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: https://m.youtube.com/channel/UCzuwHaHrA7_ClPjfeiVj1yQ 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: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=h9mSLksZLqQ https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=M4_kJiu2RiE

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: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Bh1XRH4HrOY

And this another song by Raury I wish were true: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=rMJUNyFZysw

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.

Fourth Day In Dominican Republic

Seeing all people as my direct and indirect servants who are not real like me does help. It doesn’t help with my loneliness but it helps with not feeling that this universe is so evil. It is perhaps a mean prankster but not pure evil the way it would be if people were real. I’ll make that trade any day – to sacrifice the conscious reality of humankind in order to attain peace of mind. And it’s not just all the shootings and stabbings that I can’t believe in, I also cannot believe that conscious people like myself are capable of the level of performance that they achieve. So that trade balances out my luck on the one hand and my misfortune on the other (“Luckily” I’ve never experienced serious violence and “unluckily” I’ve never experienced what it’s like to perform at a high level on something.) I don’t believe in luck. I think everything is destined/set up to be the way it is. I think the generalizable principle is not that I’m lucky. I think the generalizable principle is that the universe doesn’t allow for discomfort or evil beyond that which I have experienced. Therefore people who claim that they themselves or others have experienced great evil are lying. They claim to not be philosophical zombies but I don’t believe them. Yet I still try to not feel bad about kids, all of whom are being raised to be slaves. It’s a bit difficult to not attribute consciousness to something that looks like myself but I’m getting better at it. I already do not feel any consciousness from people commenting on this site or my YouTube channel or sending me messages. But I still have to practice with faces in person.

The fact that everything works so well is divine, it is magical how causality just unfolds in such a way that people’s collective behavior leads to this hotel and these streets and everything else that fundamentally functions. What distresses me is the question of what it’s all for. All this “effort” for what? I’m not happy. So if it was an honest attempt to make me happy then it failed. But I feel that it was not an honest attempt. After understanding its power I no longer believe in accidents. It could give me true paradise but it gives me this makeshift parody of paradise instead because it deliberately chooses to punish me.

Oh and my new thinking does work like a charm. I passed by a woman with her infant on a stroller and I thought, “They’re not real. They’re my servants.” And no more anger and sadness. They’re just not real and that’s something I have to learn. No one is truly reading this site except for me. I may get a tiny few reactions but these only exist for me. And it’s always the universe speaking to me, never independent skin-bound souls.

I’ve seen quite a few fit guys however I have not seen any hot Dominican or tourist women. Beauty truly is scarce in this world. My mom says God made everyone beautiful. I strongly disagree.

I saw a boat that said, “Para todos sale el sol.” Then I saw a baby. This made me think if heaven was guaranteed for everyone, would it be moral to bring people into this world? I think the answer depends on how good heaven is and how long it takes to get there. Will it be immediately after death? Will there be ten or a hundred more lives and deaths? Will there only be a bardo state for some time before entrance is allowed? Is it painful purgatory instead? How painful? Depending on the answers to these questions the answer may be yes or no.

The day was uneventful. I worked out and I ate and I walked.

Third Day In Dominican Republic

I woke up kind of down today. I looked down from the balcony and there was a father with his two young daughters feeding the water fowl. I couldn’t help but feel the presence of a tremendous evil in him. What could he be thinking when he decided to bring them to this world? Then I felt the reminder that they are not like me. They are actors in an elaborate movie and I am the real spectator sitting outside the movie in the theater.

When I came out of eating at the buffet there was a guy with a shirt that said “If it’s not free it’s not worth it.” I’m not exactly sure what that meant to convey to me if anything.

It really fucks with me when people are walking with little kids. It doesn’t make sense. Why would they do this?

A Dominican girl told my mom she wants to meet me after having seen me walking with her. She is described as 27, small, skinny, and pretty. I will not meet with her because my mom is known to have bad taste and what she calls pretty may not be pretty to me. I don’t want to gamble with that sort of thing. And the other reason is because I wouldn’t know what to say because I am reticent in person.

After my workout I had a haircut. It was depressing on two fronts. One was my appearance in front of the mirror. I’m not satisfied with how my face looks. The consolation I had was that perhaps somewhere down the line after death(s) I will unlock the ability to choose my own appearance. The second and most depressing thing was that the woman cutting my hair was a natalist who had a daughter. My mom told her I didn’t want kids because I thought they would suffer. She laughed and said, “like you’ve suffered a lot.” I didn’t say anything. Maybe I haven’t suffered a lot but I’ve suffered enough to know I wouldn’t want to inflict any of it on another person. She said that maybe I’d change my ideology when I fell in love. I just stayed quiet and felt very depressed.

