Aspiring to Bullshit

[TheAudience]

Nothing can be grown from the void.

At least you can grow something from Bullshit.

Sometimes, what grows from Bullshit is a regrettable abomination.



I've long resided with Scylla, swallowed into nothing, going along to get along.

But recently I've been feeling the spasms of life returning to me. Clawing to escape, to avoid some fate I've found unpalatable.

Scylla must have finally found me unpalatable as well. Shaken from the quiet. Disgorged into awareness. Left to flail and flag among the waves.

And so I swim from familiar torment to uncertain future. My head only intermittently high enough above the turbulence to catch my shifting bearings. Before plunging back to a pumping rhythm of arms and legs.

In the moments of clarity, I can see the stronger twin of my long time captor. Charybdis, thrashing the throngs in her snare, her countless limbs colliding countless howling victims, cranium to cranium. A fate somehow even less palatable to me than the one I was trying to escape. For now, she is still a ways off.

I aspire to be more than nothing. I fear what the world does to those who become something.

[POFP]

I love it! Very well done.

I also feel this internal struggle. Finding the balance between worthless turd and viral diarrhea epidemic is more art than science. This is makes it harder for those who deal in the logical, and especially those who've suppressed (Sometimes out of necessity) the emotional.

[Cramulus]

The path between the two is narrow, but don't hesitate, or the current will take you back.



I thought maybe I could share a few quatrains from the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, as a digestif.




So when at last the Angel of the drink
of Darkness finds you by the river-brink,
   And, proferring his Cup, invites your Soul
Forth to your lips to quaff it--do not shrink.

And fear not lest Existence closing your
Account, should lose, or know the type no more;
    The Eternak Saki from that Bowl has pour'd
Millions of Bubbles like us, and will pour.

When You and I behind the Veil are past,
Oh, but the long long while the World shall last,
    Which of our coming and departure heeds
As much as Ocean of a pebble-cast

One Moment in Annihilation's Waste,
One Moment, the Well of Life to taste---
    The Stars are setting, and the Caravan
Draws to the Dawn of Nothing--Oh, make haste!



But if in vain, down on the stubborn floor
Of Earth, and up to Heaven's unopening Door,
    You gaze To-Day, while You are You--how then
To-morrow, You when shall be You no more?



Oh, threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise!
One thing at least is certain--This Life flies;
    One thing is certain and the rest is Lies;
The Flower that once is blown for ever dies.


Strange, is it not? that of the myriads who
Before us pass'd the door of Darkness through,
    Not one returns to tell us of the Road,
Which to discover we must travel too.

[TheAudience]

I love it! Very well done.

I also feel this internal struggle. Finding the balance between worthless turd and viral diarrhea epidemic is more art than science. This is makes it harder for those who deal in the logical, and especially those who've suppressed (Sometimes out of necessity) the emotional.

I'm glad you enjoyed it. Here's to hoping I can keep practicing that art of balance.
It sounds like you might have some specific experiences in mind regarding self censorship?

[POFP]

I love it! Very well done.

I also feel this internal struggle. Finding the balance between worthless turd and viral diarrhea epidemic is more art than science. This is makes it harder for those who deal in the logical, and especially those who've suppressed (Sometimes out of necessity) the emotional.

I'm glad you enjoyed it. Here's to hoping I can keep practicing that art of balance.
It sounds like you might have some specific experiences in mind regarding self censorship?

I spent most of my early to late childhood suppressing emotions and expression, mostly to cope with the extremely unstable and emotionally and physically abusive environment I was in during my much younger years (My first conscious memories would read like a Birth of a Killer Novel.). As I got older, my interests centered around the Logical in computers, physics, and linguistics, and it became hard to find any point of reference outside of that which I could Reason.

But emotions aren't Reasonable.
And the more they're felt, they become less Predictable.

I saw them as a Filter that altered Reality,
and therefore contributing to falsities and folly.

And while that may be true in many cases, they are still necessary to (truly) understand the Influence your decisions have on people, as well as to develop a meaningful Objective by which to live your Life and avoid the comfort of Nihilism.


You see the suppressed in their Suits and Ties
Responsibility and Life drained from their Eyes

They know nothin' 'bout what they're Missin'
They learned early that Profit's an easy Mission


Accept the Chaos and Wander of Life
Salvation's visible from every strife



OH SHIT FUCK FUCK SHIT SHIT FUCK I write ONE Poem and now they're flowing through like punctuation. FUCK FUCK FUCK

[TheAudience]

spontaneous spouting of poetry seems to be a common side effect of consuming discordianism. Nothing to be concerned about. If your iambic pentameter lasts longer than 4 hours, consider consulting a physician. 

in all seriousness, abusive upbringings are probably more prevalent than anyone wants to admit, and the effects will probably require a lot of effort to untangle and understand. I hope that you are able to find places you find comfortable and safe enough to unravel the patterns of psychology and biology. I'll do what I can to make this a place where you can do that, but I can't promise much as this is a public place.

[POFP]

spontaneous spouting of poetry seems to be a common side effect of consuming discordianism. Nothing to be concerned about. If your iambic pentameter lasts longer than 4 hours, consider consulting a physician. 

in all seriousness, abusive upbringings are probably more prevalent than anyone wants to admit, and the effects will probably require a lot of effort to untangle and understand. I hope that you are able to find places you find comfortable and safe enough to unravel the patterns of psychology and biology. I'll do what I can to make this a place where you can do that, but I can't promise much as this is a public place.

I find booze and PEEDEE effective.

Not at the same time though. That's like Drinking and Driving. You might get lucky most of the time, but one day, you'll end up in a stranger's living room, car parked on their dog, while you're ranting about the Eschaton.

[TheAudience]

I find booze and PEEDEE effective.

Not at the same time though. That's like Drinking and Driving. You might get lucky most of the time, but one day, you'll end up in a stranger's living room, car parked on their dog, while you're ranting about the Eschaton.

It sounds like we're both on the same treatment plan