Random consciousness stream, pre-dinner edition.
Hm, i'm having another of those weird moments.
Not really a bad thing at all. I think it was oddly triggered by actually looking at lyrics of some scream-y music, that were a lot more profound than i ever expected.
I've been living on my own for what, a year now? And i think i'm starting to realize that i've built myself so much of a shell that i seem to be trapped by it even now.
I think i've spent way too much time trying to not cause any trouble, not make myself too noticeable to avoid attracting negative attention, not get in anyone's way...
I should be free, but i'm not. I don't feel free.
It's one of those odd points in life where i get the impression that i need to break out and scream something, but that what i should be screaming is so deeply hidden that i can't even find it anymore.
Fuck computers.
That's not all of it, but it's a weird situation. I know it's like a drug to me. Not that it's intoxicating, or any of the such, it's just something to lose myself into. Not in a bad way so much, but an annoyingly effective way. I get into a different state of mind, focus so much on the machine that the living creature goes away, effectively shoved off in a corner.
Yes, it's going to be yet another of those "stream of consciousness" type of things.
I think i'd really need a break from... myself. Or something. It's hard to say.
Unknowns need to be thrown at me, to break the misshapen routine i've somehow got myself stuck into. I don't really know what to do, or how, or where, or when, or whatever.
That's part of what makes moving to BC so tempting. I'd be lost, but not really, and i'm sure that'd help me. It did years ago.
A separation also needs to happen with all the stuff i'm hoarding. Not that i don't want it, but that's the problem. I'm investing so much into keeping that stuff that i think it's really holding me back. And i hate writing this.
AND I DON'T WANT ANYONE TELLING ME WHAT TO GET RID OF, OR HOW!
It's all internal stuff, you see. It's not the thing, it's the potential. They say that as things go, openings close, you lose options and such. SO what do I do? I make sure to add more options to keep myself free. Which works out and not.
It's maintaining all those alternatives that is the problems. Stuff is just... the physical representation of such things. The actual stuff doesn't matter. If you tell me to throw something away because it's holding me back, i'll just get pissed at you. It's symbolic. And you don't know what you're messing with.
Trying to fool myself into believing i'm not done with my current job is a relative success.
I feel like i'm trying to just build the best network I can there just to have something to look back at once i'm gone, and smile at, because i'll know it'll surprise whoever works there next. If they're clever enough, that is. It's like a web of easter eggs and little notes that illustrate that part of my life, from all that insanity i've injected into it, while at the same time making it stronger.
Sometimes it almost feels like it's alive.
Which is almost fitting, when i go away, things fail. Things that never fail when i'm there. And that nobody even came close to while i was gone.
I guess that's part of what makes letting go of it so hard.
But the more things go, the more i'm looking at "what can i take with me elsewhere" more than "what should i build here." Which is an odd state of mind to be in, not a very productive one, but one that might become so.
That's one of the odd sides of not being at home. Here, i'm surrounded by strangers, living above, below, and the like. And I don't want to be 'that asshole', so by default, i try to be nice. Where at home, well, they were assholes, so i didn't feel like i had to hold back.
I haven't played music really loudly in months, if not years. People say it's growing up, I say it's being in a sucky situation. There's something powerfull in that that i can't live for too long without.
I've tried art-ing again, entirely honestly, for the first time in years. It felt odd. My other attempts were more attempts to prove to myself that i was right in not doing so, subconsciously, which were sort of true at the same time. There's a kind of "whatever" mood that i could not get into back then. It's... unfocused, but helpful.
It's something rather new to me, in a way. Doing things without so much of a purpose or a plan, seeing just how they go, in a more artistic way. I think work triggered that, mostly.
Advertising did, actually. Because it was a strange hate/love thing.
But it's a kind of goal-less creativity that's actually good, because what comes out comes out better than if it was planned.
Actually, this is rather what those post have been in the past.
Hm.
Interesting.
I feel like i should give music another try, again. Somehow. I have no idea how, why, when, where or how.
