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book-of-ryker · 6 years

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The Here’s my problem: I don’t understand people and their motivations: I participate calmly in a hostile environment. I listen to everyone’s arguments, and it sounds like everyone is supposed to be “messing with each other” but why is that our only goal? What happened to the group feeling good? I read in the news about terrorism and nuclear bombs. There are an estimated 14,900 nuclear bombs in the world. The largest thing ever done on the surface of our planet (which is overwhelmingly small, mind you when compared to the overall size of the planet in density and volume) was the Tsar Bomb by the Russians in 1961.. The Earth might or might not be going through strong evidence of severe climate change I don’t understand. Why do we bully ourselves so? It is out of fear. A place of egotistical nature because we are so TERRIFIED at the idea of coming under attack. We lash out at others for joke or for tragedy. We don’t trust anyone and it hurts us. The aforementioned hypotheses you have just read is a manic rant I will have with myself daily. I am tortured with myself daily. It has come to the point of just being. On the day to day, I float along and try to ignore these voices. I have learned how to meditate. I have learned how to I'm sorry, Jenni, I' experience sever bouts of bipolar disorder, and I have to disconnect from the world sometimes. I don't understand what motivates us anymore as a species and I live in constant dread of that as the umbrella we decide to live under, emotionally. I see people possessed by our phones, while yes, insane, but also mesmerizing and wonderful. I mean, look, I'm not around you anymore. I haven't been within a comfortable experience. I feel like a hug would suffice and make me feel warm. But I live in fear of you because I want to learn how to love you. I want to sit for hours and talk with you. I would do this with everyone I knew in band. I loved that. I'm 26. That's almost a decade ago, of the senior tip of our adventures. For awhile, we were family. I was in the Navy. I've seen thousands of people. Thousands and thousands of people. I made friends with tons of them. Lifelong relationships that are now fading into the realm of imagination. We lose these wonderful people. They're everywhere though. They're you. They're me. Everyone that could ever read this hopefully knows that I have always done these sort of rants. I've been bipolar my entire life. I have really good mental recall for information and I just recite facts because I think, after my mom died, I went into another world of the mind. Just pure recording information. I have learned how the entire human spectrum of maps out. For me, i'ts an up and down roller coaster through the fucking day, constant and just dreadful. I sit and I feel down and down and down.Because I can't understand how things tend to become shitty. Why do things grow old with the arrow of time..Why do we choose to follow this path of hurt and torture, Jenni?What is it about feelings that are so bad? I mean, yes, they are tremendous and monumentally painful? Isn't that a part of life? Isn't that just another varying shade of white? For example, I'm listening to a Jon's Snow Theme Soundtrack. It's a twenty minutes of pure music porn to a female. I'm not saying it's bad, at all. It's literally orgasmic when we hear it being played through whenever we hear it.It takes a spot in our mind, this television show in our mind that's played for us. We buy into this instinctual drama that isn't real. We drink out of this fountain of information, coming into us constantly. And it's just raw bad data. The world is going to shit. And we're all here arguing about it because we're all so fucking smart with our goddamned opinions. Why don't we trust the scientists?I'm asking as the most powerful man that's capable of understanding the ingenuity of the realm that is not in fact an actual scientist. We all divide into these cells of division, whether in a cabin of Northwest, Florida, a bar in Japan, a port in the Phillipines. We become individualized when we are stuck in the same place.We all get too comfortable in one place in the world. Do, do, do. Things must be done, things must be said. When we forget to remember that we are all dying. I might not ever see you again, Jenni.This Facebook and Instagram have put these mental barriers in our mind that act almost like a prison cell. We love it. This unadulterated information is absolute pleasure. It's why we do it, and we don't even know why we're doing it. It's just biology being parasitically sucked by technology. Just another part of the evolution of change in this huge spectrum of life that's ever occurred on this rock, hurtling through space. There are about 14, 900 nuclear bombs in the world. This developed from using a stick, or a rock or something. Our hands morphed into these guitar playing, skateboarding, music making, hand writing fingers to two men arguing about how their buttons are bigger, if not but for attention. Like, if either of them actually means that, it's like finding out not only one person on the bus is wearing a bomb vest, but there are now technically two wearing bomb vests, if not more because other countries are going to bomb you because of politics. Which is emotionally traumatic and it’s what we’re reading about here, in this imaginary world. We’ve resorted to memes and tide pods and commercials for our daily living. Buy this, drink that. Do all the things cool, or you’ll have to actually feel anything. I’m bipolar as fuck. Those dudes are in government AND in the military and they're both fucking insane. The technology we use has developed massively since 1961, which is when the Tsar Bomba was dropped. If you made it this far, I’ll make this fact more fun for you, instead of me sounding like a egomaniacal dipshit that wants to impress you, maybe I’m actually trying to see if I can convince you on what I think is cool, if not but for a moment to listen to a story that I know you’ve never heard. I think I deserve to be