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/psy/ - psychology and psychonautics

dreams. drgs. altered states of consciousness.

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Help me fix this shit.

Kalyx ######

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I enjoyed reading these threads on .org so why not contribute to .jp
10 min just stream of words. You can edit spelling/punctuation in post.

Listening to music. I think the only thing I can be good at is killing. I am joining the military. I don't know what I will do after. I just need to get out of this life. I don't know what I will do after maybe join one of the assassination networks using my military experience. It is not like the movies. They don't show what it looks like and I am scared guys. Always scared. I am sound mind though. Not just "sound mind" I don't know. I am not lonely but I am alone. I am thankful for a thread like this. Big league killer. I wanted to be a fireman when I was little. I don't know what changed. I have always been a person of extremes, Lawful good chaotic evil. That is corny soykaf. I don't take myself seriously and neither should you. But this is what I want to do. I hope I fail. I made a post before on .org.

I received some good advice but I will not join the kurds or any other group like that. If you are going to fight why not the best? Kek. Back up plans all over A-Z. I am so scared in the life I live though. I wake up with my sights on my bedroom door. Only thing I have is my cactus plant. I have you guys. Cyberpunk war now. Cyberpunk war now. Fuck you all. I'm so scared. I am no coward though. Someone has to do it. I have no political no other religious. Fucking jihad cunts. I am thankful I am able to type this and talk to someone. I may die in the military which is all the same. I just want to know how good of a killer I really am working with the big dogs. I am going to monitor the thread and I am gone. I will be back after I am done. I hope it is all OK. All love lain.


I never liked this type of threads, they feel like the posters need some company but I'm not sure and it could be that the only way to know is to try it out myself, by writing this stuff knowing that I don't like to "talk my guts out" because it implies egotistically (or, even better, Narcissistically (I don't know how to write that word)) that the reader listener cares about my guts. Then again, what can I say without just being meta and writing about me writing? I don't want to opine about anything, why would you care. I don't want to talk about how miserable I am, nor about how great I am, or anything. Still, I don't care about OP's military idealization but I still read what he wrote. He thinks that he'd be joining the "big dogs" but he'll find that they're just as fucked up as he is, maybe in different ways that led them to succumb to the media+entertainment perception of the military being a way to tough-up, harden-up, man-up, or whatever the fuck-up. It's so basic, more X doesn't fix the problems that derive of X, in OP's case X=violence, he'd surely be shaken off his mind by meeting the right person, facing the right ideas, arriving to the right (semi)conclusions, and he knows it, maybe he wants personal security and wants to meet the right wrong person to plant him on his mind instead of shaking him off it. Two minutes left, I thought that I could write pages worth of text in that much time but they go on faster than I thought. Two minutes to midnight, we oil the jaws of the war machine and feed it with our babies. Time's up? How could I… two minutes for just that last sentence, time's weird.


Whimple wham wffale
Corn chips in bean dip.
Maple leaves come tumbling down.
No more mr nice guy. No more mr. clean
Sleeping in a pile of filth. It is not that dirty just did laundry.
Snapple is the white mans drink. Shilling is an art form.
9/11 was a real life reenactment of a double jenga game.
King of the hill is the cyb as fuck. Fucking cottonchan.
50 men. coo coo cahchoo. William is the source. Forgive me Jacob. I don't have much time but know I will never forget you. Peridot is best gem of course. Second only to Lapis. All others are pajeet tier. Get the soykaf sifters for the specks of gold.


sigh, another fucking day. Wat is this soykaf, the words as retarded as it comes now.

We have people derezzed from joining the military? Oh Noes? Not the military that bastion of Socialist thinking. fuck me, derezzed for a reason too, should they let in anyone with a chronic condition just as long as they can manage it with medication? What a crock.

What happened to the old thread anyway, there was an older one of this thread, but i cant find it, I know I was being elitist, but wth?

I may be offered a new job that I don't want, I'm not good enough for it, but here I am under a lot of pressure to accept it by several people. I feel like soykaf, everyone supportive but, I'm not good enough.

Plus I like my job, its relaxing in a stupid way, I know I always wanted the new job, but, maybe its not worth it… It reminds be back when I served, the tings I did back then, the things I regret, the people…. People don't understand why I react so angry to being pressured, but I regret so much I did under pressure.

Sure, it saved lives, people needed to go, but they weren't a threat to us. Thank god I never went to the sandpit.

I miss those days though, The world so much easier, but it seems I am getting dragged back in, once a soldier, always a soldier….

I should get back to work.


There's already a thread like this: >>>/cult/468


so all of my friends are coming up with these grand schemes to ditch this small little country town and to 'make it' in their respective fields of interest around the world; they're all pretty serious about it and starting to make real headway and yet I'm still sat here trying to figure out what the hell I'm doing with my life, i keep telling myself I'm staying here for my career, but i feel as though that's an excuse i tell myself because i can't do what I really want to do because of my stupid fucking meatship of a body and the short straws I drew in life. another part of me says that I could be taking my career further if I fucking put my foot down and stopped letting myself be guilt-tripped into hanging around for meagre dollars by my current bosses. i keep thinking to myself; maybe i could go solo and make more bank but then you need money to launch your own business and then while it always seems greener on the other side there's the very real possibility that the perfect conditions i need for my success depended on the resources available where i currently am.

so i'm torn between disappearing into the sticks and just skipping out on everyone, staying around town and being a sucker thinking that things are going to get better/more interesting, and between going out on a limb and moving interstate which I really don't want to do. but then there's this major part of me that wants to get the fuck out of the industry i'm in currently and do something… more with my life. thing is I don't even know what the fuck that is and even if I did the genetic fuarking timebomb i'm sitting on gives me a very narrow window of opportunity.

i guess that's the problem with figuring out what you want to do with your life far too far into the damn thing; i should have made this choice a decade ago.


