This Is Weird

Now that two of my idols, Aubrey De Grey and Elon Musk, have commented on this nobody’s crappy site this really reinforces the simulation/God-is-real/this-world-is-totally-fake vibes. I checked where the messages came from and it seems legit:

My hedonic tone didn’t increase as I think it should have for such a life changing event. But I did have a smile on my face for a long time. And I think I feel safer, knowing that 2020 won’t be as cruel with me as 2019 was – riddled with heavy depression and torpor. When I was locked in the hospital for the second time in 2019 for suicidal ideation one of my wishes I wrote on a paper was to meet Elon Musk. I haven’t met him but this is close enough, and perhaps even better since he came to me and not me to him. That was totally unexpected. Thank you universe. This miracle was somewhere around the level of when the universe directly replied to my thoughts with a car passing by in Punta Cana, but even more miraculous. I randomly burst out into little laughs throughout the day because it’s so ridiculous that the Elon Musk would take time out of running Tesla and Space X and The Boring Company to write an encouraging comment on a loser’s obscure, crappy website. It’s so unbelievable that the joke almost falls flat. However, I do feel less unimportant now.

I dreamt that Kim Kardashian was wearing a beautiful outfit, beige and gold. And I kept staring at her intensely and thinking, “Are people really this smart? Capable of creating this clothing?” Kanye West was being accused of selling his soul but he denied it and I was asked if I wanted to do the same for the power and glory. A few dream sequences later I was at a Tesla dealership. My mom had brought me there and kept trying that I get a job. She said, “It’s easy, all you have to do is show cars.” I said, “No! No! I can’t do it!” Then I sat on some seat and there was a man telling me he thought it was better to deal with people having real conversations than to work reading a piece of paper. I said, “I prefer the paper.”

I told my cousin Diego that if I wasn’t already sure this was a simulation then this does it. He asked why. I told him it was because it makes no sense that Elon Musk would discover such an obscure website (and exactly at the time when I asked if Elon Musk was next.) He tells me to ask Elon how he came across my website. But although he might have a story about it, I think it’s too late to make this seem “realistic.” In the past I’ve also had experiences with people commenting on some distressed writing on the details section of a random video in the super obscure fragmentsoflifeforagi YouTube channel soon after I edit it. And these are videos with like 15 views. That person also told me I was not alone and that I’m not the first to wake up.

I slapped myself a few times. “You’re supposed to be happy, the main character of the universe commented on your site.”


And oh God now Eliezer makes a comment!

I don’t know how I should feel anymore. This is weird. I don’t know what’s going to happen.

When I was in the hospital there was a young man my age who was a Jew, a software engineer, constantly mentioned that his mother was a sadist, and believed he was God himself. I asked him if he knew about Kingdom Hearts. He said he didn’t. I explained the premise to him and he said, “Yeah, I think life is basically Kingdom Hearts.” So the story goes that at first the three young teens were living in Destiny Islands (paradise) but they wondered why they had to live there. “If there are any other worlds out there, why did we end up on this one? And suppose there are other worlds, then ours is just a little piece of something much bigger,” said Riku. By wishing to go to other worlds they opened the door to darkness and they were hurled all to different places in the universe. From there on Sora’s task is to help with the particular problems of each world he visits and to reunite with his friends Riku and Kairi. This is a wonderful story and if something like it is true then I might have to say that I’m beginning to think this isn’t so bad after all. Once I begin helping this world, traveling to other worlds, and finally reuniting with my long lost friends I will be happy.

Tongues Of Fire

Aubrey De Grey’s Parable of the Piano used to make a lot of sense to me but now I realize it doesn’t. The idea is: don’t do what others are already good at, make a difference instead. But if I followed this line of thinking I wouldn’t work out since there are already tons of people with great bodies out there. The thing is I don’t care so much about their bodies. I want my body to be great. However the benefit of his way of thinking is I wouldn’t be jealous of great art because I would think there are other people great at making it so why should I be making it? The fact that I want to possess the greatness all for myself is what leads to depressing feelings. I am thankful that there is beautiful art, music, and writing but I would be even more thankful if I could seriously contribute. I feel like I am a spectator not entirely from this world.

