Author Topic: Insightful Post Dump  (Read 124392 times)

Cramulus

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Re: Insightful Post Dump
« Reply #75 on: November 17, 2008, 08:58:39 pm »
*Note: any information/links that anyone has to talks about a 2nd ed. BIP pamphlet would be greatly appreciated. If no such thing exists yet, then it may be worth revisiting the pamphlet for revisions.

actually, my critique was relevant to the first edition BIP pamphlet...
the one you've read is probably the second edition one.

If it had graphics, it's the 2nd edition.

Ah, I see. Would you like me to remove the post because of lack of relevancy, then, or would you prefer I kept it up for historical significance? My vote is for the latter (it is, after all, still a well-written critique), but I'll go with the herd on this one.

oh it's cool, keep it. I just wanted to clarify - I made a BIP edition that addressed most of the stuff in that post.



FWIW, I'd like to have the original version back up on the wiki, just for historicaly perspective if for no other reasons.  Or am I the only sentimental spag around here?  So, LMNO, if you find it send me a PM and I'll give you my e-mail addy. 

I agree. And also, I liked the cover on the first BIP better.



Manta Obscura

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Re: Insightful Post Dump
« Reply #76 on: November 17, 2008, 10:16:17 pm »
From Horab's rant entitled "Fuck Robert Anton Wilson." One-sided and brash, but it raises a few good points:

fuck da police!
    -NWA


"You'd PAY to know what you REALLY think."
-Dobbs 1961


and fuck all those other pseudo bullshit futurist writers who you've read, adored, and now think exactly alike and quote at every waiting turn.

fuck them! they sold you a book and you bought their mind and thought processes and can't seem to get away from it. what have they written that you can't see beyond? what have they pretensed that you cannot out pretence.  the only reason,  or at least one of the only reasons, they haven't told you to do teh same is simple. they make a living outof telling you how to think, how to arrange your attitudes, how to keep an open mind according to their guidelines, how to be come a medium to the dogstar sirius aliens, how to prepare for timewave zero to collapse in 2012, how to fuck like a weirdo cuz missionary is for norms only.

fuck neil gaiman, terrence mckenna, robert anton wilson, and especially an other fuck who goes around making money off the counterculture.  fuck the counterculture. the counterculture became so intolerably saturated by capitalism before i was ever born that i can now invest itn eh upcoming counterculture blockbuster from the safety of my own home.

fuck that shit. if these guys were selling such incredible truths,they wouldn't ask you to buy it, they be throing off their clothes and preachign the word from teh streets, writing their workls on the walls, and beating verses relentlessy into lost lawyers and politicians.


their bullshit has become your truth
don't shy away from admitting it, even the great RAW him self has admitted he is full of shit, and i'm not about to do any different.
if reality is what you can get away with, Robert Anton Wilson and his contemporaries have got yall by the fucking balls, or filopian tubes as the case may be.

and for goddes' sake! stop quoting the monsters! is tehre anything worse than the mental enslavement to a supposedly freethinking writer's quotations?oen ofrm of idiocy replaces another, one becomes ever ignorant ont eh pretence of knowing better, one becomes a slave to the promiser of freedom. quote that motherfuckers!.

so what can you do to free yourself of tis venomus plague? what can you do to regain your own mind and thoughts? 

take that futurist collection and BURN IT! save teh cover pages tho, and use them as toilet paper. then send said toilet paper with a hearty fuck you! written on it to the author of the work.
Everything I wish for myself, I wish for you also.

hoopla

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Re: Insightful Post Dump
« Reply #77 on: November 18, 2008, 02:09:47 am »
From One-Eyed Thayne Magee:

if i told you..absolutely they would kill me...and no tin hat would save me - nikola tesla

 the other night i was watching the demons crawl out of the woodwork again, which is why caulking is so damned important. if you caulk it hard enough and tight enough the demons can't get out of the fucking walls and suck your one remaining eyeball right out of your head. anyway, one of these demons kind of oozed up to me and said, "thayne, old buddy. you do realize that your very own government killed nikola tesla right? they let him live long enough to drain his brains dry of every idea he ever had, and then they killed him."

