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57-2024-12-20
“May everything come true. May they believe. And may they laugh at their passions. For what they call passion is not really the energy of the soul, but merely friction between the soul and the outside world. But, above all, may they believe in themselves and become as helpless as children. For softness is great and strength is worthless. When a man is born, he is soft and pliable. When he dies, he is strong and hard. When a tree grows, it is soft and pliable. But when it's dry and hard, it dies. Hardness and strength are death's companions. Flexibility and softness are the embodiment of life. That which has become hard shall not triumph.”
— "Stalker" (1979), by Andrei Tarkovsky
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57-2024-12-19
Fuckin' worthless imbeciles.
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57-2024-09-11
A side effect of life experience — you can't even get angry anymore, it just turns directly into apathy as you are sick of everyone's bullshit already.
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57-2024-09-10
You know, a coffin is another fine and private place, a quite comfortable one too. So what are you waiting for? Go ahead, lock that door and just shoot yourself already.
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57-2024-06-08
Doing my best to offend everyone I can't stand.
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57-2024-06-01
“For what is apparent external security when there is all this life and death extremity in one's innermost being?
. . .
My dear boy, we shall survive it! And then it will be one power more in us, and our heart shall have grown more mighty through it and all that we can feel more holy and more pure and more obligating.”
— Rainer Maria Rilke, Letter to Thankmar von Münchhausen (September 17, 1914)
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57-2024-05-29
Couldn't even tell my happening and yet claiming they know me better than I'll ever know myself. . . Alright then. It's like I've never sang to you.
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57-2024-05-29-2
Following up... uhm... yeah, creating emotions so you can feel like you are feeling something as in fact you are completely fucking dead inside!
^ - ^
Oh yeah? You're such a spectacular fuck up they should create a new —opath just for you. But it's all good, you're fine, it's fine, everything is perfectly fucking fine, you know... Phahahah, you should just go fuck yourself. Like, seriously.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
Anyway. My point was that I got an idea how to use it to trick my mind.
i.e., I have a weapon now. Mwahahahaaah!
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57-2024-05-25-2
When I imagine something, triggering an emotional reaction and creating the feeling that I am feeling myself — is it 'real'? Or is it 'fake'?
P.S.: Throwing up needles while running away from a nowadays Sodom and Gomorrah back to my parents' apartment?!? Bro couldn't pull a bigger cliché on me, pff.
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57-2024-05-25
These sweet dreams of mine are just the nightmares of another — there's nothing new under the sun.
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57-2024-05-12
Whatever they are trying to convince you, at the end of the day nothing is real but the way that you feel. So you better make sure that you are not taking things out of Your world just to remain in Theirs.
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57-2024-04-29
Always remember that flowers grow from bullshit. And that's beautiful.
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57-2024-04-22
You are the only one responsible for what has been shoved down your throat. “Turn the channel, close the book.”
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57-2024-04-19
I have a new metaphysical friend and I wanna scream from opened windows at devil's hour [again]. ^ - ^ Who said there's no life in death?!
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57-2024-03-29
Family wisdom for year one of the third decade:
“Every kid should become friends with the Devil; for how, otherwise, it's gonna cause trouble in the world?”
— Dad“This pretty head of yours has been given to you TO THINK WITH IT and only secondary for aesthetic.”
— Mom“We can only become what we really are when we no longer believe what others have convinced us to be.”
— MM (3/21/2002) -
57-2024-03-26
“Perhaps everything terrifying is at bottom the helplessness that seeks our help.”
— R. M. Rilke, "Letters To A Young Poet"
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57-2024-03-18
Still waters run deep for a reason.
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57-2024-03-08
Nothing is less dangerous than a creature who lacks the courage and imagination to use its power.
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57-2024-03-06
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57-2024-03-03
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57-2024-03-01
got aroused as fuck from nothing and need to break something and if you don't want it to be your face stop for fucks sake talking to me
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57-2024-02-27
Anyone with half a soul is in for a 45 minute murder of my lo-fi doppelgänger but they always seem to forget that in life you can't actually kill a shadow.
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57-2024-02-23
“People do strange things when they are judged all the time instead of just being loved.”
— Californication, S6 E10 "Blind Faith"
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57-2024-02-20
“Sleepless nights that last a lifetime crucify my head — dreams of peace and then disaster, wish that I were dead.”
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57-2024-02-15
“Every one is insane in one way or another. People just need to learn to respect the otherness in others.” — Dad
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57-2024-02-12
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57-2024-02-07
Who dies understood?
