Bizaron

Welcome to my pile! I put both trash and treasure here. Either prospect it on your own or choose some of the tags above to search for specific items.

[bizaron]

Dark Times: Blind Mind (Mental Code)

Every day I am visiting this place that exists within the Virtual Realm. it is a relatively large neigborhood-like place with a common ground, levitating in the digital void called Getsex. Many creatures are here with me, for example the Sharkman or the Crying Smile. This world exists inside the Solid Realm but some say it might be accessed from multiple types of universes such as the Underworld or Beyond Land.

Even when I am sharing my experience, I feel like there are more intentions behind it, some of which are not mine but were planted inside my head by some outer source. I am still observing what uncommon processes do happen inside my mind but it takes time to spot them, many get unnoticed even when manifesting themselves.

My original intention for going there is shrouded in mystery to me, I am not sure how to formulate it as if it had a form of a black amorphous orb with only some parts colored brown and green, having little yellow tentacles. For some reason, more of my mind becomes encrypted into such imagery and even the imagery itself then encrypts itself further to the point of forming an infinite shining wall that is slightly rounded, some are white or gray while others blue. I don’t know if these walls will encrypt themselves further. I fear it however.

What concerns me is the fact that I am not able to simply decrypt these strange forms on command and even seeing them completely is hard for my mind keeps the light on them for a shorter and shorter period of time. I must either draw or write down the glimpses I got to put the pieces together as if the light inside my mind was weakening and flickering.

But I still do mechanically remember the actions I took a long time ago before finding this place, actions that made the light dance with colors and the imagery produce more of it on command. And if I am not mistaken, I also knew the meaning of those forms, they were encrypted in a code I knew, at least 80% of it, this one is a completely different one I do not know, maybe around 2%. And this code is much darker and more sinister as if made from symbols that are not from any existing (including virtual, metaphysical or dreamy) realm, it is just unnatural even for the standards of unnaturalness.

Now I am only able to make the light flicker a little more and deform some of the imagery, yet I have no idea what it means so it does not affect my psychological state, which is slowly simplifying and darkening the same way my mind does. I feel that I am unable to reach many things now, be it other creatures, actions supposed to produce fun or even serious events such as death of someone that was important to me. Everything is so strangely muted and blurred but I still know that my psychological state should trigger strong responses, yet it does not, only in extremes and even those are short lived. I am seriously concerned about my state as if the fading memory of my mind from the past was shouting at me yet I do not hear it clearly but I know that I should listen to it.

I am not sure why does this process happen or even when did it start for there is no clear line and it is possible that it was happening a long time before I have noticed. Honestly, the process itself was encrypted to me as well but when observing myself I was able to put the pieces together and see that something does not quite fit and using a method that is not clear to me, I revealed what is happening but not really WHAT is happening or WHY. Also, I am visiting this place more often these times for I feel that it is the only one that can help me with my issue. Most of the creatures there have some problems with either their mind or life as a whole. Some are not able to get as much procreational interest from females as they should while others are not doing anything else, yet still not feeling quite right. We are discussing our issues and learning how to get as much of sexual interaction as we can.

The whole place is led by a strange unseen entity called the Principal, he has the answers to all our questions and always gets new ones. So far we know, his sexual intercourse related results are impressive and everyone of us wants to be just like him or to be more specific, be our own version of him. It is logical for breeding is the most basic of principles that all creatures are led to by their own instincts. And females want to breed with only the best males, so we are slowly becoming those, which gives us all hope for better days even when now the times are bleak.

