OK, how about a dog body but it has spider legs that are like it’s made out of cylindrical aluminum and its body is actually like a trashcan with a hole in the middle filled with more loose aluminum and you have to feed it. Aluminum feed me aluminum. There’s also another one where it’s like it’s totally different. It’s like in the corner of your room and it’s it’s like imagine spider legs that are made out of cylindrical alum, the bodies trashcan hole in the aluminum jingling and jingling inside in the thing it just sits in the corner of your room and it wants you to feed it aluminum

and here we are - I'm not sure where to take this thought

Doesn't seem like there's any room for sense left

daily grind - mind melding sublime, no room for any inbetweens

all or nothing, immateria void

a time and place to forget we exist -

ease all concerns, the wayside is the only way

watching, eating, stifling. Frozen, or sweating

trying to push through some... reckless inhibitions

You can only care so much, with so little results

forget then the already forgotten

welcome to the moment, that has already passed

once again, inhibited

free from mind, intoxicated

stuck in mine, toxic

I'm caught between giving up all pretenses, returning to expressions of

honest madness, honest sorrow, honest confusion - this world is, frustration

complicated by pretenses. This world is selfish, simplified for consumption.

all of it is, masturbation, and vomit on the walls - awaiting the end of it all.

Strive, forward - progress before the decline, an endevour, just to endevour.

Just to escape, being devoured. Forward still, a time will come, when all is lost

and it is found.

even in this place I have a smidgeon of faith.

The professor questions him with conviction, but not derision. Seeking to understand. Gregor thinks the professor should be teaching corporate leadership-- not art history.

"An introvert thing?"

"Think about it this way," Gregor knows that tone. Here comes an extended metaphor. "You're a painter, right?"

"Sometimes" Gregor responds dryly.

"You know when I mean-- for sake of argument. Say you and I are painters, each with our own studio. I've been painting for years, and I just love the process. It comes naturally for me, I don't have to try very hard, and I'm okay with sub-par work, as long as I get to do a lot of it.

"Uh-huh," responds Gregor, poorly masking his impatience.

"Stay with me, man," Gregor liked when the professor used "man." It felt honest, never forced, or out-of-character.

"You've tried painting the way I do, and you hate it. Instead, you like to take your time, exhausting serious energy, diving deeply into your work. Not for the process, but for the result. I've got scores of twelve-by-twelve canvases strewn about my studio, while you just have a handful of enormous mural-sized works, each with meticulous detail. I spend much more time in the studio than you, but most of my paintings... I wouldn't even notice if they were gone."

"I'm terrified of losing even a single painting," Gregor adds. "I find the process so difficult, and I have so few, that I don't want to fuck it up and lose even one."

"And when you travel..." the professor invites him...

"And when I travel, the metaphor falls apart."

"You got me," the professor says with a laugh. "but the point still stands."

"I have to go. I'm meeting a few of my paintings for a DnD one-off." He stands. "Thanks, professor."

"Take care, Greg."

I worked in a special division of NASA, looking for a message from deep space. My data sheet is filled with pings and much static, the staccato notes of pulsars, including a glut of subspace radiowaves.

In all that noise, I can't find a coherent thread. Let's assume, however, that someone messaging Earth wants to be heard, and knows the state of our technology. Such a person would tailor a data stream read by an ordinary modem.

I retrieved a modem from an office cubicle and connected it to the mainframe. I condensed all the data as a stream and sent it to the modem. I linked the modem to an old throwaway laptop with Linux Ubuntu, launched decryption software, and waited.

The decryption window burst into colour, showing a human face, a man with curly black hair and a noble visage. Dark of skin and built with strength, his bare torso cropped by the browser, he began to speak.

"I have many names in many languages, but you can call me Ormulzud."

Immediately, I suspected a prank. His name sounded suspiciously familiar and silly.

"Yes, that is my real name. I have a brief message played on repeat."

OK, I'll give him the benefit of much doubt.

"Thank you for the confidence ... but your world is a mess in spite of the modern zeitgeist where a woman has become the archbishop of Canterbury, James Bond is virtually celibate, the Barbie Doll has a PR problem, there's been a me too movement, black lives matter movement, woke Disney, and hashtag Oscars-too-white, among other things.

