Dream 18 – 3/29/18 – ???

[No time written. It says “Early morning.”]

I remember I was back in my childhood home, in the family room, and I was looking out the window to the backyard where there were a bunch of little kids running around. I think it might have been a birthday party.

I was playing some kind of game with Donald Trump. My mom was the judge of the game.

I don’t remember any of the rules, only that it required facing towards the other person, grabbing their hands and pushing as hard as you could (maybe to knock them over?) It was some kind of test of physical strength.

I won a couple of times and my mom left to do something. I told Trump something along the lines of “you need to know when to give up” and he said he wouldn’t stop playing until he won.

My mom didn’t come back after a while and Trump sort of disappeared.

Something happened after that I don’t remember, but the next thing I do remember is watching some kind of video about a guy in a foreign land who had discovered something called “Cavals”.

These Cavals caused objects to float in midair, occasionally rising or falling a bit, and it was implied that they were some sort of mysterious, naturally occurring force.

I was suddenly in the room with the floating objects. I tossed a couple of them around, a vase and a statue of Jesus (which I remember feeling guilty about even though it caused no harm).

The founder/creator of the Cavals (I think I write creator here because I had a suspicion they may not have been naturally occurring as was said on the video) was saying something to me from another room over intercom. He had a very thick accent, but I don’t know what it was.

The man entered the room and I expressed my amazement over the Cavals and asked about their origin. I can’t remember exactly what he said, but he took out a remote and started setting up some sort of transceiver-looking device.

I asked, “oh, is it electronic?” and he didn’t reply. I remember feeling disappointed that it seemed to be artificial and not natural.

After setting up, the transceiver said something about the Cavals generating a strong field that could cause “structal cancer.” I felt uncomfortable about this and left the room.

The events following this start to blend together.

The man exited the room as well, but was no longer a regularly-shaped foreign man, but an obese American with a cap and a T-shirt.

He walked over to a smartphone plugged into some kind of machine and said “Winning 40,” and I presumed he was setting something up.

There was now a boy in the Cavals room playing a game where a machine would shoot out baseballs and he’d hit them with a bat. I remember some of the balls didn’t really float, though.

I was suddenly watching a video again, from the perspective of the baseball machine looking at the boy, and he kept complaining because he’d get shot in the hand or face. He said something and the machine started calling out things like “head” or “body” whenever it shot and the boy said “ok, that’s better,” though he still failed to hit any pitches.

I remember a girl appeared in the room. She was young, maybe around 16, and black-skinned. She had a conversation with the boy about something, but I don’t remember what.

The boy disappeared from my view (or perhaps I was now seeing through his perspective) and I was looking directly at the girl.

It was like the camera zoomed out, and then she began to walk towards me repeating the same name over and over again: “Cameron. Cameron. Cameron.”

I remember her face was blank and the boy’s voice sounded distressed and said something like “what are you doing?” I remember wondering if the girl’s name was Winnie, but then thinking “no, I’m just remembering ‘Winning 40’ from earlier.”

The girl kept approaching and I woke up as she reached the boy/me thinking “nope, I don’t want to know what happened.”





The Internet is destroying us all

Just the other day, I was watching a video interview where Jaron Lanier was talking with some British TV host who is probably quite famous in the land of tea and crumpets. It’s no surprise that I seemingly stumbled upon Jaron Lanier with no previous knowledge of him; it popped up in my Youtube recommended section, and those algorithms are just as good if not better than Jaron described in the video.

But as interesting as it was to hear his perspective on the issue of behavioral modification, something I’ve openly complained about to friends since 2014, more interesting to me was my reaction to a woman who asked him a question in the Q&A section.

She asked, and I’m paraphrasing, “With the boom in popularity of VR entertainment, what do you think should be done in terms of regulation of illegal activities in VR, such as rape and pedophilia?”

And my immediate reaction was “oh my God, another stupid feminist cunt.”

Now, don’t get me wrong, I still think she’s a stupid cunt. You don’t regulate fictional media, you solve, as Jaron put much more eloquently than I am now, the underlying issue of WHY the media exists and WHY it is popular enough to survive (one of those reasons are women like her who feed into this never-ending loop of pitting people against each other).

