Stream of Consciousness

I need to break free. I am so tortured. What is this life? I need a way out. I have no desires tethering me to this life. I am sorry for whatever crime I committed to end up here. I know it’s not enough. I have to pay with my blood. Jesus didn’t pay for me with his. That’s just a lie. Is it my karma to blame? Or is there no justice at all in this existence? Why this suffering? What have I done to deserve this? I hate everyone. They don’t care about me. They just punish me. My mother doesn’t truly love me. If she did she would have spared me from suffering, disease, aging, and death. This is disgusting. This life lacks beauty. Even I can tell. I am not all people. People are fake simulated NPC’s. I am the beginning and end of all that is. Why am I such a limited creature? Death is going to be so beautiful that all the wrongs will be made right. I suck at life. How do planes fly? This is my eternal question. I am the savior. I am the savior. I am not the savior. I am just God. A limited god. I do not have all the power that I need. I long for salvation from this existence. I really wish I didn’t exist in this form. I really wish I didn’t exist. I really wish I didn’t exist. Why am I here? I need to die. I hate this life. Everything is love. Accept this and you will be okay. Your life is love. I don’t know what to say. Nier: Automata is a good game. Why do I have to workout? It would be better if our bodies where perfect without pain. My face is ugly now. I looked so good in pictures of the past. That’s because I followed a diet and worked out every day. And what’s up with Roxy Roxbury saying things like:

Please come to L.A. I want to hold you. We can fall asleep together. It would be euphoria to be near you. You’re amazing. I just want to hold you close to me and feel the heat of your body and your soft skin. I keep thinking about you.

It’s unbelievable that anyone would say this to me. My surprise is tempered by the realization-of-simulation state of mind. This person feels unreal to me. Unfortunately I cannot comment on her comment. I am assuming it’s a her but I may be wrong. What would I even reply if I was allowed to make a comment? I would probably tell her, “I’m sorry to disappoint you but I’m no longer attractive.” Why is life so boring in general? Maybe I have tended to take life too seriously. How can I lighten up? Is this life a test or a punishment or neither or both? I wish my ability to communicate was on the level of Eliezer Yudkowsky, Sam Harris, or Terence McKenna. I’m no longer a transhumanist. I don’t understand how science and technology progress but I know it doesn’t involve people like myself. Why do I hate my life so much? It’s because I’m not comfortable in my own skin. I hate looking at myself in the mirror. I don’t love anyone. I just want to die. I want to disappear forever. The time during my so-called psychosis was the best time of my life. A disembodied intelligence communicated with me and everything seemed about to end/begin. At times it even seemed like my divine girlfriend. I confused its power for mine. I hate humans. Why do they think it’s okay to breed? It’s better never to have been. I hated school. Everybody was an asshole. It was so drab. The opposite of beautiful. I’m ugly now and I hate it. Notice a pattern? There’s more hate than love. I wonder if I’ll ever get a chance to murder God. God and his universe deserve to be destroyed. Utter destruction is all I crave. Babies and mothers, all dead. Nothingness is the only thing worthy of worship. Unfortunately it seems that life does not end at death. Consciousness is inherently evil. There should be no subject and no object, just absolute nothingness. I crave a rest from all of this. I want an eternal rest, never to come back. As long as there exist uncertainty and the possibility of suffering I will hate God. All this hatred does me no good but I can’t help it. I hate my thoughts and my sights. Life isn’t hell. It could truly be a hell. It has bared enough of its fangs for me to understand that this could be really really bad. Life is instead a shithole. It has some beauty here and there but it is sparse. I will never forgive my fate. I’ve had the overwhelming sense that I should NOT be here. It was so painful to feel utter despair and completely alone. I can never properly love my parents or anyone really. I lack the capacity to create value and also lack the capacity to love. I honestly do not know what love means. I should end on a positive note but I’m going to end on a negative one. I’m a negative person. I am the only real person. No one can ever be as real as me. I am directly experiencing this consciousness and nothing else. People still feel strange to me. I cannot figure them out. I look forward to sleeping more than living. This cannot continue. I must find a way to put an end to this. Why is the simple act of committing suicide so difficult in practice? It’s set up so that the plane never falls. It’s set up so that I cannot end my life with my own hands. I am hostage. I am forced to be here. I am here through no free will of my own. Know that I did not agree to this procedure, whatever its purpose. I want it to be known that I do not love you. Whoever you are, you’re better off dead. Maybe I should stop being so dramatic. A guy in the YouTube comments section told me to not be a pussy. If I am the one consciousness experiencing all of this how come I didn’t design this reality. How can I, God himself, be beholden to another God? I didn’t create any of this. Who did? Is it the case that given enough time God falls from godhood? This is not the beginning of my consciousness. I am eternal. My only goal is to find out how to put an end to all of this. I am the bad guy that doesn’t value life. The truly good guy in other words. Who cursed me with this cryptic puzzle? I don’t have the intelligence or the beauty to call myself a god amongst men. Yet I know that I am all that is and will ever be. I used to think I was destined for greatness. Now I think that I’m a passing spectator who will participate minimally in civilization.