And if it was the real Aubrey De Grey who commented on this site yesterday then I have to say I would have been more stunned in my pre-simulation days when I believed people were real. I honestly don’t feel the level of excitement that I should for such an important scientist to discover my crappy blog and YouTube channel, and bother to take the time to write a long comment. What a marvelous happening, Aubrey De Grey stroked his beard a couple times, took a sip of his beer (not a Heineken) and typed out some encouraging words for me. What a wonderful world I live in. Thank you God! Who’s next? Sam Harris? Eliezer Yudkowsky? Kanye West? Elon Musk?

I had a dream in which I went over how I believe in gods/aliens and that psilocybin allowed you to contact them but DMT allowed you to be immersed in their presence. I was also scolding someone, maybe my mom, for not knowing agriculture was invented 12,000 years ago. I told my cousin Diego, “Isn’t the fact that it only took 12,000 years from the beginning of agriculture to get here so amazing?” His response was ambiguous, something like yes-and-no it depends on how you look at it. I was also talking to some Dominicans and telling them how their society was more advanced than where I came from because their people were better. I told them that in Chicago there were a lot of shootings. It seems that in my dreams I still believe in history and current events.

How can I see all the products in a store and not believe this is a simulation? And the people don’t look the same as when I was younger. There is something ominously off about them. And where are all these cars going? Why is there always traffic? But none of this is important – just the simulation doing its simulation thing.

I still believe in people as fictional characters that appear in my consciousness like I’m immersed in a VR world all by myself. They are characters but they don’t have permanent existences in the hardware or on the screen. So when I see what they can do I don’t attribute it to them but instead to the metaphorical designers of the game. I don’t actually think so much about a pantheon sitting in the clouds who created the world but I think about that fundamental creative intelligence that runs through all things. But that’s not to say that there aren’t powerful entities outside the simulation as I very well think there are.

I’m not sure if I posted this before. It’s something I wrote on the plane and I’m going to post it anyway:

Animals are treated mercilessly. Humans are sick, disgusting creatures. They continue to breed with disgusting smiles on their faces as if everything were okay, as if suffering didn’t exist. It is truly revolting to see a mother holding her baby. Where is God? Why would God allow these demon spawn to proliferate? This is the problem of evil. There must be a solution to the problem of evil for the simple reason that I do not experience hell, or even neutrality either as a random trek through the valence landscape or as permanent hedonic 0. Either of these two options would be expected if reality truly were indifferent to my plight as Richard Dawkins would have me imagine. Reality cares about me. It may have fucked up morals that I disagree with but it cares in its own way. This leads me to an obvious solution to the problem of evil: all the other people and animals are not conscious. It cannot be possible that by cumming inside a woman you can create a brand new soul. A brand new consciousness out of what was previously dead matter. It just can’t be true. It’s too horrible to contemplate. There is also the problem of people’s abilities. People achieve ridiculously complex and difficult things with awe-inspiring levels of perfection. Yet when I look at my own abilities I feel totally cut out from being able to participate in that grandiosity. I cannot even begin to create a plane, a video game, a phone, an anime, Amazon, a pencil, a plastic cup, a can of soda, a napkin etc. Ridiculous levels of persistent intelligence, talent, coordination, and conscientiousness are needed for all of this to work.

If I’m eternal why am I not God in all his glory? I am eternal and yet I find myself stuck in this beginner or newbie sort of character. Perhaps once you beat a game, you move on to a new one and you don’t get to keep your stats. That’s why it genuinely feels like my life just begun and why I feel powerless. This makes a sort of Dharmic conception of reality most realistic. If this is the situation I find myself in, samsara, then the obvious next question is how do I put an end to it? How do I attain nirvana?


I saw a sign that said “extra virgin oil.” Then I thought about being a virgin and laughed to myself. I can’t believe I used to think sex was Real. I’m not supposed to have sex, dummy.

Sex remains one of the strangest concepts about this simulation.

Tracing Ephemera

Thanks to “.” for telling me about 1P-LSD and ALD-52 and where I can buy them: Now I just need to change some dollars into bitcoin. It is sketchy that all these places only accept cryptocurrency but “.” tells me s/he has ordered from this place successfully and received his/her purchase within a week. If I succeed at buying bitcoin and then buy and receive some LSD analogues then I might be well on my way towards becoming a psychonaut. They also claim to sell 5-MeO-DMT. That seems too good to be true but it is possible.