Tempted to say drums, but that might be just my desire to hit things coming to the surface. But on the other side, it might be more than that, considering just how often i've bruised my fingers on my steering wheel while listening to the radio.
Karaoke at the office party made me notice once again how different my musical universe is from anyone else's at work. It was a very strange experience.
And how scary those people are.
I don't know how scary I am. It scares me, stupidly.
I think a lot of people at work might be seeing me as a machine once again. I have no idea.
Heh... Thinking of it, i can't even tell what i look like. It's strange.
Who else has ever forgotten what they look like in a mirror?
Funny thing is, i think it didn't matter. Dragon or not, technology or not, it'd have happened one way or another. It's probably another of those things that is just a thing. Not good, not bad, just... a thing.
It fits with a lot of my life's philosophy.
The body is not who I am. That blob of thought, memories, feelings is what i am. It just all happens to be stuck in that body at the moment. Maybe one day i'll break free from it.
So many ways this might happen, all of them so out of reach tho. Still...
Strange things happen, and I'm counting on them.
This feels a lot less connected than it usually is.
Pyroscale is still on my mind. Such a mess that thing. I find myself strangely jealous and repulsed. To think that i've created that monster. Oddly, part of me still feels slightly proud, at the same time, not. I'm sure I could destroy him, but oddly, i find myself also curious... Not enough to look, but not enough to make him disappear.
Conflicting, to a huge extent.
I should probably create my own monster out of rejected thoughts. It'd be interesting. I'd probably end up loving it...
I don't believe i'd really be able to create a true monster. Just a bunch of wrong ideas twisted enough to become right, in their own strange way.
Exploring those thoughts scares me still. I guess i don't believe myself entirely. I want to, but i'm afraid of what might happen if i'm wrong.
If i did believe, i'd be convinced enough that it could not go wrong, and i would not be scared.
But there's always something that can go wrong.
Tricky.
I'm a bit annoyed at how i've twisted so many things that were wrong and twisted so much that they've became enjoyable to me. I guess they just made a complete loop around.
It would just be so much explaining to make someone get such ideas, and so much more to make them understand how they came back around.
I guess that makes me a bit lonely, in a strange way.
People becoming "mature", with well deserved quotes, suck very much. People gain an understanding of the world, causes and effects, but lose the ability to expand on those. It has to fit what they know and understand.
Becoming like that scares me, but at the same time, there's so many obvious traps, that want to make you believe but are just carefully crafted lies.
It's odd how i'd almost say thoughts are heavy, since i feel lighter writing this.
Not that thoughts are out of my mind now, they're more present than ever. Having written them down just allows me to give them that last push, to finish them and move on.
Well, not quite move on, but expand on them. Can't build up on a constantly shifting base...
I hate facebook and twitter and all the like. It's an imposed TL;DR to the society, or almost. It seems that it's just a wall full of hooks for thoughts, competing with advertising and games for a fraction of a second of your attention.
More often than not, without anything on the other side. A title with no article attached.
This is strange, i'm not in bed and i'm writing this. I'm under a blanket, I guess that counts.
I miss being able to just look around and say "I fucking built this!", i'm in a standard-ish room. Yes, my bed is made out of PVC pipes and I built it, but it was built out of need. It's acceptable, but it's not awesome.
I need awesome. It is a requirement. I want a nest again.
It's funny how both me and the roommate do have similarities. And we both have the same fallback plan of a big vehicles with stuff built into it. I have one i could do this already with, but it's not ready yet...
As i said, i want awesome. But if it came to it, i could make it my home. I would just not like it.
I'm really realizing how much little details can annoy, and how much more when you're not allowed to just fix them. I could be so much happier with much less, if it was so much more right.
If only it could be as easy to have an environment in which things can be built in the real, just like in the virtual.
I don't care if it's harder to do in the real, what i hate is that i'm not given a proper chance to try. All i get is already doomed in advance half-chances.
Or maybe it's another of those situations where i need to not care and do it, but then it gets back to the point where i'd have to live with said things.
So complicated...
Hm... I should go get dinner. I'm finally hungry again. I think i've skipped dinner monday and tuesday... I'm not sure anymore.
