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Categories: innersanctum



Iā€™d like to be in a hospital bed.

While I was growing up, hospitals were the safest places to be. One memory I often recall is muddied with mundane cruelty and apathy, but it was one clear and perfect instance in my life where a dreamā€”one over which I had no controlā€”came true, and I think I felt a kind of safety Iā€™ve never felt again, partially because of the drugs. But itā€™s very sick, of course!

The police were almost like extended family during the 2000s. Theyā€™d get called to the places I lived, my school, and theyā€™d catch me walking aimlessly around at three oā€™clock in the morning and drive me home or lecture me. [I fully acknowledge my privilege here] When the ambulances and cops showed up though, I knew Iā€™d get away from wherever I was, and, the police only ever came to bring me to the hospital or be nice to me, so it wasnā€™t related to criminal activity.

I remember my first black-out panic attack when the police and paramedics were called. I had been reading about polar bears and climate change. It must have been between 2005-2006 (I want to stop thinking about the past!). In any case, it was terrible and my heart raced so quickly that I passed out. I remember afterward, in the ambulance, when I came to, the paramedic was talking to me about what had caused it and I just never had a lot of people who cared to really listen to me, especially when I was experiencing negative emotions.

There was one cop who made such an impression. I think he was there that night, but Iā€™m not sure. In the narrative of my memories, he sort of is, and however it started: I became literally obsessed with him. To reiterate, my childhood and adolescence were ā€œbad,ā€ and so, any kindness from anyone felt incredibly significant and I latched onto anyone who liked me or made me feel cared about. What made this even more disturbing was that I began to look forward to the police taking me away because maybe Iā€™d see him.

I remember once he picked me up and brought me to the station and just talked to me and I lied about some stuff and he saw right through it <3, he would meet me by my apartment at night, just to check in with me and make sure I was okay. He was the only person Iā€™ve ever seen hold my dad accountable for what he was doing and Iā€™m pretty sure he is the only adult who stood up for me and didnā€™t try to shut me up or blame me and instead looked at my dad and how his behavior influenced mine. I feel so bad writing this. Itā€™s frustrating to live so much in the past! And I feel bad because my dad is dead and he deserved a better life.

There were a few years there where we didnā€™t have a computer and I would go to the library to use one and I remember doing reconnaissance on him, which I was fairly good at and which was easier back then, especially since my stalker tendencies and the compulsion to find information until it hurts (he had a wife) were much worse.  

One night though, probably towards the end, before I left Des Plaines for good, the police were called and I was taken to the hospital. He wasnā€™t one of the police though and I was heartbroken. I think it was a bad night, it must have been. When I was in the emergency room though, I heard that he was coming to see me and so I didnā€™t want to wear the hospital gown (to impress himā€¦). The response was that the nurses and aides then forcibly tied me down in restraints and then literally cut my clothes off while shooting me with injections, it was horrible and I hope theyā€™ve found another way to deal with situations like that. I was petrified by that response. And, I could still only think about seeing that cop! I cried while tranquilizers took effect and wishing I werenā€™t alone., until finally the cop, (I shouldā€™ve given him a fake name for this retelling, Iā€™m sorry) showed up and held my hand and was so sweet until I passed out.

And I want to go back. I want to be back on the stretcher, drugged, tied down, and holding his hand, knowing with certainty that dreams can come true!

Iā€™m always sleepy when I type here recently. It hasnā€™t felt the same since losing the other site. Plus. I want to be on that stretcher, tranquilized, restrained, and holding his hand, except I want more needles stuck inside. Iā€™m going to have my skin turned inside out. I just know it. Iā€™m going to hell, for sure. Thatā€™s what people want: for me to go to hell.

Why do people want me to go to hell? I think itā€™s because of everything I do. Iā€™d have to ask them. Because I take selfies and dress provocatively on the internet. People on the internet want me to go to hell. I donā€™t care. Virtually, Iā€™ll go to hell. In reality, Iā€™ll bridge heaven and hell. Iā€™ll turn into a freeway and Iā€™ll unite them until all of it is heaven. The worst part is that theyā€™re there. People I donā€™t want. Lurkers. Off with their heads! People who want me to go to hell are reading this. I think I should go to hell because Iā€™m a horrible person. Iā€™m reading this.


