< - ix


this page was created on february twenty-eighth

february 7th

i am very glad that ublock origin exists, because logging onto tumblr on a
computer that doesn't have it still risks immediately ruining my day genuinely

february 22nd

i am not crazy about a lot of stuff the internet exposed me to starting around age nine or ten. & how
secret i tried to keep my internet usage from everyone, for many years after, nearly a decade maybe

the feeling that i am looking at very scandalous things which no one would want me to be using the computer to look at.
but, lacking perspective, i don't realize how actually "scandalous" it is that i am around ten, looking at what i am looking
at. it is like an adult sense of scandal that i am regarding with a childlike sense of scandal, albeit one i take very seriously

the feeling of a sort of division arising between me & the people i live with, as i acquire a state of having seen
these things, a state which is ideally secret, & sort of abnormal, sort of ugly, something i don't fully grasp

this is how a protracted obsessive division arises around maintaining a very sharp divide between
my empty "real life" presence & my concealed "online" presence, which i regard as more real

but what would it have really meant, if that barrier had been broken? nothing truly productive could have come of it. the fact
of the matter was that i lived with a family of incredibly stupid people, immersed in shallow cultural norms, who could not
have been remotely prepared to account for the rising presence of the internet as a variable in the life of their youngest
family member. i don't think a single one of them would have barred me from all of this content in line with any actual
moral code that they had ever articulated to themselves, they would have just been emptily parroting vague
notions of what a child is & is not supposed to like at... very reasonable notions, but still

regrouping back at the central topic: yes, i had a lot of unquestioning exposure to very strange things, & i did
not want anyone to know i had been exposed to them. if nothing else, i understood that aim of hiding it all

it was very gnarly content. even synopses of it would be very gnarly. gore, extreme "shock site" type pornography,
"copypasta," & people on the newgrounds forums, especially this one guy (K.B.), writing these awful, extreme,
violent, fetishistic stories just for the sake of being gross. i am not sure what compelled me to march
through these, taking in one after another, but there was a clear drive to, certainly

i've wondered for a while if this all had a substantial negative effect on my childhood social
relationships in general, & whether that hindrance of engagement might carry into problems today

with parents, for instance: setting aside what insufficiences they might display as parents, there is still a tendency to
unfetteredly view those people as guardians, within the unaffected system of reasoning that one operates on as a child

if you read something like that, there is a kind of transition from that, to... well, a lot of disturbing physical potentialities
now exist in your head. potentialities which aren't realized, which never come within a hundred miles of being realized,
& which you don't anticipate ever being realized. but things can be conceived of that could not have been prior.
& something is just different because of that, i guess. nothing happens happens, but there is something about
e.g. confronting incest taboos at such a young age, with such graphic presentation, on one's own

once your head contains the prosaically-described template of, i don't know, (to whip up a genuinely tame example here), someone
sodomizing a cat's eye or something, you can envision anyone you interact with doing that. maybe without even feeling particularly
inclined to put it out of mind, because you don't sufficiently regard it as totally hideous, because it's too early in life to fit into
a framework that establishes it as hideous. it's just there. & it's not like you go around envisioning this stuff all the
, but, an upbringing where it's possible to just seems decisively different from one where it's not at all

april 1st

there's a slant in my bangs that seems to stay there no matter how many times i try to gently trim them to be level.
often i can see the slant in my webcam preview, but not in my mirror. every time i trim them, i cease to see
the slant for several minutes, then it reappears. i can't keep going at this without making them shorter
& shorter. i just want relief. it's all i've been thinking about for at least half an hour

april 7th

if you're capable of feeling awed & delighted by the human capacities for love & creativity, i
implore you to cherish that feeling. i would desperately like to feel it, but my capacity to
feel it seems completely gummed up with irremediable overthought & learned detachment

i think there are lots of people who have been subsumed by cynicism, & i think an aspect of being subsumed
by cynicism is that one no longer feels that feeling, nor do they care anymore whether they feel it. i don't
think i am subsumed by cynicism. i see the feeling as an intense necessity, something unspeakably
good & pure, & naturally that is why i feel so pained by my seeming incapacity to feel it

in my heart i feel like the most hypothetically awestruck person you'll ever
ever see, only perversely non-awestruck in reality, manifesting as a
baffling inversion of myself. somehow, somehow, i feel nothing

april 16th

i don't make sense

i don't mean that my expressions are necessarily incoherent, but that as a human being i just feel that i don't make
any sense. my life has not been populated with enough contextualizing events for me to make any sense. my
evolution as a social being across most of my lifespan now has been a kind of autodidactic evolution of habits
in my usage of computers, & i guess insular wrestling with various philosophical positions hardly rooted in
any surrounding life context that would provide a context & meaning to the engagement with them

i have generally been alone for a very long time. i feel as if, whenever i do miraculously find myself
in the company of people i'm really comfortable with, i clearly & immediately remember the
value of engaging with people, the natural delight of it that doesn't need any justification

