My mom found out she had HIV when I was two months old. He has a new family now. Threw out his old one when I was thirteen. Kept me. Threw me away when I wasn’t good enough. Apologized. Threw me away again.
×many years and cycles, through track, ROTC, college breakdown, and years of useless piece of shit after
I think I work WITH the CIA, or FBI, or Illuminati, or maybe the aliens put a bug in my head
It’s GOD, obviously!
People are like that, especially adults. I don’t know what’s up with them, but they can’t seem to accept their kid having illnesses. You can’t just put yourself to fuck a man and say “damn, my kid will be great!”, you need to be ready for things. What if my kid comes schizophrenic? What if they get bullied?
Mom can’t see me having hallucinations without saying I’m “on devil’s influence”. She put me on catechesis, even.
Hit her with the ol’ Server, Client, Holy Internet to reveal that she is operating on a surface level of Christian theology. All we say goes through the Father, to whom we are wholly connected, as the Roman Dodecahedron is a pedagogical object meant to teach.
(Rome mentioned!!!)
What even is this image And yes she knows the internet. Hates it. Says the Internet is Satan’s thing.
It is a Roman Dodecahedron. This is the common person’s understanding of this object:
The idea, this is a strange object this is found in many wealthy finds; meaning it is found alongside other valuable objects. Most people think we have no idea what these are. This is false. They are an occult pedagogical object meant to teach what Indra’s Net is like a diagram in a textbook.
“Occult” just means “hidden.” Y’see, in the occident, the west, we engineer our culture to control those people who cannot think for themselves while guiding those waking up to the truth of the topological matrix (what causes the shadows on Plato’s cave walls). For instance, the Illuminati was an aspect of the police state that guided people waking up to half-truths into the occult while catching those people who just wanted to burn the church to the ground.
You are not a featherless biped on an Earth. You are a pocket of consciousness and the Earth is inside you, just as all you experience is self-contained in your “neurons.” You are a monad in a monadic nodal communication system; Server, Client, Holy Internet (Father, Son, Holy Spirit). Everything you experience is spoken to you from a singular source. You set your intention in each moment to entangle yourself with the symbols you are sent, and the resulting procedural generation of your reality is what the Buddha called Karma.
Cool explanation, but… what was the dodecahedron used for?
It’s a pedagogical object. It is used to teach this concept. It is like a diagram in a textbook before textbooks existed.
Oh. Don’t know why I didn’t think of such.
I think I work WITH the CIA, or FBI, or Illuminati, or maybe the aliens put a bug in my head
This is your reminder to take your meds.
And this is the internet’s reminder for the 1300th time, I am, and I am going to talk with my one doctor to get off this one seizure medication that has some benefits to bipolar-related disorders, but I will take it until I get switched. I’m on all my other meds. This is just how I am. I told my ROTC cadre that my nonexistent sister got me pregnant because I judged the wrath of my father more of a threat than the United States Military, and now I stare at goats, which is a cultural reference, but at the same time, I am a genuinely hurting, in pain, agony, hell on Earth type human being, you judgmental savage.
Sounds a little like your dad’s mental health is not in a healthy place either. Sorry this happened to you. i hope you find love and a better healthier life. <3
Thank you :)
You get the third “paragraph” in my Lemmy writing here?
In WWI, the British Navy painted their ships all sorts of angled n abstract, black and white patterns that made them easier to spot but made it harder to determine their heading, speed, and range. Dubbed “dazzle camouflage,” this basic strategy of not needing to hide something to protect it can be applied to other fields! :)
Can’t tell if you’re spiraling or if this is some poorly coded bot posting gibberish.
I am schizoaffective and autistic with PTSD. I have had a horrible life, yet a great life too. I was once a scourge, an edglord. I have done so much to heal and yet I am still broken. I am hurting. This is my art; I have an educational (f)art project where I teach philosophy, spirituality, and mental health skills to help people heal n self-actualize. I post authentically. I am sad as sad can be now. Video games used to be my escapism. Now writing and posting and broadcasting is. I have a long history (originally on Reddit) and I try to reach people to try to teach or illuminate, at least what stands out to them, personally.
Currently, just someone non-judgmental would be really nice.
no one is judging, my friend. we are just trying to understand
There has already been someone to quip “take your meds” as thousands have over the years have, and I’m on them, so that has an innate triggeringness to it, but I see your kindness. Thank you.
When you walk up to a person and scream in their face until they hit you, you’re the problem and not the victim.
And I just want to make sure you understand.
A cop would neeeever do what I do.
This does not say “…and everyone who loves TO practice lying.”
…but I’m just a dog AND a sorcerer, whatever those are, and us plus the undercover cops down there have the sinners surrounded.
…you idoltarer…
Yea, us cops are the problem, not the one who defaults to committing assault, but I just say that to illustrate how your base nature will fail you in this POLICE STATE, cuz I tot3s ant a kop
Jimbaba shibby da lulu, blibity blop.
I don’t speak Quebec
Oh I’m not good enough here either.
No one likes me, except maybe my life partner? Is he setting me up? Did the FBI do this for twelve+ years? I don’t know. I’m alone in this archipelago of a world. You post for a friend in a friend place, you get a friend, eventually. I don’t anymore. I used to be good enough for frens. Not anymore. I get liars. But I love my life partner. I think he loves me, too. That’s where he’s CIA and cute!
But this “bizarreness” of my art is what makes me “subhuman,” I feel in response, to my father. I’m not good enough. I’m not good enough. I’m not good enough.
There’s no sad community. I gotta cone here for my life-long, debilitating, soul-crushing anathema.