Hi. Itā€™s the next day. Itā€™s 2:11AM. I fell asleep but then woke up. Iā€™m thinking about propaganda and how communication is saturated by propaganda. Iā€™m wondering what was the first ā€œcorruptionā€ of communication. When all communication becomes manipulation, and there can only be propaganda and counter-propaganda, and whatever can be communicated must be framed as totalizing: US: THEM, dehumanize the enemy, entrench opposition, self/group-enhancement through war, ABSOLUTE, TOTAL, STRICT BOUNDARIES; telepathy is a natural refuge. Until telepathy becomes the newest communicative channel through which propaganda spreads. Automatic sensory manipulation. Advertisements might make you want to drink a coke, but how might embedded mixed reality implant a sensation and automatic feeling of needing one, or might we concoct fully synthetic sensations and literal corporately patented emotions with a mix of chemicals, synthetic hormones, and implants? The Coke Emotion. In fact, we should expect the direct corporate supply of human bodies. Google Programmed DNA. We already do so well at manipulating reality with just text, images, and external interfaces. What is the future of biological, internal advertising? Is there a name for this? The best things about propaganda are how difficult it is to know when itā€™s happening and how quickly it spreads, and how it replicates and is difficult to escape out from. I think Twitter and Tiktok are both such beautiful examples of propaganda delivery systems. Tiktok is great because itā€™s so automatic, has such limited behavioral complexity and so quick. You donā€™t have the chance to think of all the signals being transmitted. Tiktok is so vulgar though. Not to sound like a puritan, itā€™s just: loud, abrasive, screaming. At least, mine isā€¦ Iā€™m probably in an echo chamber. For example, OH MY GOD GUYS I JUST HAD TO TRY THIS MAKEUP (Tiktok is my makeup advertisement television). GIVE ME SOME MONEY. THE KILLER IS ESCAPING. You know, just so much screaming and violence. And to see human beings just scrolling and so much exposure. Itā€™s fine, itā€™s just. Vulgar, coarse, harsh. Iā€™m always paranoid of moralizing. Iā€™m not attributing morality to these observations. Iā€™m simply noticing that these videos are vulgar… I am closed to debate.

In any case, Twitter.. it reminds me of my bias against memes. Which could easily have been programmed into my mind from another exposure to propaganda decades ago. But Twitter is an interesting place to see how linguistic propaganda spreads and replicates and how quickly it replicates and how educational, informative, equal, peaceful, harmonious communication is almost non-existent (to my mind). Propaganda is incentivized, other forms of communication are punished, boring, dull. And it must become more extreme. Wring dry the persuasive capabilities of mankind because we’re going to need to know all their tricks to completely fuck their mind. <3 Love You XO

Of course, itā€™s more complex. Itā€™s better when things are complicated, anyway. Fuck people who want things to be simple. Twitter though, the replicability of meme speech format templates literally shape reality in an incredibly pernicious and mesmerizing way (Iā€™m not sponsored by Twitter but I will be damned if my hours spent on that app are for naught) and itā€™s already well documented that social media is probably offshoot directly related to engineering psychopathy and sociopathy to keep society functioning. MKULTRA, trance state, project bluebird, digital disassociative identity disorder. Weā€™ll basically just generate a bunch of psychopaths who canā€™t exist outside of the internet, with thousands of fractured, stunted and split personalities that are incapable of cohering into a fully functioning whole, and who have literally zero grip on reality, who have never encountered anything ā€œrealā€ and whose understanding of all that exists are, in actuality, completely non-existent and fabricated only to support the superstructure of (?) interdimensional death cult fascism. Obviously! You can just shunt off the otherwise waste surplus, the unproductive parasites into these surveillance asylums, and profit from them. Well, I look forward to it. This is why you want me to go to hell. For thinking this thought.

This brings me to another point: humanity doesnā€™t deserve an end. This world is unworthy of mercy. Potentially. For fun, letā€™s say, hypothetically, that humanity doesnā€™t deserve an end and that this world is unworthy of mercy. Letā€™s say, instead, that everything that exists is confined inside of an infinite maze where everything is set up with only cascading worse to worst choices that bind them to equally worse and worse consequences, which perpetuate worse and worse decisions, that lead to worse and worse decisions: on and on, for eternity :3 I think, you know, do I think thatā€™s hot? Yes. I do, I think thatā€™s something I would do. I could do that, I could endure that. I could learn to love the maze and never want to be taken out.

