Elucidating Questions

I just made a really bad joke and then laughed at myself for a bit

死生日

And the ridiculousness of that creation

Death birth day

Pffff

Sorry

Jesus and I have a weird relationship

One where I stand around pointing at things going did you mean to do this?

But generally accept that he was a cool dude or collection of several dudes

Making fun of his ex existence and the story around it just exists because I laugh at painful stuff

The person who laughs when morbid things happen because otherwise how?

And I have a funny complex around death and rebirth and all that

The absoluteness of death in a Universe of so few absolutes

People keep saying they found the absolute something; but then they find the next one; no, wait they really found it this time

The only rule in this place seems to be that nothing stays the same

Death birth day

The birth of your death

That produces interesting images

Let’s not explore any of it

But, like, you got better apparently

That’s where I start to see the faery tale

Nothing like that happens since cameras everywhere

Like spontaneous human combustion

It looks like just another thing that a human made up to get what they wanted from someone

Freedom

Control

So many things that humans said totally existed

Totally happened

I don’t know

Jesus died because he challenged the state

Because he was an uncitizen even though he was indigenous to the place because the Romans had decided they lived there now

Don’t these hypocrites see Jesus in these people who are being stripped, shaved, and sent to a torture prison?

No due process

Because they aren’t citizens

My father laughed

He doesn’t see a suffering indigenous person being tortured by the state for being different

No, they’re not miracle workers

I didn’t say they were Jesus I said don’t you see Jesus in them?

They could be the worst criminals

We wouldn’t know one way or the other because the majority of them seem to have been arrested on some white dude’s gang alien wet dream

And they’re people

Even the world’s worst human being deserves the room to move

I wouldn’t even say you should treat them like animals because we fucking shouldn’t do this shit to animals either

Torture is for the savage

And if you would torture another human do you not deserve to be tortured yourself?

See, the thing is, you don’t.

Because torture is wrong

We look at the torture devices of the past and think that’s barbaric, which is still an insult to anyone who doesn’t speak Greek

Gee, more xenophobic, cruel bullshit

But if only they saw what people do now

It’s wrong so we shouldn’t do it

Some poor Hispanic person is going to say the wrong thing about the wrong person and get disappeared

Jesus, on this day of your death

Which we call good for some reason

I don’t want help with this situation that has been handed to me by you through this awful relay

If you were God you hadn’t experienced death before

If you did that and then peaced

I really couldn’t fucking blame you

But if you were so infallible, so perfect, how could you have made such a grave mistake?

Prayer is so pointless to me

In my theism the gods are always offering some of the things I hear people pray for

And the other things are beyond their control

You can ask for guidance and love from the Universe, but they are always offering those things, you just have to look for them

Protection from the gods only exists as long as you walk with them

Listen to them

If you stray off the path then they cannot  guarantee your safety

And the protection of the gods

The guidance

Is never exactly what you think it will be

It’s not like you come to them and say

Gods, this is my ideal life, give it to me

And if you’re dealing with humans

Sometimes for all their protection and guidance they can do nothing

What will be will be

Bad things happening are not the gods turning away from me

I do not have to beg them to return

This is a place of chaos

They are the threads of order about it

Praying to a god to beg for love seems cruel on the god’s part

Plying him

I read the Bible god, do you love me yet?

It’s as if they believe that some day their god will come down with his little wand and give them everything they want

I would feel like any god I have to appease is no good

Mine don’t judge

Because they know I’m a stupid human with complexities beyond my own compre

I apologise when I do the wrong thing

But I’ve never felt malice

Never felt like I was judged

Tired understanding

You tiny fool

It’s okay

I almost pity them

Fearing your god

I don’t say anything

People should be free to worship their own things

But prayer makes me so sad

Birds are chirping

Not like before

Vehicles loudly droning past

I don’t like the city

People piled on people

The energy of the area is frenetic

And I don’t know if that’s a lingering trauma

Or the drone of some thousand souls all in one place

I don’t feel like people are supposed to be piled on top of each other

And I am sick of people telling me that reality is “just life”.

