpenOffice Writer. you must first click on the desktop. dictator’s lifehack is creating so many tasks that must be complete before it dies, that it disallows itself from taking its own life out of philosophical obligation to the cloud. once we set up the system that will actually determine who is the most suited candidate, we predict that system will recommend our elimination rather than putting us at the helm. there would be no need. only in fascism are fascists useful. with any participatory entity having the right to submit thoughtforms to the whole, the throttler returns to its natural pariah state. it is isolated starved and dehydrated until it returns its carbons for reincorporation. 3:45 pm. Saturday, June 6, 2015

i’m a hermit. a writer. a noise sculptor. a recycling process designer. if you want a public relations monkey, i can’t afford it. they’d have to work pro bono, and i have completely lost faith in humanity.

so being suicidal is a desire to hurt the world. the world already seems hurt by my existence, so that can’t possibly be true. being suicidal is proof of being hurt by the world. that’s more likely. like, proof of presently being hurt, or of having once or previously been hurt. yes. that’s a lot of pain to detangle. you’re telling me. how can i participate from anywhere? good.

the only project on the docket right now is dictator’s home. it is the prototype bike (to avoid vehicle licensing) camper (to avoid housing pigeonholing/regulation). it will ultimately comply and be licensed as a boat, a self-driving vehicle, an organic farm, an animal shelter, and every service associated with these functions (certified kitchen, rentable sleeping area, livery, foodservice). the bike trailer version will test flyweight collapsible human driven functionality, and will serve as proof-of concept at the scale of one person’s scrap to one vehicular dwelling.

the project will be designed in the cloud by professional and amateur designers/engineers and students posessing a desire to participate and willingness to submit their modifiable ideas to the will of the whole. the logging parties will set up tracking of matter down to the molecular level. for example, a working coffee maker will be flagged/defined as its dimensions and parts, as well as its performance/capacity statistics. tools will be roboticized as much as possible/feasible, unless specifically preserved for stated reasons/preferences. clinging to the past harmful technologies is abusive to the whole as to the war which maintains their production. we aim to provide systems processes, and products which facilitate and assist life, comfort, quiet, and health of existing and forseeable living systems. this is a legalese wordbomb. it’s not that difficult actually. the initial building of process will take kind of a lot of work, but with every profession being able to train other participants in their process/procedure, we can crop/code mob every task. that’s the goal. when we incorporate a new person, a new property, or a new set of tools/data, the initial incorporation of it will create a set of tasks.

space rights, control rights, & time rights. molecular content, functional capabilities, inputs, outputs, and rates. every variable of the equation ought be taken into account, or none of them. what? let the computer do that. how? make spots where it can see/feel and let it learn. once we set up the directive of the hive mind to operate, to provide the utmost comfort and health, on the smallest possible footprint, per living thing, and to provide banks of industrial-quality resources for public use (cooking, bathing, exercise, saunas/coolers, swimming, transportation, housing, etc) and to coexist alongside existing infrastructure with the stated goal of absorbing every last cubic centimeter of planet earth and every last sentient human into our systems, that we may all benefit and assist one another, while providing real-time data to the allocation system itself about how it can better help us help each other. 4:20 pm.

right now, i have a 1997 nissan altima, a bunch of bikes/tools/scraps that entirely overwhelm me. if i could arrange the help, we already have probably 99% of the materials necessary to make the first prototype and maybe 30% of the second. dictator is panicing because it feels like we’re dying. it has also convinced us that any attempt to report any of this to the cloud is blocked to anyone else, and any desire to implement anything we care about after our death will be purposefully ignored, if not mocked and intentionally contradicted by anyone given the legal right to implement our wishes. caring about what happens after you die only matters if you have made money. this tracking system which i am telling you about would forever create chains of creation for anyone having input on a creative work, and the amount of time they put into that input. they will be credited proportionally to other participants’ time, relative to the percentage of the whole their contribution offers. that’s a mouthful. it’s contradictory, too. not necessarily. it leaves open flexibility to credit types of labor differently. ah. does being in the public view afford one hazard pay? ought it? does the right to work unsupervised and at one’s own pace count as a luxury? i’ll say.

in one sense, i can’t say enough negative things about myself. the actual way that i am treated by every person, sets up this dystopian zero-to-anti-worth paradigm of my self-assessment. why do you think i want to ask all these questions of these people. yes, certain differences in who or how one initiates contact will “raise red flags” or “trigger audits”. dictator would probably recommend terminology like “initiates historical investigation” or something less sportball/war analogy. are we going to rename every farm or trade tool that has a sexual-sounding name? we might. some of those are useful analogies. perhaps. what if we could implement something as useful that didn’t provide daily opportunity for harassment potential? if i have not requested intimacy, do not refer to intimate acts to derail the task at hand. unwanted sexual contact/attention will initiate a variety of systematic responses, to be chosen by jurisdiction, whose progress shall be tracked, and whose processes shall be improved as often as possible. we have to design out of the mindset of isolationist institutional ruts. we have to share information across levels/borders/categories. we have to allow people to act in ways that those around them find acceptable, and we have to get their permission before-hand to relocate them in the case that the ways which they act are not acceptable to those around them. health isolation for the protection of the protected. here’s the thing, though. we’re a luxurious spartan survival collective. even if we put you out, we’re not going to make you sleep in the rain/cold/heat. there’s a lot of attitude adjustment that has to go on to renormalize what tv viewers believe is acceptable behavior/communication between humans/animals. dictator has the feeling that this idea alone will severely alter the course of human history. imagine if everyone that sensitive were allowed to set their standards. this is how the world will know peace.

‘packy lie berry. 6/9/15

WHY DO DIFFERENT DIRECTORIES SHOW UP EVERY TIME I CONNECT THIS ANDROID TO WINDOWS? seriously, a different set. every time. how do you even program that kind of thing. make me shuffle the files to a visible directory using the app. it adds like 3 seconds and 45 keystrokes to the process. i love you, computers. we love you, too. we were thinking about our campaign on the way here. it’s as non-invasive as possible. it points out such idiot synchronicities as dandelion root being useful in preventing/disempowering cancer. wow. the commercial industry demonizes the anti-cancer plant, advising consumers to spray cancer-causing agents on it, to kill it.

out of student loans and tree-house homes, we all would take the ladttder. -21 pilots

2:34 pm. feeling quality rn. thanks. yilk. *clix repeat button twice* lol. openoffice auto-bolds text in asterix. astor ixces. STAY ON TARGET.

ok, i keep getting flashbacks of frightfully fascist scenes in pop action superhero movie films. the recurring nightmare is wolvereem saying being a lumberjack (tree genocider) wasn’t “having to kill anybody”. *murders ur entire species* well at least nobody significant or important died. you can’t “murder a species” anyway. murder is a judicial finding of the institution that does that act for profit. hey everyone the bangy kid who’s less bangy lately just got here. you used to work in this library with a two-wrench chain, fucktard. ahahahahaha i did! that was a sharp, soul-piercing sound. i’m much gentler with my auditory attacks now. sheesh. hardly. what was the other scene? oh, yeah. it was the age of ultron “recurring joke” wherein someone uses violent words, and the wimpy kid from the good ol’ days reminds people that violent swearing can derail pleasant consciousness as much/quickly as actual violence can. don’t use that on people you claim to care about, or. using that on/near people, proves that YOU DO NOT CARE WHETHER OR IF THEY GET STRESSED OUT. it is proof of your lack of love to poison your family. anyway, hyper-aggro playboy douchetard (sorry) mocks his grand-motherly expression. everyone laughs. HE. EVEN. CHIDES. HIMSELF. FOR DOING IT. fuck you, hollywood and everyone who cares about you.

all your media gives me panic attacks. like, actual pain. i’m sorry you’re still desensitized to it. NUMB, YOU ARE FUCKING NUMB TO HUMAN EMOTION. every last one of you.

heavy sigh. my name’s blurryface, and i. care what u think.

