Inconsequential Rambling

wrong planet

zaxafratl — Sat, 26 Jun 2010 09:08:10 +0000

I’m a failure. I am clearly incapable of functioning like a normal human so I think I should just go. I try and try but I just can’t do this any more. Everything I say sounds stupid, everything I write sounds affected. Everything I do goes wrong. I am simply non-functioning, as regards relationships, social interaction, career and prospects, personal fitness and health, reproduction – I just don’t work properly. I have to go now. All that’s left is to figure out how to do it. The funny part is that people keep telling me how relaxed I look – that’s because I have given up. I have no hope of getting a life so I find I don’t know what to do with myself. I can’t work myself up to anything, let alone jumping off a bridge or something else equally difficult to get past the self-preservation instinct. I often find myself just sitting on the floor outside, unable to come up with a reason to move. I don’t want to do this any more.

Talk to someone – except I know what they’ll say, they’ll tell me I have to be more positive, I have to get a hobby, life is just hard and you have to deal with it. What’s the point of talking to someone who is only going to roll out the solutions anyone will give you, the same ones everyone uses. They don’t work for me. I know the solutions, I’ve read lots of books on philosophy and psychology in an attempt to understand why I’m the way I am, none of them really helps. If I could change the way I am I would, what I really need is a Reset button like on my computer. Something which would just wipe all the rubbish from my head so I could start again. Of course you can’t, so that’s pointless thought. I always end up in the same place. There’s no-one to talk to, only me and my gradually developing psychosis. I try to deal with it but often I end up just crying in the corner.

I can’t deal with it and I can’t tell anyone I can’t deal with it. The people I might talk to have nothing useful to offer and would just get upset at the prospect of me jumping off a bridge or whatever. I’ll just stop whining and get on with it I suppose. Once I’m dead I won’t have to deal with it.

numb?

zaxafratl — Sun, 20 Jun 2010 19:48:55 +0000

Having spent a week in the most debauched town in Europe, I can say without doubt I am old and tired and really have to focus on giving up because the only remnant, my instinctive reaction to beauty is just embarrassing.

It’s all so completely fucking pointless. I won’t stop though, I’ll carry on because I’m a cunt. No matter how much I punch myself in the head I’ll carry on being a cunt. The only recourse is the one I’ve used for a long time – numb myself until I can’t feel it any more, with whatever comes to hand. If you think it’s wrong, try living on a planet full of crazy idiot apes when you’re an alien from an intelligent race who only came here for a visit and got stuck. I find myself, with increasing frequency, just sitting there crying. I can’t do this any more. It doesn’t seem to help and I don’t actually get anywhere but I feel this kind of sick desperation and a feeling that whatever I do it won’t make any difference. I’ve had enough, I just wish I had the courage to do something about it.

There was at least one high point – the screaming in my head actually stopped for a while when I was thinking about it. I figured out some of non-Euclidean geometry and its relationship to relativity – if there’s a cone sticking out of a plane which 2-d creatures live in, the area inside the cone will exhibit strange attributes since they can’t perceive the cone, only its effects. If only we could talk to Heisenberg’s girlfriend.

pay attention

zaxafratl — Thu, 10 Jun 2010 16:41:37 +0000

Not in the way I normally mean it, where I’m punching myself in the head because I didn’t. This is about finding out how to stop. I have to pay attention. I’ve noticed I drift off and let the rubbish in my head overlay what I can see. Then I look at a situation and think “oh this is going to be bad” – then it is, sometimes because of some ignorant scum in a car trying to run me off the road, sometimes because I think it’s going to be. I have to maintain focus to prevent myself inventing it, which is hard to do all day. See how long you can keep one thought in your head without being distracted. It’s quite difficult to do for any extended period.

guns

zaxafratl — Thu, 10 Jun 2010 11:20:43 +0000

There’s an old saying that guns don’t kill people, people do. Of course, if you don’t have a gun you can’t kill anyone with it. Which is not to say that I think people shouldn’t be allowed to have guns. There are many other ways to kill someone. You could kill them with a car – this happens to hundreds of people every year (http://www.dft.gov.uk/pgr/statistics/datatablespublications/accidents/casualtiesmr/) but no-one wants to ban cars, do they? Well, other than me that is.

As usual the wittering classes in the city who think that everyone wants to live their wine bar/coffee shop lives instantly assume that guns should be banned because of one very sick man. Just as foxes should be banned, no doubt. I mean, they just don’t look good with the Prada bag, do they darling?

A gun in the right hands is a good thing. It can feed and protect you. There have been calls to arm the police. You can’t do that either. Many police officers could not be trusted with a gun. I’ve met some who were definitely capable, ex-military often (although that’s no guarantee) and sensible, calm, rational people. I’ve met others who were just thugs with a uniform. I know one, for example, who openly says he joined the police because he’s allowed to beat people up. He’s not kidding. There’s also the statistics from America, where in New York over half the police officers who are shot are shot with their own weapon… Having a gun doesn’t offer the control people think it does. Anyway, the law is something we consent to, not something that is forced on us against our will, at least in theory. It means that the Amerkin idea of someone deserving arrest for having the audacity to not be subservient enough to the authority of the officer just doesn’t hold water.

I think the problem is that this is a more extreme case of the general problem of poor funding and a lack of support for those police who try to do their job well. Government by marketing people, so it’s all about messages and appearances, instead of substance and action. This is why we have jumped up security guards dressed as police, rather than real police.