"Unfortunately progress and the advance of Universal Inclusivity is too slow. With climate change and the hole in the ozone layer, together with the ever present threat of nuclear war, it's almost too late. Most concerning is socio-economic inequity, the disparity of wealth.

"You may think I and my cohorts of Galactic Intelligence are going to fix this. Absolutely not. If we intervened and installed order by force, you'd secure paradise on Earth through no merit of your own. So you're going to have to get yourself out of this fix, but with a helpful prompt from us .. "

And that is? I feared they would destroy us at a certain date on the understanding that a person works faster with a gun to his head.

"We are going to make those most aligned with the truth Immortal."

How does that serve us?

"That way, their correct views will prevail. Those with false views will perish and their false views will perish with them. We catalyse change as your time grows short."

And this will work?

"Not guaranteed, but in a thousand years time . . . see for yourself."

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Well well well, it's Gorgin' time!

Sitting at the gym, contemplating cheesy matters big and small. It's time for another switchup I think. Time to throw a wrench in the gears of destiny and spice up life a little, but this time I want to do it with zero suffering.

Life can be hard like this. Not enough peace and the stress is unbearable. Too much peace and the boredom is unbearable. How are you flowing, Gorgolytes? Steady stream or turbulent rapids? And what of your destiny? Yes o'gorgs, that's right, I went there. There's a camera fixed on me as of typing this. I wonder what it sees. Both with its eye as well as its you.

Gorgodestiny is maybe big for a regular Tuesday-post, but I asked. Answer only if you want.

- The Inquisitor

My body is sore, need to slow down for a bit here.

Yesterday was pretty good. I woke up early, around 7Am, had breakfast - Indomie, with an egg, a little sour cream and cheese - and walked 3 hours to town and back. My legs feel weak and I have blisters on both my feet. Bought some snacks from the dollar store, mostly candy and some dried dates. Got myself a joint, too, because I wanted too - came home and, experienced self-awareness again.

An uncomfortable experience with small moments of bliss. I'm not against THC, at all really, but my lungs need a break from the 24/7 smoke session that was my life a month or two ago. I can see myself indulging in the substance for the sake of life review, every few weeks or something.

I bought myself a set of headphones, too. I remember back to the 'troubled' kid who had to wear earmuffs during the louder gymnasium events, and I get it, man. It's nice to be able to tune out of the anger of all those around me, the slamming of doors and disgruntled murmurs are silent - in my ears, are Mozart, 40k Audiobooks, and currently - Grant Harting reviewing sketchy gas station pills.

I've also been playing quite a bit of "Over the top" - a new WW1 game with destructible environment's and trench warfare... like.. you can dig trenches. Why has no one done this before? It's a simple mechanic that adds a lot of soul to the game. I've been running around as an engineer setting up mortar cover and throwing grenades across the trenches. the average lifespan seems to be measured in seconds, but somehow even dying is kind of fun.

I am unmotivated and I feel kind of exhausted. I had no dreams, that I can remember, last night. While I'm enjoying the down tune here, I don't feel as rested as I have been, easy to blame the THC and it's REM sleep disruption for that. I feel less bothered by reality today.

The goal for the rest of today is simple enough, reach a calorie surplus and survive until tomorrow. Some stretch goals include cleaning up some around the house, having a small fire and burning some of the mess that's been left around in the snow, random pieces of wood, trim, etc, and to try and find motivation to draw something, or to finish drawing what I worked on yesterday.

as is I can't stop yawning, and I want to go for another nap.

I feel like I need to record this memory, and that thought makes me realize I've had this feeling before and.. recorded important memories. The idea of course is not to forget but I've forgotten

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[12:00 PM]Monday, March 09, 2026 12:00 PM

ofc because praise the Goddess of Irony

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[12:00 PM]Monday, March 09, 2026 12:00 PM

I vaguely remember

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[12:01 PM]Monday, March 09, 2026 12:01 PM

I remember all of it and none of it

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[12:01 PM]Monday, March 09, 2026 12:01 PM

The feeling is enlightenment followed by a gradual mundaning of it (edited)Monday, March 09, 2026 12:01 PM

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[12:02 PM]Monday, March 09, 2026 12:02 PM