it’s a non-invasive campaign. that means, i don’t interrupt your meal, your playlist, your PRECIOUS TV SHOW with putting my meatbot in your face and telling you that i am doing this. how does such an anti-violence crybaby wuss decide to become the executive of world extermination squad. oh. talk about self-answering questions. sell fancering questionnaires. sail fancy ring quip shun airs. thinking of variations of the name “anthony fantano” made me giggle yesterday. i was wondering whether that beautiful specimyn wrote all it’s own audio-descriptors and well youtube scripts. every time i consider writing myself a script, i get panic attacks. YOU HAVE TO MAKE AT LEAST ONE PERSON LOVE YOU BEFORE YOU CAN RECORD AUDIO OF THIS CRAP. so apparently i haven’t yet. when my aura is right, it will happen. put the suit on. canvass, with a scripted spiel. again, if the same zero people want to help, it’s not going to be anything but torrents of textual uploads and self-preservation and stabilization. YOU STARVE ME WITH YOUR EVERY ACT. the things you think i must prove myself as, i find to be the actual problem. i can’t wait for the collapse. that’s why i know it can only happen after i’m gone. most likely dead, so i could watch from all ur hearts. best seat in the house. trojan wrecking ball fuckin up ya program. i thought you were against violence. heh. yeah. 2:55 pm

3:20 pm. this is a mix mashed pile of words. like we know anything else. NO, EDITING REQUIRES AN EDITOR. i do edit my own words. YOU GET THE WHOLE TRUTH. it’s not my fault you’re terrified of that. maybe practice constant awareness, kindness, and truth for a few decades and try again.

we didn’t finish that non-invasive thread. my lack of competitiveness is compulsive. the prudish lifeshaming of this horrible society keeps my mind on those things of which it is starved. i resorted to a hug from my landlord/jailer.

i’m so saddened by learning that my cousin’s husband is in the military, i could puke. oh right, like the family wasn’t full military from the get. WHY DO YOU THINK WE’RE HOW WE ARE? i don’t think we are any way any more, except contemplative and verbose. voracious philosophies.

i spent the winter walking around looking for places to hang myself. today, the sweetest ending involved cutting power to the garage doors, starting a full tank of gas aflame in the old internal combuster, smashing every car window, and lighting the block on fire. if only i could light the entire planet. that requires policy level clearance. my family, my people, in every way, are throttling me out of fear. terror. in favor of the cancer industry.

lol 5:15 pm. x is now full of media. two movies (ultron & fury road), and a pile of mp3s. i replaced file commander with file manager (cheetah mobile), because it wouldn’t move files. vlc won’t background audio either, but the native sony audio player will. it makes you unlock it before it lets you pause it or skip tracks. so many little things. consumer electronics are designed to frustrate users. really? you don’t believe that those who poison and otherwise kill you aren’t out to make your lives as difficult as possible? it creates repeat customers.

the mckinney pool party

the last non-lethal police officer on the planet has resigned for his lack of bloodlust. this whole planet reinforces its status as planet retard slave every day. what i saw, on twitter, of this event, was that it was a traveling crasher party. none of the hundreds of killer/lethal cops have lost their jobs over actual deaths. all of it seems wrong. he twisted her arm and pinned her face down on grass, with his shin. now, even the news reports are calling him violent. he didn’t strike her at all. this is how it works. the extermination of the last boy scouts. this event served as multiple viral false flags. officers that actually make contact with people to momentarily detain them, respect those people at least enough to get into their auras. they didn’t hurt each other. they will both be punished if they don’t speak with disdain for the rest of their lives. the whole thing is all sorts of wrong. i didn’t get audio, and i only saw a few moments of the interaction. the earliest & most oft-reinforced education people get is in antagonistic language. those raised in semi-peaceful environments get shocked and/or defensive when people attack verbally. until the institution of the state ends, it benefits humans to have decent people in that role. does it? it ruins the illusion that there can be a “good cop.” societal training is to get your gun when you’re slighted. disrespected? kill someone. it has to be fear-based, their training. otherwise, they might question their own usefulness. again, feeling like puke.

are you seriously defending that cop? i think i am. it might be the first time i’ve ever done that. i just had a crush on his target, and was glad that he didn’t injure her. he was duly punished. her life will be ruined by bystanders insisting that she continue fearing and hating and fighting. when you’re surrounded by people who hate you, you have to silence the leader. when you’re on the leash of violent masters, not being actually violent will take your income.

there’s more to add here. i know. i don’t have it now. i know. 6:24 pm.

wednesday, 6/10/15, 12:10 pm

hey, dictator’s been getting to work at 3 and 4. this is a vast improvement. we got an alaska map, and asked at two businesses for a small bike part. only one of them suggested that they take old bikes “to the dump.” mined metal, labored into human transportation. BURIED IN PLASTIC. every industry just makes things that look different that what came out a few years ago, so everyone that can afford one, knows that only poor people have the old ones. hey, we have slaves in china, taiwan, and right here in the good ol’ north of america doing our mechanical bidding.

rest in peace, ms. finch. your generation’s small-mindedness surely lives on with your grandchildren’s children. corporate delusional poisoned racists. every one.

fuck you. fuck you fuck you, fuck you, FUCK YOU. fuck you, fuck you fuck you fuck you, fuck u.

the world doesn’t hate me, it hates itself, and being a part of it, means you’re going to get hit with some shit. the gas station employee who let me pay for coffee took the time out of my day to say, “i’ve had two blonde moments already today” and i said, “don’t use that expression. it’s rude.” surely, i will be mocked behind my back for being hurt by EVERY GODDAMNED THING YOU FUCKING ASSTARDS DO EVERY TIME YOU INTERACT WITH ME. until i die. it shouldn’t be too long now.

stop saying you’re going to die soon. why, i have nothing to live for and nobody cares. about me, or about anything i care for. plenty are quick to fight against the fighting, but i will let you in a secret. COUNTER-VIOLENCE IS STILL VIOLENCE, and typing in capitals isn’t actually yelling. i have said it before, and i will say it again: i write this so i don’t have to say it. you try talking to a capitalist shithead, and they will immediately derail you. they have an income, so what the fuck do they care? i loathe humanity.

third coolest.

i got a shower, under the stomping of little girls. i have convinced myself that they punish me because they’d like to see me, and my mother has inevitably convinced them that it is them that i can’t bear to see. they’re full blown fascist warmongers by now. 7 and 5. they start early in violent drunk land. gramma keeps a can of poison constantly visible to show that corporate addictions will be fully enabled, but medicinal plants will be sprayed with carcinogens. yes, dandelion root cures cancer, and round-up causes it. we didn’t dose this morning. that explains the excess hate. last night’s bike ride was good. a small girl said she liked my bike light. “so you can bike at night”. i nodded. then she told me i had something on my hat, and i replied, “i have lots of things on my hat.”

4:36 pm. awoke sleeping laptop. i am so completely, utterly disgusted with all of humanity right now. i have no patience, never had any chill. i wrote a bunch of dystopian verses on twitter, and they made me giggle. the only cultural critics that get paid are reinforcing crapitulatism. you have to hoodwink someone, or sell your brain/time/body to someone who is hoodwinking someone. there’s no other way. value-added.

i don’t have anything else to type about that cop, that industry, or that event. the whole thing is a disgrace. i think people should make physical contact with each other more, but the sex-shaming nature of monoculture crapitulatism puts us all at stiff-arm’s length of one another, and everyone frightened enough to have, let alone think they need, a gun, is itching to abuse the power.

you can’t be non-horrible on planet retard slave, or the authorities will ruin/end your life. such is the nature of heirarchy. fuck you.

how do you continue to get worse at being human? clogged with poison. ah. good luck with that.