Some people shouldn’t be allowed guns. Me, for example. I’d only start shooting yuppies one day – or myself. Others are quite safe. It’s not something that you can simplify into black and white, which is why the idiot masses and the media have so much trouble with it I suppose.

manic

zaxafratl — Thu, 03 Jun 2010 14:18:44 +0000

The thing about mania is that it goes up as much as down. Today I decided to try a new thing. It may work, it feels better. People are still scum but if you treat them like something to wade through they’re easier to deal with. Don’t talk to them. Don’t interact with them. Imagine they are long grass or trees, maybe sand. You simply have to get through them.

I’ve combined it with the other idea I had, based on various things I’ve read. Just stop from time to time and think about how you feel and why. Consider how you got from where you were last time you thought about it to where you are now. It’s quite effective. It allows me to take a more objective view, so I don’t get involved in what’s happening. Getting angry at a world which doesn’t give a shit is counter-productive.

I still found myself talking to a girl at one point. It seems very difficult to control the reaction to beautiful women. I suppose the same sort of thing might work. Get used to it, learn to accept and ignore it. Rather than try to suppress how you feel, accept it and acknowledge it as real but irrelevant. I want that chocolate cake. Since I don’t have any money I can’t have it, so I move on. The need for the chocolate cake becomes less oppressive, just a thing which catches my eye without being overbearing.

Doing patterns every day helps too. They help with many things. The repeated movements, the energy expended, the familiarity of the movement, it takes me to a place where time drifts away and the outside world becomes faded and quiet.

I can still feel the screaming though. The readiness to explode at short notice. The urge to smash my head open on the wall. Not getting more than five hours sleep a night helps to restrain it but as always it’s barely under control. It’s a good job I’m such a coward or it might get out more. If I can just stick to not speaking to the humans I might be able to get by.

Well, I’ll see how effective it is when I crash again.

london is a shithole

zaxafratl — Tue, 01 Jun 2010 19:17:26 +0000

I’m sick of London. If I wasn’t such a chickenshit I’d have stabbed one of the bastards by now. As it is I just find myself stuck in a shitty, overcrowded, dirty town constantly pushed at by arseholes. If I had any balls I’d do something about it but as I’ve said before I don’t. I hate it here. My efforts to get out continue but in the meantime I’m trying to find a way to cope with being surrounded by yuppies, whores and tourists all day. Not talking to people helps. Just don’t say anything unless you absolutely have to. Mostly I nod or grunt, which seems to pass for communication with many of the monkeys. I saw that Boris Johnson the other day trying to act as if he cares about cyclists. I know you only do it because being ‘green’ is trendy so you think more plebs will vote for you. Which is odd – surely they’d have let you in on how voting doesn’t count for anything significant. Maybe it affects your job since the whole idea of Mayor of London seems to be a PR stunt. It makes it sound like London is a coherent town, rather than a small group of slimy rich ruling elite surrounded by slum-dwelling drones. Painting a few white lines on the road counts for nothing. At the moment the cycle lane is the most dangerous part of the road. That’s when it isn’t full of parked cars or motorbikes using it as a race track. Ah well, I’ll be dead soon. Then I won’t have to come to this shithole any more.

sparrow

zaxafratl — Thu, 27 May 2010 15:04:18 +0000

I saw this bug flying along the railway at the station. It had a big mealworm type body and wings which weren’t very effective, so I was walking along the platform next to it watching when something flashed past and the bug was gone – it was a sparrow. He promptly pulled off its wings and ate it before he went off after another one. It was really cool watching him doing really acrobatic flying grabbing these bugs as they went by.

mirrors

zaxafratl — Thu, 20 May 2010 21:19:03 +0000

I have to avoid mirrors. What do you see when you look in a mirror? Does it make you feel sick? Does it make you say “I hate you” and spit at it?

All I have is a head full of memories I don’t want. I hate myself, I hate the scum who helped me to fuck up my life. I pity the people who tried to help me, unaware of how I was just feeding off them. I hate myself. Maybe one of these days I’ll manage to put an end to it.

why do you punch yourself in the head?

zaxafratl — Thu, 20 May 2010 13:05:28 +0000

As I’m moderately intelligent I am capable of wrapping the most spurious bullshit in language which makes it sound like a logical argument. Hence my constant referral to the one thing I still believe is true – none of this is really happening. It is what you think it is and because of that everything I say is bollocks, since I am not you so I don’t observe your universe. It might be like mine, it might not. There’s no way to tell. It’s why I keep trying to get myself to shut up. It doesn’t work though, so I constantly find myself in that state I mentioned where I’m so angry I want to stab myself or something. It’s why I made this blog, so I’d have somewhere to put the rubbish which goes through my head and not have to say it to people. None of my schemes work ultimately, so I end up back there, seething with rage at my own inability to live up to the standards I set myself. I should lower my standards, perhaps – that wouldn’t shut the voices in my head up. Not voices, per se, more like like thoughts. I know it’s me but it’s like when you wonder to yourself whether to turn left or right – who are you talking to? For me they talk back. Mostly they whine about things I can’t change. They take great delight in constantly reminding me of every mistake I ever made, replaying it in fine detail, pointing out my mistakes. They NEVER have anything useful to add, only recriminiations. They never pipe up before the event, only afterwards when they can lecture me about my failings with the benefit of hindsight.

The point here is that you shouldn’t listen to anything I say. I have no useful advice for you. I’m a cunt.

oh, aren’t you clever?

zaxafratl — Tue, 18 May 2010 14:27:25 +0000

If you’re weak, like me, you often think that your witty responses are somehow compensating for it. You convince yourself that you’re better than them because you can come up with a smart response, like some intellectual dogfight where you shot off the most eloquent, cutting insults, leaving your opponent looking foolish and feeling chastised. You’re wrong. You didn’t win anything. You can’t win. Any attempt to compete only lowers you to the level of the apes, fighting for control of resources and breeding opportunities. Everything else you think you perceive is an illusion. You lie to yourself all day.