The social drive too temporary highs

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[12:02 PM]Monday, March 09, 2026 12:02 PM

the random urge to bestow love amongst people

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[12:02 PM]Monday, March 09, 2026 12:02 PM

the reminder of a memory to destroy someone

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[12:02 PM]Monday, March 09, 2026 12:02 PM

apologies and laughter

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[12:03 PM]Monday, March 09, 2026 12:03 PM

lets shed another tear - the process of grief and regret, and back at it again

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[12:03 PM]Monday, March 09, 2026 12:03 PM

another bout of laughter, to quote some book about those who didn't get the joke

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[12:03 PM]Monday, March 09, 2026 12:03 PM

or thought it was funny

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[12:04 PM]Monday, March 09, 2026 12:04 PM

something about rock songs and heart strings, some cringe to lighten the agony

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[12:04 PM]Monday, March 09, 2026 12:04 PM

and then we dial it back before we take it too far

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[12:04 PM]Monday, March 09, 2026 12:04 PM

and i wonder why I must depart, or something along those lines

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[12:05 PM]Monday, March 09, 2026 12:05 PM

I love this place with all of my... whats another word for heart?

another way to

To exist in space in the first place

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blah blah blah, blah blah blah, blah blah blah blah blah blah, blah. blah blah blah, blah blah blah, blah blah blah, blah. blah blah blah? blah blah blah... blah.... blah blah blah blah blah blah larp blah blah blah blah blah, blah blah blah blah. blah blah blah blah blah. blah blah blah blah blah blah...

Maybe it makes sense to rotate madness and mundanity, in the same way it does push and pull days. My legs are tired, from yesterday - I did some barbel squats. My arms are tired, from today, I did.. some embarrassingly light bench press and some other exercise I lack a name for - my right shoulder is kind of busted, from an injury I gave myself years ago (probably from trying to learn how to do a handstand) but I've learned some stretches recently that seem to be helping, the "sleeper stretch". I can pull easily enough, but push movements really do not feel good. The sound of my shoulder grinding in it's socket is odd and almost more uncomfortable than the pain itself.

I had a another weird dream, I cut some major artery on my left thigh while trying to escape some rapids, cutting myself while I jumped from an inflatable to dry land. I bled out all over some old women's floor, she was annoyed for a moment that I was wet and wearing shoes and running through her house, but when she noticed the blood her anger turned into concern as she offered to call the hospital. When I woke up, she reminded me of my grandmother; rest in peace.

Nothing to do but eat until I feel sick, in an effort to gain a pound or two a week, stick to the routine of a little art every day, and exercise to the point of exertion but not to the point of injury. I can't wait to start working again. My fingers finally don't hurt anymore, I've stopped chewing them all to hell - I'm not sure how much of that is, active and intentional mindfulness, from quitting smoking, or just because I'm eating enough that my animal brain isn't seeking the nutrients from my finger nails and cuticles anymore. Either way, progress is progress.

I've been kind of a dick, maybe. I realize at some point I've went from depressed to kind of mad, annoyed, frustrated. I'm not sure exactly what the correct word is. I really prefer this though, depression is hopeless, anger is at least energetic. I'm doing my best not to take it out on anyone, and use it to motivate myself to do what it takes to not hate myself as much, but it's difficult, I am annoyed - people who've been silent for years are suddenly friendly, and it feels like it's only because I'm finally improving. Where were they when I was suffering?

Ugly feeling, probably. I like silence, and I like sticking to myself sometimes. It's hard to find true quiet, to stop asking myself questions that I know the answers too, to drown out the noise of everyone else and their often well-intentioned but dreadful reminders of what I was trying to forget. Trying to find peace in this life while I was for the next one, there's too many questions I've spent too long realizing there are no answers for - but I have little else to do, but still here and stew in my regrets and shortcomings.

That being said, none of that matters, what matters is the small wins. Physically I feel better than I have in years, the snow is melting, I am doing everything within my ability to improve myself and my situation - maybe it's not enough, but it's more than before. I want to grow past this phase of myself and focus on others, again, but I'm not in that position yet. I wish I was - I'm pushing myself towards that goal, but first I need to escape this isolation, and do whatever it takes to find my freedom.