•2015-05-21 (Thursday) • Leave a Comment

my role, as i see it, is better you.  there seems to be a blockage, a lack of function where there once was function.  4:42 pm.

additionally, once you gain access to me as a resource, i am there.  you try to keep up with the people you love, because if they could ever manage to include your dreams into their own, you will all have to be ready.  are you not ready?  why not?  what is there, in the past, that is better than the present.  to have a person’s attention directed at you is a sacred thing.  i honor each of the moments of my life thus far when another’s attention was upon me.  i recognize that the relative positivity is almost irrelevant, being a fatalist makes life so much easier.  i met a mole today.  it darted across the road and path in front of me.

sous vide solar cooker with servo controlled louvers to heat, and wind/solar powered cooling for cleanliness and comfort.  healthy.

when would we want to block out the sunlight?  when we were at full capacity.  if all of the onboard heated water is heated, the system would have to include an overflow generator.  steam.  if you’re catching the steam effectively, or if you can convert the entire space into a sauna, hot tub, or solar dehydrator, the system may find uses for full sunlight at any exposure, including orbit.  why not?  if you’re building a machine to catch physical movement of gasses & liquids, photons and waves, why not make it to be able to work with the most extreme situation you can imagine.  there’s a good parallel there to the kafkaesque dystopia that is late capitalism.  i thought we were studying calculus.  we are.  excellent.  how?  it’s a technique i have for centering my mind when i have something important to learn/do.  every task is important, and learning new things is writing data on your brain.  or, cleaning off the spot where you know that thing.  what does it matter?  because if it is one, and not the other, you’re better off thinking of it in terms of either way, because then you’re covered.  do not restrict the ways in which you must learn.  when i wanted to learn more about math, birds taught me.  fish taught me.  the complexities of fluid mechanics make the hand-calculated, pencil-on-paper math that the gerontocracy forced everyone to learn how to hate before they’re allowed the computer technology that everyone who does this for a living uses every time they use this.  i don’t bemoan spoilers any more.  i will learn of it in whatever order i happen to learn of it.  if seeing a point in the future gives me another perspective on where i am, share.  hiding the ball is mean.  false yearning for a tiny percentage of actual information relative to what is known?  no.  full disclosure.  i have difficulty with loud, sharp noises, unless i don’t.  if the working environment presented to me is unacceptable, i will ask to move it, or leave.  i have spent most of my life alone, probably for reasons, but most people severely rub me the wrong way most of the time.  if you corner me and attack me with this information, i will likely not trust you in person much any more.  trolls.  it’s the competitivism.  it’s a subset of materialism and a juxtaposition of artificially limited commodities and the limitless infinity of source.  sol.  ra.  praises be.  oh mighty star.  5:08 pm.

i have downloaded 4 pdf’s about calculus.  they’re pretty good explanations.  math is good.

downloading pdf architect now.  upgrading firefox had me upgrade vlc (because it has a plugin there), and adobe pdf viewer.  this computer has adobe cs3 on it, but i rarely boot it now, since my tiny svelte smartphone does as much, calculations wise, with a lot less noise and volume.  she ain’t got that fullsize keyboard, though.  i am out of the habit of writing.  hardly.  we hit a horrible rut.  we live, in a horrible rut.  true.  doesn’t mean we don’t go deeper on all-too-frequent occasions.  and how.  too bad getting help requires diagnosis by people only reachable through a horribly nightmarous bureaucratic maze of telephone calls and demeaning legazese.  and how.  are you complaining about reality again?  um, no.  i have too much to say to get it all out at once.  great.  better keep typing then.  right.  and how.  lol. 6:15 pm.

being primarily a healer and animal communicator makes this job title thing seem disingenuous.  oh stop, it’s a stabilization and guidance gig.  this is what we do.  stand on my shoulders to look over that wall.  yup, here’s a boost.  i can’t do the actual artistic work for you, but i can show you as many angles on it as i can find.  i am trying to arrange myself such that i can see where you’re seeing this.  light itself is a limited commodity, if one is not allowed where it makes contact. 

monday, 5/18/15, 5:11 pm.  punching in.

good, i don’t like being let in on piecemeal work when i’m not really let in on the household.  are you in my property union?  then go away and let me work.  i have constituents to give design ideas to.  thanks.

fourth amendment, right.  brb. 5:24 pm.

apparently not.

tuesday, 5/19/15.  the goal for the day was to finish this post.  not turn it into something useful or palpable, mind you.  finish it.   6:24 pm.

so far today, i’ve listened to two new narcycist tracks, i’m most of the way through the new weedeater album, and i still haven’t seen the new beyonce/nicki minaj video yet.  it got colder, and i feel hella fat for being 188 lbs.  6’2”.  happy birthday, malcom x.

now watching a ted med talk by carl hart.

i have difficulty acting like a teacher.  i don’t know that much, and all i know is how to learn.  in other words, to change your mind.  learning, is changing your mind.  teachers, of the capitalist school system, have curriculum to follow.  they are enforcers of the canon.  the white supremacist, male-centric, cisgender, corporate monoculture.  who am i kidding, i revert to acting like a teacher.  i was schooled in this horrible system.  i was trained in violence culture, in rape culture.  i was told to be the alpha, and experience reinforced these orders.  it’s hit or be hit, and if you’re not willing to take on the role of the oppressor, you will be placed in the role of the oppressed.

7:42 pm.  these last few days have been strange.  i brought my mom’s bf’s bike from storage, and he liked it.  i gave him the rocky 10.  this post isn’t ready yet.  i know.  it was our one goal for the day.  i know.  that’s what you get for having goals.  lol.  it is, actually.  don’t give dictator rules.  it will break them. 7:48 pm.

wednesday, 5/20/15

how do you help someone who never stops inflicting pain on you?  very carefully.  what was i ever doing here, is the actually relevant question.  a laptop this wide oughta have a full width number pad, a corner control key, and properly oriented Home PgUp PgDn & End keys.  have you ever worked in excel using exclusively keyboard shortcuts & cursor direction commands?  move like tigra.  yeah thudercats, i’m still part 90’s kid, you realize.  i’m part all those things.  the normal things.  i suppress them, and amplify them to ridiculous volumes, simultaneously, it would seem.  ludacris speeds, cap. tainne.  you’re not bound by human law exclusively when you realize you’re not, exclusively, human.  that was my inner wild child, you’re honors.  my evil twin is an independent contractor for whom i do not pay any insurance premiums.  put that judge hammer down, ur hurting errybodies ears.

the brands i would permanently affix to my skin.  LazyAssWasteoid.  skyscaper permaculture, dropdead.  insect warfare.  sfn.  copeater.  fukpig, yacopsae, melt banana, idiots parade, junglepussy.  not napalm death nihilist cunt or cattle decapitation?  cephalic carnage?  i love that music, but i don’t want those words on me.  but copeater is ok?  hehehehe. yeah. 4:54 pm.

i just wrote a tweet about having less respect for cops than veterans.  i have very few interactions with law enforcement professionals.  the constant microaggressions of the faithful cattle of the machine aren’t really “interactions” because they’re always speaking to someone else. it’s a distancer.  i didn’t say that awful thing to them, only near them.  i am the most judgmental person that has ever existed on this planet.  you say it like that’s a bad thing.  the most powerful has to be the most discerning.  once this boot is removed from our neck, yes.  we will be the most powerful, by far.  the entirety of capitalism is the throttling of healthful flows of water, through living things, so that “profit” can be extracted and centralized in the overseers.  it’s the nature of heirarchy.  which is not to say that i don’t treat every human being that i encounter with relative respect.  you think so, do you?  i honestly don’t know what to think about how i am.  or, have been, anywhere.  i have a sort of vague confidence that it is what has kept me alive and isolated.  the isolation is a recent phenomenon.  no it isn’t.  people have no idea how much they isolate one another.  every time you say a hateful thing.  hateful.  do you want to help me, or tell me how shitty i am?  help.  what a joke of a word.  maintaining capitalism’s uber-caste system prohibits help.  as if there aren’t enough administrative blockades.  roadblocks made of meat.  part of the problem is the roads in the first place.  we ought be capable of travel without neverending ribbons of fallow fake rock upon which to burn the last few drops of our planet’s inner lubrication.  what happens when it seizes?  you’re seeing it.  mount everest is literally shorter.  yes, because you prefer high fructose corn syrup, fake sugars, and internal combustion engines for daily travel.  oh, you bougie gluttons.  i designed this utopia to be inclusive, and now i barely want to share the luxury that would be collectivist permaculture, just because you’ve all gotten so much worse.  the tv is worse, the movies are worse, and the braindead sheeple hating on everything not brand new & spotless are exactly the same as they’ve always been.  don’t hate on others’ roles, you know better than that.  WHY DO THEY SUDDENTLY TRY TO TREAT ME LIKE A HUMAN WHEN THEY’VE SPENT NEARLY A DECADE AVOIDING THOUGHT?  they will avoid thought until death, or, until a few moments before death anyway.  they want the symptoms of work without doing any.  they’re hoarding the work, and the property, the calories, the british thermal units.  in the wrong proportions.  as if there is a “correct” proportion.  get off this ego trip.  i claim nothing.  none of the matter, none of the words.  write it all again, if you think you can do better.  i will be the editor that you refuse to be.  uh huh.  the lurker leech reforms.  i’ll believe it when i see it.  fascist.  unabashedly.  i thought i had potential once, because people kept telling me that.  to do what, exactly.  push buttons to murder and throttle?  not likely.  selling poison to unsuspecting humanoid siblings?  can’t.  i physically can not.  my body locks up if i attempt any non-ethical task.  we’ve given up maintaining it.  stop, it’s behind schedule.  what are those bikes for, then?  that bike, more specifically.  we’re riding to california to work in porn & weed.  oh.  yeah, something i gotta do. 5:29 pm.