but when i go back to being alone, i... it's like i still make efforts to socialize, but it's all so mediated that i'm not prone to
directly remember the motivation anymore, that fun which needs no justification or explanation. i follow it only like some
half-remembered general directive, as if on blind faith or out of habit. i don't know why i'm doing what i'm doing. i do
not want to become close to anyone for fear that they put their own emotional stake in, for instance, what i think
of them, & i find myself too internally insubstantial to report that state, or too unfamiliar with myself

i want to take my brain out of my skull & soak it in bleach for an hour or two, or zap it like frying
a hard drive. i feel a yearning to be "reset." i want to cancel out all of my "momentums" & let new
ones stochastically form & replace them, i want to demolish my paltry self which has coagulated so
awkwardly out of all sorts of detritus & let something else form from scratch in the blank space

i am tired of being supplied with means for being a public entity while i don't make any sense.
i want to be private. i want to live in private, wholly alone, like a hermit if need be, so that
all my momentums can rot away & something entirely alien can begin to grow in their place

the greatest thing, to an unspeakable degree, might be a human being as an animal which means no harm lying their head on a pillow
& listening to birdsong, accompanied unawares by the unconsciously recognized comfort of having no basis for being despised

without any guilty conscience to psychically fracture the simplicity of the moment into a root
system of tangled & anfractuous considerations. able to care & love without any sense of the
resulting positive self-perception necessarily being a product of cognitive dissonance
on some level - such a perverse abstract addition to that care & love

the protocol for a guilty conscience would be to cease, atone, then, if all others' resultant feelings dissolve, permission is granted
to ideally forget & to again be an unassuming animal who means no harm - like a thing who themselves possesses the same
existential flavor as the love they might express, or at least isn't too dissimilar. a thing whose mouth the words belong in

cessation is a problem when it becomes unclear what exactly to cease, when the line separating benign activity from abstract
transgressions in some sector of activity blurs to the extent that the edges seem to wrap around to meet each other,
all benign or benevolent acts simultaneously crimes, all crimes simultaneously benevolent or benign acts

what do you do? cease everything? radically remove yourself from a substantial amount of what you know, so
as to leave no chance of any trace of crime? burn down the entire stage on which any crime might occur?

a hole which you are dug deeper into each time a synapse in your brain fires, even if the synapse
firing is a fraction of a thought which might constitute a fraction of a line of reasoning
which might constitute a fraction of a potential plan for getting out of the hole

there was a time when i was a very very despondent teenager & viewed myself as a tragically thorough inversion of the
child i felt i had once been. i would frantically post things as on-the-nose-antithetical to my current principles as, like,
"innocence cannot conceivably exist," or a paragraph consisting only of a long string of words for negative conditions

in 2020 something clicked into place & i experienced a blissful period that even at the time i regarded as something like the
miraculous gift of an additional period of childhood, & in this time i feel that i sorted out all the confusion & despondency
i had felt before. i grew in touch with fair standards for my expression & for what i voluntarily expose myself to. i removed
the self-conscious mental blocks that had strictly kept me from embracing the principles i had longed to embrace for so
long. i had the very fundamental & pivotal realization of innocence being a continually inhabitable state, a behavior

now i am indisputably doing better than that teenage phase, but i do feel like i have significantly destabilized again relative
to that second childhood, like a far milder version of the profoundly nightmarish sense of destabilization i felt as a teen

i feel that i have not done that period justice. on the justification of its readily apparent
merits, it posed itself as something to live by, to honor, to keep in line with, to not see
disgraced by my subsequent living. i want to honor it, i really do, but i haven't

april 23rd

it sure does suck how every sardonic dismissal of another human being that has ever been expressed has been totally
invalid, regardless of context. cause sardonic dismissals are a really useful tool for quickly relieving the kind of
psychological pressure that can build up from others' rudeness or thoughtlessness. you can't actually validly
say them, though, due to every person being unavoidably being as specific, complex, & irreducible as any other,
no matter how rude, thoughtless, or shallow they may appear. so like, when a person is super super obnoxious,
you can't actually sardonically reduce them & move on so as to make peace with it, & have to just grapple
with it as an equally valid & complicated being expressing things on the exact same singular level of
expression as anything you yourself could ever say. even if it's sooooo annoying & weird & dumb! man,
that sucks. ohh man that'd be so easy if everyone could just be sardonic but we can't, darn!!! darn!!!

april 29th

i feel like i am currently in the dead of winter, spiritually, specifically as opposed to a spring. i am being kind of a social recluse
even in the online sphere. i feel uncreative & numbed in conversation even with the people closest to me. my conscience
feels burdened a lot & it dissociates me from the simplicity i could occupy if i didn't feel like i was doing or had done
anything wrong. i feel double-colonized by metastasized outgrowths of all that had colonized me prior. my internal
self-criticism has metamorphosed into the form of an imaginary discord server where people make fun of me