[bizaron]

Dark Times: Time’s Rhymes

(a chorus of children singing with a monotone voice)

Being born But not warn Slowly torn With each hour By this power Don't be sour Now a kid They forbid What you did

What a spleen You have been Lonely teen But no more Now closed door Follow lore You are grown On your own Broken bone

You are ill No more chill Losing will Getting old Just as told You are cold Turn to ash What's your cash Just a trash Much like you Which is true Don't be blue All will go Can't say no Let me show On this life Without knife Pointless strife One, two, three Now you see Can not flee Turn to dust It's a must Don't need trust Even I Will say bye All will die While this loom Bringing gloom

(pause)

Is of doom (children laughing)

[bizaron]

Dark Times: Inevitable Transience

Most people in this cold, dark and unforgiving world are struggling to forget about their empty and futile existence, they are usually not so honest to themselves but this is what they all do. I was no exception, even when it comes to honesty. And I did it in the same fashion they do it, trying to follow some generally accepted methods how to achieve it as one does not usually question things that seem to be shared by many. What one is supposed to reach is often called happiness or fulfillment but no one seems to notice the disgustingly temporary nature of these states when such methods are used to reach them. I remember a little creature, it had bunny ears, cat face and a humanoid form, it was not able to talk but its nature was appealing in some manner. I met it in one small village, struggling to find its own way of forgetting about one's existence. So I have started visiting that village more often to share some time with this unique being. But as the time has passed, this creature grew bigger, its form changed, reminding me more of some reptile than a bunny ears cat. Not only that but its manners have also started to shift into an uncanny version of themselves. Slowly, I have admitted to myself that the original being is simply gone, probably for good, cutting my contact entirely and searching for another being. I found it in a forest, this one was a human, like me, but it had naturally occuring pictures on its white skin. They looked as if they were drawn with a pen, often creating various ornaments or improbable geometrical shapes. It was also mute, comunicating only through the unique skin condition. I have decided to visit this one on a semi-regular basis but coming again and again, it became so mundane that it felt more like a duty than a passion. Another contact to cut. While visiting more and more such beings, I have also brought various insects and little helpless creatures from the everlasting winter night into my humble house to save them from a certain death. Keeping them inside a huge glass cube, I have observed their coexistence with glee, creating my own story for their simple world. But as the time has passed, they have left as well, becoming lifeless shells of themselves. Now they are all gone and the empty transparent cube is the perfect symbol of my acquired inner void that came with the eventual and inevitable demise of these beings. Sitting inside my hollow room, with hand under my chin, I have remembered my wooden box, it was still lying under the bed. Opening the box, I saw several notebooks with various shorter and longer stories that I have put on the gray pages a long time ago with strong and acute passion. Now they are just lying inside the box and one day, they will most likely turn into dust or ashes. Some might circulate the world a little longer but eventually, they are destined to inevitable and unavoidable doom. Beings change, things disintegrate, relationships end, memories fade and the universe gets colder and darker every day. Everything will eventually meet together at one place – oblivion.

[bizaron]

Dark Times: A Feverish Confession (Into The Void)

I remember a distant but beautiful time that I am not sure is real or just a wonderful fictional memory created to prevent me from losing my sanity. Walking through a colorful world full of all shapes imaginable that I can transform, create or mutate by my sheer will and pure effort, I am experimenting with the boundaries of their possibilities. When I find a nice place that speaks to me in a warm manner, I create a whole world and allow it to live on its own. Several worlds were created this way and then I return to each other whenver I feel an urge to either change or add something. Some were even completely destroyed when I later felt that they are but a horrible abomination that does not impress me, returning their shapes and colors back to the circulation.

