Alexander
Well-known member
Greetings to all new, longtime, and anyone else who is able to view this thread.
Welcome to my consciousness, which lies inside the synapses aggregated between the very little space between my two ears.
What am I doing here? I look around and realize I am in a motel in the middle of Chicago, the television displays consistent news stories about a monster of a tornado that just decimated an entire city in Joplin, MO. I hear sounds behind me, sounds I can only describe as pure ecstasy. I turn from the TV and notice a black woman laying on the floor, tossing and turning; mimicking the natural rhythm of the waves on the ocean shoreline. She is in a completely different world; possibly universe. Obviously not sober, she was a human being; but everything human about her had vanished. The emotion of what she was expressing was nothing short of pure heaven, like the universe didn't exist and all was heaven; even given the fact that to my sober reality she was rolling around on the dirty floor naked, slightly whisperin for me to fuck her. I knew she had shot up, I knew that she was on a completely different realm of consciousness, and I was merely the observer, as in most cases in my life so far. Briefly I came to, awaken to the situation, even though I was never asleep or unconscious to begin with.
This story begins at a mental hospital, a story of a conservative christian upbringing, and a god that I found to not exist as I was taught "He" did. Coming into adulthood I had the normal teenage tendencies to relieve myself sexually to whatever I could find; in this time it wasn't as easy as picking up a smartphone or tablet. I had to hunt on my fathers computer and use my limited computer knowledge at the time before torrents existed and where the internet needed a phone line; the good 'ol days of DSL. I was obviously very sleuth about the whole masturbation thing in my parents house, for the repercussions that could bite me in the methods of shaming; although masturbatiion was a completely natural behavior for a thirteen year old unbeknownst to me.
Skip to early high school, where I had some troubles socializing and making relationships outside of school, acquaintances have been the word I chose for the majority of my friendships, and it is this was to this day. It's very strange but I can pinpoint exactly when something started feeling a little...off. The day that Mister Rogers died I started having these strange inclinations to move around and I couldn't sit still or focus for more than 5 minutes at max. This was obviously a problem in school, because I was only allowed so many bathroom passes. This happened toward the latter part of the school year so my parents were able to withdraw me early from my studies. They sent me to a mental rehabilitation hospital, sending me schoolwork, thinking I actually had the capability of performing such tasks in my current mental state. I stayed for a week and was released. My parents also said the school that I transferred to was "praying" for my health.
After this I was admitted to a few more institutions and given a pharmacists library of different cocktails of medications, all of which made me feel dead inside, and they didn't help much in the next trip I took. My 23rd birthday I had an early morning appointment to talk to a therapist, which I knew wasn't going to do my any good; as I was having trouble eating and being a supposed functional human being in this society. The current medication I was taking was zoloft. I woke up that morning in a complete daze, not even feeling alive to begin with. I got out of my bed, found the nearest object that was rope-like; and hung myself in the closet with a belt.
This obviously isn't the end of my story, unless you believe that someone from the potential afterlife would actually give a fuck to communicate back to the filth that this reality truly can become, so this is where my life began to get quite interesting. After that incident and another hospital visit, I understandably wanted to get as far away from that environment as possible, which I did...with haste. I headed to Chicago.
The last visit I had in the psych ward was when my mind went into a place I could only describe as absolute mania. I didn't realize at first, but I was slowly generating a god complex through my philosophical ideas of the universe around me. Time, space, reality, everything. I tested reality and started using numerology as a key to the universe. I also theorized that since the present moment in time doesn't technically exist, neither does the past or the future. I was hooked into translating the number of characters in words into numbers and using them to find meanings. I was obsessed with the number 4. I will attach a document showing a little bit about how my mind was forming these ideas.
In my reality, I tested everything, and since time didn't exist, who could say that every interaction with someone wasn't pre-determined by my future self? I eventually got to a point where I felt that I figured out this existence, and that I could potentially be a god; it took a long time to convince myself of this, but I found out through this experience that the more you believe something, the more real it becomes to the observer/believer. I finally realized now why it is so hard for people to break out of religious mindsets and narrow minded thought processes.
I'm very sorry on behalf of all the HYPOCHRISTIANS out there for their double standards and sexim (homophobia most definitely included). I am glad that I have never had a negative judgement towards other humans based on their lives, chosen paths or otherwise.
Fast forward to the present day, I have stopped all medications, although klonopin is my crutch, I lost my job due to a DUI in May of this year and currently applying for unemployment. I am now an atheist, until otherwise scientifically demonstrated. I believe life is a contradiction, and for now I believe that if the universe is truly infinite, there are an infinite number of realities where we are doing exactly what we are doing right now; and also at this exact moment, you are everything you ever wanted to be, and yet you also do not exist.
In order to exist in an infinite universe, you must therefore not exist in an infinite number of other realities happening right now.
I will leave you with this:
THERE ARE NO ABSOLUTES.
NOTHING IS IMPOSSIBLE.
I'm sure you can see the significance of these statements given the pretext of my dialogue here.
Thanks for listening to my journey.