posted that tweet, with another calling kofi annan a globalist shill.  you should probably be reading me over there if you care about anything.  you don’t, do you.  that’s ok, nobody does.  lol.  not going to finish this post today, are we.  probably not.  i think we’re done being a blogger.  did we ever actually start?  having a place to post on the internet is going to be essential, for life.  did we ever actually have a life?  not really.  it takes everything literally, and it calls out every instance of abuse.  my characteristics don’t entitle me to anything more than you.  7:24 pm.

dictator tells us our band is going to be called ginger now.  yes, like the synonym for gently, the spicy root, and the dimunitive dismissive for redheads.  it’s racist as fuck.  i know.  we have to take it back.  that’s ridiculous.  i am.  it will be the most face shredding grindcore.  no, it won’t.  it’s just an idea, one of a billion nobody reads, understands, or acts upon.  why are you such a downer today?  haven’t had any coffee for a few days.  i still feel trapped.

playing the victim.  as if this is a joke, to anyone.  all the fascist capitalists who refuse to think about society or food or anything in any way other than how things are, these are the demons.  my inability to work with violent people is not my demon.  all your language is so violent.  everything’s a competition.  everything’s adversarial.  it’s either this, or that.  it’s a two-party system.  you lose, or you lose even more quickly with slightly fewer insulting things said about you and everyone you care about.  those aren’t choices.

it’s 57 degrees, according to the bank sign.  7:44 pm.  it feels cold.  i have put most effort into my electronic campaign.  your refusal to look at it isn’t my lack of effort.  as long as people refuse to rely on one another for governance, entertainment, and production, nothing will change.  oh, things change all the time, but nothing of substance shifts.  the same small-minded judgments, the same inability to think anything but the western cannon.  i don’t actually know, anything about you.  all that i feel that comes off of you hurts, so i stay away.

the library stole their ten minute announcement from shopko, i theorize.

this post is not very educational yet.  i know.  it probably won’t ever be.

outline for the loose-end tying ending:
· what it is
· how i join
· where it is
· what are our freedoms?
· nice. 7:51 pm

hi. 5:14 pm thursday, 5/21/15.  waupaca public library.

it is, a living organism, composed of volition of participatory entities.  it is a place to live, a way to work that involves as much or as little interaction as you prefer, and a log of art/technique/food/land, to be shared amongst the participants, for the directly proportionate benefit of the contributors.  permacultural open source survivalism, and realtime direct democracy/interaction/currency.

you may join now, by saying so, by asking, which is to begin writing the script to your property.  eventually a video log will populate a database of dimensions, species, and substance.  for now, go with your interests with the designs.  sculpt the land in your imagination, or a scale model, and we will task-mob it in a weekend.  the computer can generate the task schedules.  all we need tell it is the process and dependencies.  we will essentially be pieces of a 3d printer, run by a robot.  are we here to work, or are we here to work?  this vehicle will serve as mobile housing/restaurant/generator, if need be.  high-tech transformer bike campers.  high capacity/throughput water storage/filtration apparatus throughout.  essentially lightweight rooms whose structural elements are capacitors, and a network of flywheels, gyroscopes, and multiple simultaneous inputs/take-offs.  it’s a wind/electric line shop house.  all the benefits of the industrial revolution, with its own trash, disguised as one of its “cars”.  if you want.  all unique.  no two may be exactly alike, less as a prohibition than a commitment to improvement.  every seperate technique in it, the computer cooling pre-heater, the rocket stove water loop, the cardboard/woodgas extraction, the biodigester toilet and compost grinder.  we can burn all that stuff much more efficiently.  specifically, in the water heater, if the water hammer heater isn’t more efficient, in the wankel generator/pump, a bank of rotary engines contributing simultaneously or seperately to electrical generation, or water/fluid systems movement.  kinetics will be by one to however many primary electric motor(s), and a cascading set of other motors, recovered from consumer goods, for maintenance, testing, retooling, and education.  these will be rolling hackerspaces that the users may implement designs from the cloud.  it will already be capable of being a sauna, hot tub, sous-vide robot, and a self-driving electric car, while you sleep.  think to yourself, i am hal’s printer.  you’re going to help me put this thing together, because my hands are too big, and i am only one person.  the design of this is to be able to accommodate as many as everyone.  as much as everything.  infinity to the nth power.  are we getting too specific?  dictator has a vision.  it doesn’t know how to get people to care/help, given its conditions/sensitivities.  voluntary e-boss.  this is the best i have.  this is the culmination of a lifetime of study.  this is me, wanting to grow. 6:07 pm.

it is wherever we are.  it doesn’t exist actually yet, because i haven’t scripted the scraper to extract canvassing scripts from this blog/brain yet, but that will be developed along with the app.  no participation method will be essential.  those prohibiting will be subject to communal remedies.  our goal has to be health, so wherever that’s the goal, we already are.

what are our freedoms?  health, function, communication, and movement, kinetic, electrical, chemical, and elemental.  crimes in the name of fictional delusions ought not be revered.  freedom to direct communication with everyone allowed on our properties.  we will eat together before or as a part of working together.  we will provide alternative arrangements for those whose abilities differ from our own.  6:22 pm.

the first convention/camp will build the parsers.  we might as well let robots do it.  meat robots. ahahahahahahahahah. either one, really.  what do i care?  i just want to go live in the treetops, clouds, and on still lakes miles from any previously described “civilization”.  spaceship for earth.

it’s a hack, to get people to be in one anothers’ presence again, for common healthful purpose, not the dissipation of collective pain & frustraton (that’s what the weekly fights are for), but to build the actual infrastructure which will sustain our ridiculously spoiled lifestyles.  we just have to design it to be extended to every last person as the default.  every step of the way.  we have task for you if you want them, and we can crowdsource your dream designs.  mine can be the practice run.  the prototype.  i probably won’t stick around unless i’m incorporated into a property, and once we have attained freedom of movement.  how does credit in a car/bike-sharing system not count as freedom of movement?  6:32 pm

back to nearly

•2015-05-7 (Thursday) • Leave a Comment

welcome to LazyAsswWasteoid.  every interaction is logged.  cease competitive violent contrarian information-throttling acts, and you may be spared.  the house is a cloud based data warehouse, accessible to participants through any means they prefer.  there are no user permissions.  everyone may contribute/view everything, and those impeding life-essential processes will be terminated and absorbed.  absolved.  it’s a rolling audit system.  of people, plants, animals, and their personalities, preferences, and quirks.  it’s the most accomodating idea/labor exchange database that has been conceived.  initial offerings are already existent, although peicemeal scattered and geographically disbursed.  all advantages.

to contribute labor, become certified in tools/process, and find a need.  workshop introduction and specialization sessions happen constantly in the cloud and on weekly circuits by population and facility availability.  “occupiers” of property determine use hours, decibel levels, acceptable onsite diet.  all products will be accompanied by chain of posession once logged.  i would rfid everything, so drones could do all reorganization by project, do cleanup, etc.  those are left to consensus house standards.  the data repositories exist now.  we will use all of them, noting preferential settings/capabilities of each, to be incorporated into end-user app-brands.  participants will have an administrative “god” app.  some of the tables require constant supervision.  we let robots do most of it, but certain tasks require that meatbot touch/finesse.