"and you're next boy. you're next. only they won't keep you alive long enough for you to spit. because after all, what does the uncle sammy want with heated toilet paper, floating lawn chairs and seeing-eye armadillos? well okay, so they might like the tp idea, but you know damn well they'd keep it for the bigwigs and let the little fellows continue to freeze their nuts off, right? of course right."

and i thought to myself, thayne, i thought, big brother is everywhere. and it's just like the old lady always says "goddammit,  leave your glass eye at home next time you go on a bender down at harold's lounge or it's just dejavu like when the cops  haul you away and you kick the cop in the knee and they cuff your feet together so even if you kick open the back door of the cop car and try to hop away (again), the truth is the police can run faster than you when you're cuffed at  the ankles. and you know they'll throw you back in the drunk tank where they don't care what happened to your glass eye, or maybe they took it and spit on it or are saving it for their hallooween costumes, or for a trophy. yeah, that's it a trophy eye hanging on the wall of the break room down at the jail. even if you get it back you don't know where it's been."

so anyway, back to nikola tesla, the fucking genius who immigrated here from Serbia , and either knew transmigration or teleportation or else had tunnels under his house that led to his secret lab. but then one day he decided to do things much as an ordinary man would and got hit by a car while crossing the road and died in the street like a dog and the fbi came in and took all his papers and his secrets when they raided his place. but he got revenge and the last laugh because the fuckers tried to photograph tesla in his casket and the photo blurred and they were unable to make the camera focus on his face. there's not one death picture of his face which is the way he wanted it. the question that begs here is this: what good is the last laugh if you're dead?

the moral of this rant is listen to your old lady, but not her mother.  leave your glass eye at home, never forget your ankles are cuffed and the man can run faster, caulk those cracks in the woodwork, dig your tunnels deep and don't cross the road like everyone else, or the they'll get you next.

your friend,
thayne
Soon all of us will have special names Professor Brian OBlivion

"Now's not the time to get silly, so wear your big boots and jump on the garbage clowns." Bob Dylan?

"Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes" Walt Whitman

hoopla

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Re: Insightful Post Dump
« Reply #78 on: November 18, 2008, 02:11:52 am »
From RBG, aka Rabid Badger of God, aka Badge of Honor:

If you're going to bullshit for bullshit's sake, at least have the decency to make your own.  Stop analyzing, quoting, arguing with, and making clever references to any of the so-called "seminal Discordian(tm) texts". 

Sure, they're a Real Head Trip, but clever wears itself out real, real fast, and it's getting on 30-40 years since this crap has been floating around.  That's longer than you've been alive, I wager.  RAW and Mal-2 were stoned when they wrote that shit anyway.  I bet they're embarassed by people like you who take them seriously.  If you keep this up they'll be the new L. Ron Hubbard, and Discordianism(tm) will be the new Scientology.  Do you really want that?  Do you?  Huh?! 


Being a Real Discordian(tm) involves having a finely tuned sense of irony.  We've all been through it.  Is it a joke?  Is a religion?  Is it a religion disguised as a joke disguised as a religion disguised as a philosophy disguised as a joke?  If it's a joke, am I supposed to laugh?  How come nobody else is laughing?  Oh god, They're watching me again!

*cough*

Anyway, Discordianism(tm) is kind of like Ramen noodles.  There's lots of kinds, but it takes a special sort of appetite for them to be worth eating, especially considering the net negative nutritional gain. Is it worth the effort, or should you just order a college special from Jeebus Pizza?  Or maybe just be a regular ol' atheist.  I hear they've unionised.  Maybe you should try it.




So, you're still here.  I never have the patience to read the long posts.  Hell, I've never read all of the Principia Discordia(tm).  Even if I did, I wouldn't remember it.  I can quote, "Munching on the tasty grass, the sacred chao goes 'mu'" but it took a lot of effort and I'm so not into that.  But I'm also not into bullshitting for bullshit's sake.  I'm just easily amused.  That's why I'm here.  Sometimes that's why I'm not here. 