The thing is, I got myself so worked up over this comment that I finally had to stop the video and ask myself what was going on. Hell, I felt compelled to write this shitty blog post! Of course, the answer had just been given to me in the very same video: I’m stuck in a feedback loop.

Just like the woman asking this question. Just like the interviewer who followed up Jaron’s answer by trying to bring up the supposed issue of masculinity being too prevalent in Silicon Valley.

I mean, if I even just type out the words “#MeToo” or “Black Lives Matter“, what would be the response of someone reading? I’m 99.9% certain it’s a negative reaction, whether or not you are a part of these movements. On the one hand, you might be like me and notice how proponents of the movements have taken them so far as to be utterly preposterous. On the other hand, you might be someone who supports the fundamental thing that the movements stood for (keyword “stood”), sees the ridiculous uproar about it from my side, and then concludes that the world is filled with racists and misogynists.

You’re not thinking about the movement. You’re thinking about people. People engage you. Engagement makes certain people money in this place…

Look at me, I am a misogynist now for Christ’s sake. I didn’t used to be.

And that’s what’s SUPPOSED to happen.

I’m supposed to see idiot cunts saying misogynists are just neck beards who get rejected by women. I’m supposed to hear about the next incident of censorship in a videogame come West from Japan. I’m supposed to because it frustrates me, it makes me want to engage, like I am now, albeit in a place no one will see.

One of the things people who are generally “on my side of the aisle”, so to speak, often say is that Google has a political bent. And I used to agree with this, but I’ve recently discovered how absurd that is. I watch a lot of lesbian youtubers, because I love lesbians, and they have the same issue with demonetization that the anti-SJW crowd does. Why is that, I wondered?

Well… think about for 2 seconds objectively, and the answer is obvious.

Google isn’t running the show. Or I should say, Google people aren’t. Algorithms run the show. Algorithms that know how to maximize viewership and profit. How do you do that?

Give a little here, take a little there.

It’s how addiction works; it keeps you coming back. This person searches a lot of anti-SJW stuff? Give it to them. But also sprinkle in a little extra shit they weren’t asking for, just to get em frustrated, nervous, on edge. All these negative emotions so they seek out that sweet stuff, just to keep the spiral downward going, steeper and steeper.

This isn’t a conspiracy. It’s out in the open. Advertising is the model big Internet companies are using, and if you’re maximizing it with machine learning, the AI will do the best job it can. Turns out it revealed something I think most of us already know: negative emotions sell better than positive ones.

You think Google’s algorithms don’t work almost exactly as intended? Oh yes they do. And they work on everyone, not just one side or the other. You’re ALL insane along with me, don’t think you get a special “ignorant retard” pass, bucko.

And here’s the main point of this garbled, jibberish blog post man: it’s destroying people. And I have to write about it because I feel like my head is exploding sometimes. I know it’s destroying people because it’s destroying me. And if it wasn’t destroying most people it wouldn’t be destroying me in the first place.

I was already broken, so I’m just a prime candidate for this shit.

I eat it up like candy. Give me more sexy babes in swimsuits (preferably fucking each other), tell me the latest story about an idiot feminist, show me all the violent videogames starring half-naked women. I need it.

That’s what I think, you know? I think everyone has their own niche. Maybe it’s not lesbians, but we’re all in it in one way or another.


I’m coming up with a plan to get off of social media. Here it is in writing, since that makes it official, right? Now to some extent, for my job, I need it, so these are my initial ideas:

-Only search for Youtube videos, no using the recommended sections.

-Disable comments (there’s a plugin for this in Firefox and Chrome).

-Unsubscribe from all advertising emails

-Use TOR unless you specifically need Gmail or something for work

And yah, that’s a good start probably. Good luck. Watch some more Jaron Lanier. Let’s figure this shit out before it kills everyone…



Me – 5/3/2012

At night, I cry because I feel and know that nobody loves me.

During the day, I want to cry from boredom and lack of friendship.

In the early mornings, I cry because I hate everyone and would rather stay in bed.

But then I cry more because what if I’m wasting a pointless, godless life just lying in bed doing nothing? Then I wonder what am I supposed to do outside of bed anyway?

This morning, I woke up and cried because I realized I truly am becoming a psychopath.

I want to isolate myself from everyone. I know without a doubt that if there were a button to push that would kill every selfish person on this stupid planet I would push it and feel no regret. And there would be no one left to populate the planet.

I hate everyone. I’m tired of getting pushed around. I’m tired of people pretending to be my friends or making me feel wanted and then turning their backs on me when I’m not fun for one day because I need help.

I’m tired of feeling like I want to kill everyone. I’m tired of not having the strength to kill anyone. I wish everyone would just disappear and leave me alone.

I wish I would stop crying even as I type this, realizing what I’m turning into. I wish I could stop writing “I,” but it’s not like this is about anyone else cause “You” and “They” and “Everyone” are just terms for hurtful, painful, evil sentient beings that are all out to make me miserable just by existing.

I hate my life. I hate using the word hate and meaning it wholeheartedly. I hate myself. I don’t see the point in going on.

I questioned whether or not there is a God this morning and if there’s not then I really am going to go over the edge. The only thing keeping me sane is not knowing for sure.

I’m going to break, and I can feel it coming soon.

“Me” is the title of the word document I wrote in haste a few years ago, early in the morning on a school day. I’ve cleaned up the typos. Thankfully I have not yet fully broken, despite my claim at the end.

I believe this was written during a major depressive episode.

I feel fine at the moment and can only partially relate to the words written here, though I often will think during depressive episodes, “don’t forget, even when you’re hypomanic, that you feel this way and this is a part of you.”

I’m completely self-conscious about my psycopathy, but I wonder if anyone else sometimes feels this way too.


Dream 17 – ??? – 5:00AM

[No date written. Based on being written after Dream 16 and referencing my apartment, probably still December 2017]

I was with K and A (two of my brothers) in a house I’d never been in, though it seemed familiar somehow (perhaps from past dreams). We were in the basement playing a card game.

I can’t remember precisely who won, but I think I did.

I also can’t remember exactly how this happened, only that it was tied to the card game, but we all contracted a mosquito-borne disease which K kept calling “bola” (by which I understood him to mean “Ebola”).

I then woke up in the dream and was sleeping on the couch of my current apartment. I noticed what looked like a black, gaping hole in the middle of the ceiling, and it caused me some discomfort. K muttered something about it as I got up and closed it.

I headed to the bathroom and was disoriented and a bit dizzy. I noticed that the bathroom resembled my current apartment’s bathroom, and I remember I attributed my dizziness to having been drinking.

As I was urinating, I saw that the urine was coming from my belly button area and was at first a bit concerned, though this quickly turned into curiosity. I had to reorient myself to make sure I was going in the toilet bowl.

I remember as I was urinating I heard K moving around and I locked the door to the bathroom.

When I’d finished, I called out to him, washed my hands, and explained what happened. He again said it was the “bola virus, for sure.”

We went upstairs as I was explaining and A overheard me and said he had experienced the same thing. I said I thought it was funny and he started crying. I gave him a hug to comfort him since it seemed the experience had been upsetting.

At this point, it seems it was almost morning, as I noticed when I looked outside the huge windows  it was becoming a bit lighter (the house was massive and clearly very expensive).

We gathered around the island in the kitchen. K brought out a pitcher of what looked to be iced tea (I assumed that’s what it was) and said he wanted a rematch. I can’t remember my exact reply. I remember he mentioned “the bola” again and I said “it can’t be Ebola, we’d be throwing up all over the place.”

I woke up and was distinctly aware I’d forgotten some details about the dream, such as something my mom said to us before we started playing the card game, who won the game, and how it was tied to the mystery virus.

Note: I feel it’s important to note that I didn’t feel afraid nor particularly aggressive in the dream. In fact, I mostly felt that I was having fun. The more I think about it, the more I’m sure I’ve been in this house in other dreams that I haven’t written down. The house keeps making me think of the Larkspur house I visited with J (my friend), where I met and started dating his sister, R.








