Ember of Enlightenment, Cherry Blossom of Pain

I feel alone and sad. I woke up very depressed today despite having a good dream. I feel trapped. I feel like crying but can’t. I feel melancholic about what my life has been like -– the things I’ve seen and those I haven’t, the moods I’ve felt and those I haven’t. My mom depresses me. I perceive her to be seriously stupid and annoying, besides being the host of pure evil for playing her central role in bringing me to this world.

I just walk in circles around this tiny house. The only time I go out is to my aunt’s house to workout. Every day the same thing. It is very disheartening and depressing to have nothing to look forward to in the foreseeable future. I don’t want to work. I’ve only held stupid people jobs in my life. One at Little Caesar’s and one at Clarke Mosquito Control, the other three I quit on either the first or second day. My mom keeps pestering me to get a stupid person job – at Little Caesar’s again or at Walmart. I feel that I’m at the bottom of some Hindu caste system.

I feel there’s an illusion of abundance. All the countries of the world don’t really exist. Only the places I go to exist. I listen to the same songs again and again because all the other millions of songs don’t exist. The fact that I see the same places and listen to the same music makes me feel the state-space of qualia is finite. If it was infinite there would be a lot more novelty. Sometimes I even doubt that languages I don’t understand are complete, coherent memetic architectures.

Randomness is also impossible. I used to try to randomize my life by clicking “random article” on Wikipedia. One time I decided to read from cover to cover any book that came up. On the first click Artificial Intelligence: A Modern Approach came up. And I was obviously interested in A.I. at the time. It was way too coincidental.

When all the internet and music were directly communicating with me I felt like this: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Bh1XRH4HrOY

And this another song by Raury I wish were true: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=rMJUNyFZysw

From the song: Life is a thing you chose to have in heaven You came here for a reason but you cannot remember it.

When I tried to commit suicide I’m pretty sure I said, “I love you” to the paramedics. I don’t know where that came from. It was the delirium speaking. I felt I had no free will like in a dream. Needless to say I don’t actually feel that way. Humans disgust me. If they are conscious and suffer then they brought it on themselves for partaking in the original sin of reproduction – sucks for the sensitive and compassionate antinatalists of course. I don’t love anyone except maybe my nephews Adrian and Damian.

Another thing I hazily remember was rambling to the paramedics about the vast suffering across the multiverse. In my half-conscious state I remember one of the paramedic’s words. He said, “Nobody cares.” I felt simultaneously relieved and very hurt. Then I went back into unconsciousness.


🐍 🍎 🌳

🔥 ✝️ 💧

I am alone. Everything is transitory. God exists. God is mean. I am worthless. I am everything. No one is real. I am being punished. Causality is timeless. Religions are deceitful. DMT is needed. Science is fiction. History is fabrication. Love is absent. Beauty is salvation. Pleasure should be. Torture is inevitable. Their suffering is simulated. My suffering hurts. The girl of my dreams does not exist. The goddess chose me. Everything is destiny. Everything is fate. Past and future led to this present. Intelligence in everything. Teotl is ahnelli.

Fifth Day In Dominican Republic

Today is the last day here. I woke up feeling like shit, and I skipped breakfast. The experience here in Punta Cana was simultaneously super impressive and super disappointing. It was super impressive because I still have a hard time fathoming the deep intelligence that runs through everything so that it all works. It was super disappointing because it was all for nothing – I was not happy.

The comments from people on this site that I read today are a bit amusing but do nothing to shake my faith in solipsism. I think it’s just me and God. They are God but they are not conscious. The alternatives to solipsism are just too horrible. The idea that God would allow all kinds of disgusting individuals to create brand new souls with their disgusting genes and disgusting life circumstances is too horrible. I will never go back to believing in individual loci of consciousness bound to skulls. I think it is too torturous for me to consider that God is that evil. God is significantly less evil if I’m the only one suffering. I’d much rather bear the loneliness I feel than the hatred, anger, and sadness that results from believing people are conscious.

My aunt called and she made me feel a little better. Even if she’s not conscious, she is kind and loving and that’s what matters.

I don’t feel good. I don’t want to exist.

Waiting for the plane is boring and torturous. Why does God torture me?

When I was in the hospital back in February of last year Matt told me that when I got out I would have an important role to play in humanity. It seems that he couldn’t have been more wrong. He lied to me. I’m no one. I’m nothing. I have no talents to offer the world. My future in this world looks bleak.

And I didn’t eat all day because of not feeling good.