So shut up, take a look around with your eyes open this time, and "make your own trip" or whatever it is they used to say.
Soon all of us will have special names Professor Brian OBlivion

"Now's not the time to get silly, so wear your big boots and jump on the garbage clowns." Bob Dylan?

"Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes" Walt Whitman

Manta Obscura

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Re: Insightful Post Dump
« Reply #79 on: November 18, 2008, 04:20:16 pm »
From LMNO's post, "A Problem with the Message." This is a good thought to consider for people who are already used to the BIP stuff:

So, I was at a party the other night.  As I am of a certain age, it was a cocktail party, wine, hors de oeuvres, all that stuff.  Anyway, I was shooting the shit with some yuppie woman who works with my wife, and the subject of philosophy came up.  After a bit of back and forth, I decided to broach the subject of the BIP principles.

So, the first think I think is that people need to think for themselves.

Yeah, of course.

Well, the second thing is that because of the way we perceive things, were limited in the amount of  the Universe we can objectively sense.

Mmm-hmm.

ĶAnd, um, so were sort of trapped by our own frameworks of the way we see reality.

Okay, sure.  But her eyes were as dead as any corpse.

And thats when I realized something:  A lot of what were trying to say here are things that just about everybody will agree with.  I mean, whos going to disagree with a suggestion to think for themselves?  The main problem isnt that people dont understand the BIP, its that they dont think it applies to them, or that theyve already dealt with the problem.  How many American Idol fans think theyre independent thinkers because they voted for one of the losers? 

Is this, then, one of the really real reasons behind O:M?  To make people really understand these principles?  How can you make a person whos convinced that they think for themselves and believe that they understand the scarcity of their perceptions actually realize it?

Then another thought struck me:  What if the BIP simply doesnt matter?  What if its just another artificial construct that we thought up to try to make ourselves seem important and insightful?

At that point, I got drunk and ornery, and my wife drove us home.

Everything I wish for myself, I wish for you also.

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Re: Insightful Post Dump
« Reply #80 on: November 18, 2008, 04:22:34 pm »
Cainad's original post in the Awful Jokes thread. Not so much "insightful as it is "lulz-worthy":

This thread is for sharing the worst fucking jokes you know. I'll start.



So there's this fish in a stream, right? And he sees this fly hovering above the water, just out of reach, and he thinks, "man, if that fly would drop just a few inches I could get it."

And then there's this bear next to the stream, looking at the fish, but he can't get it from where he is. He thinks, "Man, if that fly would just drop a few inches, the fish would go for it and I could get the fish!"

Now, there's this hunter hiding in the trees on the other side of the river, and he wants to get the bear, but he can't get a good shot on it. He thinks, "Hey, if that fly drops a few inches, that fish will go for it, the bear will go for the fish, and then the bear will be in a perfect spot for me to hit it!"

And there's this mouse hiding behind the hunter, eyeing the sandwich in his pocket. He thinks, "If that fly drops a few inches, the fish will go for the fly, the bear will go grab the fish, the hunter will move to shoot the bear, and then the sandwich will fall out of the hunter's pocket, where I can get it."

But there's this cat with his eye on the mouse, see. He knows the mouse will dart into its hole if he goes for it now, but then he sees what's going on and thinks, "Woah, if that fly drops a few inches, the fish will go for the fly, the bear will go for the fish, the hunter will drop his sandwich as he moves to shoot the bear, the mouse will go grab the sandwich, and then I'll have it cornered!"

Then it happens! The fly drops a few inches, the fish jumps to get the fly, the bear moves to snatch the fish, the hunter shoots the bear and drops his sandwich, the mouse goes to get the sandwich, and the cat springs to get the mouse. But the cat misses and goes tumbling headfirst into the river, getting completely soaked.


The moral of the story?






It takes a little more than a fly dropping four inches to get a pussy wet.



There's this middle-aged guy who's gone impotent. He decides he wants a permanent fix, rather than taking a pill every time he wants to get it on, so he undergoes this really weird experimental surgery that involves grafting the muscles from the trunk of a baby elephant onto his junk.

After healing up from the surgery, he takes his wife out to a romantic dinner at an expensive restaurant. The waiter takes their drink orders and leaves a basket of dinner rolls on the table.

