We are a simulated blur. We are tomorrow's dust. I am waiting for a friend to call me back and rifled through a whole bunch of stuff but then I found myself here again. I can only imagine how much time I have spent on this blog. It feels kind of right, right now. I am staying at my brother's house again. My mom has vertigo and my dad is operating on a bad back and two bad knees. They are getting old. I am getting old. I wonder what happens when I can't depend on my parents anymore. I need to grow up. I am not a rockstar. This is real life. As real as it can be. It is not imaginary. Even if the real has disappeared. I don't think my siblings will take care of me. There will be no one to take care of me.
I have been fully immersing myself in music. It is what makes me feel good. At least the initial burst of making something out of nothing. Finishing a song is rather tedius. I have access to a drum set and an electric guitar here which is lovely but obviously I can't jam out with the whole house asleep. The beauty of Ableton is I can take it wherever I go. I miss marijuana joints and red wine. You get a better jam and appreciation for music under that influence. I have to do everything stone cold sober and that can be a bummer. I am not a rockstar. I'm going to have to face the realities of life. I don't want to be a wino on the streets or in prison. One of my best friends just got out of prison. It sounds horrific and adjusting to life out of prison is not easy. I do see a therapist but music is my therapy. I mean obviously I care if it's shit. I don't want it to be shit but even if it is shit that's ok. Strikes and gutters. Those moments when you may be on to something is worth living for though. OK, back to chasing the dragon.
I'm deep in theory. What a magical time. I am about half way through Mythologies by Roland Barthes. Then, I have The Medium is the Massage by McLuhan, Elements of Semiology by Barthes, and Society of the Spectacle by Debord up next but no one gives a shit.
That is really what this blog post is about. How no one gives a shit. Being an autodidact is a very solitary pursuit by definition. I joined a philosophy channel on Discord and they don't really give a shit either. It's mostly analytic academics. I don't fit in. The server is too active. Reddit has nothing for me besides the occasional Google search. I kind of despise Chat GPT but it can be somewhat useful.
My poor mom has to hear earfuls of the stuff I'm reading. At least she says she enjoys it to a point.
I'm just lonely. I went in hard on some Baudrillard. I think up to 2 weeks have flown by. I don't know if I even thought to be lonely then. Mythologies by Barthes is ok. It is a good intro to semiotics. A nice break from the denser and more opaque Baudrillard. Although, Baudrillard fascinates me. He seduces me. He haunts me.
There is no where for the autodidact to go except to touch grass and deal with it. Academia is a pipedream. It has been ever since I did not major in philosophy and chose poker over academics.
And the elephant in the room is that I need a job. I know, I know. I need a job. That is tremendous toil. If I did not have hypertrophy training and theory I would be in real trouble. The toil and the void would be too great.
Overcoming inertia in entropy. In a simulation the only thing left to do is play the game. All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players (Shakespeare).
It is normal for people to have anxiety about death. Libido and fear of death are two massive motivations. Sometimes they are unconcsious motivations. Marketers mess with our ability to know what we need and what will be satisfying. They tamper with our imagination as the result of the void. It shows up in weird ways. We fill the void with imagination and consumption. Imagination in the creation of art is good. Imagination in unrealistic expectations for consumption is bad.
I have clothes. I have plenty of clothes. I have an understanding of color theory and can generally dress myself to be passable in society. There is no such thing as authenticity in this regard. Unless maybe if I got my clothes from a small indigenous group of people in South America who custom made me some outfits. Any magazine, any shop, any online store is going to command the title of "purveyor of taste." Personally, I think just wearing white t-shirts and blue jeans everyday is better than falling into the consumption trap. But, in bourgois life there are dress codes...
"He who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man."
- Samuel Johnson
A beast with f body dysmorophia. I've been watching IFBB pros train on YouTube. They all have body dysmorphia. They all wear "pump covers" to hide their muscles until they feel they are pumped up enough.
How much is enough? I don't feel the need to get that jacked or that lean. I would like to make gains in the gym, however.
Time is winding down. Time is passing by. What will you do with your time and attention?
I will continue to grind in the gym. I am thinking about 51... 65... 76.
I wish I didn't have to be so clean and sober all the time but between my alcoholism and bipolar it's really fucking stupid to drink or do drugs. I get better gains in the gym though and I am definitely more clear headed. Not clearheaded enough to not post a bunch of bullshit on a website with barely any traffic but it's better than being bombed and that whole cycle. I didn't even post any marijuana pictures or breasts.
I come on here because I am desperate: Desperate for attention, desperate for connection, desperate for a change in mood. I get anxious, I feel empty, I am frantic for more experience. The list of things that work is really not that long and they may or may not end up working. I've got Aphex Twin going in really expensive headphones. It's really the best way to listen to him and I have the Steinberg UR12 Audio Interface where I can turn a knob to adjust the volume. That little of a detail makes me content. I also have my MXL990 mic hooked up so I can create music with ease. Material things do bring happiness. With the music and the cologne it really sets up a nice atmosphere for someone as lonely as me. I have found this rather queer behavior to make life a little bit more livable. I'm also in a really old sweatshirt and sweatpants. No casts on the feet. Peak relaxation.
