Archive for ‘Uncategorized’

May 7, 2020

The 8th Floor, At This Age

Nine Years ago but in hindsight the feeling has not change, it wasn’t adulthood or age that was the problem. Toxic environments are toxic, and it does not matter how old you have become, it still can get to you. Even when the issue is no longer financial, the gargantuan weight of understanding the reality of office politics is enough to collapse your faith in living organisms. The realization that the degree of egotistic self can reach levels unfathomable to human understanding. Self determination is tertiary to the institution that is the self contained circle jerk that is the department. Illusions are created in the most unconvincing, cheap polystyrene foam and rusted wires all painted in the colour of pale neon orange. Incompetence is obvious, clear to see, bureaucratic blinders shade the easiest options. Chaos ensues, in the name of competition, in the name of who could care less. The masterfully crafted ideas of banality and stupidity, holding up the foundation of status quo. It’ll be over soon now they keep saying, but soon is a fallible concept. Time relativity only hold true to reality, a fog wall of facade does not bend to the physics of tangible senses. It will continue, if not there, then somewhere else. This is reality, this is the idea that we will never learn, that people survive by this thread of determination. A hair-thin line of demanding their wants, entitlement to the universe that they have given their fair share, that they have sacrificed enough to get what is just. Which can be debated, as the concept of just is self serving. Just in the fundamental sense only observes the subject that claims what is just to itself. It does not care if the just for it can be harmful to others, others only can claim their own just. A contestation between self determined just between actors, the winners are those with the ability to care less about others. The ego serving the id is the most powerful tool for any living organism to control and conquer.  The pinnacle of this is to reach the point where others ego can be used to serve one’s id. It is life’s highest form of rule.

April 17, 2020

Voisez VII: Cabin Fever

Suffocating becomes a habit, the fucked up thing is being aware that nothing is wrong only to be outvoted by your brain. Its been a month and changing gears has been tough. At one hand it is awesome to have something to do, but the lack of routine destroys confidence. You can’t help but feel broken, a fraud at times. You feel guilty for something that isn’t real, your guilty of a thought, an idea that the capability trusted is fake. You’ve seen this before yet you let it consume you, and it did consume you. The sweat, the choking, the at-death’s-door feeling is a sign that you might believe it. We fake it until we make it, that is a fact. And we will fake it until reality tells us different, until there is something beyond your capabilities that you cannot fake anymore. Until then, there is nothing stopping you at the moment. Breathe, excercise, take a shit, write some shit. As easy as it comes it goes. Everything is surreal now, this is the new normal. No time for self doubt. No time for waiting. No time for letting your head wander between fight or flight. You are where you need to be as always never where you want to be. A muse, a bottle of water, a sound mind, some needs are yet to be provided but this will do. This will fucking do.

August 30, 2019

On Change

Your body tightens, heart beats faster, your head filled with helium, and your stomach bloats like a corpse. Too much change is devastating, too much unspeculated factors that physically boils your body. The unknown is still a threat, no matter how far in life you are. There is no amount of experience that readies you to switch mental gears in an instant; like gears too much friction can colapse itself. There’s an idea behind your head trying to balance all of the inevitable, to keep perspective, to hold on to logic. But everything fails once the painful train of thought lunges in at full speed whipping the wind out of your sanity.

This too shall pass, as is everything, but at that moment it feels so heavy that its like trying to hold up a fridge on quicksand. But, yeah, this too shall pass as it has always been; you’ve been through this, you know this, but still it never feels familiar. How many times has change passed here? In all of life how many times has it always been for the better? The trick is to exploit change, to mold it into what you need. Because change itself only comes when it needs to be and probably now it needs to be.

It never feels familiar, despite its familiarity. The twisted joke our brain and body plays panning in and out between fight and flight between fear and indifference. I chose indifference, but they have other plans.

April 24, 2019

Voisez VI

It has been so long you forgot it physically hurts, you forgot that it is more than some mind trick, you forgot how real it feels, you forgot that even though its in your head, you still feel it. Age does not stop it. Time does not weaken it.

She helps to soften clenched screams and inflamed muscles. Calmly soothes the tight bitten tounge. Readjusts the calamity. Renders clean dissolves rusted wings.