All of a sudden, the guy feels this really strange sensation "down there." Since the place is dark and no one's around but his wife, he unzips his fly and tries to see what the hell is going on. His dick snakes out of his pants, grabs a roll, and pulls it back in to his pants. His wife gives him a sly look and says, "Could you do that again?"

He replies, "Probably, but I really don't want another dinner roll shoved up my ass."



Two muffins are baking in an oven. The first muffin turns to the other and says, "Wow, it sure is hot in here, isn't it?"
The second muffin says, "Holy shit, a talking muffin!"



What's worse than finding a worm in your apple?
Finding half a worm in your apple!

What's worse than finding half a worm in your apple?
The Holocaust.



A wife turns to her husband and asks, "Why don't we fly to Hawaii this summer?"

He replies, "Because you're a cunt."



Q: What do you call an Arab who flies a plane?



A: A pilot, you fucking racist.



Why do elephants paint their balls red?

So they can hide in cherry trees.




What is the loudest noise in the jungle?

A giraffe eating cherries.



A rather toadish businessman has a wife who is frankly far better looking than he deserves, which consumes him with perpetual jealousy.  However, he must go on a weeklong trip for work and leave her to her own devices.  To test her fidelity, he leaves a jar of cream under the center of their bed.  Right above it under the mattress, he suspends a spoon.  He figures it will have cream on it if she has too much fun while he's away.

A week later he returns home from his trip.  His wife runs up to him in her apron, joyfully embracing and kissing him.  Filled with suspicion he scornfully turns her aside.

"I'll see just how faithful you've been, woman," and rushes to their bedroom.  He reaches under the bed and pulls out the jar.  It's filled with butter.

Everything I wish for myself, I wish for you also.

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Re: Insightful Post Dump
« Reply #81 on: November 18, 2008, 04:47:57 pm »
From Enki in the "Intermittens Staff Signup" thread. It is a compilation of his one-line memebombs, as well as some other writings:

Sure.

http://namcub.accela-labs.com/stories/ebooks/magick/f676fc638.txt <-- this is the big list someone else compiled. It seems to be in alphabetical order.

I stuck a couple of my documents in http://namcub.accela-labs.com/stories/ebooks/MITTENS


Everything I wish for myself, I wish for you also.

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Re: Insightful Post Dump
« Reply #82 on: November 18, 2008, 04:51:32 pm »
A response from Horab to someone's call to meditate for peace. It contains some grammar and spelling mistakes, but otherwise it is quite interesting:

being in constant meditation i scoff at the fad/trend driven capitlaist ploy submitted herewith. where are the links to your "meditate for peace!" t-shirts and "buddha is sexy" male thongs? be out with it interloper! in teh name of norton i compel thee!

world peace would eb boring, and probaly conatin no video games with bloody carnage and/or the slaughter of innocent civilians. and as such, i am philosophically, morally and evoluationarily opposed to such a state of existence.

give war a chance. peace is for people who's parents are rich enough to send them jetsetting across teh world adn carry a sign between coffee that was picked by the indentured third world slaves employed by their daddy and offered at a 30% discount.

"wrap yourself in the void continuously and ye may know greatness."
Everything I wish for myself, I wish for you also.

hoopla

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Re: Insightful Post Dump
« Reply #83 on: November 18, 2008, 05:01:57 pm »
A response from Horab to someone's call to meditate for peace. It contains some grammar and spelling mistakes


HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Soon all of us will have special names Professor Brian OBlivion

"Now's not the time to get silly, so wear your big boots and jump on the garbage clowns." Bob Dylan?

"Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes" Walt Whitman

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Re: Insightful Post Dump
« Reply #84 on: November 18, 2008, 08:01:04 pm »
From Pent. Can't remember the thread name:

The king is on his throne
lives his life down to the bone
he's so very far from home
break a leg motherfucker

I been living in a dream
the sublime to the obscene
when I wake a want to scream
but it turns into a stutter

cos Ive seen this all before
sick and tired but yell for more
I'm romancing painted whores
who only lust for money

Money talks and money sings
money takes and money brings
all those captivating strings
tie the knot around my freedom

Like a shadow on the corner
underneath the streetlights glow
Where the diamonds on the sidewalk
are a deadly undertow

I will give my love a symbol
then I'll look her in the eye
show the gold behind the window
then I'll lay me down to die
Everything I wish for myself, I wish for you also.

hoopla

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Re: Insightful Post Dump
« Reply #85 on: November 19, 2008, 04:07:40 am »
More horn-tooting:

On a day just like today, except that it was a Wednesday, a man named Oxo awoke from a nightmare to realize that the nightmare is never fully awoken from.  He rolled onto his side, pulled the rough green blanket over his head, and tried to recall what he had been dreaming about.

He recalled vaguely that in his dream the world was filled to the brim with simpering idiots who held high-paying jobs in delicate positions, he recalled that people nattered endlessly to one another on a small glowing box, although all were nattering and none were listening.  He recalled that children were popping out of Coke machines into plastic diapers where they were whisked away by people who plopped them in front of another glowing box.  The glowing box showed the kids how to be polite; how to do what they are told; taught that difference was good, despite the fact that they were shown the opposite day in and day out.

Oxo recalled that in the dream he was required to go out into the cold every single day, stick his arm into something like a coffee machine to have his precious bodily fluids extracted, bled into a tube which shot up to feed the spindly-legged tall ones upstairs, who sucked the sweet nectar from long grey straws while adjusting the small black nattering rectangles on their ears.

Oxo recalled that one of the only relief from this terror was a large room where people would group together to watch flickering images of cyborgs imitating their own movements.  The cyborgs had been like them at some point, but had been, piece-by-piece, dismantled and replaced with polished rice teeth, shiny orange skin, glazed yellow hair, hollow empty eyes, and even less soul.  As they walked out of these gatherings small tabloid pamphlets were thrust into their hands to give them intimate details about what the cyborgs ate, drank, slept with, talked about, thought about . . . all with the constant insinuation that the cyborgs are better than you, why can't you be more like the cyborgs?

Other than the gathering rooms the only relief was a tiny pill which blurred the world and made things seem very far away and dreamy.  The pill was very popular with people, and it made people easier to deal with, yet the pill was actually banned.  People had to hide in alleys and scratch at doors in the night to gain access to the pill.  Oxo knew why, too, he knew that the only way to keep the people pliable was by keeping them afraid, so they kept the pill banned to keep the fear, but also kept the pill easily accessible to keep the people in line. 

Oxo let out a long, defeated breath, then pulled himself up to look out the curtains at the world below.  The mustard curtains parted revealing the brittle ridiculous world below, and at once Oxo knew; he had not awakened.
Soon all of us will have special names Professor Brian OBlivion

"Now's not the time to get silly, so wear your big boots and jump on the garbage clowns." Bob Dylan?

"Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes" Walt Whitman

hoopla

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Re: Insightful Post Dump
« Reply #86 on: November 19, 2008, 04:10:31 am »
And more:


1. When the world was still young and called Pangaea by the gods, a man came from out of the sea clad in robes of black and scarlet, his hair was long and brilliant ivory white; his skin a powdery light grey; his eyes golden. He beheld the inhabitants of Pangaea: little more than Hairless Apes, with no idea of Intelligence; Consciousness; Morality; Illumination; Credit Rating . . . these were little more than common animals. He pulled himself up to his full height, placed his slim smooth hand onto his chest, and said in a strong, beautiful melodious tone: ZAURN. The Hairless Apes looked up at him, scratched their heads, scratched their crotches, sniffed their hands, then looked back up at Zaurn the Wise. Zaurn pointed at one of the Hairless Apes, and said forcefully: MAN. Then, he placed his hand back on his own chest and repeated: ZAURN. One ape scratched his chin, cocked his head to the side and repeated: "Zaurn." Thus was communication known to Humanity.