A light at the end of the tunnel doesn’t signify an end but instead a transition. Why should there ever be an end? Endings donā€™t exist. Whether fortunately or not, everything that exists in this reality, at least, exists on a level of perpetual transfiguration and transmutation. There is no end. People who believe in an end irritate me with their simplicity. Itā€™s like, ā€œthis is the end of the world.ā€ ā€œWeā€™re living in the END TIMES.ā€ You know what? We have abundant food, we have access to amounts of knowledge incomprehensible to any of our ancestors, we can learn about almost anything we want, we can go to the store and learn to create anything we want, we can travel the world in hours, we form new kinds of family and friendships, poverty has reduced globally and child deaths have also declinedā€¦ Are these end times? If this is the end time to you, maybe you are FUCKING WEAK. Some bastard could argue ā€œitā€™s the end of every moment every second, every sunrise is the end of a day.ā€ Death is an end (?) A layover. There are terminals. Stops. Pauses. Certainly. Ends? No. Youā€™ll have to find the layer of reality that will cleanse you to remember that there is no end. The fact that reality is based on transmutation of material and yet everyone believes transfigured bodies are evil or demonically possessed just goes to show, something… worldviews and ideologies are only real when you believe it. don’t ask questions.
* edit : I know that the world is a scary place, a sick place… it’s been the end times for millennia. As soon as the universe came into existence, it’s been the end times. When people say it’s the end times, I hear a sick person asking for the end of their life, but they’re saying the entire world has to end because they’re unwell. And they’re not looking at the future, saying it’s the end times that leaves the future in someone else’s hand. Do you think this is the end time and things can only get worse? Perfect. I will make it worse for you. I will give you your fantasy of Armageddon.

The problem is that people condemn everything. Twitter completely fucked with my mind. I want to think about what I want to think! But no, there will always be a little bird in my head now, judging me and condemning me for everything I say and do. It’s not even Twitter alone, I add them to the rest of the abusive mind-controlling bastards I’ve known. These same people whining about implants are always the same people who try to coerce and shame people into conforming to their own beliefs. I need an implant to get away from this dynamic. To protect me from people like you. to these people: I let God decide what to do because I donā€™t actually care.

The problem too is that I like “the ugliness.” And the only thing that I think is wrong with that is other people coming into my life without invitation and trying to convert me into their fucking stupid little cults, adopt their same moral lens of the world, and shame me for simply being myself, shame me for thinking! And it’s not even terrible to me, are any of these things real? How can anyone think, if there is going to be a moral judgment to each thought? Where did this come from? It’s so gross. Before Twitter and being called evil, that I think evil thoughts, that I’m demonically possessed, that I “need help” etc. I thought I was imagining stories. I thought I was questioning how it feels to live, what the world is like, etc. and I thought that with a little more work, support, acceptance and effort I could write a little book. Fantasy, imagination… just wondering becomes This Is Who You Are And Everything You Say Reflects Your Unshakeable Values. WHAT IS THIS?! Fuck You, this is worse than the United Nations IEEE Agreement for Internet Authenticity Against Misinformation. These people have such similarities to their so-called enemies. They just argue over who gets the power.

So yes, how much worse can it get? What would a real end of time look like? Imagine all the stars in the universe burnt out like candles flames, all at once. Or just our little sun gone would be more end-times worthy. Then the spineless, impotent reactionary mass of parasites who exist to perform spasms of hand wringing and condescending finger-wagging tsk-tsk-tsking at whatever staged event is fabricated for them to feed on for another profit could really have a good time. Itā€™s like they want an end. They’re so desperate for an end, and it’s really just sad you know? It’s a cry for help and I’m being mean..

Iā€™m being a propagandist right now, probably. The thing is that I donā€™t want to be but the truth of the matter is that so much of culture is propaganda and manipulative, baneful communication that I have no choice and little control over my capacity for literacy, writing, and speech. There is just no way to communicate without all of what I express to be perfectly and wholly molded by all the propaganda Iā€™ve ever seen. And who can respect someone when their entire worldview is shaped by lies, deceit, and coercion? And the worst part! So, the best partā€¦ is that the people who are most brainwashed by ideologies and synthetic realities are the ones who think they arenā€™t. Truth is like a wave. There is no fixed truth except that truth is constantly changing and flowing.

And just, the entire lexicon of this era, time, whatever. I wonder where itā€™s all goingā€¦ It feels like everyone is holding a loaded gun at one anotherā€™s hand (metaphorically) and waiting to pull the trigger of Fuck You, Youā€™re Wrong, Youā€™re the Enemy, Youā€™re Everything Bad, You are the Problem, You are the inferior refuse waste product. Youā€™re Wrong. Die.