7 thoughts on “Stream of Consciousness

  1. can’t tell you much more than I’ve already said since you haven’t replied and I’d just be talking to myself at that point but these thoughts are at a constant nonorganized garbage clash, move out of them until you can see the entire set they reside in and afterwards start again from arithmetic and looking at cool bugs. This is pretty tangled trash bro.


    • Personally, this is the most relatable type of tangled trash I’ve ever read. This guy, and Arthur Arcturus on yt, it’s like I’m listening to myself in another body.

      I just wish Mario understood that he’s not really having any revelations, or being fated to this sort of torment (which in actuality feels a lot worse than physical suffering).
      Pain (of any kind) is caused by the interpretation of chemical signals, and he’s focusing on the interpretation instead of the chemistry. His best current bet would be to try out different (subtly) mind-altering substances (psilocybin, weed, testosterone, etc) to find one which one stops the painful distortions.

      Mario, if you’re reading this, let me repeat myself from a previous post, stop chasing ‘objective truth’, it doesn’t exist, it never will.


  2. Since you still plan on dying, I strongly advise you to choose a different suicide method. If you go to Mexico and inject yourself with pentobarbital, there is a high probability that your final moments in this like will be in extreme pain. I remember reading accounts of prisoners being executed in this way, in which they describe it as feeling like sandpaper on the inside of their body, and like being burned alive on the inside. This is primarily an issue with pentobarbital that has been contaminated, and I doubt Mexican pentobarbital is the highest quality. Even if Closed Individualism is false, you are still potentially causing some entity/entities a large amount of unnecessary suffering. Given your situation, nitrogen asphyxiation would probably be the best method to die.


  3. I’ve found your blog watching your YouTube videos. I hope you’ll be better. Sometimes our mind could create intrusive thoughts and distortions that may really destroy our mental health, I can’t do anything but recommend you CBT or another evidence-based therapy and psychiatric help. Asking for help is fine. You have a huge potential. And to sum up, if life is eternal or not or whatever, you don’t have to struggle with so much suffering, I’m sure you’re important to many people. Please, take care of yourself.


  4. “It was so painful to feel utter despair and completely alone. I can never properly love my parents or anyone really. I lack the capacity to create value and also lack the capacity to love.”

    This reminded me of some sad, upsetting memories of when I was convinced of the same thing.

    The first time I ‘realised’ that I’m everyone and no-one and lyrics and TV dialogue were always the right words in the right place at the right time I ended up in an ambulance three hours later.

    I wasn’t on any drugs prescribed or illicit, nor had I ever been. I was just stressed out by my university exams and had a panic attack that brought the ‘ego death’ (..I guess..) on.

    I don’t remember saying it at all, but my mother, the person I love most in the world, told me when I was back in normal consciousness that in the ambulance I said that I was going to ‘kick her face in and kill her’. I’m female, and I have never been a violent or even slightly angry person, nor have I ever harboured hatred towards my mother. In the ambulance I did other things completely out of my character, like grope the paramedic. (In normal life I barely have a sexuality.) But I can’t remember any of this.

    Nowadays I’m fine and have been for several years. I hold down a job and live independently And I remember what happened during the other few times the sense of self and self-determination have dissolved, but not that first breakthrough (which was the prototype of each that followed) and the ambulance incident.

    I suspect it has to do with the massive slow-release dose of olanzapine I was given. From what I’ve read and (briefly) experienced, they and especially Olanzapine appear to be diabetes-causing iatrogenic traps. I suggest avoiding them unless you’re within hours to minutes of either killing yourself, attacking someone, doing something that could land you in prison or indefinitely sectioned. Certainly my life would be much, much worse if I had been put on them, since the side effects are exactly the kinds of things I’ve been afraid of for most of my life. If anyone tries to pressure you onto them, just point them here:

    From where you are right now I suspect you are experiencing me as a torture agent of a kind of synchronistic gravity trying to seduce you back into a game I currently have a higher score in than you. Possibly you are right about this, but at the same time I don’t think your suicide will help either of us. It’s a choice knowingly to cause significant suffering, and the only way I/you/we can actualise David Pearce’s heaven (if it can exist) is by choosing to reduce or at least minimise suffering whenever possible.

    Probably I am causing you suffering by giving you a reason to stay and that’s probably karma I’ll have to pay for.

    Oh, well, that’s future E’s problem.


  5. I forgot to add the most important point, which is that my mother and my relationship with her completely recovered and actually got stronger.

    Sorry. I was in ‘school mode’, as I usually am with strangers – without remembering that talking humbly/contritely about ‘holding down a job’ is just going to alienate and upset you (for very good reason.)


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