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57-2024-02-04
If black holes keep calling my name then maybe it's a good thing that my passions are deaf. Rising above sometimes “demands pure courage and talent as your only form of survival.”
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57-2024-01-31
“ ... All I'm going to do or all I hope to do this year, I should and could have done in the year just passed. But I'm attacked by a frightful illness, which has never played such havoc with me as in this year — I mean my reveries, my depression, my discouragement, my indecision.
Truly, I consider the man who succeeds in healing himself of a vice as infinitely braver than a soldier or a man who defends his honor in a duel. But how to heal myself? How transform despair into hope, weakness into willpower? Is this illness imaginary or real? Has it become real after being imaginary? Could it be the result of a physical weakness, or an incurable melancholy resulting from so many stormy years, years spent without consolation, in solitude and wretchedness?
I've no idea, but what I do know is that I feel utterly disgusted with everything and particularly with all kinds of pleasure (that's no bad thing), and that the only feeling that convinces me I'm still alive is a vague desire for glory, vengeance, and fortune.”— C. B. (31 December 1863)
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57-2024-01-30
Equally intolerant of everyone.
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57-2024-01-16
Like the world is ending every 2-3 days or so and then I just go 'Oh, nevermind.' It's hilarious.
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57-2024-01-13
You can't find in others what you don't have inside yourself.
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57-2024-01-11
Just leave me the fuck alone, so I could top myself. GO AWAY. I don't want you to care 'bout me and I don't know what the fuck you're even doing here. Is it so much to ask for everyone to fuck off and stop giving a flying fuck, stop expecting anything from me, and just set me free for fucks sake.
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57-2024-01-11
Sick of myself everything everyone and as calm as if I'm hugging a bomb.
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57-2024-01-08
Why you have to rationalize and destroy anything which brings you a moment of peace?
Self-deception as selfish way of self-soothing isn't peace, and it's ruthless to keep giving false hopes to anyone unfortunate enough to care, while knowing that I will never get out of here.
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57-2024-01-03
While we were getting him buried into the ground, two cats showed up in the middle of the fucking forest and stayed there with us. Then the female one jumped into my lap resting her head on my hand. My boy had an ACTUAL cat funeral. Life's just fucking surreal at times.
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57-2024-01-02
My cat is dying before my eyes, and dad's heart is ripping apart but of course (and as always) he puts his fucking philosophical-shit-superman mask, and just learned that my Bro is gonna be a father. No idea what I am feeling right now.
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57-2023-12-31
“In the eyes wide open the flight of the birds took roots.”
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57-2023-12-30
Your ass is a traitor — it fucks behind your back!
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57-2023-12-30-2
How we got tricked into believing that mankind can do better when there are things like traffic lights in order to be able to cross the fucking street without getting run over by another human being for no reason at all?!?
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57-2023-12-26
Waking up choking on your own blood is kind of existential experience.
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57-2023-12-17-3
11:40 PM. Pile of books. And no idea how, what and when. AGAIN.
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57-2023-12-15
“...and from fear I even put my head in the beast's mouth.”
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57-2023-11-15
“Can you imagine what the world would be if there was no electricity? Like, you'll never be able to hear the same song twice.” — M
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57-2023-11-07
literally hanging at the edge of in-sanity
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57-2023-11-06
JUST.LEAVE.ME.THE.FUCK.ALONE. For fucks sake. I don't want to get out of bed. I don't want to deal with your bullshit. I do nоt want to anything.
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57-2023-10-29
Turning someone into your saviour is same as turning them into your scapegoat — you are still avoiding responsibility for yourself.
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57-2023-10-25
“This pleasure comes precisely from the sharpest awareness of your own degradation; from the knowledge that you have gone to the utmost limit; that it is despicable, yet cannot be otherwise; that you no longer have any way out; that you will never become a different man.”
— Fyodor Dostoevsky, "Notes from Underground" (1864)
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57-2023-10-22
“Without dimension, where length, breadth, and highth, and time and place are lost; Where eldest Night and CHAOS, Ancestors of Nature, hold Eternal ANARCHIE, amidst the noise of endless warrs and by confusion stand.”
— John Milton, "Paradise Lost" Book II (1667)
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57-2023-10-21
Don't get fooled by my one side into knowing me.
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57-2023-10-19
“Life, as I know it, is cataclysms and apocalypses.
With each passing day I feel that much more incompetent even to trace gestures or to conceive myself in clearly real situations.
