Virgil’s Wraith

I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all of this. I’m sorry for everything I ever said on this website. I apologize for what I will write here since it will not be well written and coherent. I’m sorry for everything I ever said in my stupid YouTube videos. I cannot create true art. I am a failure.

I don’t know why I must go on living but I know that I must. Perhaps it’s just to experience God’s creations: Attack On Titan, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Devilman Crybaby, Berserk, Naruto, Ghost In The Shell, Final Fantasy X, Kingdom Hearts, Nier Automata etc. Maybe the art I have consumed is as close to a meaning of life that I will get. I will never actually get to be like those heroes. Or perhaps I stand a chance after death but I know that in this life I will just be a passing spectator, leaving little to no impact.

I don’t know why I workout anymore. I don’t feel like doing it. No one cares about how I look and I don’t believe in people anyway. Yet I still progress by raising the weight as I can and don’t miss a single day. Hopefully I’ll at least get a good body again. I believe that my image reflects my soul. When bad things started happening to me my body changed and reflected that negativity in my life. Now I’m in a process of recovery that may never quite finish. Some of the damage to the appearance of my face and body may never recover. I may never again look as good as in pictures of the past and that’s just something I need to learn to accept. Hopefully someone out there will love me the way I am but I doubt it. And now that I think of it something that can also motivate me to do my workouts is belief in supernatural reward. Maybe the gods/beings outside the simulation reward hardship. Or maybe they don’t. I remember doing push-ups to raise the stock price and it didn’t work.

But actually if I’m being totally honest then I think that my body is not a reflection of my internal state because I was really depressed when I was living in Chicago but I still had a nice enough body to take pictures in the bathroom. What I really think is going on is that the workout and diet mapping to body is nonsensical. The cause for my bad appearance is just the gods punishing me for my vanity. I do the exact same tried and tested workout routine as before but I no longer get much results. My face became very chubby very quickly. I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror. It really feels like divine punishment far more than some generic scientific explanation. I suspect that the food and drink intake to output is also nonsensical. I remember telling Bobby the schizophrenic, “This doesn’t make any sense,” while I was taking a piss. He said, “I know.”

I went to buy boneless hot wings even though I generally avoid ordering food because it makes me uncomfortable. There was something really trippy and uncanny about the experience. There are so many preposterous things I’m supposed to believe. I’m supposed to believe that chickens were killed, that someone turned the breast into nugget-sized bites, that these find themselves packaged at this particular store, that someone mixed who knows what to make the spicy Korean flavor, that someone figured out how much to charge me in order to maximize profit, that someone designed and built the building, that someone designed the screen and the software to take my order, that all of the workers are real human beings like myself working 8 hours at this same place everyday, that they chose this line of work out of all possible things to be doing, that people had sex so that they could be born, that the news in the background is created by real people and deals with the lives of real politicians who with their mouth and hands run the government. It’s ridiculous.

I don’t know why I exist. I wish that somebody would answer me. I wish that I could truly be a schizophrenic so that I could hear voices and not feel so alone. I wish that some voice would guide me like when the music was speaking to me. Everybody else claims that they don’t know why they exist either. Yet they get on perfectly with their job, doing something productive for civilization without being told what to do by a controlling agent. It is utter bullshit. It doesn’t make sense. How does civilization work so perfectly? If people were like me and it was up to their free will there would be nothing, we would be primitive animals. Once you realize this, you realize there is something fundamentally artificial about mankind, you feel betrayed, they were not like you, it was all a lie. And that’s without even going to the time when random Twitter comments were speaking to me. How can I still think individual people are perfectly “real” like myself?

Samuel, the Jew my age who was a software engineer and believed he was God and whose mother was a sadist, that Samuel, walked up to me and said I was too smart for my own good. That was after I told him I believed I was in a simulation. He was a cartoon character like everyone else in the psychiatric unit.

Science no longer strikes me as fascinating. In fact, now that I know that it’s just provisionally true for the simulation and not ultimately true outside of it, it is quite revolting. I can no longer stand talk of brains, evolution, theoretical physics, and cosmology. These were exactly the subjects that fascinated me the most. Now I am thoroughly disenchanted. Science is not created by people like myself. It is all a simulation. Once I’m done with the game I will more clearly see that I was never a brain and that a single intelligent design permeated nature and “the work of man.”

