Bullshit - Blog Posts

El me miraba y yo a el, y me perdi en ese mar azul de sus ojos

Ellos son humanos, se enamoraron y de castigo la sociedad no los acepta y si, yo creo en esta mierda

Następny numer z essą i lekkim opóźnieniem bo jest za ciepło żeby myśleć. Pozdrowienia dla pani Redzi. Teraz też koszuleczki customowe rozprowadzam za coś do jedzenia. Kup mi oranżadę, kilka bułek i ser żółty to może coś ci się trafi.

Miałem dopisać jeszcze że ulepszyliśmy technikę i teraz wszystko montujemy komputerowo bo się nie rozjeżdża w druku.

I just wanna be a snake with my other snake friends and just get into snake shenanigans like some sort of cartoon.

Does anyone else hate the phrase “he broke your heart” or “aww how dare he hurt you” because I HATE IT.

No was has the power to hurt me and it’s ridiculous that people assume that I’m weak enough for someone who didn’t deserve my kindness to walk all over me and “break my heart”.

Only you control who has that power and it sure as hell ain’t someone who isn’t respectful.

I. Think. Not.

I guess I think about a lot of things but that really don't make me special. I like to think that I have no illusions about what I am.

I'm nobody.

I'm a scared boy.

I'm faking it just like you. No, I'm not a serial killer, you sick fuck. Fuck out of here with that.

I guess I'm glad to be alive. Thing is, nobody taught me to live. Not really. Does anybody get taught?

Sometimes I'm filled with dread. I think about all the things I'm not gonna be able to deal with that day. That tends to suck. That's a fucked up thing to do but I do it sometimes.

I sit down here and I try this. Type my thoughts. Try to dress ‘em up like Fonzie or a monk who just got it. Thing is, usually I’m going nowhere. I’m not Fonzie. I’m not a monk. I’m not the hero. The world is full of people who think they need to be the big-dicked hero. 

We. We>me. 

I say that as I tickle these here keys all alone. Are we all these people having heroic fantasies all alone? We’re all Luke Skywalker staring at the horizon. Maybe it’s time to cut that shit out. Maybe we need to cut it out because it’s dangerous. 

I remember. Nah, I half-remember. Shit, maybe this never happened. I remember a Saturday Night Live Christmas parody. It was a parody of those holiday specials with the clay people. I dunno. Do you know what I’m talking about? Aight. There was a line that stuck with me. I don’t remember the context. I just remember the line, “It’s not about you, you douchebag.” 

IT’S NOT ABOUT YOU, YOU DOUCHEBAG. 

Maybe I’m way off here but that’s the heart of pure, undefiled religion right there. Of course, what happens with religion is people get transfixed by the messianic figures. That’s all they see. They try to see themselves in the messiahs. 

Went somewhere. Somewhere. Got lost there though. Might not be able to go any farther. 

My world is nothing but mundane. I work. I worry about screwing up at work. Sometimes I study for an exam that baffles me and interests me little. I slouch at my desk and look busy. I anticipate terror that often times never comes. 

Sometimes I manage to focus enough to read. I finished Understanding Power by Noam Chomsky. I e-mailed the man. He wrote me back. He didn’t say much but I appreciate that he acknowledged an anonymous nobody like me. I learned a lot from that book. It did something to me. 

I came very close to angrily declaring to my therapist that communism will win. That was really the first time that I expressed candidly the role living in such a fucked up society has on the psyche. That is a huge part of this. This. What I’m doing here. What makes me cry. What fucks me against my will. What turns me into a homely yet charming robot who is programmed to provide you with excellent customer service today. What makes me do this. Trying to express without asking you for a credit card number first. 

That’s a huge part of the project. 

What do you do in the world when you just can’t shake something? 

So it looks like NaNoWriMo are happy to have AI as part of their community. Miss me with that bullshit. Generative artificial intelligence is an active threat to creativity and the livelihoods of hundreds of thousands of people in creative fields.

Please signal boost this so writers can make an informed choice about whether to continue to take part in such a community.