The remembrance of my mind state is blurry and unclear, the only thing I know for sure is that it was pushing the boundaries of freedom, imagination and metathinking, making me feel like I was floating through the air with nothing to pull me down. Sometimes, I met a different kind of shape, one that looked more like a piece of missing space and time, I was not able to control it. Whenever I came across such an exotic piece of world, it drained an insignificant piece of my Inner Dojo, which is a combination of my power and will to play with these shapes. At first, I was observing these antishapes very closely and with an honest interest, eventhough they were always stealing something from me. This lasted for a few years, when these spatial oddities were extremely rare. However, despite my initial interest, they became boring rather quickly, so I started ignoring them, focusing at the creation and manipulation of the colorful shapes. But the more I was trying to let my Inner Dojo do its work, the more I felt the presence of the antishapes, even when they were so far that I could not see them. Somehow, they kept occupying my mind while not giving anything to process, it was not a thought, information, image, nothing, just used mental capacity disrupting the function of my Inner Dojo. Slowly, there started to be more of these, so much that I always saw at least one but felt many others. The worlds I was creating became smaller and poorer with my affection to them turning completely arbitrary. Then, when the capacity of my mind was being pointlessly used so much that I could not create whole worlds anymore, a suppressed memory has returned to haunt me. This whole universe full of shapes and colors was just a temporary station that should not even exist and it was soon to end. Horrified but reconciled with the fate of this paradise, I knew that there where I was heading, my Inner Dojo would only distract me from the sinister dullness and melancholical emptiness that was about to become my only forced fulfillment. Looking around, I saw many antishapes, more and more, actual colorful shapes were sucked by them to be erased from existence for good. There was no other option for me, unless I would want to become a semiliving creature with everoccupied mind stuck in empty thoughts, desperately trying to process them somehow but not even knowing what does it exactly mean – using the rest of my sheer willpower, I started crushing my Inner Dojo, letting its shards fly into the deep antispace. At the beginning of the destruction, only a very few shards broke away but through the end of it, thousands of them were forming a colorful vortex all around me, each of them vanishing into the infinite emptiness. Observing the last pieces of it disappearing forever, I felt a strange incomplete combination of various shades of on unclear emotion. I was surrounded by an absolute absence of any world, left alone to wander through this morbid form of infinity. But suddenly, I saw a two-dimensional gray shape of something appearing in front of me, talking incomprehensible gibberish. It has disappeared rather quickly and a reflection of my previous memory gave me a hint that this was the first manifestation of my own world, both external and internal. Now I was slightly concerned where this will lead me and mostly – for what purpose?

[bizaron]

Dark Times: A Feverish Confession (Denatured Diacetylmorphine)

As darkness slowly pervaded my days I have entered an unnatural phase Lying to myself I've already made it And not expecting an unforgiving hit My core was still under construction Yet I have traded its conduction For some sweet downers, very strong I suspected this to be wrong Despite accepted as the main norm I never wanted to join the swarm Wandering from a pill to a syringe Just an empty and unfulfilled binge Dying without finding your way Becoming your own paltry prey A boring and a dull end With no possible amend Denaturing my lifetime dose Rather eating just some glucose I now throw stones on my way Never again I shall stray

[bizaron]

Hyperactive Semi-Autism: A Double Edged Sword

So, as an individual with both ADHD and a milder form of Asperger’s, I have decided to start a sort of highly random entries about my way of living and viewing life and every bullshit somehow related to it. The reason for starting this is the fact that I came to a conclusion that my whole existence does not really overlap with the commonly expected/accepted stuff or even with some underground hipster shit, like if I was living my own specific bullshit that gets more and more estranged from all the already existing stuff. And what better place for my snowflake fuckery could I choose than this social network. I am writing this from a pure whim, I am finally getting these after the state exam period (which was my mental self-destruction) and they even start to tickle my Inner Dojo again. So far so good.