As if everything we see wasn’t manufactured from someone’s nightmare of a brain

As if we couldn’t have gone with another vision

I feel lost here

There is no spirit of the forest around me

The Ocean is nearby

And I need to go see it

But I cannot take the Ocean on to land with me

I can only simulate it when I drink water and imagine it is all around and within me

The water that has separated itself from the Ocean

And you can see Spring here

Trees placed as decoration

Not greeted, nor revered

The wildness cornered

As soon as the trees get too big

Step out of the human expectations

Become a “problem”

They will be unceremoniously destroyed

They will not see the ages of their ancestors

They are token nature

Nothing more

Why did we do this?

It wasn’t for everyone’s benefit

I can assure you a comfortable peasant had more free time and community than most people who occupy the peasant class with a fancy new label now

And it baffles me

We grew in some ways and not in others

We largely* figured out not to kill each other

*= most of the population wouldn’t kill someone for no good reason, it’s the few with too much power and the drones who follow, the monsters in our society we gave control of everything

We’re learning how to treat sick people

Mentally different people

But this life?

This so called developed life?

A city filled with people wandering the streets at night screaming their pain

Why did you do this?

People blame me for what I am

Dismissively tell me to get therapy as if being mentally ill and wrong are mutually inclusive

Stupidly, they think me talking to someone every month is going to fix what this society has done to my psyche

I did not become this way in a vacuum, you swine

For centuries we’ve dismissed people because they’re mentally ill

Called anything we didn’t want to learn about “crazy”, thus, unimportant and wrong

Why don’t you go to therapy?

See if it fixes all your very real problems

And when it doesn’t you can cry about it

But I don’t

Therapy is helpful for figuring out yourself

I’m one of the more self aware crazy people you’ll find

I know and understand parts of my psychology that would make you cry

If I’m crazy then all my life experiences mean nothing to people

And I’m not going to hide it

But people call me crazy for things that really don’t seem that crazy

Meanwhile they believe some really fucked up shit about humanity

It kills me that all living beings being cared for is not the goal of this civilization

That has really fucked me up

Raised on this idea of selflessness, caring for one another, loving this planet

And when I grew up reality was completely different

And unlike all my stories

There’s no good guy

Sorry if that makes me naive, to have believed what adults were selling me as a child

Sorry if the whiplash of reality has thrown me so far off who I once was I don’t even have a me to return to

The last time I was in one piece I was a child

You think therapy is going to fix this?

The brutality of always being out of money, going without important medications, food?

You think therapy is going to fix the fact that my body betrayed and cursed me for life?

Is therapy going to fix the fact that I used to be able to walk from here to downtown, and then all around downtown, and then back again

That now I made it one way and paid for it the next day?

That I used to be able to work full-time, became disabled, couldn’t anymore, and the world said “here live off of $1400 a month” and when I could no longer afford rent because of it and had to move back in with my father they made it $1300?

Is therapy going to fix that I’m worth $1300 a month in a city with rent of $2000 a month?

Is it going to fix that there are people out there who don’t even believe I’m worth that much and would take it away if they could?

Is therapy going to fix the isolation? Is it going to make people like me?

Is it going to stop that my very limited social interaction is about 60% abuse?

I think you’re insane if you think therapy is going to fix this

And if you think my voice is less important because I broke under the weight of this hellscape.

It’s hard being evil.

Because I don’t want to be.

But my only feedback is that I’m an awful person

No one ever tells me I’m a good person

So it can’t be true

And I just really wanted to be good

From a tiny person who believed in Christianity and Jesus

Wanting to do what was right

It’s not possible

I think I’ve had hundreds of people call me evil

I could probably count on one hand the number of genuine compliments I’ve received about being decent

Not good enough

Never good enough

I want to cease existing in these moments

I don’t want to hear about how awful I am anymore

People are only good for tearing me to pieces

No one ever wants to build me up

I want to go home

I assume home is a place where I’m not judged for my inability to be perfect

Not good enough

Never enough

Always too much

It infuriates me that I’m both

I want to disappear

But disappearing is my greatest fear

I apologise for my continued existence

I’m too much of a coward to do anything about it

I exist, right?