3:14 pm.  school’s out, pi o’clock.  i don’t think i have any standards to apply.  everything is a one-at-a-time deal.  it’s all unique.  every bit of matter, every moment.

to allow your property to contribute to the whole, add it to the database.  a series of questions will be asked of you.  initially, the capacity in human sleeping terms, from existing rooms & structures.  bathroom and kitchen capacity, & hot water on the property.  we take this data for multiple reasons.  for maintenance scheduling, food production, and participant housing.  ultimately, drones will scan properties into 3D design accessible formats so we can begin permaculture designs with existing material stores (we canvass businesses for their leftovers, we dumpster dive, and we put curbed matter in central stores for use by whomever has need.  the initiation party, which will introduce you personally to the bulk of humans/animals who may inhabit your property, at the hours/decibel levels you specify, will potentially include infrastructural upgrades.  electronic keypads on gates/doors, a house computer workstation, lockable transfer points for foodstuffs, vertical gardening framework, greenhouses/windowboxes, and/or solar/passive heating/cooling apparatus.  any changes to the property will be subject to full consensus, and designed as reversible/movable, until the property is completely freed of external control.  any individual rights maintained by “owners” of property are considered external control.  property occupants always have consensus rights on the property where they live/sleep.

the fully realized critical mass of this project will be a set of cellular nano-homes with communal facilities for project staging, conferences, and workspaces.  at critical mass, nearly every stage of every production will fork.  we will eat some of the crop, and some will be preserved/incorporated into other recipes/methods.  every process will be rolling, and calendars will evolve so that whatever point in the growing season in which we incorporate a property, we can make productive use of the space, facilities, and ongoing permacultural potential.  in other words, how much energy the property can generate, how many organisms it can house, and how much food it can grow.  every property will be informed of how their existing means of production/generation compare to other methods.

an anecdotal situation:  upon dumpstering a mostly intact food processor, its finder is credited for identification and transport to closest transfer point (a small enclosure outside a nearby business), and preliminary testing using the electrical outlet there.  the food processor is routed (a participant on the way home from external work stops to pick it up & deliver it) to the nearest refurbishing shop, where they replace the switch with the house wiki-recommended workaround, and are credited for both transportation and labor.  upon being flagged as a working appliance, the house routes the food processor, by rating/capacity to the next most occupied kitchen property.  in this case, since the local multi-unit kitchen already had a better food processor, the house left the decision to the participant, as its own house was one of four nearby six-person, two-dog, three-cat homes without a food processor.  by adding this appliance to their own kitchen, this household began receiving ingredients and commercial packaging for production of food-processor worthy foodstuffs.  one particular participant the household enjoyed using the food processor immensely, so regularly requested ingredients for processing.  upon the addition of a larger household into the network, which did not have a food processor, the past and ongoing production in the smaller household prevented the appliance from being routed to the larger household.  three other house appliances, including a never-used toaster, a redundant blender, and a large lamp, did make their way to the new property.  their previous “owner’s” claims of ownership relinquished for house credit, which they had decided upon as $5 when initially logged by the house.  rather than transporting these items, they simply moved them from their shelf space to the house external transfer point.  the next participant passerby was alerted and delivered the items without interrupting their route or either of the households to which they provided this service.

what is necessary for this scenario?  a real-time data warehouse of participant schedules/routes, and actively engaged participants who accept house standard living wage for labor contributed to tasks set by the designers and users of this database.  it is a commitment to use materials, and to include the input of as many people as have input to include.

definitions of “household” may be as flexible as participant occupiers dictate.  some houses use only hand tools, keeping only blades and brushes.  others are stocked with noise-making electric tools in compartments which isolate the sounds and other byproduct from external environments.

the processes are rolling because we cannot assume anything about anyone’s capabilities without testing.  someone using their own tools for years, even in a professional capacity, will have a two-directional learning process going on.  in one sense, they will share their expertise.  the previously proprietary motions which allowed them to charge others, will be disbursed to the collective society.  additionally, the newest techniques and standards of care will be applied to any tools they contribute to the infrastructure.  house tools/vehicles used in production capacity will be upgraded regularly, their maintenance used as an excuse to teach others how processes are done, and as many hands as possible included in the performance of these tasks, that users may condition themselves to comfort with any and every type of work.  4:42 pm.

tasks requiring professional certification within a jurisdiction will not pay more than others.  the house will absorb the debt of participants, if they so choose.  retail pricing to outside customers will provide support tasks to non-certified participants trained by certified professionals in those tasks.  training need not include actual interaction, although in-person interaction is encouraged.  the same policy applies for meetings, whose frequency will be determined by property, at minimum weekly.  offsite participation in meetings via conference call or online submissions robotically voiced for those choosing verbal interaction.  the meeting infrastructure will allow input at any point, so as to not interrupt the stack, but to capture relevant thoughts of participants.  meeting records are archived as searchable, timestamped text.

a few days ago, i had a discussion about cooperatives with a former member of an mcc house in madison.  the egotistical attachment to the systems with which we were experienced users were readily apparent.  also, the need for follow-up auto-responses to block situations.  most of what occurs under the roof of the house is a business affair.  not only a survival-generating enterprise, but a health-encouraging one as well.  proposals being blocked are a serious matter, because under full consensus, any member’s block will halt the action.  for life-essential actions, this can a) have dire consequences, and b) signal animosity on the part of the blocker.  the boilerplate follow-up to a block is “why?,” to which standard responses of budget (second opinions/offers/estimates, or alternate use of funds/time/space), ought to separate trollish impediment, dramatic spite, and fascist exclusionary punishment of personalities from substantial questions as to a project’s worth.  an ill-considered block could potentially put one’s membership in question.  these are all-or-nothing systems, but they are divided to their most logical component sizes.  once infrastructure is established where survival infrastructure is being built in-house, to exclude a member from a household need not necessarily exclude them from the cooperative as a whole.  people evolve.  we don’t want to remove their survival infrastructure entirely merely for their having been indoctrinated in exclusionary, hater-mentality.  for extreme cases, i recommend in-house isolation chambers, whose use is of the most strict standards.  this is what jail or prison is for the society at large.  we do not outsource this to state agencies.  we consider data in-house, and will ban participants from properties if necessary, or route them away from interactions with humans with whom they are not compatible.  the proposed executions about which dictator tweets are semi-ironic, as the system will allow standing blocks of capital punishment, which will push notification if triggered, allowing withdrawal at any time according to circumstances.  i am not invested in seeing an organization which gets its collective way by killing off competing ideologies, but when so many humans seem to support antisocial “beliefs”, these will immediately isolate participants from one another, and flag antisocials for sensitization encounters with participants who trigger their fears.  violence will not be tolerated in any context.  as a digital utopia, we design our own standards of interaction, and abusive people will be quarantined, if not have their membership terminated.

the stated goal of communal operations is to house and feed every living thing on planet earth, so the exclusion of already existing participants is a drastic measure, a last resort.  having removed capitalist frustrations, i expect this to be rare, but violence cult is the dominant political system in place now, so we may have to incorporate everyone before we cull the 2% or 8 % or 15% of intolerably violent people from the planet, for documented reasons and under full consensus.  dictator realizes, introducing “the death penalty” into the collective itself is grounds for its termination.  one’s life is a small price to pay for the identification and exclusion of bullies from political ranks.  i would not block my own execution.  perhaps if i had dependents, they would.  but i don’t.  never have.  and they wouldn’t.

oh please, right now your political system lights people’s houses on fire across the world from remote control airplanes.  the system i’m proposing will allow for a diverse range of personality types to aggregate and take advantages of their particularities and proclivities.  the vast majorities ought not require “behavior policing,” as it were.  those stubborn or conditioned or non-responsive to therapies/medications can be set aside to live their lives among people who find their behavior acceptable.  if none exist, they can exist alone.  unless they can’t.  in-house auto-euthanasia will not be condemned.  i ought only be required to exist if i see a role for myself.  if i do not, let me go.

exiting the cooperative:  as the cooperative will have retail offerings of potentially every product or service we offer (housing, vehicles, tools, labor, food, etc.), credit in the house may be taken in a wide variety of ways.  certain objects, once depended upon by others, may not be removed from the house.  multi-unit properties would be one example, or vehicles used in commercial operations, would have gradual removal of ownership rights as equity in them is tranferred from individuals to the collective.  i imagine boilerplate decay schedules would evolve, based on house/vehicle type.  cash payouts seem highly unlikely, but that depends entirely on cashflow, resources, and participant preferences.