Fourth Day In Dominican Republic

Seeing all people as my direct and indirect servants who are not real like me does help. It doesn’t help with my loneliness but it helps with not feeling that this universe is so evil. It is perhaps a mean prankster but not pure evil the way it would be if people were real. I’ll make that trade any day – to sacrifice the conscious reality of humankind in order to attain peace of mind. And it’s not just all the shootings and stabbings that I can’t believe in, I also cannot believe that conscious people like myself are capable of the level of performance that they achieve. So that trade balances out my luck on the one hand and my misfortune on the other (“Luckily” I’ve never experienced serious violence and “unluckily” I’ve never experienced what it’s like to perform at a high level on something.) I don’t believe in luck. I think everything is destined/set up to be the way it is. I think the generalizable principle is not that I’m lucky. I think the generalizable principle is that the universe doesn’t allow for discomfort or evil beyond that which I have experienced. Therefore people who claim that they themselves or others have experienced great evil are lying. They claim to not be philosophical zombies but I don’t believe them. Yet I still try to not feel bad about kids, all of whom are being raised to be slaves. It’s a bit difficult to not attribute consciousness to something that looks like myself but I’m getting better at it. I already do not feel any consciousness from people commenting on this site or my YouTube channel or sending me messages. But I still have to practice with faces in person.

The fact that everything works so well is divine, it is magical how causality just unfolds in such a way that people’s collective behavior leads to this hotel and these streets and everything else that fundamentally functions. What distresses me is the question of what it’s all for. All this “effort” for what? I’m not happy. So if it was an honest attempt to make me happy then it failed. But I feel that it was not an honest attempt. After understanding its power I no longer believe in accidents. It could give me true paradise but it gives me this makeshift parody of paradise instead because it deliberately chooses to punish me.

Oh and my new thinking does work like a charm. I passed by a woman with her infant on a stroller and I thought, “They’re not real. They’re my servants.” And no more anger and sadness. They’re just not real and that’s something I have to learn. No one is truly reading this site except for me. I may get a tiny few reactions but these only exist for me. And it’s always the universe speaking to me, never independent skin-bound souls.

I’ve seen quite a few fit guys however I have not seen any hot Dominican or tourist women. Beauty truly is scarce in this world. My mom says God made everyone beautiful. I strongly disagree.

I saw a boat that said, “Para todos sale el sol.” Then I saw a baby. This made me think if heaven was guaranteed for everyone, would it be moral to bring people into this world? I think the answer depends on how good heaven is and how long it takes to get there. Will it be immediately after death? Will there be ten or a hundred more lives and deaths? Will there only be a bardo state for some time before entrance is allowed? Is it painful purgatory instead? How painful? Depending on the answers to these questions the answer may be yes or no.

The day was uneventful. I worked out and I ate and I walked.

Third Day In Dominican Republic

I woke up kind of down today. I looked down from the balcony and there was a father with his two young daughters feeding the water fowl. I couldn’t help but feel the presence of a tremendous evil in him. What could he be thinking when he decided to bring them to this world? Then I felt the reminder that they are not like me. They are actors in an elaborate movie and I am the real spectator sitting outside the movie in the theater.

When I came out of eating at the buffet there was a guy with a shirt that said “If it’s not free it’s not worth it.” I’m not exactly sure what that meant to convey to me if anything.

It really fucks with me when people are walking with little kids. It doesn’t make sense. Why would they do this?

A Dominican girl told my mom she wants to meet me after having seen me walking with her. She is described as 27, small, skinny, and pretty. I will not meet with her because my mom is known to have bad taste and what she calls pretty may not be pretty to me. I don’t want to gamble with that sort of thing. And the other reason is because I wouldn’t know what to say because I am reticent in person.

After my workout I had a haircut. It was depressing on two fronts. One was my appearance in front of the mirror. I’m not satisfied with how my face looks. The consolation I had was that perhaps somewhere down the line after death(s) I will unlock the ability to choose my own appearance. The second and most depressing thing was that the woman cutting my hair was a natalist who had a daughter. My mom told her I didn’t want kids because I thought they would suffer. She laughed and said, “like you’ve suffered a lot.” I didn’t say anything. Maybe I haven’t suffered a lot but I’ve suffered enough to know I wouldn’t want to inflict any of it on another person. She said that maybe I’d change my ideology when I fell in love. I just stayed quiet and felt very depressed.

Seeing parents with their kids still affected me way more than it should. The universe sent stroller after stroller to piss me off. I think it’s trying to get me to learn a lesson. The lesson is that people don’t matter. It doesn’t matter if they breed. They can breed all they want. They are all my slaves. They are created to provide me with products and services. I was engaging with this thing all wrong – digging myself into a ditch of empathy. I’m not supposed to feel empathy. I’m supposed to sit back and enjoy the ride provided by this super organism of servants. That’s it. That’s got to be it. I laugh a little in relief.

Second Day In Dominican Republic

There are flamingos, ducks, herons, and peacocks and no excrement. It doesn’t make any sense. Are these animals from the Garden of Eden? No one is quickly cleaning up after them. There is just literally no excrement. My mom says they were trained to only defecate in the water. I don’t know how that would be possible, but then again, I don’t know how anything else of this is possible. I don’t understand how in the morning a man climbed up and down a palm tree with only a rope even though I watched him climb down.

