Mike must be the man he betrayed, and keeping updated on his life on a dead, old desire for revenge is pretty funny when you accept that he clearly will probably never do anything about it…?

Clever hahahaha

Flattery?

Thank you, not that you’ll accept the gratitude, but that I appreciate your defense. It helped more than I know, but I know I felt relief.

Thank you.

For the 5th time reading this, sincerely, “ouch.” - me

03:12

Power lies in paths realized, expressed in terms of interaction, created in the safety of a human mind.

The mind implies the brain, but what most forget is that it also includes the body. The body speaks as you.

But power lies in relationships and your place in them. The “bodies,” outside of you interact in very complex ways. The “body,” within, though?

Now that I question with such text, I answer in passion. I want this passion to be visible, for that sake I dream of making an interface to write.

I’ll make it on Linux, accessible by command line, but I’ll make it accessible with a GUI as well.

First comes the gui, not in code but in formulation of a place for me to write freely.

“Frame of reference is the necessary difference for separation to exist.” - me, now.

How audacious, to write my thoughts on such a way. Contagiously, is my hope in that question with no question mark.

Who cares what I have to say, when it’s nothing but pseudo-intellectual bullshit.

Alas! I’ve found a target I would not mind exposing to this utter bullshit that is my soul right now.

You! I ask not for love, for hate, or anything inbetween or not. I ask for naught. Only that you care enough for the time you HAVE lost in reading whatever portion of this that you have read, to ask yourself what you feel.

Anytime, anywhere, all the time, everywhere, what you feel. Do you feel your breath? Your fingers, your toes, your muscles, your bones? The beating of your heart, that travels everywhere?

I don’t ask for an answer. I ask and I listen, I speak and it’s enough. Alas, if only that was the case. If only I could SHUT THE FUCK UP.

We live for many reasons, one of which is that we haven’t died yet. Another is that our parents fucked.

Was it worth it? I guess that’s what they must ask? Maybe? Sometimes? With no “earth,” as Plato saw it, we travel at the speed of light. Mass is the slowing down of light, from the perspective of the very very fat.

I strive to mean much, yet I still walk empty. I talk less than air, I scream with words silent. Is it worth the read? Was I worth my seed?

When you trust yourself to answer honestly is when the questions disappear.

Help, a scream of love, not me, but yourself. And not for me, either, please. The stronger my light grows, the easier it is to hide in its shadow.

Cry for yourself, if you can. It’s too late for me. Pray for your children, it’s too late for their seed. 03:29

I don’t comment/post online much. I’m depressed and I think my girlfriend hates me, but these upvotes give me hope. Thank you.

If you find something that helps, please let me know. I’m so tired.

Take this with a grain of salt, but I’ve been going to therapy lately and I feel like most big parts of my healing process can be attributed to reading introduction to internal family systems.

I write a lot to process, but I’ve stopped recently to just sit with my emotions and face them without any distractions. Trying to sit with silence is hard, but the closer you get with genuine peace, the deeper you go. The book helped me understand that I’m all of me, and sometimes that contradicts, and that I don’t need always need words to define experience.

I don’t know how else to help, but therapy’s helped me feel more… real. Not so idealistic as a consequence, and things are scarier that way, but… life goes on.

I’m reading the red book by Carl Jung now. It is very helpful for me in understanding my own “human experience.”

I’ve got the 3rd gen and it’s lasted at least 3 years now.

It’s really nice to see what this community has to offer on lemmy. I quit Reddit because I refuse to use the Reddit app. I really do like the comments more than Reddit, and I’m a wannabe techno savvy Linux pro but I’m still working on basic motivation. Therapy included.

I’ve got Linux on Debian cause I needed the stability to handle my instability, I’ve read through the Linux command line and fell in love with emacs, and all I do on my pc is write, now. And pay bills, but that’s just Firefox. “Just the internet,” lol. It’s hard to try to contain, so I write.

