Dying in transgression

I am a broken person. Hyper vigilance never sleeps, and is a constant reminder, that there's a remote chance that I may find myself remembering what true misery feels like in real time. 

Noone will enlighten me, there's no strength in me. This is a point where I have no choice but to run to my god. There's no validation, or mercy for me, and I must turn around and go back. 

This is hell on earth 

Bibliography

It's not that I hate you, but that you are antagonised by me, which makes me feel defensive, this creates a negative feedback loop. 

When I hear my heart beating in my chest, I associate that with the pain of a heart attack, or a razor blade slicing, because I smoke cigarettes, which anti smoking commercials, on free to air television, has trained my mind to expect. 

The quirky context is that, while I was developing this imagery, as I was experiencing puberty, twenty five years ago, I was witnessing Kung Lao, of Mortal Kombat 2, perform his hat slice fatality, on the sega genesis. Not to mention the messed up Urotsukidōji: Legend of the demon womb's language games, which was done by design by the creators. I also used a lot of ampthetimines throughout my youth. 

I think of my brain inside my head, and I associate that with pain, and panic, from traumatic psychotic episodes I have endured in the past. I look at beings, and I see them at a quantum scale. I have been initiated.

I have five senses. Sight, sound, touch, taste, and smell. All these are how my brain makes sense of things at a quantum scale. 

My universe is only what I've been told by algorithms, etc. I don't know if there is a moon at all, as I haven't seen it with my eyes, to "know" that it exists; I haven't perceived it with my earthly ability, and even then, I don't know the context. My impression still comprises computer-generated visuals, shown to me by documentaries, or other noise the algorithms have shown me throughout my life.

I'm like a spiders abdomen, deflating, as it "farts"out of its sack. At least, that's the kind of thing I'd spend all my time drawing, in my youth

I grew up wearing smelly clothes, looking like Kurt Cobain, in highschool, and pissing myself every night, because of medications, the nights before mental health authorities had me incarcerated. 

I am an outcast by choice. This is beyond a psychiatric disorder.

The flip side

My whole life, I have lived with extreme hyper sensitivity, hostility, disrespect, and abuse from others throughout my life, on a continual basis, the constant bullying, in high school, in living situations, and online. 

The torture I endured, in which I was targeted by my animalistic neighbours, where I used to live, with intimidation tactics, attempts to scare me every day, day in, day out, subsequently led me to attempt suicide, in my intensely hyper vigilant state, as a means to escape their terrorism,and trained me to be the person I am today.

I am a big believer that what goes around, should come around, and not left in the hands of a societal definition of fate, or the man-made notion of 'karma'. 

This dynamic will see wrongdoers not only get away with what they did to me, but also receive a reward for doing it. They will continue to receive a 'green light', to commit unjust acts against me, or others. 

I imagine others who aren't living in this 'hell' of heightened sensitivity, and constant self projection, must suffer with a lot of boredom, and mundane days. 

Life is so easy for them, that it's a dull experience to be alive. 

The upside, is that things come easy to them, so they are able to fulfil basic requirements to live a relatively normal life, as they are too bored to care about much. 

              

Consequencial dynamics at play

Like a set of Domino's knocking each other down, seems to be the consequencial dynamics at play when I am subject to succumbing to what I am unable to endure, yet I have no choice but to endure. 

Circumstance can, and does bend a soul, until it breaks. 

As one who is suffering, I forever keep finding myself at the mercy of my circumstances, simply because I strongly disagree.

I wrote up my will today, which stated that I am not to be taken to the hospital, when I must endure the process of dying. My electric bike's motor died soon after I organised that, and, like a slave, I walked the bike home on a 38° day. Right now, my heart feels heavy, litterly, with dread. 

Falling into karma's snares

I've been waking up from sleep, and upon waking, I'm already in stealth mode, dodging curveballs, and consequencial dynamics that I can't escape.

Usually, it will come in the form of intrusive noise, by neighbours. My thoughts usually race, as I'm observing and discovering the toxicity of the dynamics surrounding me.

Anyone who happens to be in my vicinity ,can only condemn, judge, and persecute me for my complaint, as karma is busy at work sorting me out.

I have my headphones charged at all times, and in my panic, I will put them on and play white noise, very loud.

I've discovered a pungent side of a charming, beautiful side of life, where I am the only one aware of the injustice it is committing against me.

Manifested nightmare

I am caught in a self percepuating vicious cycle, where I experienced trauma early in my life. 

I expect hostility from people, I project that onto them in overwhelm, and in turn they react with a stress response, which is a mixture of misunderstanding, a holier than thou attitude, and a feeling they remember after they experience it. 

This requires me to have humility, as it only makes sense to love people. Karl Jung may relate to everyone in their "algorithm," that I experience difficulty with, as perhaps an archetype for my own unfaced shadow.