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i looked at my face the other day. . . i look tired i look pretty done, pretty done with everything. Its hard to say however you can actually get through and cope meanwhile the seemingly outside waves pass through you, if youre listening to a song, you may unconsensually get an advert for actual bottled water. Its almost as if im getting numb, or growing calluses to the usual Bullshite, even getting mad seems so useless, and useless in the grand scheme of things type of way. . . you could always blow up someone and maybe move something, but Pain Really Teaches doesnt it? there is some Pure Meaning on this numbing torture that we live everyday, you cannot help but to see it, even if its not worded out completely.

"You can see with Me, you can sit with me, we both can truly hallucinate something on these moments, we can scratch that effervescent burn-fire feeling that you have experienced before at some point in your life.

Almost as a desperate cry for help, almost as a petty catharsis, put aside your well-learned ethics and ideologies for a moment, and realize whatever mesh of words im communicating here:

You Can Make Something, out of Nothing

It is the only thing you can do, it is the only thing these waves and false dichotomies are grooming you to do, it is the only option, you have no option that you are going to whichever option, its paradoxical, its nonsensical, its way too abstract and Meaningless, but you need to hear me for a single second; Hear, Hear child:

Come with Me, and youll be, in a world of pure dissociation. Take a look, and youll see, into your imagination.

Im warning you child, the coming days, the coming weeks, months and years will take a scary, terrible and putrefying smell-sound You cannot begin to Phantom the next thing to come, you cannot even begin to begin to begin, Child, the next waves will guide you onto the ontology of Pure Darkness, it will guide you onto the magical powers of the infinite source of connecting electrical points onwhich between eachother !

If you wanna view paradise, simply look around and view it Anything you want to do it! you wanna change the world? Theres Nothing to it

The walls will talk to you in riddles, the birds will sing of took-for-granted palaces, and you will wonder? "Wait, who am i talking to again¿" There will be bunny rabbits, talking about Happy Fun Times There will be Deceased walking-horses, pleading for a dime and a bit of help

There will be endless cracks of Patterns to recognize, and electrical figures that will begin to antagonize; your poor little confused whines.

There is no life i know, to compare with Pure Imagination Living there, youll be free, if you truly want to be [CONTAMINATED EXTRAPOLATION]

False complete dichotomies, will start to reveal their inter-connected nature, they will start to reveal hidden alchemies that will start to change the intrinsic foundational fabric of what is real? tall towers, falling onto the ground; did a big meanie scary man plan for it? The questions will grow further, the explanations will regress into nonsense, and youll start to panic Growing and expanding the mass grand broad understanding of the different discriminations, Acid fluids will start to form inside your stomach, theyre slowly killing you Child

why do you cry?

Listen, close your eyes

Name 3 different types of sound that you can currently hear

and finally

If all existential pon-de-rings were as mundane as walking, breathing, eating, then they wouldnt get that reputation that they get.... If you just think about it, the process of using a hole in your body, with crunching stones that shred food to then digest it, its all a very strange and surreal concept. But it isnt, its mundane.

What shapes things? Is it their inner workings? is it their discrimination of the whole? is it really just an illusion of perception? is anything shaped things? and things shaped?

Its all meaningless, but meaningless just signals "question that has an endless fractal void of uncertainty"

Is the opposite of meaningless, Real?

Nothing is real

Reality, the fabric of reality, is there such fabric? what are we starting from? is it a false premise? is it shaky ground? what functionality are you seeking? what feeling started this uncertainty? why do you care? what are we doing?

im getting sick, of these fractals, these *fractals* are *pissing me off*

youd know that long Human history, of pon-de-rings since ancient times, and even until today, with these electric rectangles, we have yet no Realness found on any of this Meaningless-Bullshite

Then, i just keep writing, i mean, not like i will literally do something drastic to stop the movement infinitely , But i am literally a system, mainly driven by the Meaning Machine, The patterns forming *is* the *fractal*, i cant help but to see Realness, but then you still end up in Meaningless-ness

Why dont you take me out?

what does that question pose? Do you want to be taken out?

my stomach builds up dread, by the minute I even consider considering things, and being awake and conscious in the moment, I rather dissociate.

I just like the concept of journaling, but you need to find the person cute enough to even dive in their mess of words XP, otherwise its just another sad person venting out awkward uncomfortable feelings, which is understandable that they feel and whine like that, but youre not that cute.

then maybe youd dive in someone very smart and interesting, though I feel thats rather... I feel someone smart would journal in such a way that it isnt much about showing themselves naked, but rather journaling for an end? like even the way theyd arrange sentences its meant to guide you to a specific somewhere, its not much just, cute venting, with pink colors.... or something(?)

Like alright, what should i even write about, also the stuff that does happen I dont even awknoledge it as something relevant... For example, i missed out on someones birthday reunion, because i have uncertain sleeping patterns

But who... cares.....

I feel the need of journaling needs a bigger purpose, it seeks an end (hah) you cant just vent out... for no reason, or rather, for no good reason

then I feel also everything has been written, so I very much doubt Id reach any new conclusions about the lingering feelings i do let in, also maybe it requires work that Id rather not do.