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w a t c h t h i s c l i p t o t u n e i n t o t h e v i be
Quick context: I thought my family was moving to a home, that home was sold, because of the market. My parents pushed this home on my family, saying it was the right choice. We decided after this pressure to move, to move to this house, became excited. Then house is sold. My parents own the house. There are good reasons to do this. I understand. The market will crash in a year, and they will not be able to retire unless they sell now. I get that. The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round. There are Other Things Around This Interaction that really made me very upset. Those don’t matter to you.
This isn’t a format, this is just writing. This has no theory, like the clip said, “Being… I don’t give a shit about whatever is going on over there, doesn’t effect me in the slightest,” it has no clever content on the latest Trending Topic, it has no surprise. There will be no hot take to recycle to your peers here. There are no literary elements, aside from author, reader, and God. We’re together here, because of you. You chose to press the little follow button, then follow the Twitter Dopamine Click Machine Decision Language Game Tree until you chose to be here. This isn’t like seeing me on the timeline, this isn’t something I think of like a bowel movement. I can’t help but to poast, I am always-already-on the timeline because I am addicted to the Stupid Rat Wheel. I am addicted to the rat wheel because I am good at Words, and the rat wheel needs more Words, and now I am here, because I need to write more words because people are not Understanding Clearly What I Am Saying. Because I grew up on video games that cloned Rand Corporation stratagems on a global scale, and because I had a Sickness in my Heart (mental illness is not real, and every time someone references it, you should say, “that is a social construct, and I don’t believe in it” out loud to their face, as a ritual, to protect yourself). I like to check the minimap to see if Terran is dropping my Third, so I like to check my rearview mirror to see the cars, so I like to check my coins to see them go up or down, so I like to refresh twitter and Press Like, so I like to Brand (there are two meanings to this word, I mean both) Myself Repeatedly.
This is not that, not only because I decide that this isn’t that. This is intentional. I am thinking carefully about which words to say to you for maximal impact. This is less like laughing at the homeless man who tells you that the concept of zero is an illusion, and more like choosing to lock yourself in a room with that man and read his manifesto and his take on Martin Heidegger.
As a quick aside, what on earth are you doing here. Online, looking at a dopamine machine that is optimized to make you consume corporate content and melt your brain. That doesn’t seem wise to me. Distance that mask from yourself. Maybe you should be writing Real Work that won’t be Banned as soon as Shaniquah from HR sees it on Trending.
I want you to very clearly understand, that you are going to have to do everything yourself.
Is your family broken? That is your job to fix. Yours. Alone.
Are you broken? That is your job. Fix you, fix them, iterate, continue.
Are You Sad About How Modernity Makes You Feel Icky Oh Wah Wah Wah Little Baby You Want A Bottle? Shut yourself up and say only what matters.
I don’t like to type, he types out. I don’t like these stupid little keys, I don’t like that I can’t pause just right, I don’t like that you aren’t sitting down in a theater with all the lights off, surrounded by enough people to make you self conscious of making too much noise, and you have the option of not Focusing On What I Am Telling You. Don’t worry, I will make my own web domain, and maintain it myself, and do it all myself. I will make you sit down and listen to what I have to say, because every time I read the replies, it is very clear that you are Not Getting The Thrust of the Argument here.
I am going to fix Randy’s Content, and in order to do so, I am going to have to fix my Family, my Family (distant), my work, my mind, my soul, and everything else. Then I will force those I love to fix themselves, slowly, over time. Then I will die.
It will be mine, because I will have made it, and in a way, that’s much better than buying a boat or a second home. It’s even better than setting all of that on fire.