heard. Let me sit in your living room, smoke a bowl or two with you and make sure I don’t end up in some shithole in Washington with my finger up my ass trying to carry heroine. I have to live a solid line and people are so divided now, we can’t actually get anywhere. It’s all been latched down by money, another tooth from the technological bite. I can’t walk around and just pick whatever food I next see. It’s processed or garbage, nothing that grows like a tree. I’d have to be homeless. I can’t wander around anymore. If technology becomes so advanced (it gets the nutrients it needs from us as far as the building blocks for it’s research and development) then it will exist as the simulated world of reality. LOOK AT HOW MUCH WE’RE ON OUR PHONES, IF PUBLIC OR PRIVATE. I play the guitar. I write and write and write and write and I just wish to be heard even though I emotionally feel like I’m falling down a well because only a few people have ever really heard about what I said because everyone is afraid of me somehow, and I don’t know how. Everywhere I’ve gone in this world, there are people that just can’t understand me and I want to know why and they won’t explain themselves and I’m just sick of it. It’s all over this planet now. Everywhere that has first rate technology. The jewels of civilization. There are 660 million people in the world without water, but politics has gone awry and made it somehow illegal between countries to not have access to water. People want the power. Most of you would go mad with power. You’d be like a Game of Thrones character, either fucking Jon Snow or mouth fucking Daenerys or making love to your sister. Regimes are moved in and out of office, whether by terms or murder. Assassination just makes us sound that much more cool, but not actually believing it anymore. One dictator surrounded himself with voluptuous women as an exhibition of the jewels he must have because he is still living. Who the fuck cares, yeah? Except that man has killed people or had people killed. That’s like me sticking a rifle in your mouth and telling you to beg me not to pull the trigger. That dude has lived that. Which means that you here on your phone or however you’re reading this, not realizing that the dude next to you has a bomb vest, again. Clearly, we’re all wearing this bomb vest. We will die, with or without technology. Inevitably and in no meaningful way, we all die. This is the fact that everything might boil down to for biology. If we don’t blow ourselves up, or boil ourselves off the face of the Earth. Check this little science out. Mercury has surface (there’s no atmosphere) temperature of 800 degrees Fahrenheit. You can Google this. “Surface temperature of Mercury” and it will display in black, which means it’s hella fucking true. “Surface Temperature of Venus” Thick motherfucking atmosphere, as received by Venera 4 on Wikipedia. The editing skills for Google is skill-checked by people with higher educations. The scholars mind you, but apparently, they don’t have enough money because they are all apparently doing it for free. They would then have no motivation to propagate information to you, would they? If hey’re being honest, which is how we should perceive people if we don’t want to lose our minds. We should trust the information that comes our way, but ask ourselves why we need that information coming into our eyes. Do we believe it? Why do we believe it? What purpose does believing it have? What consequences would believing it be? We all get so wrapped up in this huge and great world of just raw information to where it’s forced us to believe we have our phones in our faces, but we’re actually out here living. I don’t understand people and their motivation. What do they do on those phones? What do they learn? Are they trying to attack me? Why are we trying to attack each other. Because everyone has had something bad happen to them in their entire life. My mother, Renee, killed herself when I was three and 28 days before my brother turned eight, which would have been April 30th, 1995. A Sunday. I am told she was devoutly Catholic. I was even baptized Catholic, as I have been told. I have a label so that I can have boundaries in explaining myself and who I think I am, so that you can understand what that means, but I’m not actually Catholic. I think the Catholic Church helps a lot of people. But it also doesn’t and hasn’t helped people because we’re all addicted to power. But I digress. Renee, my mom, a mother of three. I was told in an aisle at Target, the electronics section by the DVD’s in Pace, Florida. I was off to join the NAvy, and my dad took the time out of his day to tell me because my father lives in fear. My father is not a superhero, albeit I wish he could have always been because he’s my dad. He fed me for years and years and years. I grew to love him because he had always been fun. Back then, I’d learned how to just be, coming up with some wonderful tales that I’ll never forget. I lived in those moments of pure joy with all of my friends. We didn’t have technology except for maybe a Nintendo 64. We didn’t have any responsibility in the world. I can go on for days and days and days. My mom killed herself because her father had been raping her for her entire life. I have asked around as a man to women who knew my mother in Milton High School, Florida. I am from Milton High School as I am an alum. I ate in the same cafeteria that my mother died. I believe that while purely coincidental, it must have been nudged by some sort of fate. It felt good for me to believe in the torture of that reality. Now I know that I will find any reason to believe that she was there, when all evidence suggests she can’t be. I must be happy, for I am alive. I rant and rave and I don’t really know if this can ever deserve an ending. When people don’t read my stuff because they’re so preoccupied with their lives, probably a lot of that in technology, no one ever wants to listen for whatever reason and maybe it’s good, bag or ugly. Who the fuck cares? No one does. That’s the point of why I think we’re all fucked.

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