Dream 16 – 12/17/17 – 10:00AM

I don’t recall why I was doing it, but I was looking for some sort of work online and came across an ad that struck my interest. I don’t know what the job was for.

I got to the place where the job was, a small room that looked sort of like it was inside a factory. I say that because the room was made entirely out of a brown-colored, rusty metal.

In this room there was a platform standing above a pool of lava (though the lava did not look like lava, it was more like a bright, orange liquid, like soda. I intuitively knew it was lava.) There was also a large hole separating that platform from another platform, and to cross it one had to run across some ropes. It is difficult to explain, but you could think of it as if it was a rope bridge, but some sections were cut out, meaning that as you crossed you’d need to jump from one section to another.

There was a pretty, dark-haired girl there with me and she was my friend. The rope bridge was a game, and so we ran back and forth across it a few times. This was fun and I enjoyed both the game as well as the girl, who I found myself becoming attracted to. We were talking this whole time, but I cannot remember what about.

The next part is not clear, and I don’t remember how it happened, but at some point the lava raised up in the room because of another girl, who I understood to be my employer for the unknown job.

I was trapped in this room filled with lava for 11 years. I understood that many others had also fallen into the same trap, unjustly locked in here and forced to waste 11 years of their lives. I remember this made me very upset and angry.

At the end of 11 years, I vaguely remember the employer being in the room. She had glasses, a cap, and twin-braided ponytails. She made me think of Hanekawa from the Monogatari Series. I asked her why she would do this. She said something to the effect of “Well, I want to teach people not to blindly listen to their voicemails.” I took this to mean she wanted to teach people not to believe everything they hear.

The employer left and the dark-haired girl I had played with shouted after her “But isn’t this way too much for something like that?” I think the employer responded, but don’t remember what she said.

A period of time passed and then I recall being with the dark-haired girl again and looking at the rope bridge. I felt a bit sad looking at it, knowing the horrible things that had happened in this room. The girl smiled, though, and ran across. I noticed this bridge was different from before now, because one could run all the way across without jumping if you stayed on the left or right sides. The middle was now just a gap.

I ran across one of the sides to get over, but watching the girl jump from one side to another, I decided to do this as well to make it more fun.

I don’t recall how I got there, but after this I appeared in the Living Room of my childhood home. The TV was on and the girl was watching it from the couch. It was not a big, modern TV, but a small square one with 2 antennas in the top, sitting atop a small stand.

I remember looking at the girl’s breasts and feeling lustful, so I moved towards the couch. I can’t remember if I touched her or what I said, only that the girl ignored whatever I said and instead replied “Look, this is my favorite commercial.”

My vision was enveloped by the entire TV screen and I watched an animated commercial in which there was no audio but there were subtitles. The images and subtitles moved so fast, however, that there was no time to read them. I remember thinking that was pretty funny.

The TV then changed to something else and the girl commented on the fact that it was Cartoon Network (the logo also appeared in the bottom right-hand corner of the screen.)

In between dreaming and waking I remember seeing an old, animated lady on the screen sitting over a bucket with people around her. Her bare butt was exposed and some sort of toxic-looking green fluid came out, filling the entire room and all of the people she was with were submerged.

After waking up and before writing this, I remember thinking it was gross and crude, and not very good humor.





I hope none of it is real

entropy – chaos


If it is real, then ultimately life must be suffering. I’m not saying that lightly, either; you really have to think about it for a long time before you can reasonably come to that conclusion.

My train of thought always starts with this idea of entropy, nature’s tendency towards chaos and disorder. Human beings truly are sad creatures to have minds that can sense patterns in the least obvious of places, recognize future potential that can be manifested in the present, and a whole other assortment of beautiful things, only to have that wasted in a universe that continually tries to tear our work down. We don’t belong here at all; nothing in the universe exists naturally for the benefit humans, and so humans are forced to create things to make our existence just a little bit less miserable. We exist only to find ways to fight against the universe that hates us, it seems, whether that be through mass consumption of material goods, technology, music, or simply ignoring it completely like the Buddhists do.