With each passing day the presence of others — which my soul always receives like a rude surprise — becomes more painful and distressing.
To talk with people makes my skin crawl. If they show an interest in me, I run. If they look at me, I shudder. If...
I'm forever on the defensive. I suffer from life and from other people. I can't look at reality face to face.
Only at night and all alone, withdrawn, forgotten and lost, with no connection to anything real or useful only then do I find myself and feel comforted.”
— Fernando Pessoa, "Book of Disquiet"
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57-2023-10-17
You can learn a lot about someone if you spend few hours together in silence.
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57-2023-10-16-2
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57-2023-10-16
“A writer — and, I believe, generally all persons — must think that whatever happens to him or her is a resource. All things have been given to us for a purpose and an artist must feel this more intensely. All that happens to us, including our humiliations, our misfortunes, our embarrassments, all is given to us as raw material, as clay, so that we may shape our art.”
— J. L. Borges, "Twenty-Four Conversations with Borges: Interviews by Roberto Alifano 1981-1983"
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57-2023-10-12
“If you've tried the civilized way first, then punching somebody in the face is not violence but standing up for yourself.” — Mom
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57-2023-10-11
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57-2023-09-23
In Praise of Darkness
Old age (the name that others give it) can be the time of our greatest bliss. The animal has died or almost died. The man and his spirit remain. I live among vague, luminous shapes that are not darkness yet.
Buenos Aires, whose edges disintegrated into the endless plain, has gone back to being the Recoleta, the Retiro, the nondescript streets of the Once, and the rickety old houses we still call the South.
In my life there were always too many things. Democritus of Abdera plucked out his eyes in order to think: Time has been my Democritus. This penumbra is slow and does not pain me; it flows down a gentle slope, resembling eternity.
My friends have no faces, women are what they were so many years ago, these corners could be other corners, there are no letters on the pages of books.
All this should frighten me, but it is a sweetness, a return. Of the generations of texts on Earth I will have read only a few – the ones that I keep reading in my memory, reading and transforming. From South, East, West, and North the paths converge that have led me to my secret center.
Those paths were echoes and footsteps, women, men, death-throes, resurrections, days and nights, dreams and half-wakeful dreams, every inmost moment of yesterday and all the yesterdays of the world, the Dane's staunch sword and the Persian's moon, the acts of the dead, shared love, and words, Emerson and snow, so many things.
Now I can forget them.
I reach my center, my algebra and my key, my mirror. Soon, I will know who I am.
by J.L. Borges
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57-2023-09-07
“We are perfect and ripe just before decay. Knowing this, a new consciousness, inevitably kills the old. One of the most painful things a person can experience is the agony of change. [...] Do not feel fear of what will be newly gained, and do not try to jump in a grave when we need to pay our respects and leave a tragedy.”
— MM (May 29, 2002)
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57-2023-09-05
“The only smiling are you dolls that I made, but you are plastic and so are your brains.”
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57-2023-09-01
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57-2023-08-27
The bliss of my spiritually elevated "y'all can go fuck yourselves" mood.
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57-2023-08-23
We are all creatures of thought; always pretending to be what we are and never being what we are pretending to be.
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57-2023-08-16
There is no road out of Hell, you just get comfortable once you are used to your ass occasionally being set on fire.
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57-2023-07-16
“If I am the storm, if I am the wonder, will I have flashlights, nightmares and sudden explosions?”
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57-2023-07-14
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57-2023-06-26
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57-2023-06-13
You must learn a new way to think in order to find a new way to be.
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57-2023-06-08
Unamusing myselves to death.
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57-2023-06-06
“Nothing is more painful to the human mind, than, after the feelings have been worked up by a quick succession of events, the dead calmness of inaction and certainty which follows, and deprives the soul both of hope and fear. Justine died; she rested; and I was alive. The blood flowed freely in my veins, but a weight of despair and remorse pressed on my heart, which nothing could remove. Sleep fled from my eyes; I wandered like an evil spirit, for I had committed deeds of mischief beyond description horrible, and more, much more, (I persuaded myself) was yet behind. Yet my heart overflowed with kindness, and the love of virtue. I had begun life with benevolent intentions, and thirsted for the moment when I should put them in practice, and make myself useful to my fellow-beings. Now all was blasted: instead of that serenity of conscience, which allowed me to look back upon the past with self-satisfaction, and from thence to gather promise of new hopes, I was seized by remorse and the sense of guilt, which hurried me away to a hell of intense tortures, such as no language can describe.”