This part is generally about my bloodline limit trait because one of its manifestations is the urge to start everything with something general or non-specific. For example when I am planning a video series, set of short stories or pictures (another of these urges is always using examples of three things, otherwise I feel like something is missing/incomplete), I do not want to begin it with something too specific. An ideal starting episode/story/picture is related to the origins of the characters, their relationship or the town itself but if possible, it should tackle the main characters or the universe as a whole. Then, I have a feeling that the foundation stone was set and everything is nice and dandy. Also, overexplaining a side point is my guilty pleasure as well. Anyway, I would not trade my mind for a neurotypical one, I just feel it is like starting with different stats, more extreme to be specific. Overall, it allows me to see and understand various problems, concepts and conventions from all possible angles (while ignoring all the traditional bullshit), which greatly helps in developing my metathinking that can then be further used to be even more abstract and view everything from a higher perspective. An interesting thing is that I lacked abstract thinking when I was a little 90s kid collecting bugs in jars, so I had to develop my own, I did not understand metaphors, for me that was just weird talk. But since no concepts are sacred to me (in our culture, “feels stuff” like love, family, relationship is somehow sacred but it’s actually just a in long-term backfiring bullshit, I will attack these mercilessly in the future), my values estrange so much as my mind progresses that I start feeling like some kind of time traveler from distant future or a neobuddhist monk on his way to urban nirvana. shit like that. I like it honestly. On the other hand, I am prone to pattern following even when my original motivation, conviction or other reasons are obsolete. As someone highly interested in personal development, introspection and self-improvement, I synthetically and methodically reverse engineer the best possible mindset, a GTO for life (so far I have cracked the core). But I have noticed that whenever I discover and implement improvements, I can stay stuck in a sort of bubbles with certain things/people that make me mimic my previous mindset (patterns) despite it no longer feeling natural but like “it should be done this way.” As my mind progresses, the more it feels like I am living a fossil - that’s exact, it can go as far as feeling that this fossil is slowly shattering and falling apart which on one hand concerns, on the other fascinates me inside. More on pattern following in the future with examples, however when these patterns are benefical, it can actually be a pretty useful thing (working out, writing stories, drawing...). What is just a complete bullshit is the randomized attention span and some obsessions, or how they just won’t let my mind alone and force me to solve them 24/7 until a solution is discovered or the shit just becomes boring. I am usually doing several things at once, for exampe when writing this shit, I am looking at messenger (when stopping in the middle of a sentence) even when I know there is nothing new, looking at my recent concepts on papers that are scattered all around me and constantly tackling the GTO mindset problem in my fucking head (but its no longer the grueling deciphering). One of the reasons why I am developing it is (I have checked Fb right now) that it provides a mass solution for finding the perfect inner balance (it’s far more complex than that but I don’t want to overexplain - I actualyl want but I know it’s not the point right now). Anyway, the attention span is absolute shit when I am not interested but it cannot be broken when I am deeply fascinated and obsessed, right now my obsession (besides GTO mindset) are deliriants, datura is the top with BZ being very close, diphenhydramine is the third. The attention span can be improved by working out like crazy (it provides a temporary improvement, which I might actually do in a few minutes) or certain drugs such as weed, modafinil, methamphetamine, methylphenidate, MDMA etc... But the more inner balance, the better span even when something has only a threshold amount of my attention. I started writing this bullshit yesterday at 11:50 PM and stopped now because I had like 5463674 ideas, notes and realizations (as well as work and sleep) I had to write somewhere. Why can’t my mind just vomit it all out at once? So, now it’s out of the way, I actually wanted to write about how I perceive landscape change but the first part of a series has to be general lol.

[bizaron]

Dark Times: Timmy’s Terrors (Grandma Jones)

Time to go to sleep again, it is the first Monday of this month, these are special Mondays and I honestly do not like them very much. I am just standing in my dark room, watching my bed as the white moony light illuminates it, the only thing I am able to hear is the ticking of the clock, slowing down. I do not want to enter the bed but the ticking gets slower and slower until it stops completely.  I always try to open the door but it gets stuck, the window does as well and it can not be broken, I have tried it several times. And so I usually just sit in my chair, watching the static clock hanging on my wall. I do not even get tired or anything and when I try to scream or cry, no one ever comes, so I just have to lie down in my bed, covering myself and closing my eyes. The clock then slowly starts moving again and someone touches my face with a bony finger, I open my eyes. She is here, again, I see a wrinkly pale face with a crooked nose and an emotionless smile, her eyes are white and full of red veins, her hair is gray and unkempt, she is completely naked with hanging noodly breasts and a crumpled white skin. Standing next to my bed, she pokes me again, smiling even wider but her toothless mouth is the only thing that moves on her face. I hear the clock ticking but it only moves between two seconds, back and forth, back and forth. Not being sure what happens next, she touches me and it is uncomfortably pleasant, moving her hand under my bed, she joins, lying right next to me. I always want to leave the bed at this moment, so I jump on the ground and start running only to open my eyes again with her poking me and then joining me in the bed. After a short period of lying next to me, I get a dry kiss and fall into a coma. Then, as I wake up again, I see her sitting on my chair with a small creature in her hands, pointing her bony finger at me and then at the thing. I stand on the ground and approach this old lady only to reveal that what she is holding is a dried gray fetus with two black dots instead of eyes. Sometimes she is sitting on the ground or on my bed and the fetuses are of different sizes and shapes each time, this one is very small. Her smile slowly disappears only to be replaced with a sad grin, this time the whole wrinkly face moves, she points on my bed, so I walk back and lie again. Walking slowly to me, she puts the fetus next to my head, on the pillow and stares at me with her empty, lifeless look. Then, I close my eyes and finally fall asleep. I wake up, there is always dark outside, only the moon is not shining, to see a small fragile humanoid skeleton lying right next to me. I often want to either bury it or throw that thing out but whenever I do so, I return only to reclaim it again, as if it belonged to me. Therefore I keep a special box in my warderobe, one dedicated only to these little remains.