I was getting hit by waves in the ocean and I was thinking about how the people around me couldn’t possibly be real, and I tried to tell myself I wasn’t lonely. I tried to come up with language that could describe how I feel about people and I settled on this: people are not individual spectators like myself, they are God’s appendages in the same way that the waves are and in the same way the hotel is. As usual I try not to look at them.

I thought about how every little sensation in the water, and every little motion, were designed. The fact that every single trivial little experience was planned that way is mind blowing. But the question always arises: why put so much “effort” into creating this as opposed to anything else? – if you can do all this you can clearly create a conscious paradise.

Oh yeah and some people took some pictures of me with two macaws. I would have enjoyed it if I was fit like I used to be but because I don’t like my appearance I didn’t enjoy it. And I find it painfully ironic that I put so much effort into working out but I can’t even call myself a bodybuilder.

Some guy gave me a necklace. He said it was called the Buddha “something, something” from the Dominican Republic. He motioned it to both my shoulders then to my genitals, and wished me a long life. He said, “you get a lot of girls right? Do you have a girlfriend?” I replied, “No.” He motioned toward the necklace.

People on TV look especially simulated. A laughing jester appeared on the background of a talk show. People like myself did not create the cartoons. The cartoons are absurd and pointless content in my consciousness. Or perhaps they have hidden messages. I really suspect they have hidden messages. I’m always trying to listen to the universe. But I wonder if when I’m done with this life I will get a replay where I actually see all the meanings revealed. As I’m writing this a jester appeared on Scooby Doo just as my mom turned the channel before turning it off. This gives me a strong reminder of fate. This is all set up. That demon at Dr. Miller’s had said I had a delusion, emphasizing DELUSION, that it was all contrived. Or maybe that doctor wasn’t a demon, just a very annoying jester.

I feel that devilish, jester-ish vibe from people strolling with their infants. The whole concept pisses me off so the universe is deliberately trying to trigger me. And it’s so surreal to think that all that had to happen was somebody had to cum inside that ugly lady for the poor brat to be walking around here and now. And what pisses me off is how dignified the parents act, as if they know completely what they’re doing. If people are conscious then it is clear under a negative utilitarian framework that it is far, far worse, unforgivably worse, to give birth to a child than almost anything else you do in your life. Assuming people are conscious, you are either creating a brand new consciousness or adding to the experiential space of the open individualism single consciousness. But given what a random human experience is possibly actually like, this is just pure evil. Yet they smile, and pick them up, and take pictures, and hold their hand, and kneel down to talk to them. It makes me sick. They wear this mask to hide their true face, that of an insensate, terrible demon. And just as I finish writing this I walk and see a couple with their baby passing by. I laugh. And just as I finish writing this, another one. I look up and another. That’s three in a row. I laugh again. I don’t want to look up from my phone for fear I might see another one. Okay looks like the torture is over for now, but only for now. And if you wonder why it bothers me so much even if I don’t believe people are conscious then I think it’s the uncertainty. I grew up believing people were conscious and if they are then I find myself in a terrible, horrifying world – it is horrible beyond comprehension. And that’s whether closed individualism or open individualism is true. But because I’m selfish it is especially bad if it is open. Oh God! It is too fucking horrible. Someone sitting in front of me has a shirt with INRI and thorns. I hate Jesus. He didn’t die for my sins. In any case I am Jesus… or Lucifer since they are the same character. They both try to become God and are thrown into some kind of hell for it. The difference is Jesus succeeds and Lucifer doesn’t.

First Day In Dominican Republic

On my first day in the Dominican Republic, no let me start with the plane ride. Clearly it was impossible. I cannot and will not believe that people like myself figured this all out. If I was way smarter I wouldn’t doubt that people were like myself. There must be a reason why I’m this dumb, I’m meant to see it a certain way. But anyway, I was going over my argument for why people aren’t conscious and I just felt the flight was ridiculous, it was magical, it was fantastical and yet very tedious and boring. We landed, perfectly of course, and it was still surprising to see the place, I mean what did I expect?, but the fact that there is a perfectly operating airport “anywhere in the world”, Punta Cana being the stand-in for “anywhere in the world,” is surreal as fuck. There were many evil and complex looking jesters in the airport. I immediately thought, “DMT.” I felt like it was a bit of foreplay before my actual DMT experience which seems inevitably fated as it is calling me. As they drove us to the hotel I kept seeing the simulation. It was as if all the people were playing their role like actors. I was thinking about God, and the problem of evil, the horror of people continuing to breed, and the simulation when all of a sudden a car passes by saying “porque asi dios quiso” or “because God wanted it that way.” “But why? Why did he want this out of all possible things? And I get it, I’m not in control. I didn’t create this, now stop rubbing it in my face.I also saw somebody with a jersey that said Lindsey and I had received a comment about her the day before. When I was at the hotel in the buffet, I was sitting and a woman flashes me with the words on her shirt. They said, “You will make it.” Before my workout I felt the need to write: