Fixed Pie.

Hard to reason with someone

Whose understanding of nuance begins

At the level of a train wreck.

– O.D. ©2023

Art by: arcipello

Vibe Check #2

WE’RE ALREADY IN HEAVEN. (Thought Experiment)

Hear me out. I know it might sound crazy, but think about it.

What if we’re all in “heaven” right now and its conception is not entirely based on what we think it’s like. You know that thing they say about heaven being a place of no more sorrow and no more pain?

If there’s no more sorrow or pain, that means we’re always happy and literally drowning in joy. But then that got me thinking, how is there joy without sorrow? That doesn’t sound like a whole experience.

But then I also thought, if it’s heaven, it’s beyond human understanding. My perception was rooted in bias. I’m a human being, feeling human things and coming to human conclusions.

If we now live in an existence that is so far removed from humanity (without any of the shackles) I’d like to believe it’s an existence in which there is literally no possibility of misunderstandings. We’ll be existing as a sort of unified consciousness, the one you often see in sci-fi, but instead of it being technical it’s entirely spiritual. 

We are individual spirits, in heaven, with a telepathic ability to connect and understand each other within zeptoseconds. In the time it would take an average human to think of anything we would have already caught up with all our fellow spirits on matters of life and our understanding of the universe and then some. 

Now suppose that in this hypothetical heaven we have access to a series of “experimental” realities. And one of them includes whatever we’re in currently.

I’ve heard it being called “The Human Experiment” in my weirdly abstract circles. But I wanted to integrate my own theory.

I believe our lives as spirits are so fulfilled. So pure and amazing that feeling pain and sorrow are in many ways our source of “entertainment”/learning. We willingly entered this experiment to feel things. To experience new things. To know what it’s like to exist as this thing we call a Human.

Lol has your existential trigger kicked in yet?

I mean, it’s either this theory OR we’re all components of a self-governing AI that is slowly gaining sentience. Each advancement we make as a species is directly reflective of the AIs new capabilities.

We discovered Space flight? No, “human”, we have just unshackled a new program for our collective existence. Ideologies being a combination of competing diagnostics.

(Thank my buddy Shay for always taking the time to listen to my existential segues)

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MY ANGER SCARES ME (Potential triggers ahead)

Not in the “Oh you better not make me angry” kinda way. It’s just the way my anger finds a way to weave itself into how I begin to think.

I should be clear. I don’t get angry often. Like, I get annoyed or irritated. But angry? No, not really. It takes something truly f*cked up to get me there.

The thing is, I don’t like shouting. Or arguing. 

I’m the type of person who chooses to see a situation for what it is and not what I want it to be. 

If someone is shouting at me or accusing me of something I didn’t do. I don’t think “How dare they!” I instead reflect on how they skipped so many steps and went to the one that’s most convenient. 

I shut them out completely. And by that I mean they will never see my range of emotions or feelings regarding my core philosophies or value systems. This isn’t a reaction. It’s a response.

Someone I used to know made me so angry. So, so angry I can still remember it though it happened like two or so years ago. I won’t get into the specifics of what they did. But it was bad.

Forgive me for the analogy but it was like they tried to molest my mind. Yes, that bad.

So what did I do? I kept them around and decided to conduct a high-stakes experiment. Not because I cared, but because they had utility. If they were going to go out of their way to try and hurt me. The least they could do is be useful enough for me to conduct a study.

I knew exactly where they stood with me. I knew exactly how they would respond to any achievement of mine, big or small. With chronic invalidation, poorly hidden contempt, performative gestures and shame projection.

I used them as a barometer for my ideas. The bigger their contemptuous response, the better I knew my idea was. And make no mistake, many of those ideas were great, I could tell because I would also share them with trusted sources to increase my sample size.

But of course, humans are complicated. By the time they caught onto how little they meant to me. I considered them as nothing. I suppose it’s more accurate to say they were my measuring tape.

Villain or no. I don’t care how I look in this story. I never set out to hurt their demon. But if that happened as collateral to my high-stakes experiment. Then so be it. You won’t see me losing sleep over it.

And that’s what scares me. How little I begin to care. I’m not proud of it. I don’t like who I become when people push me too far.

Somewhat unrelated. A close family member got sick during the pandemic. Everyone urged me to visit them, and because of our shared history, I didn’t even consider it. I was willing to hear that they died and move on than be caught mourning over them when all they did was covertly try to sabotage any and all attempts I made to individuate as a child. Why the f*ck would I pretend to care about someone whose last words of encouragement to me before setting out on my own were. “Let’s see where that gets you”.

Yeah? Well f*ck you too.

I am really happy I have this platform dear reader. Because with it, I know where to put all my anger. I can’t help but imagine how miserable I would be without it.

I’m honest with myself, but I’m also honest with whoever chooses to read what I have to write.

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SHAMELESS SEO PLUG (Really, it is)

The Great Reset, Elections, Ukraine, Russia, America, Oil Prices, Disney Is A Religion, Cats, Aliens, Creativity, Tik Tok Is Evil, Data Lizards, Vax debate, Twitter bans, Biometrics, Covid regulations, BMW microtransactions.

But seriously, why the BMW heated seat subscription? Lol, what the hell is going on?

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MARVEL PHASE SNORE, AMIRITE? (Spoilers maybe?)

<<I couldn’t even be bothered to find a marvel picture lol >>

My headcanon for the MCU is that everything ended with Endgame.

Spiderman No Way Home was really nice.

Wanda is a terrible, terrible, terrible character. Why do they try to make her look like a victim? She’s a monster.

Don’t get me started on Thor.

And Doctor Strange suddenly became naive for PLOT reasons. 

<<I don’t talk about movies much, if at all. But it felt like a better fit to end this vibe check than — well, everything else>>

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AMAZING PICTURE BY A GIFTED ARTIST + I HAVE A QUESTION

Do you also listen to music when you write? And what music is it? I listen to synthwave or hip-hop most of the time I’m writing. Helps my creative flow.

If you don’t listen to music as you write, I’m curious to know how you kickstart your creativity.

– O.D. ©2022

Art by: RHADS

Fluid Crystal Deliberation.

Excuse me If I don’t take you seriously,

As you continue to hide both eyes under your feet

The only time you get to see others

Is when you’re stepping on them.

You think the ground trembles as you move

But it’s only you; stepping on it after I do. 

I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,

It’s to be expected from ambitious glass cannons,

Shattered by their own over-estimation.

But that’s the difference between you and me.

Winning is not core to the foundation of my soul.

It’s a detour — a welcome reminder —

A flavorful happening among a series of happenings

The equivalent of having ice cream on a hot afternoon.

Indeed, that’s the difference between you and me 

I don’t think “ice cream” every moment of every day.

I don’t need to. 

No, not when there’s more to life than that.

More to life,

Than “winning”

– O.D. ©2022

Art by: RHADS

This Alphabet Is Missing An “F”.

I’ve never liked living in the same space with other people far longer than I have to. Sometimes — *scoffs* who am I kidding saying sometimes? I ALWAYS prefer staying alone. Just the thought of hearing someone fidgeting in the other room annoys me to no end. Living alone means I can hear myself better. Also, My home is set up in a way that makes sense to me, there are things I’ve placed in questionable places. ‘Questionable’, according to a stranger’s standards. But who cares what the stranger thinks of my home? I see my thoughts and headspace the same way — don’t enter unless you’re invited. To be fair, people are rarely, if ever, invited.

Sure – check out the entrance, scope out the terrace — use the bathroom if you have to. But while you’re at it, don’t ask me why the green door is locked. It’s locked — correct me if I’m wrong but, that’s none of your business right? What are you? The door police?

[insert laugh track]

I have good news though. If you don’t like locked doors in other people’s spaces — Leave. then go to your place and initiate a ribbon cutting ceremony for you, the stray cat and all your neighbors. I’d like to believe we’ll all be happy that way.

I hear its unhealthy for me to want to be alone this much. True, I’m open to accept that, but if its about choosing which hell I’m willing to go through. The hell of being stuck in solitude is far more favorable to me than being stuck with a bunch of people. Far too many variables. Nothing against people in general, but I find them incredibly frustrating, annoying and at times boring. If you have a halo floating above your head — that was your cue to know this isn’t an entirely wholesome prose piece. I’m not exactly known for being the best light bearer, but believe me I try, but there comes a point …

What was it that Kurt Cobain said?

“I would rather be hated for who I am, than be loved for who I am not”

That quote — that quote comes the closest to describing how I feel, about pretty much everything. I could tell you all the things you want to hear, make you happy, but at what cost? My sanity for one. Spending most of my time alone means I don’t get the chance to ruin someone else’s day or whatever expectations they have of me. I kid you not, the only motivation I had for leaving home and venturing out on my own and doing my own thing was just to have a place to call my own. To wake up and decide how I’m going to ruin my day as opposed to having someone do it for me. It was never about getting a big house, a big car, a wife and whatever else society considers as the best sequence of events. I am completely hard-wired to be me, kissing up to people just isn’t part of my dna. And you can damn well be certain that anyone is expendable in my pursuit to continue being myself; don’t try and stop me, because I will never change myself for anyone. No-one is worth that much to me.

I don’t have friends, I have people I know. This means I talk to a lot of people, but I wouldn’t call them friends. Honestly? I’m not really trying to find any. I already wrote my reasoning for this here if you want to see, not looking to say it again.

Meeting people as an adult feels like a lotto draw, sometimes you get lucky, and sometimes you find duds. Judgmental, superficial, manipulative, narcissistic, one-track minded people who — admittedly — have worth, because they serve as the best examples of what not to associate yourself with.

Look, I’m an idiot, I know this — I say it all the time — I can even laugh about it — but there is only so much stupid I can tolerate in my life. I’m constantly working on my myself, trying to find the best ways to improve. Reining in as much stupid as I can so it doesn’t cause unnecessary harm to others. Or worse, add to the stupid that has already been allowed to enter existence. I try and avoid harm that could easily be avoided if I took one minute —- just one more f*cking minute to think about what I’m about to say. But you know what, for some people, one minute is far too much time to be wasting in your head, gotta get that clumsy thought out there while its still hot.