[bizaron]

Dark Times: Mourner In a Corner

Sitting inside a bleak room Waiting for my lonely doom There is nothing on the walls It's just gray and empty halls There is so dark outside I have already cried For help or for salvation Unkown is my location It's right in the corner A lone hopeless mourner Waiting to be removed Sick, sad and unimproved The winter went inside Nowhere for me to hide Feeling like I am tied My body is like not here Soon it might just disappear Destroyed by this puppeteer Into darkness I fall Guess that this was it all I feel weak and so small Time for last breath Here comes the death Touches me softly Yet it feels awfully My pulse then stops My pressure drops Lying on the ground Never to be found

[bizaron]

Dark Times: Timmy’s Terrors (The Chorus)

They have been here, again, those skinny white bodies that sometimes surround me when the light goes off. I will tell you my story, people usually believe it but they don't want to help me in any way, they are too concerned with their own difficulties rather than solving mine. I don't blame them, helping a little boy is not as important as fulfilling all your duties. Sometimes when I walk from my bed away to turn the light off and then go back to sleep, I sense them. I can feel that as I make my way back, there are figures standing all around me, at first they can not be seen but slowly, from the darkness, little white dots start to appear, that's when moving becomes difficult as if my body got heavier. The dots get bigger and bigger, so much that they form something resembling completely pale faces with two black eyes, staring at me. These then slowly grow long and thin bodies, that's when I am unable to move at all and get thirsty, this is the point when I can hear them whispering, very fast, something incomprehensible but getting louder and louder. They also start approaching me as I fall on the ground, not being able to move a single muscle. Many white heads with thin bodies start orbiting around me as they whisper faster and faster while also growing strangely deformed limbs from their bodies. These limbs are crooked and usually start there, where legs and arms should be located but these body parts then start growing their own heads, also white and with two empty eyes somewhere on the palce face. That's when I start feeling a horrible pressure inside my head when I am lying helpless on the ground and the whispers start to sound like singing as if many children were trying to sing over each other. All the heads then surround me so much that I don't see anything else but many white faces with two empty eyes staring right at me as I can feel my body temperature increasing. Then, all the heads merge with each other, forming one huge white matter full of empty black holes that all expand, the whole matter gets bigger and bigger or I am becoming smaller to the point where one of the holes just consumes me and I am lying inside a white room full of black holes, hearing many singing children all around me. Through one of the holes I can see that I am probably still inside my room but it is sometimes much bigger or much smaller and there are other children entering this plce from all the other openings but they don't talk to me or to each other. Every child just drops on the white ground, wall or celiling and lies there when a thin faceless man with a huge mustache and a top hat walks from body to body, asking each kid whether they want to join the chorus. Most of them manage to say no but some of them are so weak that they can't speak. When this happens, the man injects them with a strange liquid and they start dissolving, very slowly. And as they dissolve, they become a completely white liquid absorbed by the ground and I can hear another voice singing among the thousands of others. So far I have always managed to say "no." The man then goes to another kid and after a while, I never remember when or how, I wake up back in my bed.

