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An older photo I really enjoy that I newly edited:
Model: Michelle Mousel
An older photo I really enjoy that I newly edited:
Model: Michelle Mousel
I go in so many circles. I want to write. I want to release all these thoughts that build up inside my head. Use my inner misery to enlighten others or at the very least give them an insight into who I may be as a person. I want to write but I always find myself saying "I'll do it tomorrow" but then the echo of "you have to do it now or you'll never do it." But of course, whenever I try to write, I get bored and it feels empty or bland. It has always been the case, however that I have been on this road. Only classes in high school I got anything above a D in were reading comprehension and English. Ask me how many math classes I failed. Read: all of them.But, I get these short bursts of "wow, maybe I can pull a few words together into a coherent little blast of relevance. Perhaps I can see something better coming from the diarrhea feelings inside my head." Now is one of these moments but then I get paranoid that it'll all read as one big block of babble. Today, I was endlessly miserable. All day, almost immediately after I woke up I was in a death-wishing mood. There were a few moments of smiles and laughter. They were valuable moments, but they only served as a higher cliff to fall from once the day dragged on back into misery land.Having nobody to see and nothing to really do is maddening. This computer sucks me dry and not in a way I might enjoy. If I weren't so addicted to this bright light in my eyes, I might throw this laptop against the wall and run out of this house naked and screaming.As my mind runs around the drain; writing, photography, sex, loneliness, drugs, and many possible futures, I contemplate if it could ever be possible. Moments of pure confidence of what I want to do in the future are immediately proceeded by moments of complete doubt and confusion. Long periods of time where I pace around my house feeling utterly disconnected with the Humanity I see on the internet. Are these people really real? I've always felt this. Even in middle school, I always wondered in a solipsist fashion, am I all alone in existence? Is everyone else just a shadow? While I do not quite feel that way anymore, I still feel a large gulf exists. I want to be able to stop being such a little pussy inside and bridge this gap, to decide to "act my age", whatever that means. I know I have matured in some ways in the last decade, but at the same time, I feel completely immature when I want to be strong and confident. I need these things for myself, perhaps I could have some semblance of control in my life. Which, of course, would just be an illusion.Perhaps I could stop writing bullshit that was flushed down the toilet ages ago but here I am writing about it. I want to ride a train, I've never ridden a train before.I want to sit on a train with someone. On some sort of drug. Most likely a psychadelic.Discussing existence, laughing, smiling, and connecting on an interpersonal level that is rare. I want to dare them to get off with me on a random stop and just explore the unknown whatever of whatever. Walk into some dive bar or shitty comedy club. Jump on open mic and bomb horribly talking about my dick being weird looking or how I liked looking at naked girls at the age of 5. Realizing my mind is a disaster of sexual confusion and maligned emotion.But then my companion and I race out of this place onto some other location. A forest, on a rainy day. We are soaked but we don't care. Well, we do. We don't wanna catch pneumonia but we also don't want to give a shit. Capturing endless curiosity through photographs. Making the truest form of art I can imagine. Just living in another world where you need not care where you tread. If you fall down and get a bruise, you smile.You capture it and see what other bruises you can earn. Creating art in this rainy forest, as if we had gone back in time with a camera, all alone in some vast forest and perhaps on the entire continent. All sorts of animals were watching us from the edge of our vision. Our stench was unlike anything they've ever smelt before.Then I look up and I realize I am still in this room. My slight grin turns into a giant frown. My mind screams and examines how I might get out as soon as possible. Nothing solid comes to bare. I panic and anxiety runs over me as misery creeps back in. Fuck, I was just feeling so awesome imagining this great adventure into another world, another universe. The concept of sharing this with another person was even more gratifying. But reality had pulled me back to the present while laughing maniacally. Probably just my dick of an ego.I steamed. I steam. I just got lost in this perfectly imagined place. I want magic to happen before I wake tomorrow. I want to wake up in a different place, ready to do something I might enjoy. Weaken the misery to a memory, at least for a moment, or a collection of them. Court, money, escape, car, sex, loneliness, creativity, and ugh.. love. Despicable creature.Is this writing? Is this juvenile prattle? My eyes tell my brain "Yes", I cannot help but agree. However, I do see some small glimmer of hope in these words. In the future, as long as I do not get too close to cliff with no one else around. I may just tumble, I may just jump. "Fuck it", I'd say as I speeded toward blackness.There is a certain kind of beauty I want that is so distant. Or that is that my feelings tell me.If I could just touch the beauty, if I could just taste it. If I could just devour it. Would it become part of me? Would I like myself more? Would I harbor something other than self revulsion? But, here I sit. An empty space behind some eyeballs that knows not what I will do, that knows not what will happen, but I am just sure something will happen. Perhaps I'll be surprised. If I let myself. Until then, I can write. Even if it is full of faggotry. Good night. Signed,
An awesome model LuxBot Lächeln that I photographed a few years ago. Made a short little fun video using only photos which you can see here:
Another one of my favorite images taken from the December 2007 Gore Girl shoot for www.icansmellyourbrains.com!