We hunger and thirst, we are constantly uncomfortable in some way or another, happiness is fleeting while pain lasts for prolonged periods of time, perhaps even indefinitely. You really start to wonder “why even bother?” at times. If you’ve never thought that, I don’t think you’re really living. I envy you; being a walking corpse is surely a preferable alternative to thinking and thinking and thinking constantly. Brooding. Dangerous brooding.

misogyny – anxiety


Things have not gotten better since I started this blog; on the contrary, they’re far worse. For one, I have become misogynistic to the point that I simply hate women. I can’t stand the sight of them with their fake smiles and I despise the way they manipulate everyone around them into getting what they want. The moment I’m not funny anymore, or I don’t want to pay for dates this month because I’d like to buy something for myself, or I want to spend time with old friends, suddenly I have to be punished. You’ll leave without telling me where you’re going, start sitting next to other guys in class, ghost my texts, and then when I try to talk to you about it you look at me like I’m unreasonable and say “Huh?” And then you laugh that disgusting, fake laugh and you say “I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad! I’m sorry, honey.”

Do you think I’m an idiot? Of course you do, what am I saying? I’m sure most women think men are idiots, and perhaps they’re not wrong. Men are idiots for putting up with this. Men are idiots for actually loving girls as the thing that they are; we love the inherent beauty of a woman, it’s enough for us that she simply be there and love us back, but even this seems to be asking too much now. There’s always an extra condition that needs to be met first.


And so, as an alternative to women, I turn to virtual reality and anime. I ordered a sex doll so that I can at least have something female to show affection to that won’t resent me. I’ve almost stopped watching porn with real women in it and have turned exclusively to yuri and futanari. I get upset and angry when someone makes fun of the genre or tries to shove some other cringe shit like yaoi into the conversation. And I know how ridiculous that is. I’m upset and brooding over porn. I realize how much time I waste thinking about it when I could me making music or studying code and cyber security, and I become even more upset. “Something is wrong with me”. That’s what I think, every day.


suicide – backwards


I just wish people would disappear, to be honest.

Some people think, like I used to think, “well, you don’t really mean that, though. You’d be awfully lonely with no one else around.” You would think that. And yet I feel more alone around other people than I do by myself.

What you have to understand is that the crazy rambling on this page isn’t how I present  in the real world. Not at all; I’m a walking lie. I have friends. I have skills. People like me. But I don’t like people. They talk to me and I just think about how much I don’t want to be there, and how much I don’t care about the conversation. It’s a horrible feeling. And if it’s a horrible feeling, then surely I must have empathy, surely I must care at least a little bit. So why do I feel so uncomfortable around people who supposedly like me? I just want to be alone. When I’m alone again, I feel relived, at least at first. Then I begin to brood.

I don’t want to do something I’ll regret.

I should call a therapist, but I don’t have that kind of money. I should talk to my parents, but the last time I did that they told me I’m an adult now and to pay for it. Jesus, that’s a whole other can of worms. My siblings were never treated this way. Why is it that people who are already healthy are given everything while those with mental issues are shunned and told to help themselves?

The world is so backwards.


Dream 15 – 12/15/17 – 7:45AM

I did not write down any dreams after Dream 14 until I began this WordPress account and was prompted to do so again. I’ve only written 4 down since then so far. I have made a point of including more detail when writing these dreams since the literature on dreams presented by experts like Jung as well as Kabbalistic tradition suggest that verbalizing this can be useful in understanding what your subconscious is contending with.

I remember I was leaving my workplace and walking across the field I usually cross on my way home. It was snowing and the ground everywhere was covered in white, and the sky was overcast.

As I was walking, a truck swerved in front of me and stopped. Milo Yiannopoulos stepped out, smoking a cigarette. He was wearing blue shades despite the weather and said something like “it’s a fine day. How are you doing?” and I replied “I’m good”. I remember thinking I felt like I was in a movie and wanted to act cool and ignore Milo, offering only short, curt replies.

I can’t recall what all was said, only that he eventually insinuated something homosexual and I said no, I’m not interested. He then said something like “I want to show you something” and I said “Fine, but if I don’t like it, I’ll ignore it” (not exactly, something like that). With a sort of disgusted look on his face, he turned and slowly walked away, I assumed back to the truck to get the “something.”