April 16, 2018

On Freedom

In regards to free will and the luxury of choice we will always be dangling in between “I’ve got this” and “I have no fucking idea what I’m doing right now”

April 9, 2018

Voisez V

A sense of dread stuck with a brick on the gas pedal. The motion feels like sinking, constantly, waiting for confirmation yet avoiding that moment. Assumption, speculation, possibilities, hallucinations, misinterpreted feelings. Panicked by being panicked and the cycle circles into chaos. We ride around the river for a minute. I say my words, calm does not happen. Spiraling and hovering at a fixed distance, your face keeps hanging a few centimeters above the asphalt while your body keeps falling against an invisible abyss. Memories that hasn’t happened. A dejavu, a misunderstood signal of the brain chasing its electric tongue with time reminding itself to forget, emotional synesthesia. How do souls connect, how do we feel? Electric feels intense, a deep dive in the universe’s ocean of thoughts, feelings, daydreams. Even at night, daydreams are still daydreams, in a sense night is not the end of a day, just a transition — it is just transition. Rereading paragraphs, no contextual edits, no censorship, no self imagery but a self imagery hoping that no image is cool allowing tacky to thrive. We still have that. Hoping to be cool. Relevant, but in a existential sense. Relevant to the world, to stand out in an ocean of thoughts, feelings, daydreams. A blip, a speck, a nought. A realization of blood flowing back to fingertips, to tonguetips. Anticipation ends.

October 9, 2016

On Krikkit

“Imagine,” he said, “never even thinking, ‘We are alone,’ simply because it has never occurred to you to think that there’s any other way to be” -Slartibartfast

August 19, 2014

The Peace-Keeping Law

[Those who believe or act as if that they own the world] give the creatures around them a chance to grow toward whatever it’s possible for them to become.
-Daniel Quinn, 1990

July 24, 2014


Belief segregates, and ideology separates. It is the underlying root cause of the imaginary divide, a border of sorts of the humane interaction. Because a chance to love with such passion equates in hating with the same amount of passion in the general figure of probability. It is not the heat of debate nor the ruckus of disagreement, it is the idea in the back of the mind that believes an ultimate truth. While still trying to tolerating agreeing to other lesser truths he holds in his mind a superior brand. “Truth Plus”.  While not as strong as the Milk variety, the addiction is nonetheless the same — even the potentiallity to do ultraviolence more or less is the same. We are trained to believe since we were born that an ultimate truth exists. We were born to idealize a condition where this truth is adopted by all the population of this world. Paralel to this fact we are thrown in a world where everyone has been raised to think, to each their own, their own version of an ultimate truth, and beyond the seemingly agreeing nods, quietly, and certainly, the ultimate truth is safely stowed in a golden vessel; away from the noise of lesser truths. We are in a way, born — for lack of a better term — fascists, loyal to our dogmatic idealized ultimate truths, waiting for death to claim us and prove for the very last time that that idealization holds true. We even propagate, automatically, subconcsiously, the ultimate truth. Repetitively spewing the beliefs and pseudofactual claims that hold as brittle as sugarglass. We proclaim in subtext the dangers of lesser truths and how it will cause the demise of a certain era. Of time itself. That lesser truths will cause an imbalance or anger an intangible being or cause phantom psychosomatic pain. It is endless. It has been done.

January 7, 2014

Would Have, Should Have, Could Have.

I have not written for so long.

They say time mellows wisdom, where emotions ripen and forethought becomes a priority. Actually no, age has very little to do with wisdom. Those who do say that are probably people struggling to balance sanity with post-power-syndrome: the respect freaks. In my young adult life I have met many people who have aged gracefully, and even then these people are still bothered with the common ponders of “would have, should have, could have”. As with my option and chances theory, the Would Should Could (WSC) plagues the minds of the majority of the global population simply because it is a choice of future, present, and past tendencies which determine the assumption of where we will be, where we are, and where we were.

We, well some of us, spend a lot of time analysing the past and how that information will be useful for the challenges we face now and later. It is a pre-emptive liberation from uncontrolled consequences. In a way, WSC is more of an analytical tool of sorts which uses past experiences to create assumptions in which what the outcome will be for future problems/choices. It is also a double edged sword in which the analytical process becomes stuck in the cycle of a worried state: building assumptions without actually amounting into anything. The assumption is thick in fear and worry that we become afraid of the assumptions we create in our heads. We give up to the assumptions, which is illogical since it is our own voices in our heads that we fear.

It is solutive as well as entrapping at the same time. It boosts morale as well as lock us in a state of perpetual self-loathing.

We imagine a Would — imagine, not plan — of ideals and end-goals gleaming with promises, also, imagined. A future constructed in our minds as if we are highly apt soothesayers reading silver linings on clouds. A Should, as in how we imagine what to act upon the hypothethical and the scenarios playing in our heads to actual present situations. To act and to imagining to act is clearly, definitely, uncomparable. How many times we simulate a scenario in our head will never accumulate to an actual outcome, it is psychological masturbation: orgasmic yet empty; the void of body heat transfer confuses what is supposed to be, a shared experience. Lastly the Could, a retrospective view on what has been done and imagined and outcome and enjoyment and dissapointment and achievements and failures rolled up into a claylike ball, merged and blurred, warped into unfamiliar shapes as the brain continues to create pseudo memories. It is only reference, nothing more. The temptation of contemplating the retrospect on what we may think we were capable of at a particularly specific time and space. A pack mule hunting a carrot on the end of a stick.