In life and death,
-Alexander
Instagram: xokcomputerx
Snapchat: zeroabsolutes
Welcome to my consciousness, which lies inside the synapses aggregated between the very little space between my two ears.
What am I doing here? I look around and realize I am in a motel in the middle of Chicago, the television displays consistent news stories about a monster of a tornado that just decimated an entire city in Joplin, MO. I hear sounds behind me, sounds I can only describe as pure ecstasy. I turn from the TV and notice a black woman laying on the floor, tossing and turning; mimicking the natural rhythm of the waves on the ocean shoreline. She is in a completely different world; possibly universe. Obviously not sober, she was a human being; but everything human about her had vanished. The emotion of what she was expressing was nothing short of pure heaven, like the universe didn't exist and all was heaven; even given the fact that to my sober reality she was rolling around on the dirty floor naked, slightly whisperin for me to fuck her. I knew she had shot up, I knew that she was on a completely different realm of consciousness, and I was merely the observer, as in most cases in my life so far. Briefly I came to, awaken to the situation, even though I was never asleep or unconscious to begin with.
This story begins at a mental hospital, a story of a conservative christian upbringing, and a god that I found to not exist as I was taught "He" did. Coming into adulthood I had the normal teenage tendencies to relieve myself sexually to whatever I could find; in this time it wasn't as easy as picking up a smartphone or tablet. I had to hunt on my fathers computer and use my limited computer knowledge at the time before torrents existed and where the internet needed a phone line; the good 'ol days of DSL. I was obviously very sleuth about the whole masturbation thing in my parents house, for the repercussions that could bite me in the methods of shaming; although masturbatiion was a completely natural behavior for a thirteen year old unbeknownst to me.
Skip to early high school, where I had some troubles socializing and making relationships outside of school, acquaintances have been the word I chose for the majority of my friendships, and it is this was to this day. It's very strange but I can pinpoint exactly when something started feeling a little...off. The day that Mister Rogers died I started having these strange inclinations to move around and I couldn't sit still or focus for more than 5 minutes at max. This was obviously a problem in school, because I was only allowed so many bathroom passes. This happened toward the latter part of the school year so my parents were able to withdraw me early from my studies. They sent me to a mental rehabilitation hospital, sending me schoolwork, thinking I actually had the capability of performing such tasks in my current mental state. I stayed for a week and was released. My parents also said the school that I transferred to was "praying" for my health.
After this I was admitted to a few more institutions and given a pharmacists library of different cocktails of medications, all of which made me feel dead inside, and they didn't help much in the next trip I took. My 23rd birthday I had an early morning appointment to talk to a therapist, which I knew wasn't going to do my any good; as I was having trouble eating and being a supposed functional human being in this society. The current medication I was taking was zoloft. I woke up that morning in a complete daze, not even feeling alive to begin with. I got out of my bed, found the nearest object that was rope-like; and hung myself in the closet with a belt.
This obviously isn't the end of my story, unless you believe that someone from the potential afterlife would actually give a fuck to communicate back to the filth that this reality truly can become, so this is where my life began to get quite interesting. After that incident and another hospital visit, I understandably wanted to get as far away from that environment as possible, which I did...with haste. I headed to Chicago.
The last visit I had in the psych ward was when my mind went into a place I could only describe as absolute mania. I didn't realize at first, but I was slowly generating a god complex through my philosophical ideas of the universe around me. Time, space, reality, everything. I tested reality and started using numerology as a key to the universe. I also theorized that since the present moment in time doesn't technically exist, neither does the past or the future. I was hooked into translating the number of characters in words into numbers and using them to find meanings. I was obsessed with the number 4. I will attach a document showing a little bit about how my mind was forming these ideas.
In my reality, I tested everything, and since time didn't exist, who could say that every interaction with someone wasn't pre-determined by my future self? I eventually got to a point where I felt that I figured out this existence, and that I could potentially be a god; it took a long time to convince myself of this, but I found out through this experience that the more you believe something, the more real it becomes to the observer/believer. I finally realized now why it is so hard for people to break out of religious mindsets and narrow minded thought processes.
I'm very sorry on behalf of all the HYPOCHRISTIANS out there for their double standards and sexim (homophobia most definitely included). I am glad that I have never had a negative judgement towards other humans based on their lives, chosen paths or otherwise.
Fast forward to the present day, I have stopped all medications, although klonopin is my crutch, I lost my job due to a DUI in May of this year and currently applying for unemployment. I am now an atheist, until otherwise scientifically demonstrated. I believe life is a contradiction, and for now I believe that if the universe is truly infinite, there are an infinite number of realities where we are doing exactly what we are doing right now; and also at this exact moment, you are everything you ever wanted to be, and yet you also do not exist.
In order to exist in an infinite universe, you must therefore not exist in an infinite number of other realities happening right now.
I will leave you with this:
THERE ARE NO ABSOLUTES.
NOTHING IS IMPOSSIBLE.
I'm sure you can see the significance of these statements given the pretext of my dialogue here.
Thanks for listening to my journey.
In life and death,
-Alexander
Instagram: xokcomputerx
Snapchat: zeroabsolutes
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