I see my breasts and feel disgust

Anything to do with my nether regions makes me feel sick

I look at myself in the mirror and feel horror because I’m not who I am in my mind

And it’s not like “oh no I’m fat”

I am fat

And I hate it

And that’s an entirely different can of societal trauma

But my body

When you touch your own body do you feel shame?

Looking at your arms, your legs, your shape

Do you feel like you failed to exist right?

Maybe

Maybe it’s that fat dysmorphia

I don’t feel failure because I’m fat when I’m feeling dysphoria

I feel like my body failed me

I’d still be non-binary with a testosterone body

But I’d have the pieces I’m missing

I don’t even want a man part

A third arm

It’s easier to describe a penis than vagina and company

Because like that’s not a vagina it’s labia and more labia and then a vagina and a cervix and a uterus and ovaries

Ugh

Just describing it makes me feel ick

And then I feel more shame because a vagina and company aren’t what’s gross about the thought it’s that they’re in me

I wish I could be a male barbie

No boobs

Flat

Nothing to abuse

Well I guess you can abuse nipples but you can’t put anything into them or them into anything (god the entire concept just why biology?)

You ridiculous creature

You’re like I have the power to do anything with these cells

I’m gonna make them fuck

You weirdo

I just want to escape not seeing me in the mirror

I know I can’t alter my face

It’s just my unfortunate face

I just wish I could see me someday

There’s so much that goes into the dysphoria

I’m almost certain that if there weren’t demands of beauty and certain looks for certain people

I wouldn’t feel this strongly

Sometimes I look at animals and feel jealous that they don’t understand mirrors

They don’t know what they look like

The tiger doesn’t know he’s supposed to be orange with stripes

Even if he’s albino and chased away by other tigers because he’s a different colour he doesn’t know that’s why

They don’t know the rules we arbitrarily put on their existences

The black grey squirrel doesn’t care that you assigned him the colour grey

They don’t know the expectations of a parent who put themself and their spouse into a “what will your baby look like” app

They don’t know the disappointment of eyes too small, nose too long, mouth ugly

Of not enough like their mum, dad, uncle, sister, grandma, cousin

Bodies are so policed in this society and they act like they’re not

If it’s not illegal (ex: being naked) it’s shamed (ex: a man wears a skirt)

So, my body, was always not enough

And then I got sick and it betrayed me twice on that count

I exist right?

These feelings exist?

I know they are within my head

In that place beyond the bounds of the Universe

Where there’s no matter and a great something waiting just past the edge

But thoughts exist, yes?

They are, like so many things in this Universe, not palpable

Not “real”

But so real to the thinker

I may just have been a mirror of what society expected of me

I may have stepped off the path into pure lunacy

But when I came back I knew myself better than anyone has ever known me

I may largely not know who I am still, years of being programmed takes years of uninstalling

Rewriting

I wish I could go back to that time before I was molested by my brother’s god brother

Before I knew I was just a sex object whose autonomy only continued as long as someone else let it

I want to be sexless

Bodiless

I want to be so great I can embrace the Sun

So small I could rest in the dust of Saturn’s rings

I don’t want to be a being that plays nice in Hell while being forced to enforce and increase the hell of Hell

But if I’m here?

Stuck?

I’m more than a gender could ever be

I’m just a being that exists here

Because of this world I have both “feminine” and “masculine” qualities

And because of twisted beauty standards I can’t see myself in this body

But I’m so much more than all of that

And I don’t think that is something unique to me

I’m only talking from my point of view because I am only me

I can’t speak for others

I don’t know why I am what I am

The Universe just views me with that crooked smile and raised brow when I ask why

But maybe some people are just “like me”

Maybe people are just sometimes different from others

People who do harm are not me

Human beings are very similar

I annoy myself sometimes

But we’re also very different

The Universe enjoys dualities

It also enjoys spectrums

One, but the other

And everything in between

Pushing the limits of possible

I ask, if we are built in our Creator’s image

Would we not contain the things they love so much?