Yes, i'm throwing this online like that.
Not really a bad thing at all. I think it was oddly triggered by actually looking at lyrics of some scream-y music, that were a lot more profound than i ever expected.
I've been living on my own for what, a year now? And i think i'm starting to realize that i've built myself so much of a shell that i seem to be trapped by it even now.
I think i've spent way too much time trying to not cause any trouble, not make myself too noticeable to avoid attracting negative attention, not get in anyone's way...
I should be free, but i'm not. I don't feel free.
It's one of those odd points in life where i get the impression that i need to break out and scream something, but that what i should be screaming is so deeply hidden that i can't even find it anymore.
Fuck computers.
That's not all of it, but it's a weird situation. I know it's like a drug to me. Not that it's intoxicating, or any of the such, it's just something to lose myself into. Not in a bad way so much, but an annoyingly effective way. I get into a different state of mind, focus so much on the machine that the living creature goes away, effectively shoved off in a corner.
Yes, it's going to be yet another of those "stream of consciousness" type of things.
I think i'd really need a break from... myself. Or something. It's hard to say.
Unknowns need to be thrown at me, to break the misshapen routine i've somehow got myself stuck into. I don't really know what to do, or how, or where, or when, or whatever.
That's part of what makes moving to BC so tempting. I'd be lost, but not really, and i'm sure that'd help me. It did years ago.
A separation also needs to happen with all the stuff i'm hoarding. Not that i don't want it, but that's the problem. I'm investing so much into keeping that stuff that i think it's really holding me back. And i hate writing this.
AND I DON'T WANT ANYONE TELLING ME WHAT TO GET RID OF, OR HOW!
It's all internal stuff, you see. It's not the thing, it's the potential. They say that as things go, openings close, you lose options and such. SO what do I do? I make sure to add more options to keep myself free. Which works out and not.
It's maintaining all those alternatives that is the problems. Stuff is just... the physical representation of such things. The actual stuff doesn't matter. If you tell me to throw something away because it's holding me back, i'll just get pissed at you. It's symbolic. And you don't know what you're messing with.
Trying to fool myself into believing i'm not done with my current job is a relative success.
I feel like i'm trying to just build the best network I can there just to have something to look back at once i'm gone, and smile at, because i'll know it'll surprise whoever works there next. If they're clever enough, that is. It's like a web of easter eggs and little notes that illustrate that part of my life, from all that insanity i've injected into it, while at the same time making it stronger.
Sometimes it almost feels like it's alive.
Which is almost fitting, when i go away, things fail. Things that never fail when i'm there. And that nobody even came close to while i was gone.
I guess that's part of what makes letting go of it so hard.
But the more things go, the more i'm looking at "what can i take with me elsewhere" more than "what should i build here." Which is an odd state of mind to be in, not a very productive one, but one that might become so.
That's one of the odd sides of not being at home. Here, i'm surrounded by strangers, living above, below, and the like. And I don't want to be 'that asshole', so by default, i try to be nice. Where at home, well, they were assholes, so i didn't feel like i had to hold back.
I haven't played music really loudly in months, if not years. People say it's growing up, I say it's being in a sucky situation. There's something powerfull in that that i can't live for too long without.
I've tried art-ing again, entirely honestly, for the first time in years. It felt odd. My other attempts were more attempts to prove to myself that i was right in not doing so, subconsciously, which were sort of true at the same time. There's a kind of "whatever" mood that i could not get into back then. It's... unfocused, but helpful.
It's something rather new to me, in a way. Doing things without so much of a purpose or a plan, seeing just how they go, in a more artistic way. I think work triggered that, mostly.
Advertising did, actually. Because it was a strange hate/love thing.
But it's a kind of goal-less creativity that's actually good, because what comes out comes out better than if it was planned.
Actually, this is rather what those post have been in the past.
Hm.
Interesting.
I feel like i should give music another try, again. Somehow. I have no idea how, why, when, where or how.
Tempted to say drums, but that might be just my desire to hit things coming to the surface. But on the other side, it might be more than that, considering just how often i've bruised my fingers on my steering wheel while listening to the radio.