I remember it was sunny as he was leaving, and I remember thinking I wanted to leave quickly before he came back. I was now on the next part of my walk home after the field, on a sidewalk alongside a relatively busy street (it was not busy in the dream). As I was walking down the sidewalk, I passed close to a woman in sweats who was listening to music on an MP3 player and I realized I was also wearing earbuds, but I can’t remember hearing any music.

It’s hard to describe where I ended up next. I walked down an incline, then the sidewalk and street curved up and sort of merged into these stairs which led into a kind of city square, or an old-school market place like you might find downtown in urban US cities.

At that point, I remember seeing the shadow of the woman I’d passed earlier, thinking she was catching up to me. I tried walking a bit faster to stay ahead, but as I took the stairs two at a time, I watched her jog up the left side briskly and she passed me. I remember thinking it felt like a race, glancing at her to see how she was reacting to me, but she was just looking straight ahead. I never saw her face, but I think she had short, red hair (the color may be wrong, but I know it was shoulder-length).

I lost focus on her and she sort of disappeared as I shifted my attention to 3 women who were looking at something in the market. I can’t remember what they were saying, only that one of them was complaining and looked disgusted. I remember she sort of stepped back while she was talking and got in my way, so I had to maneuver around her to pass, but she did not acknowledge me at all.

I passed into a small room with a low ceiling and wood floors, and along the edges of the room were maybe 4-6 statues of women engaging in sexual intercourse with other women. I remember each statue was comprised of two women exactly, their bodies tangled up in various ways, all touching or licking each other. There was a voice in the background (I think it was female) like a narrator, though I can’t remember what she was saying. I feel it was something about the statues.

After this, I don’t remember anything else and I woke up.


Dream 14 – ??? – 7:47AM

[No date written, probably 2015] 7:47 AM

I remember I was talking with my mom and H (ex-girlfriend) about a house they (we?) had repainted. It was my old house on D Dr. My mom explained that the upstairs was painted dark while the main floor was all bright colors. I remember getting the two mixed up for some reason. She then said that, because of this, people were less likely to hang out in the living room. My brother K said that made no sense, but my mom and H ignored him.

I can’t recall exactly what happened after that, but I ended up in my old room upstairs, and my mom and dad were in there with me. They were going to have me sing something and I was coming up with new lyrics to a familiar tune I can’t now recall. The lyrics were about “E” and “4”. I remember it being about how I loved “E” and something about loving it in different ways for each of the four seasons.

Because I am sick, I remember in the dream having trouble even half-singing without a lot of pain. I told my dad I hated singing and it was really embarrassing. He said “I know, that’s why we’re doing it” in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. I didn’t end up singing in the end because my dad was confused about a phone for some reason. The phone looked like a phone from my workplace. My mom explained that a wire was in the wrong place and my dad said “But it’s always been like this, hasn’t it?” I woke up as they were discussing this.


Why I Don’t Support the Online “LGBT Community”

I am lucky to live in a State where, for the most part, you can still have a civil discussion about current political issues with someone who may disagree with you, but who doesn’t hate you prior to the beginning of the conversation. Even so, I’d be a fool not to acknowledge that the social landscape of the West has changed pretty drastically from what I remember, with some fondness, about 10 years ago. As a kid, I’d never come across such terms as “SJW” or “Pro-LGBT” or “Skeptic”. Words like “conservative” or “liberal” weren’t thrown around with malice as if they were some sort of disgusting creature to be loathed rather than simply a way for one to categorize their major (and uncontroversial) beliefs under a label for others to understand.

So when I eventually gained an understanding that there were “gay” people, beyond the confines of the ludicrous amounts of lesbian porn I consumed as a wee lad, my reaction was:

*Shrug* Ok, cool.

If that was everyone’s reaction, I don’t imagine we’d have a problem. If you’re a part of the online “Pro-LGBT community” and are nodding your head at the sentiment just before you run off to attack the “hetero-normative” society with your superfluous keyboard autism, I must discourage you in the strongest possible manner. Because I’ve quite lost patience with this sort of behavior.