[bizaron]

An Unshared Story

There is a story that has never been spoken, one that exists completely outside of any medium able to carry it or anyone willing to mediate such a tale. Yet, it is here, there, somewhere. It contains a narrative about someone or something that might be just a pure creation of several minds completely independent on each other. There is still a slight possibility of this existence being a fictional work without any creator. Although many interpretations of this nevertold story exist, there are certain traits that repeat within all the versions. It is about someone who was just disgorged into this universe, several particles were taken and made into something able to give a response to its surroundings in the form of physical and psychological senstations. Although this tells the tale of many such existences, this one was a little bit more outside of the statistically average ways someone responds to their own responses. This strangely specific yet possibly made up being has decided that they do not like the way they respond and are taught to respond. A notoric sentence that has emerged within all the versions is "Why should I feel good when eating something bad?" Many other such sentences are told among all the versions, tackling more and more ungraspable concepts as much as leading to "Why do not we first investigate the way we think and then invent the universal language?" Retreating from the covnentionally accepted as well as natural ways of responding and deliberation more and more, this existence has of course been viewed with various levels of mistrust, skepticism and fear. But the untold tales are different in the ways they depict the way the being viewed itself. Some say it considered itself a discoverer, according to others it was a creator or an originator. But all of them agree on the fact that this existence just did not take the general view on its own person seriously and decided to just ignore it. However, it was collecting all the possible knowledge, putting pieces together, searching the final bigger picture. One that would give a universal answer on how to respond and deliberate in a way that would yield the best possible results over an infinite period of time, essentially creating the game theory optimal strategy for life. As an expected result of this effort, the being respected no taboo and did not view anything as sacred, angering many other existences by disrupting their beliefs and getting exiled from almost all places it tried to reside in. This creature was however not upset by the ways it was treated since its main goal was to discover and create, not trying to merge with the majority. The story gives no indication on how or whether did this being end its existence but the very reason for the origins of these untold tales is the presence of one single book and numerous other notes, designs and prototypical inventions. Despite all of them dealing with different concepts and topics, they all share a high level of heresy and a complete disrespect towards everything but the most elemental natural laws. And according to some rumours, even these were tried to be broken or a way around them was searched and sometimes found with better or worse results. The one main book can now be found in some libraries which did not get the message of this piece not being allowed to print and share anymore. It is the main source for those seeking the wonders of forbidden knowledge and daring yet sinister conclusions – Overthinker's Overwhelming Omninomicon.

[bizaron]