2. Soon after the Hairless Apes conquered speech Zaurn the Magnificent blew their minds anew. He wrote on a nearby wall his name, which at that time was spelled: IA. He gestured to the name, IA, then told the Hairless Apes that it referred to himself. One ape scratched his balls, approached the writing on the wall, pointed to it, then pointed at Zaurn the Brilliant, saying "Zaurn." Thus was writing and graffito known to Humanity.

3. Zaurn then instructed the Hairless Apes that they really must name everything, for If It Is Not Named: It Does Not Exist. The apes quickly began to name everything around them, with various levels of success: if a good word didn't immediately present itself they would make up a word on the spot, such as "boob" or "diarrhea", thinking a better word would eventually present itself in the future.

4. Zaurn the Verbose was pleased, and his golden eyes twinkled, but mentioned that there was still much more for the Hairless Apes to learn, for he had yet to teach them about the important concepts of RIGHT and WRONG, which were intrinsically intertwined with the heavy concepts of GOOD and EVIL . . . it would take a long time to explain these Objective Truths to the apes, and an even longer time to get into the esoteric concepts of WORK and LAZINESS, not to mention such crucial topics as NORMALCY.

5. Once the apes knew what was RIGHT and what was WRONG, Zaurn the Grey was truly delighted: the Hairless Apes were both Free and Trapped simultaneously, just as EIEIO, the Goddess of All had intended. EIEIO, the Great Kaos, had sent Zaurn the Grey to the Hairless Apes to both free and ensnare their minds: giving them the gifts of speech and communication so that they may be able to form thoughts and thus become more than they are;, while at the same time having these thoughts bind and constrict their ideas, through endless labeling and defining so that it takes true imagination and magick to break beyond.
Soon all of us will have special names Professor Brian OBlivion

"Now's not the time to get silly, so wear your big boots and jump on the garbage clowns." Bob Dylan?

"Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes" Walt Whitman

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Re: Insightful Post Dump
« Reply #87 on: November 19, 2008, 01:54:05 pm »
I really like that third one, Hoopla.
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Re: Insightful Post Dump
« Reply #88 on: November 20, 2008, 02:52:11 pm »
This is a godly post by bones in "Wade":

Hey, um.. Wade?

I know we haven't really spoken before, and maybe this will seem unfounded and very sudden, but I can't go on living this lie, admiring you from the shadows where I skulk. In the short time I have been following your posts here I think, well, I think I have fallen madly and deeply in love with you.
I find your little noggin to be just the most adorable thing I've ever seen, and though you seem to not always get along perfectly with the other posters here, I find that throughout all the drama you maintain a charm and dignity that is second to none.

I adore you unashamedly and I want to announce my passion to the whole world. I want to climb a mountain and scream my love for you for all to hear. I want to wrap my gangly arms around your sweet little face and hold you close to me forever. And, just in case you're at all up for it, I'll just let it be known here and now that I wouldn't be totally against the idea of lubing up your head real good and seeing if it would fit through my quivering, puckering sphincter.

I don't know how you will react to this, and I don't really expect or want anything from you, except I strongly hope that you keep up the good work. I'm not even gay, but a chap like you can really turn a guy's head.

I just really thought it was time I let you know.
I'm here for you, and my balls yearn to bounce on your chin

bones,
  embracing his real feelings for the first time, and feeling all tingly
Everything I wish for myself, I wish for you also.

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Re: Insightful Post Dump
« Reply #89 on: November 20, 2008, 03:06:58 pm »
From Cainad in "Cainad's Discordia":

Fucking shitty week.

Nothing worked out. Nothing. Everything went completely fucking WRONG.

Flunked a test. Realized that I'm physically weaker than I was only a few years ago. Missed a meeting for not one, but two clubs that I was really excited to be a part of. Then, while I'm tallying up these failures in my head, I get reminded that I missed an important meeting that night. I laugh it off to the person who said it, then slink back to my room. I sit down and suddenly one more thing pops into my head: I have two assignments due, and I cannot possibly finish both. Holy fucking shit.
You know the kind of week I'm talking about. You've had 'em.