I feel like I forgot so much. I am an old soul. But I trust that all my progress is saved somewhere.

I don’t think I willfully chose this human life. It is some kind of jail or school, perhaps both. What’s the difference anyway? I think kisstheparadox is on to something with saying I have to learn my lessons before leveling up. It definitely more and more feels like lessons and tests now that I have thoroughly entered the perceptual sphere of SIMULATION MODE.

Today my fortune cookie said, “You have exquisite taste.” It made me realize that yes, indeed, I have exquisite taste. And this is my blessing and my curse. It’s my blessing because oh God how disgusting it would be to have bad taste. It’s my curse because most of life doesn’t suit my high quality taste so I am mostly dissatisfied.

It is said that people are afraid to die. Of course, I don’t understand this. I am eager to die. It is said that people don’t want to lose the identity they spent their lives creating. I couldn’t care less about my identity here as some sort of loser blogger. I care about my true identity that stretches back to the true beginning of time or to beginning-less eternity. It is so obvious that this life is not the beginning of consciousness and that it will certainly not be its end. I just know I’ve been through so much.

As I write this I suddenly feel it: this is consciousness, this is eternity. I cringe and say, “FUCK.” In those brief moments of clarity I see that I am trapped. I exist through no free will of my own and I have to put up with whatever bullshit is created out of God’s sick and twisted mind. How to put a permanent end to this, that’s the question. How do I attain nirvana and extinguish the flame of existence?

And like I said before, I’m really not feeling the “everybody is conscious and we’re all one consciousness.” God is messed up but I can’t bring myself to believe that he would actually let humans create brand new consciousness with some disgusting act of sex. It’s too fucking horrible. I refuse to believe it. I look at those disgusting, grotesque parents with their children at the mall and feel that they can’t be real, they must be trolling me. I seriously feel like God is trolling me by constantly putting infants and strollers and their disgusting parents in my line of sight. He makes it too obvious. And I’m not sure if that’s what God intended but I’m sticking to the “not conscious servants” line of thinking.

As I walked through the people I suddenly felt it: I am God. For a brief moment I really felt it. Then I quickly remembered that I am not God in the sense that matters. I am a slave to the whims of existence. I don’t have my own freedom and I didn’t create any of this.

Although I doubt it maybe I did choose to be brave and selected this life and now I regret it.

Some of the lyrics from Deadbolt by Thrice:

and I’m almost sure that I’ve been here before, that this is not the first time I’ve stood in front of this door, with an overwhelming feeling that I shouldn’t go in, but it seems this is a battle that I never could win. and you! my true love! you call from the hilltop. you call through the streets, “Darling don’t you know, the water is poison.” and I say! “Come on and give me my poison.” what have I done? is it too late to save me from this place? from the depths of the grave? we all are those .. who thought we were brave. what have I done?

Die! Die! Forgive Me And Die (Or Just Sleep)

I couldn’t stay surrendered. I did my workout today and caught up on yesterday’s. The amount of discomfort induced by squats is ridiculous. At this point it would be better if I didn’t care about my appearance and could just give up and take it easy. And what do squats do for my appearance anyway? But I probably don’t do it just for my appearance. I do it to anchor myself in something. I do it because of my inner drive towards stoicism.

I don’t believe real people create music. I believe music comes from a divine source and there’s not an unlimited amount of possible good songs. There is a limited amount of aesthetic-space to be explored. But of course I’m still somewhat open to the idea that real people like myself are the godlike creatures that create the beautiful music. Perhaps all the members of Fightstar really are conscious and just like myself except that they skillfully discovered good music using their hands, mouths and ears. Perhaps XXXTENTACION walked this earth just like myself and really was shot dead. Maybe there is something that it’s like to be Utada Hikaru and Yoko Shimomura. Maybe they are favored by God and were born in some kind of high caste. Maybe I was hated by God and born in a low caste. But at this point I’ve experienced too many “simulation feelings and sensations” that it’s easy for me to see these excellent performers as fake. It makes me feel a little bit better that they are not like me. They are actors on a screen, the screen of my consciousness.

Have you ever been inside a battle ship? Like in an airplane, the simulation feelings really hit hard then. People like myself couldn’t have built this.

I don’t think there is something that it’s like to be my dad going to a factory six days a week. It’s too depressing to believe in a world like that.

