I want to reconcile disparate stimuli. A nearby church is critical of society’s shallow connections; modernists assert socio-technology as being “just how things are, now”. Won’t someone please just show me their Shinto?
It is an art–being detached, not harassed. My first brush with Lady Chaos ended in various shades of disagreeableness. I have been withholding romance, since…
Arrogantly asserting irony as truth is the mode of an unenthused hipster. The most inclusive “we” consists of the “freezein” to counter burnout. What a crater of laughter!
Have I been overloading the noosphere? It doesn’t feel like a traumafest…I’d rather just laugh assertively. I aspire to be greater than an unrelatable robot.
The rigors of romance might appeal to a perfectionistic gamer. Such a person should have a balanced body economy; though it is true, that “pain gives life some character”. A strategic multitude should be employed!
Wild Westerners and Yu-Gi-Oh! players alike can have an insatiable thirst for duel. Do the latter have it for ocular reasons? Or is it simply just the right level of tempting to “go full weirdo”?
Writing as a diagnosed cyclothymic is one way to curtail the mania. The world is an ontology of souls! Pain overrides joy: the fun ends, there…
…Until we experience the feeling realization. A distasteful thought–what if I want to jam with the devil? I wouldn’t wanna trigger shippers with a potentially good romance!
“Love”–the ultimate hoodwink. Take things data-day. Rest up from successive tired-eye days!
When I’m tired, imaginary folks have had poor taste in my life. I discovered this in a treasure trove of answers. Dare to defy an oppositional ethic?!
We find ourselves in a broader coolness context. This aria includes at least one forthright woman. Nerds can put their cards where their muscles are?
We are heartily triggered by thirsty energy. Dum-dum geniuses know that: affect lies beyond a thin layer of cognition! Sometimes, I am just an upper-middle djinn (by my own persistent evaluation) awaiting summons…
One may need to exploit systemic flexibility to keep sane. A whimsical dream girl might fall for a free philosopher–but either way, why be technical about love? It may turn away the unworthy to build a more sturdy psychological empire, to accommodate those with forlorn hearts.
Sometimes, to fall out of love could be a win for sobriety. It can lead one to recognize their special relation with the universe! Love is the most objective shield from wicked magick…
I must be wary for anyone who could become a victim of my wrath! The impulse for play is best paired with a romantic plan. Interpersonal relations are best when not fraught with friction.
Join the cult of respect and embark on a pop-punk voyage. There, one may find their own un-reconciled darkness–at such a time, the conviction of friendship can save our lives. A proper life analysis can begin after such vicious tests.
Ironic though it is to type here: “life is not reducible to the internet”. You have to moralize your being for the spirit of Pacific Coast Highway (PCH) to come save you! He will deem you sacred, therefore safe…. There is no broken life path.
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.
This is the story of a man’s love voyage. It begins with a deep friendship between two fellow emo nerds in high school. It ends with the gift of my soul’s dream to another.
Once, a high school student lent his history notes to a classmate in English. The English teacher–who assigned readings of Jane Eyre and 1984–did not seem to notice. Though the main character did not know it, this classmate would become his first love.
Our protagonist’s second love followed from the first. This love was pretty with blue eyes, platinum blonde hair, and pale skin. The two enjoyed a nice summer together with their two best friends before saying goodbye, as each departed for their respective beach college.
The hero’s third love began over the internet, extending across the Atlantic Ocean from America to a Transylvanian castle. Disenchanted with his college’s shallow dating scene, the man falls in love with a charming woman’s prose. The two embarked upon a love journey of astonishing philosophical depth.
As his hero’s journey was ending, the man fell in love one last time. The woman this time was one he had met before at his home, purely by chance. He would be her first love, much as his own was for him; both his first and last loves were good friends and bridesmaids of his best girl friend in high school.
This has been my love voyage. There is no telling just how love will be born or come to be, but we must follow it to the very end. Will you and I, both–forever and together?
The will is defined by what is done, and action always incurs cost. The question, then, is not whether the will is “free”, but the return on its investment.
At least as much as modern analytic culture’s mind-matter problems have been its most vibrantly-pulsating and difficult theoretical emergences, may epistemic uncertainties and strong sentiments regarding free will and agency co-originate the crux of naturalism vs. constructivism controversies.
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…
Have you ever wondered about the experience–i.e., the phenomenology–of superheroes like Marvel’s Daredevil (Matt Murdock), or DC’s Batman (Bruce Wayne) and Green Arrow (Oliver Queen)? Each of theirs is a story on how heroes plagued with trauma cope via their personal mission. A “sub-phenomenology” of trauma is possible when repressed traumatic content passes into the subconscious, or sub-awareness.
Once such content passes into the subconscious, it can be treated. But before being treated, the peculiar kind of trauma should be identified. Is it grief caused by loss: as is the case for Matt, Bruce, and Oliver?
It occurred to me while outlining this post that art immersion could serve as relief therapy. Assuming trauma has not been prevented, and once sufficient insight has been gained on its nature, it should be cured. Once cured, we could move toward establishing the right prevention parameters!
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…
I played the original Oddworld: Abe’s Odyssey as a kid with my brother. I have fond memories of it–which is saying a lot, perhaps, given the game’s general grimness. In any event, I was happy that a remake was on the Nintendo Switch’s online store for me to buy!
Oddworld is a story of liberating slaves from their oppressors (viz., Sligs). A big idea is that faith is the Sligs’ enemy, and should be harnessed to the extent possible. To harness his power to the fullest, Abe has to visit ancient lands to acquire wisdom lost to most of his brothers.
I didn’t remember everything just as it happened in the original game. Specifically, I was awed by the Shrykull chant Abe gains after visiting both Paramonia and Scrabvania. The idea here is that animals were once regarded as sacred, but in the wake of pre-industrialization, they became viewed as raw material for tasty food.
This Oddworld story is about gaining animistic–“animystic”, anyone?–power to undo the moral wrongs of Abe’s society. These wrongs include desacralization of both animals (granted though they are monstrous) and individuals, the latter of whom are treated as slaves. I did receive the “bad ending”: I must have been just a few Mudokons short of having the good one, instead; but I still enjoyed revisiting a game with deeper meaning than I initially grasped, with poetry interspersed and potty humor to lighten the overall mood.