Hope I don’t get banned for irrelevance. No hate here. Just rambling through.

Only words that come to mind when I read that are “pedantic,” and “what’s the point?”

“Never,” is an exaggeration, I like to comment when I reach the extreme threshold of my alcohol tolerance and that is a way it probably shows.

The way you type that, as I remember the glory of peak Reddit. I remember the feeling of, “there’s probably a subreddit for that.”

I never commented before, but lemmy gives me the hope that this might actually be read. I wonder if there’s a way to condense comments more effectively for the reptile mind that causes actually positive human benefit.

In a website. Time to go back to coding again! Thank you Lemmy!! Whatever this beautiful open source engine is called.

I would like to say that you inspire me on your writing of such a tool. I try to write code, and all I can seem to believe in with what I know, is in a website where with words I can write, in a free flow.

I write with a sight, and in that scene I fight, but in the freedom of inaction, I can’t help but feel flight. What signt is there to see, when your blood flows in guts of night?

But what I meant to say is that non profit or not by legal definition, money allows for, in the same kind of legal, an easy and simple transition.

I would like to apologize for the following opinions, because they come from a place of unresolved hypocrisy that is me.

Non-profit my ass. No such thing in America or anywhere else in the world, if you have the perspective to hunt and the money to signify modern value.

Survival of the fittest, and the newborn technology that is at its core a mirror of us, to the most complex level of modern mathematics (I’m of the firm belief that logic is discovered, not created).

With those seemingly unrelated concepts made with vague words, I ask you this:

What does it mean to feel? To know many different kinds of “one,” to live without fear but still be whole? I am sorry, again, I’m naught but gibberish and I’m just so glad you responded. I forgot and came back to find a word I sent, and now I find what I seek, an event in which I can say we’ve been bonded.

But now try to, now that I splay out, all I’ve got and am about, all I can see, is that to you my head, seems to be on my knees.

Again, sorry! Thank you for responding! I’m just glad to vent, and in expression have my soul rend into two, and sent into a new view.

I would just like to say, with open curiosity, that I think a nice solution would be for OpenAI to become a nonprofit with clear guidelines to follow.

What does that make me? Other than an idiot.

Of that at least, I’m self aware.

I feel like we’re disregarding the significance of artificial intelligence’s existence in our future, because the only thing anybody that cares is trying to do is get back control to DO something about it. But news is becoming our feeding tube for the masses. They’ve masked that with the hate of all of us.

Anyways, sorry, diatribe, happy new year

Here’s a poem I wrote last night:

01:53

I miss the point,

a lot of the times,

Because I think about,

The consequences

Repercussions,

The echoes in my mind,

They’re not helpful,

They’re not relevant.

I can never reach,

That inner calm,

That lets voice surface,

Because it’s screaming to be heard.

I can’t make conclusions,

There’s too much doubt,

And though I see now,

Why

I don’t know how, To stop running,

It used be to away,

And now it’s sprinting forwards.

But there’s so much wrong,

So much to figure out.

Rushing hard doesn’t help,

When I don’t know the route.

I can’t avoid feelings,

But with them, I’m always lost.

I can’t seem to feel my feelings,

When they’re always pushing,

And I’m always reeling.

Try all I can,

Give all I’ve got,

That’s the way,

I brought me up.

02:10

I highly recommend the book Introduction to Internal Family Systems by Richard Schwartz. It’s helped me a lot, and boils down to the idea that we have “parts,” and that our thoughts and feelings can sometimes be diametrically opposite.

It, along with being able to speak with zero inhibitions to my therapist that makes me feel heard and my thoughts not seem batshit insane, has really brought up a lot of old memories and scared parts of myself. What I thought was anxiety, I’m learning to notice as a fear I’ve had for as long as I can remember, and that fear helped me survive a lot of my early years of trauma.

https://ifs-institute.com

I can guarantee that this book will give you a sense of the answer you’re asking for.

You did amazing, great joke. Thank you for this.