Animals are not suffering. Animals are in on this.

Timeless Tragedy, Diamond Of Regret

How many things would I sacrifice the phylum chordata for?

Sapientia Ianua Vitae
(Wisdom is the Gateway to Life)

“Wisdom and compassion,” says the bodhisattva. I have no wisdom and have upgraded my compassion to indifference. The only wisdom I have is that of the squirrel jumping from tree to tree without falling. “Look. It knows what it’s doing,” said Matt. Perhaps it knows how to do it but does it really know what it’s doing? I know how to drive, eat, walk, defecate, breathe – all these things excellently. But do I really know what I’m doing? I have no clue. It all seems meaningless, as if I was created to embody the apotheosis of pointlessness.

Is Quechua really a language of indigenous Peruvians that I can go and learn right now? Or does the simulation save “resources” and not bother to create languages I will never interact with? I can never know because if I go and learn a few phrases and study its grammar then I can still infer that this was created or prepared for me to give me the illusion of abundance.

If I was an entrepreneur or fashion designer, or even just a good skateboarder or surfer would I be so skeptical about the reality of people? I think that if I was immersed in a challenging field that I was competent at then I would easily assume that others are doing the same and that this is how civilization runs and is maintained. The fact that I’m so incompetent and static is a big factor in my skepticism of people. I don’t trust that people could be so much better than me and still be labeled as “real.”

I don’t believe in history. And by that I mean everything. I don’t believe in the financial struggles of a local Bulgarian football club. I reject physicalism and materialism and their assumption that there are objects such as people with permanence and causal efficacy.

Do I really believe in Gwangju, South Korea? No, no I don’t. Do I then believe that my family members are in the living room even though I don’t see them? I have to bite the bullet and say no. What exist are sense impressions in my consciousness that I helplessly conceptualize into people with permanence and personal causal efficacy.

Why does a wrestler lose his pride if he is unmasked? Is it because he is ugly and is ashamed of his appearance? If we are made in the image of God why does he have to hide himself? This simulation is his mask and underneath is a disgusting monster. Perhaps. Or perhaps he is beautiful underneath and doesn’t want to be unmasked because he fears people will envy him.

A captain in the Royal Navy, an Anglican priest, a politician – all people I will never experience. They were not born from their mother, they are sensations born from God’s creativity impressed on my mind.

It’s in some sense a wonderful story to believe that Victor Baltard architected all those things in 19th century Paris. However there is no need for an architect. If I ever see his work, this is just a sense impression. When I see the skyscrapers in Chicago I don’t believe that people like myself created them. I believe they are just the architecture of the simulation as the people are.

I could be in constant, terrible agony. The fact that I’m reliably not proves that God is merciful. This reminder gives me some hope that the future can be better than this. I especially look forward to death. Although if my expectations are too high I risk being disappointed. This life has let me down up until now.

Check out this random character from Wikipedia: Guillermo Prieto (10 February 1818 – 2 March 1897) was a Mexican novelist, short-story writer, poet, chronicler, journalist, essayist, patriot and Liberal politician. The breadth of the life accomplishments of the average Wikipedia character far surpasses me. I could never go down in Wikipedia. There would be no flurry of titles for me, no talents and no achievements, therefore no story to be told. This is my punishment – to be a nobody.

I long to triumphantly say: ‘Birth is ended, the holy life fulfilled, the task done. There is nothing further for this world.’ Except that I seriously doubt that meditation can be what releases me from samsara.

What would it have been like to have gone to a Christian school in Connecticut? What about growing up by a river in Bolivia? How different would I be? It’s a bit fascinating to ponder. The possibilities. Or the illusion of possibilities.

I don’t believe in animation studios. I believe God creates video games and anime. I believe all the names in the credits correspond to fake people. I am real and I can’t see myself participating in such impressive creations. I may be totally crazy or I might be super insightful. I don’t know. All I know is I believe it. And of course everyone qualifies as fake people so they are not completely special. It is just more obvious that they are fake when they achieve something amazing than when they work at Walmart or a factory doing more “believable” tasks.