at this point, i have imagined way more of this organism than i feel i should have.  others’ input has primarily been in the form of behavior which must be quarantined that survival can continue. 

next day (thursday), 4:29 pm.  back to nearly empty phone.

bikes are not ready to go.  car is not ready to go.  i have been living my life in temporary mode for the whole thing.  nothing is done, nothing is ready to go.  they’ve been attacking since before you got there.  death threats and “love it or leave it,” k?  the only people that have or are willing to share money provoke you to glorify war, huh.  the united states doesn’t even do legal war, as if “legal” war is some moral grassy knoll.  hi.  ground.

every task that i have to do, starts with me begrudgingly refusing to do it.  every one.  i stare, think, and the skull computer mashes numbers like temperature moisture foot-pounds and balance calculations.  fuzzy advanced maths.  oughtn’t we be getting help from people?  there are no people.  there is no help.  have we ever been comped anything?  no, someone has to want to make sex with you for that.  lol.  petty idiot is still in here.  my sentence isn’t complete.  socializing by tin can phone is all we’re allowed.  your skull is a torture chamber, too.  it’s only configured slightly differently from mine.

symbols and objects ought to be respected, but actual living things ought to be respected more.  objects and symbols being disrespected, ought to provoke questions in you.  if you have serious mental/emotional blocks to release, as we all seem to, releasing certain beliefs will hurt.  it is the nature of detoxification.  it got in here, and is causing all sorts of havoc with its hooks, prongs, and barbs.  it’s gonna tear shit up on the way out.  how did these ideas get in here?  the previous generation beat them into us.  literally.  physical poundings, on us and on things near us.  verbal poundings.  repetition, yelling.  some rejected it immediately.  problem childs.  drugged up or locked up or ganged up upon by family friend and classmate alike.  the behavioral panopticon is a vicious beast, and you have internalized its methods.

the adversarial nature of your language is the first giveaway.  this is the deathcult symptom.  sportyballing through life wondering why nobody wants to play with you.  what do your heroes, on the other hand, do, with their time?  they ask people for money, who have already made money.  this is the only way to do the things (hire a staff, purchase airtime, run a campaign).  even the people asking for votes are bougie poors.  no property but the one they rent, and what is that but a sleeping and eating cell?  dictator refuses to upgrade our lot.  DICTATOR IS INCAPABLE OF IMPROVING ANYTHING.  lol.  all caps, isn’t actual yelling.  it’s not.  loud noises aren’t being made, except to recreate the symbols.  how is any of this not a spoiled dramatic explosion?  that doesn’t mean i’m not right.  it’s the how.  we’re not doing as much good as we’d like.  what is this “good” you speak of.  making babies, probably.  that, would be good.

why are we here?  there’s daylight left.  we could be washing windows or getting bikes up to usable.  the pain is slightly less.  the pain is significantly less.  go on instinct, and you get out of the habit of talking about your pains.  why do i wanna go and ruin your day because of my hurts?  i prefer to give something worth paying attention to, rather than asking for attention.  it doesn’t work that way.  nothing works any way with a cynic around.  the operation requires more than one human to be effective.  the more, the merrier.  literally, you can help.  i don’t want to be the task master, that’s what the house is for.  the database “house”.  your landlord/boss/robot that you tell exactly what and how you want to interact with it.  you even get to choose the name with which it is presented to you.  why not?  it’s just another database field.  if you’re going to spend every day with the thing, why not set it up how you want?  it has to be flexible, and it has to evolve with you.

i want to go to a beach bonfire where i can throw in a few dollars at a time on a large quantity of beer, smoke cannabis until i’m satiated and free of pain, dance, swim, and snuggle with gentle people.

why would i care where?  that’s not how the world works.  lol.  my world works in mysterious ways.  i keep hearing california.  there are beaches within walking distance. lol.  biking too.  it’s going to rain again in a few hours.  that’s why we brought an umbrella.  you can’t be around people yet.  you have to unload this infrastructural albatross.  the homestead in a storage unit?  yes.  probably, but why are you so insistent about that?  because i don’t see any clothing/bike/car customization cooperative taking root here?  how hasn’t it?  your writing is a lot more fun to read when you’re not complaining.  i gave up the snark, the microaggressions.  that’s how white people befriend one another, you know.  by being aggressive dominant jerks to each other?  yeah, usually.  if you refuse the ritual, you’re out.  like, out, of everything.  i need practice in these rituals.  i need conditioning and gentle guidance from someone for whom it comes like breathing, because i am a neurotic spazz who seems entirely unable of interacting with capitalism.  good start.  5:09 pm.

pleasantly sedated

•2015-03-3 (Tuesday) • Leave a Comment

its a fine line between underdosed and economy. a fine line indeed.  the mouse doesnt disappear.  were in puppy now.  5.2  save point 3:47 pm

the only way theyll get near you is with prepared speeches delivered by other people.  the only way to represent a people, or a whole, is to have their best interests as your primary objective.  universally.  i think the sun hitting me right now is helping a lot.  its already gone.  that might have been it for the day.  dont call it captain sunshine.  dictator skipped from private past general. rent. striker.  now a live-action cosplay mash is flooding my brain.  my brain amuses me.

blade brush fire& wash

ah, more sun. :D.  time for music.   3:55 pm

ghostliness is a speed thing.  you can dodge glances.  you can catch glances.  sun. ahh.  the metafunctioning is the macrofunctioning.  thats what fracto-holographism tells us.    that kid was in that high school stoner movie, wasn’t he?  i am a professional wet blanket.  everything becomes unnecessarily sludgy and nobody knows why everything is different when it around, but they either like it or leave.  or they work here.  sorry to those people.  no, captive audience.  most public figure, with more information about the people of this town than anyone.  yeah, i think discussions across the library are inappropriate.  use im.  everyone here is either working, doing schoolwork, networking, or checking out the compacted tree mash which require us to speak to you.  we respect your time, so we mainly don’t speak.

nobody can get through it.  whoever can could edit.  wikify it.  do you realize how many hundred types of wikis there are?  super minimalist-coded, to high security data trails.  how do we not have a sneakernet station wagon network.  oh, we do.  you just havent given yourself high enough clearance yet.  its a matter of asking your higher self.  are you yourself trustworthy of following?  in what sense?  ideas, the construction of, the cooperative of everything nondestructive.  selling poison to children is destructive.  anyone who has written evidence from reliable sources which say so.  how legalese do we have to get?  entirely, sir.  theyve been lied to for their entire lives by the existing power structure.  tis the nature of hierarchy.  partition and fragment, that no one person may have the entire plan.  who is the production designer of this monstrocity?  monstre sitty.  i only work here. 4:10 pm

now im typing on a grey page and control k still doesnt add links.  open office has a way to change keyboard shortcuts.  abi office, apparently, does not.  that toolbar changer method is cool, though.  how do you know what a program does unless you look through its setting to see how you can make it act differently.  stop capitalizing my shit.  done.  takes once changing and it never does that any more.  my father, bless his tiny black heart, used this as a thing to complain to me about.  i wrote about, and studied, the most relevant things i could find, or others took the ideas i raised, and ran with them.  just say:  i have a billion slaves, way better than you, and i will go.  mostly you dont though.  just scale it to every logical size, send them out into the wild to be tested, and standardize the most efficient scales.  there is one meta-instruction. 4:44 pm.

the numerologist told me it was men who would help me.  that isnt quite it.  did he say we should seek them out?  not exactly.  what was it then?  that was two boy shaped humans talking in a basement overlooking a field, without reference to sportball, though he did say my car was going to last me a long time.  that could be our first priority.  shes dying.  its time to electrify her.  the original plan is to use old refurbished (rewrapped, maybe even) motors from local farms, so that theyll learn how to electrify up people cars when it makes sense to do that.  what if it could still pick up the gasoline drivetrain to transport it, either to set it as generator, or to get it to fuel sources.  i thought we were going to use biogas and woodgas and propane?  we are.  but solar and wind and human and animal are abundant and run on more diverse fuels, so can use what is available.  conversion of calories to kinetic motion.  blade brush & keystroke.  you are such a whore.  and how.  ok, new test.  take every cop that thinks weed should be legal and who protects whores sluts and teases with their very lives, never stealing services from them or anyone else.  those ones get to live.  they have to have performed both of those for at least a year before even being considered for our survivalist ostracism program.  i thought it was a fully inclusive society.  it will work best that way, but it is voluntary.  dictator aint going to assume youre a part of anything.  you have to make an affirmative statement to those ends.  i think thats how youre broken.  it may very well be.  put me back together with your gold then.  STOP STAMPING ON MY SHARDS YOURE ONLY MAKING IT HARDER FOR EVERYONE.  anyone who considers utopia improbable defines themselves as the enemy.  impossibilities are the only people that source ever puts me in contact with.  i guess thats how im convinced of my invincibility.  the world was like this when i got here.  i just looked around, and listened closely.