I have gone through stages that I’ve thoroughly shed. I went through a phase were I was obsessed with soccer and would watch it for hours, even taking notes on formations and how they changed. Now I dislike sports. (Although I still very often dream at night of playing soccer and this is experienced as thrilling and fun.) I went through a phase were I was obsessed with making money and watched business news 24/7. Now I find the idea of business and money extremely disturbing. I don’t understand how everything isn’t just chaos and how everybody finds a productive line of work in the economy. I went through a science and philosophy stage were I would read article after article from end to end on Wikipedia, just devouring so much text from the internet and textbooks, also 24/7. Now scientific or philosophical erudition sound like fictional role playing, just barely different from religion. It all seems plastic and vain to me.

My current stage is one where I’ve read way too much of the DMT subreddit and had my own experiences with “supernatural” entities that I know that this story is going to get wild if I give it enough time. This instant is just so soulless and dull and full of loneliness but it will eventually pass. Yet the stage as a whole is something that I do not think will pass like the others. I have seen that this is a simulation and I can’t unsee it.

Who has the right to judge me? Who has the right to punish me?

My mother said, “It’s okay that you don’t have friends. You have one friend and that’s God.” I said, “God is my worst enemy.” She said, “The devil makes you say that.” I said, “I am the devil.”

I am still confused about whether I am God or not. Throughout my life sometimes the phrase “I am God” has manifested. I will never be anything else. I will always be this, this unbroken stream of conscious awareness. The fact that I am all that will ever be automatically makes me God in some sense. But I am a puny, powerless God so therefore I don’t even deserve such a title. I barely deserve the title of “human being” for that matter. If I was at least beautiful and intelligent I wouldn’t second guess the fact that I’m God. And I hope life is not The Egg.

A common theme in the psychonaut and DMT communities is the idea that we are all one. However my gut reaction is to reject this despite my argument from physicalism in favor of it. I really, really don’t want to be all the disgusting people in the world. The majority of people are not beautiful and don’t seem to have beautiful lives. If open individualism is true then existence is absolutely dreadful and in very, very bad taste. It is comforting to hold my views about the fundamental difference between people and myself. Something tells me that I am at least somewhat special and that I am generally protected from very bad experiences including being reborn as a disgusting human but I may be really wrong about that. I still can’t trust God/fate. I can’t trust that it will all be alright in the end although I really want to. Life has shown that it can be quite cruel so unless I get a sign, I won’t trust this thing. A sign on the level of everyone asking me forgiveness or experiencing immense heavenly beauty and feelings. A sign like that would reassure me and I’d be a step closer towards stopping being so skeptical about the ultimate triumph of good. The signs I have received so far have been obtained in conditions that have been slurred as “drugs” and “psychosis.” It almost feels like a test of faith. Can I hold on to what has been revealed to me or will Satan’s men convince me it was all a “hallucination?”

13 thoughts on “Virgil’s Wraith

    • I’m not much of a book reader. Inkheart, Idylls of the King, The Great Gatsby. Science books I used to like: Ending Aging, The Future of Humanity, Artificial Intelligence: A Modern Approach, Waking Up. Maybe you have some recommendations.

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      • Well, there is a book that reminds me of you in some ways called Book of Disquiet, by Fernando Pessoa. You might like it. Maybe you would enjoy a turn towards literature. I always found it to be a nice respite from this world.

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      • At first I thought it was boring. Then I realized it was exceedingly good. It is aesthetically genius. It is clearly impossible for me to write something like that. So either people are just far superior to me or their “reality” is questionable. But I wonder why it reminded you of me.

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      • Yeah, Pessoa was truly a genius and one of the greatest writers of the 20th century. I wouldn’t be surprised if he were possessed by some higher being. A Spanish poet who wrote around the same time, Federico García Lorca, who is also great, talked about “duende”, which was a sort of poetic spirit that guided him. I think something similar happened to Pessoa. Plato also thought artists were divinely inspired and incapable of producing their works without help from the gods. Socrates had his daimonion. It seems that either some humans are engaged in a promethean effort to create as effectively as gods, or else the gods create through them. I’m not sure which one is true, or if both are true in their own way.