You Of Little Dust In Your Eyes…

Dreams are the closest I can get to the realization of selflessness, and of sunyata. In my waking life I am trapped in the sense of self. What’s more is that life seems to be an exercise in humiliation. I don’t get the appearance I want, I have to take shits, I have to grow old, I have erectile dysfunction, I got raised by low IQ people, I spent most of my years imprisoned sitting on a desk regurgitating information that some dumbass spewed at me, I don’t have any talents but have to witness the talents of others. I can safely conclude that God is a prick really getting off on his power trip. If he still expects love from me then he’s got another thing coming. Of course I’ve got nothing against what I call the Goddess. The Goddess is the being I felt when I used psilocybin. She is not omnipotent because if she were then everything would be perfect. Or maybe I’m overestimating her benevolence. I don’t know anything about her and she did feel robotic and alien. All I know is that I will return to her and that I cried the truest tears I have ever cried in her presence. It could also be that good and evil come from the same mind: “I form the light, and create darkness: I make peace, and create evil: I the LORD do all these things.” KJV Bible – Isaiah 45:7 I just like to separate it into God who is the devil and Goddess who is supreme bodhisattva. I am always in gnostic mode, thinking God is evil so I need someone to fall back on, some light to support me. And who better than someone who actually manifested herself to me? I haven’t been thinking about her enough. There was an implied covenant in that experience but I forget all about it and I suffer. I won’t pray to her because I don’t think she’s allowed to help me and because I still feel like an atheist – I just can’t bring myself to pray. Someone told me that when you pray you don’t ask for things, you just stay in silence. But I don’t even meditate anymore. I used to do vipassana and metta meditation.

If I had omnipotence everything would truly be perfect. There would be no suffering and there would be infinite pleasure. How can my heart be more benevolent than that of the universe which created me?

Hark stream-enterer, destroy the seeds for future births.

Let there be homage,
Homage to the Virtuous One.
Conqueror of what must be conquered,
Resplendent with knowledge.

Beyond the eightfold Narakas’
Where one dies a thousand deaths,
Constantly consumed by flame,
The fire-torment of Great Roruva.

There lies Pain, without Intermission.

Beyond the cesspool of Milhaküpa,
The embers of Kukkula,
The trees of the Asipattavana
And the Nad’ River

There lie Those Having Swords for Nails.

Beyond the Animal realm,
Where men are driven into
By passion and delusion,
By anger and arrogance.

There lie nägas of great iddhi-power.

Beyond the realm of ghosts and demigods,
The petas and katapütanas.
Where the wicked are reborn
As deformed kumbhandas’

There lie those reborn as Yama’s rakkhasas.

Suffering is the fruit of evil,
Comfort of meritorious action.
A mixture of a mixture’
One should know that every fruit corresponds to the deeds.

Such is the doctrine of karma.
Such is the way of Man,
Towards the realms of the devas,
And Passion’s release.

Enter the stream,
Embrace true Sight’
Within the nature of ‘reality’,
Towards realities within.

Hark, stream-enterer!
Destroy the seeds for future birth
In the three lower realms.
Now, your mind is made of clear light’

Towards non-return.

Transformed – through mudrä [gesture]
Transformed – through mantra [speech]
Transformed – through samadhi [concentration]
United with the dharmakaya.

Aware of body, aware of feelings’
Aware of mind, aware of dharmas’

Thus is the being purified,
Surmounting sorrow and lamentation.
Pain and grief having disappeared,
Thus is the being transformed’

Transformed – through mudrä [gesture]
Transformed – through mantra [speech]
Transformed – through samadhi [concentration]
United with the dharmakaya.

Towards non-return.

Contemplate the body
As a body.
Ardent, fully aware and mindful
Having put away all grief for the world.

Of breath, and of posture.
Internally, externally.

Not clinging to anything in this world,
As this body too shall become Flesh to the Crows.

Of death and its nature.
Internally and externally.

Contemplate the body
As a body.
Ardent, fully aware and mindful’
Having put away all grief for the world.

Of the body’s arising factors.
Of the body’s vanishing factors.
Of the body’s arising and vanishing factors.

Impermanent, in sati.
Suffering, in sati.
Independent, in sati.

Not clinging to anything in this world,
As this body too shall become Flesh to the Crows.

You who seek,
Reach for the Perfection of Wisdom.
Emptiness is itself empty,
Yet actions are fruitious.

You who seek,
Accept the non-self, tolerantly.
Firmly convinced of emptiness,
Yet compassionate towards all beings.