If you're anything like me (you poor soul), it really kills your whole evening. There's no alcohol or tobacco to be had, so you go to bed with a clear head to contemplate how pissed off you are. The darkness and the quiet will give your mind space to think about everything; to absorb and digest every little failure in all its hideous glory. And when you're this full of anger and frustration, bed starts to look pretty good really fast. This shit tires you out. So I think I'll go to bed, let the bile stew, and see how I feel tomorrow. It's worked in the past.

Wait.

No.

If you're like me, it hasn't worked in the past. Not once in the countless number of times that I've been this pissed has "sleeping it off" worked.

If you're like me, you might recognize this as the early stages of depression. Bad depression. The kind where you hate everything but you hate yourself just as much (or more) because you know it's partly, if not mostly, your own damn fault.

My own damn fault.

Okay. I've done this before, I think to myself. A relatively intelligent man once said that insanity is doing the same thing over and over again while expecting different results. I've been through this before. I remember that mulling over my own frustration and misery until I pass out was what I did last time. I remember the vicious cycle: self-loathing and apathy lead to more self-loathing and apathy.

The cycle.

Repetition. Doing the same thing again, expecting things to turn out better. Or just falling into the same bottomless pit and not giving a shit how far down I go.
I may be a bit screwed up in the head and I may be weird by many people's standards, but I'm not insane. Not by that definition.

So I try something different. I go for a walk, even though it's starting to get chilly outside. I remember that worked once, even though it was a different situation. Walking helps. Once I get outside, I'm not tired anymore. The blood rushes back into my body, presumably away from the part of my brain that focuses on how much I hate everything and myself.

Now comes the painful part. This is where I contemplate how fucking pathetic it is that one shitty week will leave me horribly depressed for a month.

"But at least you know you can survive it, right? It's happened before. The people who love you will shield you from the worst the world has to offer, and once you've spent some time with the shrink and taken your pills you'll be back on your feet and you can start again."

"Yeah, but that plan kinda sucks. I can't ask my parents to keep being my safety net. I mean, shit, I have to grow up pretty damn soon, if not right now. On the other hand, if I try to tough it out, things might just get worse and I don't know if I can handle all that failure."

Hey, what the hell?

That's weird. I never noticed this dialogue before from a third perspective. Looks like the competing parts of my mind are both focusing on failure. Well, shit, no wonder this kind of thing never worked out well in the past!

I think back to the Black Iron Prison. I feel around the bars and notice a few that seem particularly foreboding. Frighteningly strong. These are the bars of my failures. Or rather, they are my preoccupation with failure and inadequacy. These are the bars of my depression. In an effort to prevent more devastating failure and misery, I've hidden behind these bars and let them keep me from venturing out into the world and trying again.

I recognize now that it doesn't work. It never worked. Yet I've done it many times before, and it terrifies me to think of going out into that cruel world that will put me to many tests that I will no doubt fail. I am afraid to change the way my mind works, to let go of my past losses and seek opportunities to make amends. I am torn in an internal struggle.

Strife. Discord. Change.

The Black Iron Bars. They're strong, but... I made them. Now that I can see that, I can tear them out.

Don't think that it was easy, or that it was fun. Sometimes, tearing out those prison bars, forcibly changing the pathways of your mind, hurts. A lot. But I did it anyway. No more focus on failures. I decide not to even think any more about this horrible fucking week. Then, I finally let myself go to bed, my mind suitably blank.

The next day, I don't feel too bad. It's still sort of a crummy day, but still I focus on not focusing on the previous several days. The day after that isn't all that great either, but I keep it up. Sure, the memories intrude, but the important thing is that I don't dwell on them. Let the thoughts come, and let them pass. In other words, I'm okay.

On the third day, something cool happens. I'm lucky enough to get a ride to an event that I thought I was going to have to miss because I was stupid and forgot to arrange transportation. I realize what just happened: I snagged an opportunity that I would not have if I'd let the misery overtake me. Depression would have kept me in my room and I wouldn't have been able to take advantage of that one guy who was going to the same place and was late. One less failure that would have happened if I'd stuck to my old habits.

It worked. I'm okay.

Not many things in this world feel better than feeling "okay," and right now I owe that feeling to Discordianism. My Discordia.
Everything I wish for myself, I wish for you also.