Self.

How gaudy of you.

It takes another to remove the spell, and for that I am happy. This façade has been removed.
I am not here anymore, and will not return in the same state of mind.

Still grey.

Everything that could go wrong has gone wrong.
Time to start again? I really don't want to.

Confirmed realisation.

What have I become?

Initially what I hated; initially what I would of condemned. Change is a horrible thing, these subjects of emotion. Everyone you will ever know will dissapear. We will all fall into the void, seperated. Apart.

For now.

Rain.

Self-destruction presents itself in phases.

Time has come to drop this charade. Revert back. One cannot change. Things will break.

Repugnant.

You disgust me.

Fegurð sálar hennar.

That's what it feels like; I know you can feel it now. The connection that will never be made; conversations that will never occur.

You make me nostalgic for moments that never occurred.
Is this a sign that I might be overcoming? I'm not so sure.

These entries have always been completely personal, expressing feelings and ideas reflected off situations, emotions and ordeals I may have endured or encountered, but I have never really made such a direct reference to the subject...

It's okay, nobody reads this. Which I'm fine with, I'm okay if people are reading or not. This blog acts as an outlet for me, whether other people are interested or not isn't of my concern. These writings may come across cryptic and puzzling in some regions, others being blatantly obvious. However, every single entry I have posted, every single word has a personal meaning to me...

Documented. Noted.

To carve your face into the back of the sun.

In performance I watched him cast a circle of light upon the stage, and step into that circle, and reveal the dreams and reveries of his heart. He seemed to dance in the eye of something mysterious and creative; with every gesture he embodied the child and the feminine.

When all the tiny hairs on your body stand on end. When a feeling of pure beauty overwhelms your body and soul. One can try and describe this feeling (like I am now), but it comes no where near to what it actually feels like.

I've only ever found one moment like this in my entire life so far. Just one.

Realisation.

Becoming more and more aware every day. Secrets, infatuations, truths.
This is all too trivial.

Nothing more to say.

Loss.

Losing data is a gift, when you lose invisible bits you become more aware of the transitory nature of the everything. There are no backups or tape archives of real life, why should mediated reality have a different mode?

Time.

Time is a selfish human entity. If there is nobody around to witness time; time stops.

An idea -
If there was only one human in existence, even though time would be still be present, it would not matter. Time truly becomes meaningful only on a large scale; when many are involved. Time is used to measure successes and triumphs over other people. For instance, success is measured by how full a person’s life has been (whether this is through wealth, prosperity, fame, etc), summed up at the end; compared to another life. This all becomes possible with the constant of time added to the equation.

Now imagine if there was only one human being in existence, time would not matter because there would be no one else’s achievements to compare to. Therefore, time causes the pack to become selfish; to be better than others in the short time they are around. This may be through careers, relationships, journeys, or even religious matters. These things only matter when time (and a population of people) is introduced.

Through this 'one human' theory, we can see that such things as careers, relationships, journeys or religious ventures now become irrelevant as this human does not have a population (with a limited amount of time) racing against him/her. Now all that this human needs to do to fulfil his/her life - to succeed - is to live out his/her time. To survive until he/she cannot, until time takes over. Time would become irrelevant as there would be no need to compare these trivial human pursuits, because there would be no one to compare to.

Selfish creatures.

Complete field.

The adepts of Pythagoras lived in pitch black caves to receive wisdom through their visions.

I can see right in front of me.
Acting this way isn't deceiving.
It doesn't make things better.

Neither does this.

Truth.

And so the night came; I was to tell you, "Time was ill-spent."
Before things change, I need to let you know.

"Every man and every woman is a star," that is, an aggregate of such experiences, constantly changing with each fresh event, which affects him or her either consciously or subconciously."

See through.

I am.

40^80.

Just to think, that such a thing can be developed within the mind.

These thoughts that exceed the universe, all known reality; remain in these small spaces. An entity that exceeds the space that it occupies. So, we exist in chaos. Simple rules of mathematics are broken by simple mathematical equations - a volume cannot exceed the space in which it occupies. However, answers occupy these spaces.

1.46150164 × 10¹²⁸

We revert again.

So real.

I've constructed a galaxy for you.
It exists in an astral plane, far from the prying eyes of familiar strangers.

Lover, you should've come over.

Bodhisattva's for our sanity.

Metaphorically speaking:

Psalm's like featherbeds
Plump blue bodies
Bruised vermillion
Blotting out the sun.
I expand and stretch, bend and skew.

The fiery Deva of ignorance.
Evaporate the holy waters of my sanity. My intellect.
Intellect cannot swim.

Holy waters.
Intellect cannot swim.

The sun, Savitā, Tonatiuh, Sól, Sūrya, Ra or Re
Cannot swim. The sun will be swallowed by the water.

So cancel the Apocalypse.
Metaphorically speaking, cancel the Apocalypse. Metaphorically speaking.

Spiralling.

I am sleep
I am silence.

I am the white room
I am the blank screen.

I am.

01846.

The looming shadow of the future hangs its sorry head over mine. Everything we will ever know, everything we will ever become is for nothing. An insignificance.

Power struggles, wars, deaths, revolutions, love and hate. In the grand scheme of things everything amounts to nothing. The overall plan is blank.

Whitewash.

Sycophant.

The sycophantic thief sneaks into what is yours.
This thief is secretive only to himself, obvious to all others.
Except the victim.

I see you.