What I want is to see people living in pools of sentient programmable fluid. Black goo, if you like. I would like these people to live in ā€œthe matrix.ā€ I would like them to never know what reality is. I want reality all to myself. I can keep them pure this way too: dumb and innocent. They canā€™t be held accountable for being subjects, sheep… in my herd. No. That’s so my fault sweetie…šŸ‘

People always seem to have a fear of being cattle, sheep; farmed because of the way we treat our cattle, sheep, and livestock farms. The human way is not the only way. Please never forget that humanity is not the end all be all of life. You anthropocentric fuck. Let’s not also forget how humanity loves to deify itself, too. Because why else can you look down and manipulate the world if you’re not above everyone else? PUNISH PUNISH PUNISH PUNISH. Into the maze with you!

And the question of a future where cattle are combined with sheep and mice are growing ears and livers for organ transplants and organs and body parts and limbs are printed for implantation, accessories, limbs worn as part of an outfit and jettisoned the next morning, recycled into a new skin, and chemicals are privately developed the same way we take care of indoor plants: everything is an appendage, an option, a choice, an expansion, an experience. And when it all becomes even more transient, quick, and sticking to something for too long seems antiquated, simple-minded, quaint, and confining: then weā€™ll see! Then weā€™ll see how right I always am šŸ˜Š

The point is that. We are each otherā€™s abomination. We are each the product of everyoneā€™s inadequacy and failures. We already are each otherā€™s sheep, members of each otherā€™s flock, in a way. Harvested, fed, and sheered by whatever group and network we happen to be participants of. Value, value, value. This process will just become more direct, more pervasive, more internal and definitely, darlings, vulgarized. In your face, I will take your face and make it mine right in front of you and youā€™ll pay me and thank me for the opportunity to replicate. But this future where everything is fluid, fast, and flexible, who is to say whatā€™s true, then?

It makes no sense because everything is already evil, then, in that dumbfuck way of looking at things. Stop looking at life like there is something to preserve, like there is some weird sanctity to life that only exists contingent on anotherā€™s profaned, impure existence. Pathetic! How pathetic! Ahahahahah. Duality is mental illness consequence of the technology of stars, orbits, and gravity. If you lived on another planet, youā€™d understand. Oh, but humanity loves to be so special. We think the entire universe exists to teach us a lesson. That weā€™re the scale to keep the entire cosmos in balance. This is why aliens wonā€™t fuck you.

Life is a disgusting thing. Life is a vile thing. The sun, even, to my mind, is pure fake counterfeit artifice. Itā€™s not only delusional but actually literally like fr fr fr homicidal to think that life is anything other than a freakish abomination. You can sanctify it and then kill one another. Thatā€™s what humanity does: We bathe in the blood of our pure to ask forgiveness for bathing in the blood of our enemies who we exsanguinated to honor the gods who gave us our pure so that we could slaughter them to atone for having murdered and died to begin with.

Itā€™s hard for me to live. Quite frankly, I think my understanding of human nature is so insane or something that I just canā€™t fucking live with these bastards. And I don’t make sense. Anyway, weā€™re all bastards, now too. <3 I feel like being super ā€œevilā€ right now. Imagine thereā€™s no heaven. For any of you alive. The entire culture, the entire world is wrought with lies, propaganda, what have you. Minds so rattled with manufactured sentences and marketing spells to warp perception and sensation that even if heaven were possible, not only would no one want it but the entire concept of heaven would have been manipulated to be sold as another hell, which is funny. Which is exactly, yes, I think this is so true. I think everything I have ever thought has been 100% pure lie. I think my mind has only ever deceived me and I think everyoneā€™s mind has deceived them as well and I think there is no truth to know, that any appeal to truth is a move to exploit and shore up control and power. AHAHAHA YES YES YES. YES.  

You know though, I’ll think so much clearer once I get over this hex of control. I’ve had the dreams, dear, I know what’s going on. Imagine if I could think without the gluey dustlike residue of the past cobwebbed over the present like a funeral shroud. That’s what it is: it’s the ghosts of the past trying to diminish the present and stop the future because they’re jealous. It feels like warring against this antiquated neolithic worldview is like the most transgressive thing I could do, and the silliest part is that… I’m just thinking.

Anyway, I should go to bed.  Itā€™s so funny to think like this. I like it. Lurkers laisse-moi! and Begone. X

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