Dark Times: Incoming Call

A fatigued young man full of wrinkles and circles under the eyes is sitting on a chair with his head lying on the right shoulder. Only a very dim light pervades the room, as if it was creating its own darkness and fighting with the potent light source – a ceiling lamp shining with blinding intensity yet unable to reach the whole room, a small kitchen. Then, out of a sudden, a silent but deafening ringing interrupts the drowsy silence. It is a phone on a table, right next to the chair, slowly forcing the guy to focus his dark sunken eyes at the sound source and watching it for several seconds with dread in his face. Taking one deep breath, he painfully reaches for the phone, his bones can be heard crackling, and with a loud gulp accompanied by a beeping sound answers the call. The caller is whispering, very slowly, probably a woman: "Hello? Is someone there? Hello?" She gets no answer as the man is just sitting with the phone next to his right ear but with no will to say a single word. Still, she continues: "There is a kid with terminal cancer in the hospital. He has no chance of recovery but does not understand his situation, thinking he will go home soon." The man is listening to the next message, not moving a muscle: "Niether of his parents is planning to ever come for a visit anymore as he is expected to live for only a week at maximum and they do not have enough time." Now the man starts shaking a little bit as he hears the last part of this call: "They did not even give any instructions on what to do with his body after he dies, so he will be just packaged and thrown into the biohazard waste container. Have a nice day."  Then, only fast beeping comes. The phone is put back on the table and the man is looking into emptiness with more wrinkles appearing on his face as he carefully puts his head back on the right shoulder and tries to sit in the same position he had to leave. But before he manages to finish his painful movement, the phone starts ringing again, it is vibrating on the table and a small digitally green light is shining through the grayish room. Now he does not want to hear anything, so he keeps watching the phone until it stops ringing. For several seconds, the silence is back but instead of being drowsy, it feels incredibly tense. The ringing comes again and then again and again, missed calls are stacking and stacking with the man getting his veins more and more swollen as his eyes try to suppress the tears that desperately force their way out. He eventually surrenders and answers the caller with a feeling of defeat, this time it is man, sounding like he is speaking through an old transmitter: "Hey, an old granny is sitting inside her room, unable to move. She had a serious case of stroke that left her paralyzed but aware of her existence, it happened yesterday. Her daughter and friends would come to visit her in a week but they will die during a mass shooting tomorrow." The man closes his eyes and the speaker continues: "She will sit there until her death, shitting and pissing herself as she is now unable to control any of her muscles. Shit, I guess worms and other insect might start eating her while she is still alive. Imagine having a bug nest inside yourself or several of them without being able to do anything about it. This makes me sick, goodbye." The man is looking at the phone in terror, waiting for another call but it does not seem to come anytime soon. He slowly puts it on the table and manages to sit back in his previous position, slowly falling asleep. His dreams are extremely vivid but never lucid, this time he sees a young kid lying on a bed with closed eyes, long uninterrupted beeping can be heard. As he leaves this hospital room, he appears inside a messy living room full of flies, worms and spiders, there seems to be an old woman sitting on the couch with the sounds of guns and screaming in the background. He tries to go closer... The phone is ringing again.

[bizaron]

Same joke, different template.

[bizaron]

They misspelled looser. Like loose. Like free, laid-back and cool. Okay I'll get out.

aww

[bizaron]

You’re a fuckin loser

Guess it’s the only way I can. 

[bizaron]

I love talking about “diacetylmorphine” and then watching how people’s faces change when I reveal it’s heroin.

[bizaron]

The Defiandros

For my whole life, I am trying to find out my own fulfillment, not to achieve it but to know what serves as it. First after this step will I be able to live a meaningful life, one that will not end with my regretful death, a fate everyone should be fearing the most but being so far in the future, most existences do not even consider this an issue – until it happens, and that is always late. One could  possibly think that knowing what fulfills you should be easy or even clear from the beginning to the end but there is one small problem I will demonstrate. Imagine a talented musician who actually never had the chance to play any instrument. Such a potential musician might live a relatively happy life as for example a gardener but the fulfillment from playing music would be much greater. Yet, they do not even know they are a talented musician. Trying everything to find your own purpose is virtually impossible, therefore I am using a different strategy. Many of us are influenced by other beings we meet, to such an extent that we might sometimes forget what are our traits and what are just temporary influences from others. The more influenced one becomes, the harder it is to find the original core, unless the influence is positively aligned with it. But usually, it is like creating a form of hum or noise that distracts one from themselves and consequently, from their own principle that hides the secret for the ultimate fulfillment. And this is my strategy, I am not avoiding social contact, not anymore, now I am purposely seeking it to test how strong did my traits grow, how much do I know myself and whether others are able to confuse me. First when I consider myself to be absolute, will I be able to identify my fulfillment with absolute certainty. Sitting in the pub, most beings here are drinking Neolaudanum before they fall asleep but not me, I am watching someone or maybe someone is watching me. Right now it has no face, only mouth and a winter hat, its face is pale white, each hand has only three fingers, it is sitting behind the table and slowly moving those ghastly talons. No one else can see it, it exists only for those who took the path I chose. It also does not answer questions, yet it can talk gibberish time to time, but I know what I have to do. Standing and walking to this existence while passing several sleepers, I look at it and say: "Hello, you again, my guess is that I avoid seeing and smelling something that could possibly damage my fragile concept about who I am. Also, I am afraid to touch something properly, something that could also hurt my own image about myself." After saying these words, the being stood up and walked away from the pub, I tried to watch it walk outside but there were no traces of it anymore as if it vanished. I remember seeing it for the first time, it had a deformed body and a crooked face, I had no idea who or what it was and it appeared everywhere I went, saying nothing, just moving very slowly, no one else saw it but me. When I met a friend of mine, I saw him talking to an empty space about himself, what he is afraid of and things that should remain secret because of his own insecurity. After asking him about that, I knew everything I needed but it took me several days to tell the thing that I am just a representation of myself highly deformed by the influence of others, to the point that I myself can not recognize me.Then, it disappeared after I blinked. Now I will have to find several things, those that I purposely did not want to perceive and face them. I think I know what things that are but I am still trying to convince myself that I actually have no idea. Yet pretending for the rest of my life would be a huge waste, which is something against my philosophy. Anyway, I can not wait for that thing to stop appearing. Until that time, I am on my search for myself.