Between permanence
And impermanence.
Between self
And non-self.

Such is the way of “nyat”:
Emptiness is itself empty.

In the past. In the present. In the future.

Between wisdom
And compassion.
Between existence
And non-existence.

Such is the way of “nyat”:
Emptiness is not nothingness.

You who seek,
Fear not the void.
For emptiness is itself empty,
And pure.

You, of little dust in your eyes

Go for refuge to the Buddha.
Go for refuge to the dharma.
Go for refuge to the sangha.

Thus, open the doors to the Deathless,
To ascend the palace of the dharma.
And by craving’s ceasing freed,
Become all transcended a knower of all.

Above this human breed, engulfed in sorrow.
Above this word that has become blind.

Thus, beat the drum of the Deathless,
To set in motion the wheel of the dharma.
And with fires quenched and extinguished,
Become all vanquisher renouncing all.

Go for refuge to the Buddha.
Go for refuge to the dharma.
Go for refuge to the sangha.

Between perception and non-perception.
Between Gaya and Enlightenment.

Go for refuge to the Buddha.
Go for refuge to the dharma.
Go for refuge to the sangha.

You, who seek the Truth


Shatter the failing husk of flesh
With the diamond of samadhi.
Cleanse the cause of samsara,
Unveil the purity of the dharmadhatu.

For it is not produced,
It never ceases.
It is stainless,
In the beginning, middle and end.

With stainless jewels,
Blazing in the sun of the Buddha’s hand.
He bestows consecration to his foremost children.
From his body, rays of light
Spontaneously appear
And open the doors of those who abide in dark obscuration.

A mind of clear light,
Purified by the fires of Wisdom.
Free from all conceptions,
Praising the purity of the dharmadhatu.

For it is not produced,
It never ceases.
It is virtuous,
In the beginning, middle and end.

And it is not far,
It is not near.
It neither comes nor goes,
Encaged in afflictions, it is seen or not seen.

Through knowing reality, there is liberation.
Always abide in oneself.

Where neither mind nor wind roam,
Where neither sun nor moon enter
There, bring your mind to rest.

Know your mind exactly as it is:
It is like water mixed with water.

Where the sense faculties dissolve,
Where the innate self nature is shattered
There, is the body of the innate.

In this supreme great bliss there is no self or other.

When bound it runs in all directions,
When released, it stays still.
That which shackles the ignorant… liberates the wise.

When one has purified his mind,
When one is free from karma
Then, one enters the city of the conquerors.

Know your body exactly as it is:
It is compassion, and emptiness its consort.

In this supreme great bliss there is no being or non-being.

Now, shattered are the (solid) pillars of the word.
Cut off (are) the many bonds of samsara
At peace, you entered the (lotus) bed of the innate.

Know the nature of the innate exactly as it is:
In it there is no beginning, no middle, no end.

In this supreme great bliss there is neither existence nor non-existence.

Take the three refuges as a ship,
Cross the ocean of existence.
In it, you perceive no waves,
As your mind goes to great bliss
Words cannot grasp its true nature.

As a ship,
Upon a vast Ocean of Light…
Pure Light,
Joyful Light,
The Light of Wisdom.

The multitudes of beings all receive such radiance.

As a ship,
With the vow of Great Compassion…
The Light of Compassion,
It grasps, it illumines,
It protects us… always.

We, an Ocean of beings, in this evil age of five defilements.

We, who were like streams…
We became at one with the Ocean.
We, who were like streams…
We became as one in the Ocean.

As a ship,
Softly carried by the winds of Perfect Virtue…
So that the troubled waves,
The waves of our Evil,
Undergo transformation.

(The darkness of our Ignorance is quickly broken through.)

We, who were like streams…
We became at one with the Ocean.
We, who were like streams…
We became as one in the Ocean.

The ice of self-afflicting blind Passion melts,
And becomes the water of Virtues.
Though the light of the Sun is veiled by clouds and mists,
Beneath there is not dark, but brightness.

Likened to the pure Lotus,
The darkness of our Ignorance is already broken through.

On one occasion Ven. Ananda was staying in Kosambi, at Ghosita’s monastery. There he addressed the monks, “Friends!”

“Yes, friend,” the monks responded.