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just wrote one in .org. im fine thinking they are two different expression of the same life. the wired.

im not doing 10 minutes.

i always thought this was like some sort of freeform jazz. you get to do whatever you want to and someone in the end wil clap. wirte down anything, sure you can, live down from what your parents did and you will never guess what was wrong and what was right. this is hard, this is a demanding task. im proud of you and everybody trying it out, people die without writing a single word, without saying a single i love you, without caressing a leg, hugging an old friend, paying for dinner and asking "whos up for coffee?". people die in regret, hoping wishing they would have done all those things they wanted to.

but we should regret everything still, for doing it all is impossible. is it possible to do everything? im gonna pretend i did, and when my day comes to meet my maker, if there is one, im gonna say at least i did that chick or at least i travelled the world or at least i read the ulysses or something like that, thinking everything else was outside my reach. try to do everything and you'll die, but try to do nothing and you'll surely live sad. a sunday a day of fun of sleeping until late of feeling comfy watching the rain fall down on sick sick minds worlds out of tone pulse agoras of light and love, an oracle of seasons, ages and songs. cream and taste and yoghurt and spies, filling all emptiness like im not going to die, today or next week, tomorrow or after this


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Okay let's do this !

I'm very bad with words so bear with me.

Wahhh I don't even know what to write about… Let's start with how I've been doing lately. I'm just as suicidal as I was before, but somehow I'm more calm about it, if that makes any sense. Before my train of thought was "Oh no everybody hates me! I will never find friends, let alone a partner!!! I'm so unlikeable and disgusting, no one even bothers being nice to me.Gross gross gross…. I am so gross no one can help staring at me when I'm walking down the street." Blah blah histerically sobbing.

But now… I'm so calm about this all. Nothing matters anymore. People are very shallow creatures. It's just the way it is. Life is boring. Meaningless. You go to school, get hired, work a 9-5 job, maybe get married only to divorce a few years later, get old and watch tv til you die. It's just the way it is. Nothing out of the ordinary ever happens, and if it does, it's usually something bad. Tired, tired, tired, routine, boredom, disappointment, loneliness. I just want to sink in an infinite black void. No consciousness, no thoughts of my own, nothing. Absolutely nothing. I cannot wait to cease 'living'. Just, nothing. Eternal sleep.

I am sorry I was born looking so ugly. There is nothing I can do about it (by the time I'd earn enough money to afford plastic surgery, I'll be old anyway) and I am far too depressed and socially anxious and autistic to "win people over with my charm and personality".

It's not anyone's fault that they don't like me. Even I can't get myself to like me. And I'm me.

I have finally managed to get a gun. I'm killing myself tonight, just after I finish this bottle of vodka.


This comes at a time where i find myself at a crossroads, or rather an esplanade. Not knowing which way to move, which way to lay the next line, which way to dowse towards. it's the same story in repeating patters, always moving, always towards something. Sometimes the flow stops, there's backtracking or mistakes are made.
But anyway i would still like to give it a thought. to build something, a community of sorts, where these kind of seekers would aggregate. I don't know what to call us, or where to find more of us. It's the same mechanism that brings us together, the wandering, guided as if by a higher force.
But what is the form it would take? Chans are dead without an already existing community, and by its very nature, this one would not have anyone who would stay. Anyone who stays is a false member, is dead, stopped in its tracks. A place for wanderers then.
If there is no people that stay, then it's the content that does. Like places in the real world, it must withstand time. But what can withstand the passage of time on the internet these days? Decentralization is out of the question because of the flowing nature of the user-base, and permanent storage is out of the question because of the nature of legislation and the technology itself.
Perhaps the answer is not in programming, not in a website or a protocol. I must look somewhere else?

I don't know if it's been 10 minutes or what, buy I feel like I got what I came here for. Time to move on. Time to keep on wandering.


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Alright. Setting the timer for…!

Are thoughts different for everyone? Some people say they think in words, or voices, or whatever whatever whatever. I don't know. But when somebody says, "tree," it's not an image or a word or anything that pops into my mind—it's the idea of a tree! And I don't know how to describe that. What color is it? I don't know, it's just a tree. What language do you think in? Probably English, but overall they're just facts and pieces of information that ultimately don't have a language. It's just….pieces of information, swimming around in my head at very, very high speeds.

I think that I think very quickly. My mind jumps from here to there and there all with a snap of the fingers. Or a drop of a hat. Perhaps it's my quickly moving mind that makes people laugh when I talk. I'm told that I'm very insightful or witty. Sometimes I don't get told anything except for a roomful of laughter that I'm not sure is aimed at me or at my words, but I just stand there expressionless and motionless because it's a bit scary when you don't know the reasons why.

And not just for getting laughed at, but not knowing the reasons why in general. I like mathematics more than science. In math, you're a god. You get to make your own rules and discover your own things and do whatever you want, so long as you're not a hypocrite aka you follow the rules you make. Numbers are just things you can manipulate however you want, so long as you can follow the rules. And in math, problem solving is having a set of restrictions already made, and then you can play around in your sandbox, trying to see how far you can push those rules. How you can bypass them. How you can prove everything and anything, listing the reasons why.

But in science, it's different. You're just placed in a world you don't know anything about, and you need to figure out those rules. After eons and eons of watching and observing, you come up with a theory: "this is how the world operates." But you don't know if that's true. You don't know if it's false. You just know that it's been a pattern for that amount of time. And then you're always subject to not knowing.

In math, you know everything. Science is just a guessing game.

….and time! That was quite interesting.

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