The lyrics from the Nine Inch Nails song “Hand That Feeds” come to mind:

What if this whole crusade’s
A charade
And behind it all there’s a price to be paid
For the blood
On which we dine
Justified in the name of the holy and the divine

Just how deep do you believe?
Will you bite the hand that feeds?
Will you chew until it bleeds?
Can you get up off your knees?
Are you brave enough to see?
Do you want to change it?”

The song was written in 2005, well enough before all of the “Pro-LGBT community” nonsense got out of hand, but it rings true more than ever today. What exactly do you think you’re accomplishing by attacking the people who are supposed to be on your side? One moment you’re clamoring on about everyone getting along and living together peacefully, the next you’re tweeting “death to heteros!” or “Wow, I hate heterosexual people so much.”

I want you to ask yourself an honest question: Are you part of the “LGBT Community” because you actually want to change something, or is it because you want to justify your hate towards certain people under the guise of acceptance; the “holy and the divine“? And if you want to change something, what exactly are you looking to change that is not inspired by resentment towards other people? Would you be brave enough to say something if it was the unpopular opinion? “Just how deep do you believe?”

I’m not sure if you realize this, but the VAST majority of people are fine with homosexuals. I guarantee that if you weren’t looking for it (probably on the Internet, no less, rather than in the real world) you would find homophobia far less often than I come across people who immediately judge my character because I enjoy wearing black clothing. Homophobia is not exactly an “in” thing, in case you haven’t noticed.

I think there used to be a valid reason for the existence of an “LGBT movement”, and at the time I think the movement accomplished some good and productive things, but this was before the Internet became as prevalent as it is today. Anymore, a lot of my exposure to the “LGBT community” is online, and it’s extremely negative. It’s a scary idea, but I’m forced to wonder whether the current situation is that A) The pervasiveness of the Internet has brought a lot of people with differing ideas out of the woodwork who are fragmenting their communities and poorly representing them or B) The anonymity of the Internet has brought out peoples’ true colors.

In any case, with the way things have progressed, I can now say the following unequivocally and in the harshest possible terms: I consider the “LGBT community” and the online movement behind it absurd, exclusive, hateful, and most importantly, counter-productive.

I’m a prime example of that last point. My reaction to hearing that someone is an “LGBT” person has gradually shifted from the “Ok, cool” reaction to “I’d rather not talk to that person because they probably hate me“. I don’t know about you, but for me it’s kind of depressing to be hated before I’ve even had a chance to talk to someone, and it’s absolutely infuriating when someone like that turns around and tells me to support and love them. Why the hell would I support a community that tweets and writes articles about my own demise based on who I am at birth?

Furthermore, let it be known that one does not normalize something by making it into a special, exclusionary group. But of course, normalizing is not the reason the group exists; I will let you figure that out for yourself.

And I’ll just end this by saying that I, like most of the normal, functioning human beings on earth, am FINE with the existence of any and all people. In particular, those I’ve met in real life have been quite normal, as one would expect from an individual human being who isn’t boxed in and labeled as something. I do think, if you’re not a hateful person, but are involved in a community that prides itself (no pun intended) on hating others, you should reconsider.

Also, Yuri master race ❤

Yuri Dom


Dream 12 + 13

4/24/2015 – 6:30 AM

I woke up and immediately forgot a couple of specific details about the dream as I was trying to remember it. I think it was short, but even still I only remember the end.

I was hopping around like Samus from Metroid Prime. I was able to use her Scan ability.

I cannot recall the context, but before waking up, a voice said something about someone or something using magic called “Mabeon.”

An image of the Mask of Truth from The Legend of Zelda was the last thing I saw before waking up.

4/25/2015 – 8:20 AM

I was experiencing a character other than myself in 3rd person, almost like watching a movie. It was an anime character.

He was trying to save some people’s lives, and he seemed fervent about needing to run in order to do so. I remember Kanbaru Suruga from the Monogatari Series showed up and told him (me?) that she could help.

Something about Friday or Saturday was mentioned and I woke up.