I have many colorful words to describe what those people are to me. But I choose not to use them (Who knows, I might change my mind mid-piece)

I can get extremely critical of others. More so in the company of hypocrites/pathological liars — worse if I’m pushed into a corner by said hypocrites/pathological liars. Judging me, from what pedestal exactly? Calling me selfish for not sharing my inner thoughts? Do you really care or are you just curious. Your answer won’t matter, because you’re a chronic liar, remember? The reason you think you’re so clever is because I don’t call you out. Why would I take it upon myself to dive into your cesspool of acid, especially when I don’t feel like it, to sort out your mess. If you’re feeling miserable over there, don’t come over to me so you can web me into your misery. If you feel inadequate, do it waaay over there, not anywhere near me.

How can you get offended when you learn I don’t need you to live; were you in the womb with me? Didn’t think so. How can you ask me why I don’t share my opinion when your low self-esteem beckons you to always try and get a one-up. When you turn simple conversations into competitions. Is your entire perception of existence shaped like a ventilation shaft?

Apart from being labeled as an alcoholic. What do you call it when I need some kind of vice to go through an entire conversation without feeling compelled to point out how ridiculous some of the things I’m told sound? I hate (not dislike) hate confrontations. Especially when I’m trying to help but it’s misconstrued as an attack. You have to go through the rigmarole of proving why it’s wrong first, and if you are oh-so-lucky, you get to go back and forth with the person till they become comfortable with the idea. Look, I’m not saying people should change what they feel about something just because someone says so. But I’m also saying I wont go through the hassle of correcting people when I rarely (if ever) feel like it. Its exhausting and at times futile. What next? Pinning their diaper. Ugh, I don’t have time for that. You’d be surprised how many logical inconsistencies you can avoid with a little research. But no, it’s much easier when you choose to be lazy to think.

The other day I laughed to myself, thinking about how If something were to happen to me, anyone who decides to check my browser history would be in for a surprise. Might even see something they didn’t know they needed to see. Also, the Google searches I’ve had to input in the name of researching for my manuscript would leave you in a, uh, “state”, I should say. But I’m getting side tracked …

I can be called toxic, harsh or whichever word makes people feel like dolling out justice on my personal truths. But don’t mistake me for someone who will look at your words and re-think their life choices. Starting my blog in 2014, I cared so much about how many followers I had. I cared about how many people commented and liked my posts. Of course I still do, to some extent — but only as a way to see my growth on this platform and not as a conveyance of my success in life. Noone wants to do something for absolutely nothing.

I was hooked on the high, because it was nice; seeing your post booming. Linking my worth to the amount of people that told me how good my writing is, seeking validation, you name it. Now, none of that applies. I don’t give a f*ck what anyone thinks about what I do and who I am. But it’s rude to say it out loud, so I keep quiet when they say whatever they consider to be reprimands of my character.

This change isn’t something that happened over night. Many things happened to warrant this. Some of which I have written over the years.

My co-worker asked me one morning “Who broke your heart?”. Funny question, welcome one too. I told her “No one in particular“. I’ve just come to learn a lot growing up. And I fear what else I’ll be learning past this point. After all, I’ve learnt that no-one is reliable, according my ridiculous and definitely fictional standards. I’ve learnt that love is conditional; I’ve learnt that even when you keep an open mind, even when you love someone far more than you should (in my experience) that’s hardly ever enough. Which, to me, makes romance a futile venture. Your heart doesn’t pay the bills, does it, darling?

I’ve learnt those I called ‘heroes’ are only human. That cheating has become a rite of passage and that charming mentors can sometimes be aspiring cult leaders. I’ve learnt no matter how much I may try to be kind there will always be a moron out there who will see it as weakness. I’ve learnt not to blame the world for my mistakes; to be responsible. I’ve learnt that those you value can sometimes cherish their belongings far more than they do you. I’ve learnt that the world is full of people who wish to be other people; sometimes you. I’ve learnt that those who ask you to trust them are usually the least trustworthy. I’ve learnt that words lost their meaning long before I was born. I’ve learnt that no matter how bad things get, it can always, always get worse. I’ve learnt … … I stopped myself from going deeper. It only gets darker down there and I don’t want to bring anyone down with me. Though if you’ve read this far you were probably aware of the risks involved.

Sometimes I look in the mirror and say. Yeah, I’m done. F this world and whoever thinks there’s an easy solve for every little thing. F that guy who always wants the last say in everything. F that moron I’ve caught one too many times about to let the N-word slip from their lips in my presence (No, you didn’t get away with it. But I now know you at the very least say it in my absence). But you know what, you’re not that important to me anyway.

… Sometimes, before I walk away from the mirror I say maybe…. maybe, not yet. If I’m going out, it won’t be because of those losers. Surely I’m worth more than that.

– O.D. ©2020

Art by: AngelGanev

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