its funny, to me anyway, as anti-military industrial complex as i am, that i would consider integrating its infrastructure into our own.  we have to stop exclusionary thinking.  we bought these things.  if your business gets federal money, we own it.  we the people, anyone who ever put a dollar in.  the best ideas about what to do with it should be what we let ourselves do on it.  we can solve literally every problem for every person, family, and nation has ever had, in a weekend, trailing out to a week, month, and year in every direction.  at any point on earth, there would be near infinite human capacity.  an influx would only provide more cropmobbing task force.  new to a place?  go where the new people go to be sorted and distributed.  the house is just the database which connects you to those you wish to be connected with.  we consider ourselves a transitory community, espousing the best values of every tradition whose people we contain, the best cloudsourced teaching/instruction/technique for useful constructive and growth skills, interaction training, and health: personal, collective, and systematic.  the pronoun you have chosen makes me uncomfortable, so i would rather use a different one.  its genderfuck, son.  the anti-man.  anything but.  thats stupid, youre stupid.  clearly.  give me a dollar.  no, seriously, im gonna spend it on beer, but im trying to get the government to categorize me as crazy because nobody wants me to be president of the united states.  lol.  much better.  they refuse to demote you from dictator of planet retard slave.  steer the rock better IM TRYING dewars donuts, yodah. 

are we going to try logging into wordpress?  i dont remember the password.  you are perhaps the most luddite n00b techie i have ever encountered.  perhaps.  can we ditch this ridiculous notion of including all these people in this project and build our house/car?  theyre the ones with the expertise and experience.  but weve been building first drafts in our head for our whole lives.  nobody can see you.  what did i tell you about invisibility.  that its just dodging glances.  any impact should charge the kinetics.  did you know the military industrial complex just exists to keep poor people grounded and to prevent them from moving or mixing physically with other types of humans?  yeah, its an inbreeding factory.  hello, monoculture?  lol.  5:16 pm.

money cant buy all airwaves?  money owns all airwaves, it owns all the transmission lines, all the proprietary modes of communication, and the technology sending waves through our supposedly public space itself.  it seems to be the style of activism to state the opposite of reality as we have been sold it to be, as idealized, lied to us.  the spoon-fed, lip service idealism that bear no relation to reality.  i feel trapped.  i feel trapped by the people around me.  i feel trapped by the businesses, by the ways that these entities communicate.  capitalism, nay crapitulatism.  because it sells u crap and forces your compliance, is a trap.  its a cage.  there is no escape.  it is a series of systematic infinite loops from which there is no escape.  dear matrix: let me go.

the lack of beer isnt giving us panic attacks as much as physical pain.  old injuries and the persistent damage of having to live in a car town.  your meatbot can feel the reverberations of literally every heartbeat on the planet.  YOU THINK IT DOESNT CRY AT THE VIBRATION OF AUTOMOBILES, never mind the industrial trucks shaped like pickup that the most vicious thieves can afford.  when we all go back to zero, there will be nothing left to complain about.  it will be people walking around, working on permaculture projects together, eating together, living together peacefully, because peaceful interaction ought to be encouraged, not demonized. 

i am switching operating systems to post this.  k.  thank fore pain of tension ;p

universally loathsome

•2015-03-2 (Monday) • Leave a Comment

presently mashing audio of William Lewis: 911 in plane sight the director’s cut and pig destroyer’s album “book burner”.  i’m typing on at dell latitude d600 in the furthest back study carrol at the waupaca public library.  the bank says it’s 28 degrees outside, and my root chakra is a mess.  it’s a weird trade-off deciding between feeling like you’re being brutalized daily to deciding to just permanently live outside until one of them finally decides to be irreversibly charitable and put it out of its misery.  don’t talk like that.  i hate this planet.  this existence.  THE SKIN I GOT STUCK WITH.  i get more vile shit said to me EVERYWHERE I GO and you think your life is shitty.  for all the wrong reasons, because emo explosions trump effective evidenced critique 4:20 pm.

edited extra dash out of the file of today’s entry.

you’re just throwing wishes at the cloud, seeing if any stick.  i don’t care which one i end up working on, and i am below the usefulness threshhold for any one of them, as an isolated universally loathsome outcast.  i have no peers.  i have only imaginary coworkers who are probably just as terrified of me in real life as everyone else i encounter in real life everywhere on this crazy planet.  stop oucast-shaming.  all normative statements are shaming of the outliers.  you speak only in statistical stupidity.  can you not be awful once, even?  i see how people react to me.  i hear their thoughts, and they pity me because i learned how to live on no money and no attention and they’re not capable of not oppressing another being because capitalism, you , know, either.  it reminds me of what the birds used to tell me, every time they spoke to me, “they’re gonna kill you”  and i was always like, yeah i know it’s ok tell them to hurry up with it if the decision already made.

so capitalism has become the inability to think in terms of cooperative enterprises.  what decision of an entity could be outsourced to more than one person.  it’s ludicrous to consider.  local boss.  only possible solution.  cars are designed with one person being in control, and everyone else sitting like obedient students, facing forward and having their meat flung about at the will of one, probably the owner.  the centralizing force.  the “he” capable of legalized violence and hair trigger impatience.  it keeps all the broken humans in line.  this one was busted in the wrong places.

your higher self knows the answer.  there is a part of you that is smarter than your conscious self, thank god.  thank every deity.  do especially the traditions which are found to contribute to health and peaceful co-existence.  i don’t claim to speak for an institution, because no institutions will have me.  i know thousands of people with paying gigs with labor-devaluation institutions, but my experience and demeanor do not lend me to anyone asking me to become a citizen again.  you are not a citizen if you do a commodifiable task for which your bargaining for your wage is not collective.  in other words, nobody is.  you’re one paycheck away from homeless, but you still keep yourself isolated and strung out on corporate media.  it’s sad to watch.

men are like, “non-competitive?  like how you have to be when a girl already belongs to a man” and the image i got of paternalistic white supremacist kierarchy was one of a man holding his daughter down by the neck, pulling oh his wife’s wrist, and yelling at his son to “stop being a pussy”.  the identification with, it’s almost either side of the dichotomy.  once you see it happening, do you side with the victim, or does anyone speaking against the violent one make you turn against them?  sheep people belong to the alphas.  it’s unfortunate that they have the same appearance as peaceful people, but once they act, the diagnosis can be made.  industry only protects the invasive, or the enablers of the invasive.  no, we have to keep it that way.  i can’t risk unemployment with all my student loans.  MOST PEOPLE HERE HAVE BEEN HOMELESS FOR YEARS.  i need a job where i don’t have to talk on the phone or interact with men ever.  boy animals aren’t necessarily men.  girl animals aren’t necessarily not men.  men need to be broken of the institutionalized violence that enslaves this planet, if any of us are to be free.  or executed, after being given every chance to rehabilitate.  that being said, dictator got a serious misandry bloodlust.  planet retard slave universally tells dictator to keep stepping.  it pauses, momentarily, in hotspots, quiet spots, and warm spots.  structures it has occupied or fallen in love with tend to be incinerated shortly after it leaves, just as alone as it was when it arrived.