Karaoke at the office party made me notice once again how different my musical universe is from anyone else's at work. It was a very strange experience.
And how scary those people are.
I don't know how scary I am. It scares me, stupidly.
I think a lot of people at work might be seeing me as a machine once again. I have no idea.
Heh... Thinking of it, i can't even tell what i look like. It's strange.
Who else has ever forgotten what they look like in a mirror?
Funny thing is, i think it didn't matter. Dragon or not, technology or not, it'd have happened one way or another. It's probably another of those things that is just a thing. Not good, not bad, just... a thing.
It fits with a lot of my life's philosophy.
The body is not who I am. That blob of thought, memories, feelings is what i am. It just all happens to be stuck in that body at the moment. Maybe one day i'll break free from it.
So many ways this might happen, all of them so out of reach tho. Still...
Strange things happen, and I'm counting on them.
This feels a lot less connected than it usually is.
Pyroscale is still on my mind. Such a mess that thing. I find myself strangely jealous and repulsed. To think that i've created that monster. Oddly, part of me still feels slightly proud, at the same time, not. I'm sure I could destroy him, but oddly, i find myself also curious... Not enough to look, but not enough to make him disappear.
Conflicting, to a huge extent.
I should probably create my own monster out of rejected thoughts. It'd be interesting. I'd probably end up loving it...
I don't believe i'd really be able to create a true monster. Just a bunch of wrong ideas twisted enough to become right, in their own strange way.
Exploring those thoughts scares me still. I guess i don't believe myself entirely. I want to, but i'm afraid of what might happen if i'm wrong.
If i did believe, i'd be convinced enough that it could not go wrong, and i would not be scared.
But there's always something that can go wrong.
Tricky.
I'm a bit annoyed at how i've twisted so many things that were wrong and twisted so much that they've became enjoyable to me. I guess they just made a complete loop around.
It would just be so much explaining to make someone get such ideas, and so much more to make them understand how they came back around.
I guess that makes me a bit lonely, in a strange way.
People becoming "mature", with well deserved quotes, suck very much. People gain an understanding of the world, causes and effects, but lose the ability to expand on those. It has to fit what they know and understand.
Becoming like that scares me, but at the same time, there's so many obvious traps, that want to make you believe but are just carefully crafted lies.
It's odd how i'd almost say thoughts are heavy, since i feel lighter writing this.
Not that thoughts are out of my mind now, they're more present than ever. Having written them down just allows me to give them that last push, to finish them and move on.
Well, not quite move on, but expand on them. Can't build up on a constantly shifting base...
I hate facebook and twitter and all the like. It's an imposed TL;DR to the society, or almost. It seems that it's just a wall full of hooks for thoughts, competing with advertising and games for a fraction of a second of your attention.
More often than not, without anything on the other side. A title with no article attached.
This is strange, i'm not in bed and i'm writing this. I'm under a blanket, I guess that counts.
I miss being able to just look around and say "I fucking built this!", i'm in a standard-ish room. Yes, my bed is made out of PVC pipes and I built it, but it was built out of need. It's acceptable, but it's not awesome.
I need awesome. It is a requirement. I want a nest again.
It's funny how both me and the roommate do have similarities. And we both have the same fallback plan of a big vehicles with stuff built into it. I have one i could do this already with, but it's not ready yet...
As i said, i want awesome. But if it came to it, i could make it my home. I would just not like it.
I'm really realizing how much little details can annoy, and how much more when you're not allowed to just fix them. I could be so much happier with much less, if it was so much more right.
If only it could be as easy to have an environment in which things can be built in the real, just like in the virtual.
I don't care if it's harder to do in the real, what i hate is that i'm not given a proper chance to try. All i get is already doomed in advance half-chances.
Or maybe it's another of those situations where i need to not care and do it, but then it gets back to the point where i'd have to live with said things.
So complicated...
Hm... I should go get dinner. I'm finally hungry again. I think i've skipped dinner monday and tuesday... I'm not sure anymore.
Yes, i'm throwing this online like that.