Depth of field.

The human entity is the comedy of the universe. Life and its surroundings supply us with a stage, lights, props, sounds, colours, effects, scripts and other actors to play off.

The 'Wow!' signal
The Wow! signal was a strong narrowband radio signal detected by Dr. Jerry R. Ehman on August 15, 1977, while working on a SETI project at The Big Ear radio telescope of Ohio State University. The signal bore expected hallmarks of potential non-terrestrial and non-solar system origin. It lasted for 72 seconds, the full duration Big Ear observed it, but has not been detected again. Much attention has been focused on it in the media when talking about SETI results.

Amazed at how closely the signal matched the expected signature of an interstellar signal in the antenna used, Ehman circled the signal on the computer printout and wrote the comment "Wow!" on its side. This comment became the name of the signal. (Wikipedia)


Is this message from the stars caused by a moving object that coincidentally came across our message while on its journey and then projected its reply back to us? Or is it a static being that sent back a reply, and simply switched off or became invisible, disguising itself amongst the stellar backdrop of the universe? Or has it no meaning at all? Is it simply an elaborate hoax to bring fame to the acclaimed Dr. Ehman?

Such is the Fermi paradox: "The apparent contradiction between the high probability extraterrestrial civilizations' existence and the lack of contact with such civilizations."

The Great Silence: "Even if travel is hard, if life is common, why don't we detect their radio transmissions?"

M55

Gentlemen.

From the inside, the outside appears differently; altered through our perceptions. From the outside, those on the inside are shown the same way. Everything is changed based on what you see through. And you'll always see something through something else. Perception is an ever-present factor, changing reality.

Reality is what you choose it to be.

A repetition.

The only animal that can turn its stomach inside out is the starfish.

Human emotion is only an object used to try and hide the human race for what it really is; a repetition. Generations experience the same thing as before; art, music, joy, love, life, birth, sleep and death.

And it all keeps rolling on.

Snow fort.

Thinking of delving into fully-fledged misanthropy. Everyday a new example of how pathetic we are as 'intelligent life forms' arises, each accentuating the previous example. If you cannot get over it; there's the trigger.

The smartest people that have ever lived were the people that came up with the idea of the gun mechanism. Quick, clean and effective. True visionaries that saw the human race for what it was: Greedy, hating, stupid, arrogant and animalistic bastards. They saw the problem and thought up an answer.

Or maybe they wanted it all for themselves.

Purgatory?

Where does the idea go?
When the philosopher doesn't exist?

Null.

"When do you think you'll get out?"

There will be nothing tonight. To all my adoring fans and followers, the grand accumulation of null.

Make yourselves known, in this ever-expiring field, odourless and colourless. You see darkness, but to me, this is my whole reality. I see a universe in here, a world. You are the ones kept inside, I'm out. I'm way away, outside. Outside, where there are no boundaries except death, even though consciousness is immortal.

When do you think you will get out?

Disintergration.

All the world is disintegration.
Broken through the multiverse.
Caught in the eyes of one,
And nothing.

Forever is unaware.

A man sits down before a gun, which is pointed at his head. This is no ordinary gun; i­t's rigged to a machine that measures the spin of a quantum particle. Each time the trigger is pulled, the spin of the quantum particle is measured. Depending on the measurement, the gun will either fire, or it won't. If the quantum particle is measured as spinning in a clockwise motion, the gun will fire. If the particle is spinning counterclockwise, the gun won't go off. There'll only be a click.

Nervously, the man takes a breath and pulls the trigger. The gun clicks. He pulls the trigger again. Click. And again: click. The man will continue to pull the trigger again and again with the same result: The gun won't fire. Although it's functioning properly and loaded with bullets, no matter how many times he pulls the trigger, the gun will never fire. He'll continue this process for eternity, becoming immortal.

Go back in time to the beginning of the experiment. The man pulls the trigger for the very first time, and the particle is now measured as spinning clockwise. The gun fires. The man is dead.

But, wait. The man already pulled the trigger the first time -- and an infinite amount of times following that -- and we already know the gun didn't fire. How can the man be dead? The man is unaware, but he's both alive and dead. Each time he pulls the trigger, the universe is split in two. It will continue to split, again and again, each time the trigger is pulled, and the man becomes immortal.

Unknowing immortality.

A figurative 'White Rabbit' makes itself known.

Think you're fine writers? Worthy idealists? Adequate intellectuals?
People attempting to pull a 'white rabbit' out of their hat. People trying so hard to be 'individual' only to fall back amongst the other ‘rabbits’.

I read so many petty stories that include the motif of a 'white rabbit' or a 'rabbit hole' implying some kind of downward spiral or miracle, even. Passage after passage, narrative after narrative, idea after idea, conception after conception, all the same.

And you; the enabled reader, maybe intellectual, maybe another grey face instead; you are thinking to yourself as you're reading: "Oh bravo, writer. You've broken the enigma, found the pattern. You must consider yourself to be better than that of which you speak of!"

False.

Individuality is a facade, an elaborate hoax. Creativity is just a disguise for what we all are as people - Animals. We are all the same, you and I. Driven by the same desires.

All that matters to us is food, sleep, and sex. Sure, a few luxuries can be added to the brew, but at the end of the day that's all it is. No higher meaning, no higher interventionist, no point.

And it doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.

Commencement.

Another bland beginning thrown into the sea of monotonous blog entries that clog the internet.