It's nice to have these moments. To linger contemplatively. My whole city is shutdown from a "snowstorm." I am a sum of my actions. If I want a job I need to call on potential employers. I don't want a job. I need a job. It's a fact of life we need to consider income versus expenses. I am not an exception. Money problems can really make life hell. One thing that I have going for me is that I have been to hell and back. I wish it were not so but while leaving trauma it also toughened me up. Hell is not other people. Hell is being homeless in the winter with no health insurance and no psych meds.
The New Year and no one is here. Probably a good thing right?
The New Year is ripe for a fresh start eh?
New year, new day, new moment!
And I am here typing up a blog on a dead ass website but I want to chill out a little bit and listen to music.
I'm finally home. I can get cleaned up a bit and GET AFTER IT in the gym! Do some deadlifts, some Bulgarian Split Squats, and go heavy on some back extensions. Get stronger and more athletic. Life doesn't end at 40!
I read a stat the other day that among Gen Z males, suicide is up 40%. Among Gen Z females it is up 56%. I can feel it. I try not to feel it so much for my own mental health but the truth shall set you free. Why are so many people committing suicide these days, how can I avoid it myself and how can I potentially help others?
I guess that is a potentially dark start. It's so crazy how all of us specs are just floating around existing. I am at my brother's house with my parents helping out with babysitting. I'll probably crash before midnight. I don't know if that is depressing or not. I'm reading a good book (Sentimental Education by Flaubert). I'm safe, I'm healthy, I'm not feeling that bad really. NYE is amateur night out in da club. I don't want to be around a bunch of belligerent drunks. So, per usual I am empty, alone, and listening to Andy Stott.
That's the thing about hedonic adaptation. Most people would probably say my life sucks. Especially, this underlying concern about money but I don't know it's not that bad. Constantly being tortured would be worse. There are a number of things that would make my life better. Hedonic adaptation and entrenched habit and I am ok but it also keeps me from getting better. How much better would I get? What is the word like marginal gains? What if it is really difficult to just get a little bit of improvement?
I don't need Rick Owens clothing. I don't need a lot of material anything.
Exercise - check
Connection - oops
Meditation - sometimes
It would obviously be better to have a consistent meditation practice.
Gratitude - sometimes
Sleep - I typically sleep pretty well
That is the foundation of "happiness" even though I don't like that word.
I know connection is important but I am too broke to have friends at this point. It's not so bad up North where I can spend time with my siblings, etc. but down South all I have is my parents and that is not healthy. So, it always comes back to being broke. Get a job you bum! And that's basically it.
A job in these happiness scenarios is just assumed or a job that isn't too bad which may be more difficult to acheive than most people think. The quest for bread. It afflicts all the disinherited.
I think I'm just feeling a little antsy. Spending too much time with family can wear on anybody. Close quarters. There is no where for me to go except for the gym and I took a day off today. We need distractions and I need free or extraordinarily cheap activities.
I'm not really sure what I am going to get into tonight. That means in general about what I am going to do tonight before I go to sleep and in the more specific as in what this blog is going to be about.
I went to a Christmas concert tonight that was pretty good. It was a string quintet playing all sorts of songs like Vivaldi - Winter and Bach to old school Christmas songs and even some Mariah Carey. It was something to do on a Saturday night.
I have to get my tits going good so I can wear ridiculous deep v t-shirts showing them off. Such ridiculous v-neck t-shirts that you show the upper abs off too. Women should let their tits out. Men should let their tits out too. Tomorrow is Chest/Triceps day is why I bring it up. I don't think I'm quite at the right volume or frequency yet optimization wise but I did do a side chest pose and most muscular pose when I was pumped up and it looked pretty good. So good I was turned on and masturbated to myself flexing in the mirror right then and there.
After that I was exhausted so I played some World of Warcraft Classic (WoW C). I feel like I am really coming a long way with my life as I level this character up. I am seeing personal growth in new depths and dimensions than I could have ever imagined. Running around smacking stuff over and over and over again.
I need some new reading too. I'm not sure what I'll go with but I am sure I'll find something. I feel like I need to read some Jane Austen or something like that. I have been reading these Huysmans and Bret Easton Ellis it's all about torture and murder. While brilliant and I am happy I read them I'd like to read something that doesn't have torture and murder. I've had enough of it and quite frankly I don't think anyone could do it better than Huysmans and Bret Easton Ellis. I was reading these short stories by David Foster Wallace (DFW) and he had one just today about torture, rape, and murder. It was actually pretty good but not as good as Huysmans or Brett Easton Ellis. So, I am all out of books and I am not quite sure where to go from here.
Oh well, I guess I can start looking for a new book. Any suggestions always welcome.
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