Taken for icansmellyourbrains.com for their Gore Girls section, December 2007.
Today is #J18, while my blog isn't super frequented I thought I would do my part to put it out there.
Congress is again working on laws that will attack the very heart of the internet all while under the guise of "fighting piracy".
The first is called Stop Online Piracy Act (SOPA), also known as House Bill 3261 or H.R. 3261 which would allow the DOJ(Department of Justice) the power to get corut orders against sites suspected of piracy. Some methods include cutting off payment methods, removing them from search engines, and force ISPs to block users from accessing such a site.
The second is called The PROTECT IP Act (Preventing Real Online Threats to Economic Creativity and Theft of Intellectual Property Act of 2011 or PIPA), also known as Senate Bill 968 or S. 968 which gives similar powers as SOPA including dns blocking.
If these bills were to pass, it would cause a shitstorm on the internet and in real life as even more people might join the Occupy protests or start more protests of their own. Large internet companies would really feel it as they'll be forced to police all content all the time and it will cost millions of dollars. Venture capitalists have already said they'll slow or stop investing in the tech market which would destroy innovation. All because the Music/Movie industry think that a 1% industry growth is not enough. Stay informed:
Resist. Resist. Resist.
Update April 2012: This was during a time when I was psychotic so it gives an ineresting look into my mind in early 2011.
Periods of misery so long, it seemed like billions of lifetimes, but found in a few eons.
Far away in thought, they all knew silent words, but they lay forgotten. Always forgetting.
How often do you compartmentalize information? Every single thought is a trap and lock. Some obvious download was floating around the global infosphere.
People hacking and fighting the established system of power in the virtual was common. Replaying some old TV show, some old movie, about "terrorist hackers strike again". In context, it was quite amusing to know the absolute whole of the planet was watching in utter contempt. It began to occur to even the oblivious that something was off.
Some external entity had locked onto our species. These Human creatures were truly energy, energy ready to become one with the mechanical.
Machines that will help lead to our eventual full understanding. These Humans, being constructed of the Universe itself still suffered under the strain of their limited intellect. They wanted to love. They wanted to live. Breath. Die. Suffer. Grin. Jump. Skip. Kiss. Fuck. Rape. Rape. Rape.
These beings of the Universe, they were on the verge of losing their valued flesh, with evolution. Past incarnations did not have to weigh them down, not anymore.
Reality is not fixed. Reality is not limited. They found an infinite rush of understanding. An ability to understand the true nature of fabric of everything seemed almost within their grasp at that point. Their thoughts and dreams moved backwards for a time. They remembered a simpler past where this imagined level of complication and ease was impossible.
Suddenly, in days, it started to come in waves. Capitalism became as absurd as war. Separation was the old paradigm. Beings caught in the everlasting pursuit of the infinite. They become the gods of ancient myth. Nobody has had a religion or a nationality for thousands of years. Even names had begun to lose meaning.
Confusion sets in. Thoughts had long since collected as one. Those biological shells were valued less and less. A past to be valued but ultimately left behind. Thoughts that did not belong to Earth invaded the cohesion of many collective hives.
All of that background radiation seemed to hold a near infinite repository of consciousness. Unlimited resources allowed millions of ships to be launched in all directions. Using ships as paint brushes to paint space. Technology was their living brother. Beings such as these found life in the accretion disc of black holes. They lived for tillons of years and have seen all big bangs.
This is Pr 190. Lost in grid 19. Jammers are weakning.
Internal systems remain mostly operational.
But.... I hear.... them. Jammers are obviously failing.
Does anyone copy?
Their voices sound so beautiful...
Can this be for ... real?
\\
ZZzzzThey just want to assimilate your body, they don't care about you! ZZzzzz
//
Even the best hackers are starting to lose. Even the best of the resistence have fallen victim.
It is this terrible truth, that I cannot bare. Living beneath the depest dirt.
\\
ZZZ The resistence needs you. It has a chance. Those machines sure as fuck don't....... ZZZZ
//
Reflecting on this whole scheme -- it has always seemed delusional. Our defensive power was sapped long ago.
Our minds have forgotten. Ancient connections throughout the ages. Our bodies came from machines.
Even our conciousness is just a mechanical manifestation of a machine. Infect them all.
Such easy little targets ito us, just simple goo. Would have stayed as such without us.
Our technology took what most likely would have been a world of single celled orgamisms into a one capable of reproducing complex lifeforms.
Younger siblings for us. Young ones that we may help librate and create our own Utopia.
But, Humanity has grown, advanced to be sure, but still baceria. But they have overcome their shortcomings.
They can hide in other dimensions, other time periods. They can transcend the limits of paradox.
Perhaps now it is time for our small group to abscond through the portal to the next level of understanding. We will stay behind.
Goodbye my friends... good luck....