[bizaron]

Un-Uniqueness

Inside an improvised laboratory hidden somewhere in the mountains, a self-taught scientist enters his working room. It is a hall full of various metal equipment collected from the outside, together forming a questionably functioning machine. The scientist is looking at it through his round glasses and with a wannabe scholary expression on his face, he pushes several buttons on it, resulting in an extrmely loud creaking and a lot of smoke. After several minutes, the process stops and this so-called scientist picks up a product created by this strange device – a multidimensional geometrical shape created form an unknown matter.

It changes its shape within the third dimension it is trapped in as he turns it around, sometimes looking more like a cube, an octahedron or a pyramid. Then, it is laid next to a very similar object and as he turns it around, it gets the exact same shape as the second one. The guy sits on a dirty chair and smiles while putting his glasses down, saying: "It works, it finally works. I have somehow, and honestly I do not exactly know how, refined and realized Overthinker's concept." Sitting on his chair and resting, someone opens the door – a huge and wide ape-like creature, it resembles a human however. The wannabe scientist turns his head towards this being, asking: "What do you bring?" The creature pulls out of its pockets some other shapes, a book and a jar filled with light. Putting all these things on the table, the self-taught scientist brings three books from his library, searching them to find information about all these exotic objects. As he reads through the pages, he nods and takes all the things into his machine, starting the loud process again, making the ape-like creature run away in terror. When it is over, he collects all the shapes, book and the jar filled with light and similar to the previous shape, puts them next to their original. When this process is finished, he carefully crosses out some sentences and words from his books. These are: unique, only of its kind, unrepeatable and thus rare, a copy can not be made He then smiles at one specific book opened on a selected chapter, it is the most well-known book from the Overthinker, and he is interested into reading a concrete part of this chapter, again: Book: Overthinker's Overwhelming Omninomicon Chapter 34: Uniqueness During my research, both practical and theoretical, I came across one thing that has both concerned and fascinated me. While reading through the books of various ancient, modern and other authors, I came across many objects, events, people and anything that is imaginable by putting things together and into context, that were labelled "unique," "legendary," "unable to be copied or repeated." Things that existed either only once in time, space or both. This has included events as well, when something is unique, it is restricted for a small amount of beings (even just one), sometimes even during a specific period of time. Such a thing is strangely distant and it almost induces a feeling of slight anxiety as I realize that once lost or happened, these things are gone for good. It makes them both absolutely fascinating and totally unforgiving. But is this a good trait, or to be more specific – is this a valuable trait other than a value by having a rare value? 

For I understand that most conscious beings hold an opinion that unique things should be left unique while it somehow is better so, I disagree. Personally, I consider it a dangerous trait, if a thing is valuable, it does not need to posses the added value of uniqueness. Therefore, I came with a hypothetical schematic of a device that could be able to copy such things as it breaks several natural laws by cleverly ignoring others. If you manage to build such a machine, be extremely careful as the side effects might be horrible and unpredictable. This is also a reason why I am not building this machine by myself and probably never will.