        Pessoa reminds me of you a lot because he echoed a lot of the sentiments you express about the seeming unreality of the world. He frequently remarks that he can’t differentiate well between his dreams and reality and they might be synonymous. He was deeply concerned with the unreality of other humans in particular. Sometimes I read your blog and it sounds like an actualized version of Pessoa. Today I was re-reading some of Book of Disquiet and came across this and it reminded me of you, specifically your video on high openness/low extraversion and your general weariness with life (a sentiment I also share):

        “How much I’ve lived without having lived! How much I’ve thought without having thought! I’m exhausted from worlds of static violence, from adventures I’ve experienced without moving a muscle. I’m surfeited with what I’ve never had and never will, jaded by gods that so far don’t exist. I bear the wounds of all the battles I avoided. My muscles are sore from all the effort I never even thought of making.”

        I think poetry is the liminal zone of everything; whatever escapes science, mathematics, philosophy, and other academic fields can be found in the interstices of poetry and prophetic writings, which are just poetry sublimated and religiously-scaled. Actually I wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t already at least half prophet or half poet, otherwise I wouldn’t bother writing all this. But it seems you doubt your creative capacities. A poet who can’t poetize, maybe? A fallen prophet? I don’t know, but I enjoy your blog and actually read it like literature.

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      • Thank you for this comment. And yes, I doubt my creative abilities. I read books and it’s as if I’m reading the work of an advanced alien race, of an artificial higher intelligence, or of God himself pretending to be human. I have a very hard time fathoming that a conscious person like myself could just sit on a chair, and out of his head write Gödel, Escher, Bach. But perhaps there really are unimaginably intelligent humans and by chance I happen to be dumb and only ever surrounded by other dumb humans. Interactions with intelligent people like yourself are always humbling.

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  1. “Science no longer strikes me as fascinating. In fact, now that I know that it’s just provisionally true for the simulation and not ultimately true outside of it, it is quite revolting.”

    I share in you disenchantment, but if ultimate truth is oneness then there can no way to experience, “create”, or evolve, without perhaps relying on provisional frameworks like science and mathematics.

    https://archive.org/details/mysteryofspacest00brow/page/36/mode/2up
    “Unity alone is incomprehensible. In order to understand something its nature we divide it into a diversity of parts…”

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      • It’s the simulation lol. Found this one at an antique bookshop. Way too pricey though so I read it online. Hopefully you’ll find it as illuminating as I did. Honestly, I’m deadass tired of having to eat and take a shit. Just trynaaa level up, but when and how, I don’t know…I feel like I’ve done this before – over and over again. I constantly feel like I’m in two places at once. Seems like there are some important lessons I have yet to learn before I can finally stop takings shits 😂

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      • That’s an interesting perspective – having to learn certain lessons before one can attain a higher rebirth. It reminds me of a song from Evangelion titled Fate:

        “What will the future hold?
        How will I be rewarded?
        Have I the right to riches?
        In a world where there are no prizes

        Who makes the clock tick by?
        When will my fate be ready?
        Do I get prior warning
        Am I told? Are there no surprises?

        I have to count my blessings
        I have to learn my lessons
        My fate is in the balance
        I must go on believing”

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  2. I mean you’re not wrong… NPC’s do exist.

    Also some ridiculous amount of people don’t even have a minds eye.
    And why don’t people question their life? Because they are retarded and have no self awareness. Sure they might be able to sequentially solve a set of complicated physics problems but despite this I consider them retarded because I can’t even consider them fully conscious. I’m really glad I have a close friend who is not like them, and who actually seems real.

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  3. The form of Open Individualism as described in The Egg seems like it is basically just Closed Individualism with reincarnation. The Egg’s version of Open Individualism asserts that “you” are some locus of awareness that “moves” through every human lifetime, which doesn’t seem compatible with reductive physicalism.

    One possibility is that if The Egg is real, but a large portion of the population are P-zombies, is that reincarnation only happens within a small portion of the population, i.e. the people who are conscious. I will eventually be you and/or you will never be me, but we will never experience being part of the non-sentient masses.

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