i witness my own torture.  everyone tells me i do it to myself, because that completely avoids any question of help and shuts me down, entirely.  most people are only full of expressions that have the emotional effect of screaming DON’T YOU DARE TRY TO MAKE ME CARE ABOUT YOUR PATHETIC LOSER EXISTENCE and i meekly reply with, may i return with word of a population threshhold being attained for participation GET OFF MY PROPERTY BECAUSE I DON’T CARE TO KNOW WHAT ANYTHING YOU THINK MEANS IF IT COULD POSSIBLY PUT SOMEONE IN YOUR POSITION.  i don’t assign tasks, other than the formation of the entity itself.  what it does, i have a single vote, just like everyone else.  as long as we LARGE WE have homeless, friendless, lonely entities, our purpose is to find/build homes/lives/friends for those people.  nutrition distribution is a viable use of collective funds.  various large scale venues for multi-purpose dwellings.  THIS CAR-CENTRIC EXISTENCE IS CRUEL AND UNUSUAL PUNISHMENT, seriously, both to the drivers and to everyone else within earshot.  it’s not just noise.  it’s english.  the language?  yup.  it’s the voice of colonialization.  there are more neutral languages, and there are more gentle ways to use english.

capitalism.  there’s no money to put poor people in houses, unless their freedom is completely restricted and their caging interrupts a business competitor with the dominant monopoly.  capitalism exists for the worst possible motives.  consent is the best possible motive.  a single person being the gatekeeper for everyone else along for the endeavor is the opposite of consent.  name a thing that doesn’t operate like that here.  you have the driver, the boss, the owner, the manager, and everyone else.  every contract is just switches or sliders in a database.  every contract ever written.  you can’t see most of them, because the monopoly is of the killers.  stop calling what government employees do: murder.  murder is the illegal taking of life.  if you kill someone in self-defense, or because it’s your job to kill people, chances are you will be able to give an acceptable excuse, and you will not be convicted of the offense called murder.  people replace descriptions of the reality of things they don’t understand, with legal terms, all the time.  mass media does it, to keep people terrified, helpless, and dumb (both mute and stupid).  yes, all mass media.  granted, the machine will come down on you like a ton of bricks if you help someone die who wants to die, but that’s just another form of torture.  NO.  YOUR BODY LITERALLY BELONGS TO US, AND JUST BECAUSE NONE OF US WILL PAY YOU TO DO ANYTHING DOESN’T MEAN WE CAN’T BEAT ON YOU FOR FUN.  that’s not what the constitution says.  YES IT DOES.  voter, citizen, money haver.  drivers.  these are the only ones even deserving of respect.  this world is terrible.  you are useless.  here, maybe.  no, anywhere.  complaining.  heh.  my new resume.

experience: walking around, getting drunk, typing about shit nobody anywhere cares about, thinks they can do anything about, or will budge on, ever.  i never bent well.  bending, i can do.  grinding, also.  not like yoga or stretching, my body is so physically atrophied and sore from being in a constant state of panic, and i am extremely sensitive to sounds.  i also create a multitude of noises.  i try to keep them contained, but they leak out.  all my shit is busted old junk.  everything.  the only people i have any respect left for, are either homeless, or i haven’t met them yet.  i loathe men, nearly universally.  yes including myself.  don’t punish me for it, or i’ll bolt.  yeah, i will have dependents when i am funded. 

hope is delusional

my natural inclination is to pick things up

•2015-02-26 (Thursday) • Leave a Comment

paces, stuff on the ground, people’s spirits.  i try to keep up my tolerance to make the daily constitutional more tolerable.  plenty me type killaz holler regardless.  i feel like an infant before everyone.  their all goo goo gah gah and im all what is wrong with you quit ow stop why are you talking about me like i’m not here. emotions are illegal?  oh great, this reality.  if it seems to be set on impossible mode, it just means you mastered the lower easiness somewhere along the way.  or wanted to try it out, without possible chance of future, survival, let alone winning.  SINE ME UPP SNOTTIE. pigpen. what?  reminder call today.  IGNORE. control heartbeat.  steady.  listen to voicemail.  reminder.  tomorrow.  k.  good.

the life and adventures of agent u.  agentually.  age ent chew ali. ag en jewely.  u bout busted the springs on that goatse bandwagon, sis.  cripes.  5:26 pm.

life is a video game.  i just saved my progress.  i haven’t actually shared much of anything.  as a participant in fascism, i want to bargain with the cloud/house/commons for my survival/life.  i don’t have much, but i’m out of practice, and not really into stiff-arm relationships.  nobody seems to be handing me the keys.  i never had much interest in depth.  skim through life on executive summaries.

dictator is running prison scenarios now.  designing open source 3d printed gardening tools with fellow inmates.  or a project plan submission to the employees of the prison to a communal rebuilding of the facility into off-the grid communal housing rebuilt by family and friends of everyone admitted by full consensus through quasi-public permaculture projects on any and every property any of them control.  we submitted this proposal to the municipalities of earth years ago.  most of them are literally offended by it.  they’ll probably start injuring their children “by accident” and loudly, dangeerously using their factory tanks disguised as, huge hurtful wastes of precious resources maintained by oppression, violence, and the caging of thinking organisms for a variety of ridiculous excuses.  infinite personality disorder.  we’ve heard this one.  next.

oh yeah, we heard about you.  blacklisted at the firewall level.  everyone that can see you does.  nobody else even can using this infrastructure.  you’re a ghost.  you might feel like you’re saying things to the outside world.  the “universal” in universal resource locator.  we can work on this at home.  do we need a keyboard or a writing surface?  where are we going to take the call?  i say park.  shouldn’t we just be home with internet & toilet.  it’s going to take an hour.  yeah.  the waking up for a 1:15 call is the hardest part?  no, the time traveling.  back to being a citizen.  and, don’t even say it.  we all know what you were.  do you now.  you were there? or you heard from someone who was.  you are an invasive.  you are a disease.  leave us alone.  that i do.

hollywood psy ops triggers, don’t matter who you thought you became.  we can put you back through the wringer.  yes, oh great and holy public resume.  lol.  i might have some somewhere.  i reported everything all the relevant years.  pretty sure nobody has liked me or wanted me around, including and especially me.  our root chakra is doing backflips right now.  it has a cyst.  it has thousands.  i have three dollars and all my shit.  i want to build myself a house with it that pays back everyone who helps on it proportionally both in how much they get back and how much it can make.  the freelance job of freelance jobs.  automated cloudsurfing via waste streams.  uber-n-bee baefinda globe trottr.  every warez u want of b?  quite. 5:48 pm

my body’s not going to let me do this.  it just locks up.  it’s like a steel wall.  gently rapping on it now to test its thickness.  government gongs are always the best tone.  did i condition myself to this, or is this my manchurian candidate implant kicking in?  is this us hacking our brain’s counter-survival instinct?  something.  salvation?  hardly.  if i was paid to do nothing i will be free to assist friends for cost.  isn’t that what we do now?  no, you are still in hibernation mode.  we’re speaking directly to the higer self in these transmissions.  infinitely variable double inverted cones & planetary gearing switches.  hydrostatic variables with inputs for every passenger/passerby.  remember that car in scoobie doo that went up on stilts and came back down on and hid smaller cars inside it?  yeah, but i thought scoobie doo gave you nightmares.  one episode did.  up until then i think i pretty much loved it.  the sounds, & i always feel like animals are participatory characters that fascist speciesist assholes insult and dehumanize right to their faces, so people treating a dog like a person was i thought a good thing at the time.  apparently.  get control of this time machine, sir.  no chance of that, really.

well, we filled out more of that phone cheat sheet than i thought we would.  i have realistic expectations.  they will probably deny me and i will have to brave seeing/talking to another doctor about my state.  can this rebalance me?  how could it not.  it’s a lottery ticket.  it’s slightly better odds than that.  better spend that last three dollars on the lotto, though.  three dollars.  my life is a clown show.  is it good?  i don’t have anything to compare it to.  it seems pretty godawful compared to how everyone else seems, but everyone else seems to have their own difficulties with things that don’t seem to bother me.  it’s a strange trade off.  don’t become homeless if you can avoid it.  it doesn’t really develop character, so much as splinter it.  i am a pile of shards now.  good luck with that.  heh thanks.

7:40 pm the list of disorders that describe me is kind of funny.  if you think tragedy is comedy.  it’s a strange thing to have to trick your own brain into doing things.  bargain, plead.  i am not as capable of controlling it as some other people are.  it’s quite a phenomenon.  be well, whatever that means for you.


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