Category Archives: word vomit

Playing with Persona

Missing the last social meeting wasn’t Aug’ing my Cog, so I “finished” my “technical love” paper. Regardless, getting my Yu-Gi-Oh! fix has become a daily matter. I had a day of insight, yesterday; today is too young to judge.

She, for me, embodies all that is feminine. And I–for her–embody all that is masculine. This being said–there are no sympathetic bones in their body…who is “their”? They are someone lost in time: to me, lost to our past…

Conservatism runs deeper than that–that is, deeper than being both weird and dissonant. Passing the outgoing mantle can prevent one’s successor from displaying insidious behavior.

Am I a relatively extreme AugCog guy (for my age)? Yes; but in any case, an ineffective towel doesn’t dry well. The anguish of a romantic can, at times, feel quite palpable!

That was a subpar (beer) pull! I thought: perhaps I had sipped too much or little. To sully a friendship–is it not self-evident that such an idea lacks any merit, whatsoever? What I may have come to observe is that it’s not all roses and daisies in Diversity Land!

Yet, still…Lady Luck belongs with Gentleman Skill! I can pay attention in a productive way! I got out my Waifutop* just to type this all out…I’ve felt like I had an ambiguous romantic future since last year.

‘She’ was a detective of her own feelings. Meanwhile, troubleshooting myself re-presented itself as a psychological project during today’s shower…. My doctor never once told me to develop Blue Obelisk balls.

As long as that is her will, I will abide by it. I cannot negate it! Yet: I still fancy myself something of a warrior. I had tried and appealed to her values–but the lucrative anti covid-19 industry beckoned.

I have known more than one yahoo brother. Pacing and typing is peculiar to me; not for them. Positional reasons for doing something include feeling good, possibly practicing the non-Olympic sport of racquetball.

At certain places and events, I felt I might be vaguely looking for her…. This Ariana Grande-fueled lifestyle could go for only a time. If she’s always with me, then I’m not lost. My love outlives me!

This could become a small but powerful blog. Til then: I settle for being a someday-professor! Am I a research hippie? That’s a definite benefit…all the while, western science and fewer corporate intellectuals are jacked on neuroscience.

To enact romance as a values-Nazi can make one lose the urgency that didn’t result from genuine patience. At this point, I’m a griefmaster; Tool McToolio? Tendienitis can result from being a semi-professional magician of psychology.

As a secret GOAT, I uttered some statement and awakened her latent Catholicism! It would be a great, individualistic triumph to become a published theorist of reality. More than this, I want to release the shining light in my soul…

Simps of the universe unite, reconciling science with romance. She rage-married; yet: “Almost” isn’t “don’t?” An essay forming on my mind, I learned that we can have stupid sensibilities.

I was (just earlier today) on the threshold of evolution

*This denotes nothing existent–only fanciful.

Navigate treacherous social waters

Here I am: feeding the hedonistic machine. That’s my laptop, with WordPress open. For pleasure’s sake, we won’t talk about the healing touch of a tongue.

Instead, let’s discuss the depression of evolution. Love was our way out of that one…. In L.A., it seems most of us have been individualists on the streets, but collectivists in the sheets.

I’ve been in something of a graduation pit (since May). Does friendship douse the fire of romance? Questions like these throw me back onto myself!

Some things in life are imcompatible with my being. Specifically, what happens when you and I didn’t think any better? I’m no Jesuit dream-boy; nor do I think I’ll have any “Hinduit” children.

None of it makes me want to be sadboi animu. That would disrupt your buzz–non? If you take an existential risk, you might get a humanistic reward out of it!…

We can be weak but knavely. Some among us are druggy jocks! Ya can’t have your contact solution and drink it, too…our eyes are shining, inspired–born of intuition.

Enclosed–safely enclosed…that’s how we were during quarantime. It’s O.K. to have perfectly natural, oedipal and Freudian feelings. Just don’t be a dum-dum emo boi: and in application, refer to the full panoply of theories.

Shifting your momentums for me

Health Dharma: the creed of today. Getting over someone by their direction and obeying one’s own conscience may lead in the same direction…. Namely, that of the embodied body.

Acting out one’s heart, soul, etc. is demanded. What are the superficial qualities of the mission? The bearded man of PCH–try and keep that thought in your pants…

“Mirror neurons complicate individualism.” Let future fake-you’s die indefinitely. Do not be clouded by this worry!

Noodles beget noodles: could that be a real Hot Cheeto bummer? Playing the liberal game isn’t always the same as taking my epistemic time. (But–it could be!)

What the shirt dictates: suppress the aesthetic. To be totalitarian versus wise is perhaps no more salient than in the case of accessible pornography. Oh; the unconscious possibilities!

Waving the commitment banner is impossible when our vows seem to have been made in vain…

No Space High

Who needs an approval boat when we can ride this soul high-train onto tomorrow! Patient urgency is the key for any low-key Buddhist*. Incidentally, we can be tit-for-tat in relationships–but should we? Do we need to be…?

Consumerism begets consumerism. Therefore, don’t buy anything and save! Take a bite outta that regret pie…or, not?

Some situations are extroverted. Let’s drop any logical pretense about it! And while we’re at it, metaphorical self-death does not befit a life-affirming introvert. Let go of your death grip on the steering wheel and see how your (hand) health benefits…

Being an existential boyfriend is less–but seems like more–than anyone ever bargained for. Any guy who’s succumbed to it knows: “There is a feeling to madness.” There is a feeling of being pushed to the limit of my soul…

Do you know it?

Being pulled toward the memes is not what results in automating love into my being. Science is what could do that, apparently.

*Don’t ask me what high-key Buddhists do with their Wednesday afternoons…