— Mary Shelley, "Frankenstein" (1818)
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57-2023-05-29
Never forget that some people like to be shit on.
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57-2023-05-29-0
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57-2023-05-24
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57-2023-05-10
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57-2023-05-08
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57-2023-04-22
Introspection. It's good for you.
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57-2023-04-13
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57-2023-04-10
“That is the one weakness that has lead me into the most trouble. Trying to be kind to others I often get my soul shredded into a kind of spiritual pasta.
No matter. My brain shuts off. I listen. I respond. And they are too dumb to know that I am not there.”
— C. Bukowski, "Hollywood" (1989)
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57-2023-03-30
I am everything that you're not.
You are everything that I am.
Can you imagine being you again?
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57-2023-03-29
The urge of killing yourself at 30... should be some aging thingy. I hope.
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57-2023-03-28
But, I wasn't actually intending to bring the world to its end.
Remember that it was you that made me do so.
And now, who's to blame?
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57-2023-03-27
“To regret one's own experiences is to arrest one's own development. To deny one's own experiences is to put a lie into the lips of one's own life. It is no less than a denial of the soul.”
— Oscar Wilde, "De Profundis" (
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57-2023-03-26
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57-2023-03-24
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57-2023-03-21
“I won’t tell you that the world matters nothing, or the world’s voice, or the voice of society. They matter a great deal. They matter far too much. But there are moments when one has to choose between living one’s own life, fully, entirely, completely — or dragging out some false, shallow, degrading existence that the world in its hypocrisy demands. You have that moment now. Choose!”
— Oscar Wilde, "Lady Windermere's Fan" (1893)
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57-2023-03-20
The last 9 in 29. Mom was trying to convince me to go out and celebrate because "despite everything the world hasn't defeated me yet." Ha-ha-ha.
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57-2023-02-11
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57-2023-02-01
"It's all about balance, do you see? Balance is the trick. Keep the balance and—" She stopped. "You've ridden on a seesaw? One end goes up, one end goes down. But the bit in the middle, right in the middle, that stays where it is. Upness and downness go right through it. Don't matter how high or low the ends go, it keeps the balance." She sniffed. "Magic is mostly movin' stuff around."
— T. Pratchett, "Wintersmith" (1995)
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57-2023-02-01
Passed out after 60 hrs just to wake up 3 hrs later. My own brain is trying to kill me. Nice, huh.
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57-2023-01-27
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57-2023-01-20
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57-2023-01-05
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57-2023-01-03
You keep calling the emergency line but you won't hear a thing:"I CAN'T TELL YOU WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU.YOUR STORY IS YOUR OWN.NOBODY ELSE'S."
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57-2022-12-31
“I'm unclean, a libertine... You've never seen the lonely me at all.”
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57-2022-12-30
Food for thought — so, if nothing changes in our understanding — discern — then we shall remain trapped.
D.R. MacIver's NotebookI’m not trapped in here with you
Published: 2021-11-12
[ . . . ]
You’re free now
I want you to imagine a scenario: You’re in jail, you have been for a very long time, possibly most of your life.
You are in jail for what seems to you an entirely innocuous event, or something barely a crime. You were jaywalking, you stole a loaf to feed your family, you said the wrong thing to the wrong person and they took offence. You’re not flawless, but you’re pretty far from being a murderer. You did a normal and reasonable thing and are being disproportionately punished for it.
You still want all the things you wanted before you went to jail of course. If anything, you want them more, because you’ve been denied them for so long. More than that, though, you want freedom, and you want justice for the wrong that has been done to you by trapping you here.
The guard has, for many years, been making clear that you will not get these things and you do not deserve these things. You are bad, society is better off without you, you belong in this prison, so that other, decent, people are kept safe from the likes of you. The guard isn’t actively abusive, in the sense that he doesn’t come in and beat you just for the sake of it, but he does ample violence to you when you try to escape.
Sometimes you’ve even successfully escaped, for short times, but you are always caught and brought back to your cell, and you are very much punished for your escape attempt, both with violence and with verbal shaming.
Then, one day, the judge who sentenced to this place comes to you, opens your cell door, and tells you this: He has seen that what you want is no crime. He loves you, and looks at you with compassion in his heart, and he wants all the best for you, and he recognises that really you all want the same things and you’re all in this together. You are free to go.
If you do anything short of trying to literally murder the judge, you are probably a better person than me.