Seeing parents with their kids still affected me way more than it should. The universe sent stroller after stroller to piss me off. I think it’s trying to get me to learn a lesson. The lesson is that people don’t matter. It doesn’t matter if they breed. They can breed all they want. They are all my slaves. They are created to provide me with products and services. I was engaging with this thing all wrong – digging myself into a ditch of empathy. I’m not supposed to feel empathy. I’m supposed to sit back and enjoy the ride provided by this super organism of servants. That’s it. That’s got to be it. I laugh a little in relief.

Second Day In Dominican Republic

There are flamingos, ducks, herons, and peacocks and no excrement. It doesn’t make any sense. Are these animals from the Garden of Eden? No one is quickly cleaning up after them. There is just literally no excrement. My mom says they were trained to only defecate in the water. I don’t know how that would be possible, but then again, I don’t know how anything else of this is possible. I don’t understand how in the morning a man climbed up and down a palm tree with only a rope even though I watched him climb down.

I was getting hit by waves in the ocean and I was thinking about how the people around me couldn’t possibly be real, and I tried to tell myself I wasn’t lonely. I tried to come up with language that could describe how I feel about people and I settled on this: people are not individual spectators like myself, they are God’s appendages in the same way that the waves are and in the same way the hotel is. As usual I try not to look at them.

I thought about how every little sensation in the water, and every little motion, were designed. The fact that every single trivial little experience was planned that way is mind blowing. But the question always arises: why put so much “effort” into creating this as opposed to anything else? – if you can do all this you can clearly create a conscious paradise.

Oh yeah and some people took some pictures of me with two macaws. I would have enjoyed it if I was fit like I used to be but because I don’t like my appearance I didn’t enjoy it. And I find it painfully ironic that I put so much effort into working out but I can’t even call myself a bodybuilder.

Some guy gave me a necklace. He said it was called the Buddha “something, something” from the Dominican Republic. He motioned it to both my shoulders then to my genitals, and wished me a long life. He said, “you get a lot of girls right? Do you have a girlfriend?” I replied, “No.” He motioned toward the necklace.

People on TV look especially simulated. A laughing jester appeared on the background of a talk show. People like myself did not create the cartoons. The cartoons are absurd and pointless content in my consciousness. Or perhaps they have hidden messages. I really suspect they have hidden messages. I’m always trying to listen to the universe. But I wonder if when I’m done with this life I will get a replay where I actually see all the meanings revealed. As I’m writing this a jester appeared on Scooby Doo just as my mom turned the channel before turning it off. This gives me a strong reminder of fate. This is all set up. That demon at Dr. Miller’s had said I had a delusion, emphasizing DELUSION, that it was all contrived. Or maybe that doctor wasn’t a demon, just a very annoying jester.

I feel that devilish, jester-ish vibe from people strolling with their infants. The whole concept pisses me off so the universe is deliberately trying to trigger me. And it’s so surreal to think that all that had to happen was somebody had to cum inside that ugly lady for the poor brat to be walking around here and now. And what pisses me off is how dignified the parents act, as if they know completely what they’re doing. If people are conscious then it is clear under a negative utilitarian framework that it is far, far worse, unforgivably worse, to give birth to a child than almost anything else you do in your life. Assuming people are conscious, you are either creating a brand new consciousness or adding to the experiential space of the open individualism single consciousness. But given what a random human experience is possibly actually like, this is just pure evil. Yet they smile, and pick them up, and take pictures, and hold their hand, and kneel down to talk to them. It makes me sick. They wear this mask to hide their true face, that of an insensate, terrible demon. And just as I finish writing this I walk and see a couple with their baby passing by. I laugh. And just as I finish writing this, another one. I look up and another. That’s three in a row. I laugh again. I don’t want to look up from my phone for fear I might see another one. Okay looks like the torture is over for now, but only for now. And if you wonder why it bothers me so much even if I don’t believe people are conscious then I think it’s the uncertainty. I grew up believing people were conscious and if they are then I find myself in a terrible, horrifying world – it is horrible beyond comprehension. And that’s whether closed individualism or open individualism is true. But because I’m selfish it is especially bad if it is open. Oh God! It is too fucking horrible. Someone sitting in front of me has a shirt with INRI and thorns. I hate Jesus. He didn’t die for my sins. In any case I am Jesus… or Lucifer since they are the same character. They both try to become God and are thrown into some kind of hell for it. The difference is Jesus succeeds and Lucifer doesn’t.