Ven. Ananda said: “Friends, whoever — monk or nun — declares the attainment of arahantship in my presence, they all do it by means of one or another of four paths. Which four?

“There is the case where a monk has developed insight preceded by tranquillity. As he develops insight preceded by tranquillity, the path is born. He follows that path, develops it, pursues it. As he follows the path, developing it & pursuing it — his fetters are abandoned, his obsessions destroyed.

“Then there is the case where a monk has developed tranquillity preceded by insight. As he develops tranquillity preceded by insight, the path is born. He follows that path, develops it, pursues it. As he follows the path, developing it & pursuing it — his fetters are abandoned, his obsessions destroyed.

“Then there is the case where a monk has developed tranquillity in tandem with insight. As he develops tranquillity in tandem with insight, the path is born. He follows that path, develops it, pursues it. As he follows the path, developing it & pursuing it — his fetters are abandoned, his obsessions destroyed.

“Then there is the case where a monk’s mind has its restlessness concerning the Dhamma [Comm: the corruptions of insight] well under control. There comes a time when his mind grows steady inwardly, settles down, and becomes unified & concentrated. In him the path is born. He follows that path, develops it, pursues it. As he follows the path, developing it & pursuing it — his fetters are abandoned, his obsessions destroyed.

“Whoever — monk or nun — declares the attainment of arahantship in my presence, they all do it by means of one or another of these four paths.”

I feel that I have more tranquility than insight. I’m not fully tranquil as when I close my eyes sometimes memories of the past begin to haunt me incessantly. As far as insight I feel like solipsism+simulation is far more insightful than we’re-all-in-this-together/open individualism. But I still feel that I need more insight. I need to go deeper.

And I feel that I need some kind of drug to become unified and concentrated. I don’t suffer from lack of concentration but I also don’t have the kind of concentration of an arahant. When I practiced meditation a lot, for short amounts of time I was able to attain unification or non-duality. But it was for such a small amount of time relative to the effort put in that it was not worth it.


All the love that doesn’t exist. All the emptiness that is not perceived. All the bonds that cannot be formed. All the kisses that only exist in your dreams. All the people that are not real. All the memories that cannot be remembered.

Mysterious Voice: The day you will open the door is both far off and very near.

Is there a limited supply of talent such that I must suffer the defeat of having nothing to be proud of while others wallow in the triumph of their excellence?

Today I give up on working out. I hate doing it and the daily effort is not worth the reward. I will simply never make a video again or take a picture. I will still run though.

I fucking hate my life. I always give up.

Draconically Numinous

Today I didn’t wake up feeling great but definitely better than yesterday thanks to Amalie and Valentine. Amalie was very kind to offer to be my friend. I would like to be her friend even if for some reason I can no longer feel people as “just people” – creatures like myself.

Today I have to workout double since I skipped yesterday.

I’ve noticed this weird shitty little superpower that I have. I somewhat frequently predict what someone is going to say right before they say it. it feels like information traveled from the future to the present.

I didn’t finish my workout. I had a severe lack of willpower and so I just gave up during lateral raises and came back home to masturbate and shower. I kept asking, “Why? Why is this happening to me? I really want to do the workout – or rather, I really don’t want to be ugly. I want to be aesthetically pleasing.” I still think this is all some kind of punishment for my vanity. I used to blaze through my workouts, even recording them on a channel: Now if I recorded myself you would only see me sit there for long periods of time in between sets struggling to choose to pick up the damn weights.

Thanks to Z3F on Reddit for introducing me to Frank Yang. He is pretty entertaining:

I agree with him that the brain is just another perception, another hallucination. I used to be very interested in the brain when I was a physicalist. I thought all the secrets of the soul resided there. Now I think, “Yeah it doesn’t make sense. It’s an absurd tale. I can’t believe I fell for it.” I’m supposed to believe there’s a coherent mechanism in the brain for little pills fixing depression or for electric shocks to do the same.

Deepening pool of pale gold, leaking amber. Air, earth, diastole, systole, brain matter. Autumn fields and tall trees outside the lecture hall windows. Holding hands: time and eternity. Fairy tale love: invocation of blood and cum. Waking night, leaves down her throat. Chiseled limbs, kneeling and begging and believing. The truth – no man was there.