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57-2022-12-26
“Does time exist in Heaven or Hell?If it doesn’t, would you even know when you’re dead?And what if it’s a Schrödinger’s Cat kinda thing?Are you alive now if you kill yourself tomorrow?Can Hell work backwards like that?”
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57-2022-12-17
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57-2022-12-15
“Sainthood: to be beyond everything, but in and with love. How monotonous the life of saints, because they can only be saints.
Sainthood: existence lived in one single absolute dimension. Saints can also hear the voices of the world; but they only speak of the pains that have become love; these are the voices of a single world. Let me turn to the music in which the worlds speak, the other worlds...”
— E. M. Cioran, "The Book of Delusions" (1936)
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57-2022-11-25
I'll always love you... Sleep peacefully.
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57-2022-11-21
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57-2022-11-15
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57-2022-11-01
The Death of the Discworld stood up.
LORD I ASK FOR—
Three of the servants of oblivion slid into existence alongside him.
One said, Do not listen. He stands accused of meddling.
One said, And pride. And living with intent to survive.
One said, And siding with chaos against good order.
Azrael raised an eyebrow.
The servants drifted away from Death, expectantly.
LORD, WE KNOW THERE IS NO GOOD ORDER EXCEPT THAT WHICH WE CREATE...
Azrael's expression did not change.
THERE IS NO HOPE BUT US. THERE IS NO MERCY BUT US. THERE IS NO JUSTICE. THERE IS JUST US.
The dark, sad face filled the sky.
ALL THINGS THAT ARE ARE OURS. BUT WE MUST CARE. FOR IF WE DO NOT CARE, WE DO NOT EXIST.
IF WE DO NOT EXIST, THEN THERE IS NOTHING BUT BLIND OBLIVION. AND EVEN OBLIVION MUST END SOMEDAY.
LORD, WILL YOU GRANT ME JUST A LITTLE TIME?
FOR THE PROPER BALANCE OF THINGS. TO RETURN WHAT WAS GIVEN. FOR THE SAKE OF PRISONERS AND THE FLIGHT OF BIRDS.
Death took a step backwards.
It was impossible to read expression in Azrael's features.
Death glanced sideways at the servants.
LORD, WHAT CAN THE HARVEST HOPE FOR, IF NOT FOR THE CARE OF THE REAPER MAN?
— T. Pratchett, "Reaper Man" (1991)
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57-2022-10-30
“And why are you so firmly, so triumphantly, convinced that only the normal and the positive — in other words, only what is conducive to welfare — is for the advantage of man? Is not reason in error as regards advantage? Does not man, perhaps, love something besides well-being? Perhaps he is just as fond of suffering? Perhaps suffering is just as great a benefit to him as well-being? Man is sometimes extraordinarily, passionately, in love with suffering, and that is a fact. There is no need to appeal to universal history to prove that; only ask yourself, if you are a man and have lived at all. [...]
Whether it's good or bad, it is sometimes very pleasant, too, to smash things. I hold no brief for suffering nor for well-being either. I am standing for... my caprice, and for its being guaranteed to me when necessary. Suffering would be out of place in vaudevilles, for instance; I know that. [...] And yet I think man will never renounce real suffering, that is, destruction and chaos. Why, suffering is the sole origin of consciousness.”
— F. Dostoevsky, "Notes From Underground" (1864)
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57-2022-10-28
Well, I can't get any sleep anyway, so fuck it.
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57-2022-10-27
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57-2022-10-16
“The mind is its own place, and in itself Can make a heav’n of hell, a hell of heav’n. What matter where, if I be still the same, And what I should be, all but less than he Whom thunder hath made greater?”
— J. Milton, "Paradise Lost" Book I (1667)
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57-2022-10-06
GO FUCK YOURSELVES AND DIE. THAT'S HOW I AM.
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57-2022-09-29
"Where am I?"
INSIDE THE MIRROR.
"Am I dead?"
THE ANSWER TO THAT said Death IS SOMEWHERE BETWEEN NO AND YES.
. . .
"When can I get out?"
WHEN YOU FIND THE ONE THAT'S REAL.
"Is this a trick question?"
NO.
— T. Pratchett, "Witches Abroad" (1991)
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57-2022-09-28
oh, a hollow refrain
HOW FAR
you whisper to yourself
YOU'VE FALLEN?
and you almost sound cruel
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57-2022-08-31
"As obviously you haven't seen yourself lately." ... Or, obviously, I am doing my best to ignore it?