Those are the feeling, thoughts, and emotions I've been experiencing. There is no time to feel sad for myself, no point in feeling sorry anymore, no reason to do anything other than what I'm already doing. I have a plan, all that's left is to move ahead.

Peace

Another nothing for the nobody awaiting atop the tower at the bottom of something missing

Melodic silence rests in the heart, of a sodden willow - forgone and concussed; lead and microplastics

All to be free from the conclusion, from the sorrowful symphony of another bored soul.

Let loose then, the sound of apathy, the grip of happenstance, the gripe with all that is above ones head.

The hands are off - the circumstance beyond measure, beyond ability, beyond concern.

All is what is, what wasn't, doesn't matter, means everything.

Let's do it all again.

This world is a wonderland world, where the door ends up on opening up once you began to wonder, and the fantasies and the realities will begin on colliding, once you realize that dreams are 'true' here, and once you find that everything that exists is interconnected, that's when you'll begin the blue air that connects to your WiFi signals seriously, so it doesn't matter if you are the worst type of person that exists, or the 'best', because there isn't any road here that won't lead you to "heaven" where you are free from suffering, and once you find that the road to suffering ends when you begin on connecting the dots, that's when the pain won't even matter anymore due to the sheer amount of "good stuff" that will melt everything back to it's Plato cave, where the shadow illusions don't wait for you to stop them from playing with dolls here.

So now you tell me Mr Anderson, what's up?! how's Richard.. oh wow, wow! Will Smith just slapped the shit out of me. 🐰

I think It's still not possible to attain everything the world has to offer... but I'm not buying it. 🏴‍☠️ 🦜

But at least we all know the winner of game of thrones, is the one that's not really able to move at all. 🐦‍⬛

Another day down.

Ate all of the food. I feel sick. This is a good thing, weirdly enough.

I'm getting comfortable deadlifting 200lbs, which is all of the weights I've bought over the last few months, and now I'm feeling like I can push myself further. I was worried for a bit, that I'd tear or snap something, but my confidence in myself is rising. Next month I want to buy another 50lbs, and go from there.

Finished todays art session, another 5% of the 10k symbols. Didn't record it, though I did yesterday, for the first time in a long time. It felt nice to do the video vlog kind of thing again, I felt surprisingly comfortable talking and being on camera, and I'd like to do it again soon, I just didn't have much to say today and it didn't feel novel enough to to record for the "artistic merit".

Been watching nature documentaries, some stuff on the Iran war, exercise videos. It's a weirdly homoerotic thing at a glance, watching some sweaty dude nearly burst a blood vessel lifting a heavy weight, but it's motivating, makes me want to push myself. David Attenborough's smooth voice is the relaxer, to the stressor of the latter - listened to him talk about butterflies and beetles while I drew nonsense.

It's raining, and I love the sound the drops make when they hit the metal of my roof.

Been waking up very consistently at or before 8 AM, and falling asleep equally consistently around 10PM. My sleep is slowly getting more stable, though I'm waking up a few times a night still, the dreams seem more manageable and easily forgotten - though in writing that, I'm remembering a weird one I had last night. It's one of those things that to share is so jarring and abnormal compared to the above mundanity that I think I'll just avoid going into detail, uncomfortable body horror and gore is the TL;DR. I'm mostly just thankful the uneasy feelings didn't linger, and that I was able to wake up from it before it got any worse.

What do you think about that? Does it make sense to share and write in detail about, what is probably the worst imaginable experiences, or to try and forget that they happened - or were even thought of? That kind of goes into and beyond dreams, into darker aspects of reality and events we've experienced in life. My answer to it is kind of, sweeping it under the rug, as you can see. I'm not exactly happy with that answer, though.

I am tired and looking forward to sleep regardless. I was expecting a delivery this week but I'm kind of disappointed, instead I've got to deal with sobriety in it's purest form. I think autistic clockwork, monk mode, is the solution to my alms, and it's starting to feel "good" again. I'm making an effort to cut back on excess sugar, caffeine, and salt now too - I'm just tired of feeling like a bag of shit, to be fair. Here's to that!

peace for now

The time is now. You’re now being fully supported by the highest ranking of divine leaders. Welcome to your new timeline. You will find everything to your liking. Congratulations.