Ember of Enlightenment, Cherry Blossom of Pain

I feel alone and sad. I woke up very depressed today despite having a good dream. I feel trapped. I feel like crying but can’t. I feel melancholic about what my life has been like -– the things I’ve seen and those I haven’t, the moods I’ve felt and those I haven’t. My mom depresses me. I perceive her to be seriously stupid and annoying, besides being the host of pure evil for playing her central role in bringing me to this world.

I just walk in circles around this tiny house. The only time I go out is to my aunt’s house to workout. Every day the same thing. It is very disheartening and depressing to have nothing to look forward to in the foreseeable future. I don’t want to work. I’ve only held stupid people jobs in my life. One at Little Caesar’s and one at Clarke Mosquito Control, the other three I quit on either the first or second day. My mom keeps pestering me to get a stupid person job – at Little Caesar’s again or at Walmart. I feel that I’m at the bottom of some Hindu caste system.

I feel there’s an illusion of abundance. All the countries of the world don’t really exist. Only the places I go to exist. I listen to the same songs again and again because all the other millions of songs don’t exist. The fact that I see the same places and listen to the same music makes me feel the state-space of qualia is finite. If it was infinite there would be a lot more novelty. Sometimes I even doubt that languages I don’t understand are complete, coherent memetic architectures.

Randomness is also impossible. I used to try to randomize my life by clicking “random article” on Wikipedia. One time I decided to read from cover to cover any book that came up. On the first click Artificial Intelligence: A Modern Approach came up. And I was obviously interested in A.I. at the time. It was way too coincidental.

When all the internet and music were directly communicating with me I felt like this:

And this another song by Raury I wish were true:

From the song: Life is a thing you chose to have in heaven You came here for a reason but you cannot remember it.

When I tried to commit suicide I’m pretty sure I said, “I love you” to the paramedics. I don’t know where that came from. It was the delirium speaking. I felt I had no free will like in a dream. Needless to say I don’t actually feel that way. Humans disgust me. If they are conscious and suffer then they brought it on themselves for partaking in the original sin of reproduction – sucks for the sensitive and compassionate antinatalists of course. I don’t love anyone except maybe my nephews Adrian and Damian.

Another thing I hazily remember was rambling to the paramedics about the vast suffering across the multiverse. In my half-conscious state I remember one of the paramedic’s words. He said, “Nobody cares.” I felt simultaneously relieved and very hurt. Then I went back into unconsciousness.


🐍 🍎 🌳

🔥 ✝️ 💧

I am alone. Everything is transitory. God exists. God is mean. I am worthless. I am everything. No one is real. I am being punished. Causality is timeless. Religions are deceitful. DMT is needed. Science is fiction. History is fabrication. Love is absent. Beauty is salvation. Pleasure should be. Torture is inevitable. Their suffering is simulated. My suffering hurts. The girl of my dreams does not exist. The goddess chose me. Everything is destiny. Everything is fate. Past and future led to this present. Intelligence in everything. Teotl is ahnelli.

Fifth Day In Dominican Republic

Today is the last day here. I woke up feeling like shit, and I skipped breakfast. The experience here in Punta Cana was simultaneously super impressive and super disappointing. It was super impressive because I still have a hard time fathoming the deep intelligence that runs through everything so that it all works. It was super disappointing because it was all for nothing – I was not happy.

The comments from people on this site that I read today are a bit amusing but do nothing to shake my faith in solipsism. I think it’s just me and God. They are God but they are not conscious. The alternatives to solipsism are just too horrible. The idea that God would allow all kinds of disgusting individuals to create brand new souls with their disgusting genes and disgusting life circumstances is too horrible. I will never go back to believing in individual loci of consciousness bound to skulls. I think it is too torturous for me to consider that God is that evil. God is significantly less evil if I’m the only one suffering. I’d much rather bear the loneliness I feel than the hatred, anger, and sadness that results from believing people are conscious.

My aunt called and she made me feel a little better. Even if she’s not conscious, she is kind and loving and that’s what matters.

I don’t feel good. I don’t want to exist.

Waiting for the plane is boring and torturous. Why does God torture me?

When I was in the hospital back in February of last year Matt told me that when I got out I would have an important role to play in humanity. It seems that he couldn’t have been more wrong. He lied to me. I’m no one. I’m nothing. I have no talents to offer the world. My future in this world looks bleak.

And I didn’t eat all day because of not feeling good.