westid

and so it begins. the final layer of the convergence is complete. a beautiful project spanning the last four years creatively inspired by the last eight are going to become the first stirrings of the following nine

future autopilots to most people as unchallenged belief in optimism, that the newness of what tomorrow might bring will wash away the empirically observed establishment of the institution. now i know what all them people feel like who had shit profiles with no pictures. it’s actually come as a surprise that my reliably keen instinct for showing off just doesn’t fire in the chemistry of the brain anymore

having mastered addiction and found unforeseen powerful senses of restraint, delayed gratification, self control … i was expecting an olympic swimming pool of oobleck waiting to take me under never to resurface … especially seeing as though they have come to consider the feed mentality as even an addictive one. but that part of my desire to interact meaningfully with others just kept leading me right back here

you couldn’t put my problems in a post, but the story’s been going on for a fair bit now. either there’s something worth being told at last … or “bargaining” is just fucking with me more than i thought it would

there must be this intrinsic passion for causes however lost, that evoke a prospect haphazard and hopeless, hinging on preparing yourself for the conclusion you have when that thing happens that makes most people turn to god because being dead wasn’t meant to feel like anything but because it does a transitive condition you can’t categorise becomes the deus ex machina that magically shocks you back into sinus rhythm – proof you went to what is beyond – but what really happened is that somethin got beyond you

i fucking hate it when they start with all the religion of a pretty well documented condition. ironically that they have all shared the world over. then i get cynical almost. then someone strikes it all the way down the register and blows the docile tedium of real life wide open – representing in its purest form good, or evil, proportionally impressive but nonlasting, unavailable, unrealistic – except to motivate me to convince myself it was real enough to enjoy for a few weeks

fuck the appointment in chronological standardisation to serve as the beginning becoming an anchor upon all values holding a referential basis relating to that from then on if any number is counted collected or stored to be the quantified metric of time. i have so many epochs so i’m just going to 555 the tragically common denominator of the “belief” until i’m incapable of having a religious regard for it anymore and ever again