Thursday, May 30, 2019

DAY 10000 !

May 30, 2019 

1 0 0 0 0 th  Day of my life .

I realize some things never change . People talk a lot about growing, but I realize certain part of my psyche will never grow again. "Alter", but grow, really. I'm made. I can accept it. I can accept that I will never change.

10000th day regardless of calendar. 10000 days and nights. Thank you, God and Mom.

I believe in destiny. I have been consistent in the past 10000 days. I don't know what future holds. 10000 days is a lot. It's a long time. It feels whole already, but I am not finished yet.

It surprises me that the 10000th day cements my old belief instead of abolishing it. I suddenly understand why old people are stubborn. Many if not all are unable to change. Nothing will affect me as much as those of my childhood, no matter how grand the new things are in objectivity. Objectivity ceases to impact Subjectivity. Is that a problem?

I don't exactly feel sorry. I don't necessarily want to change my belief. I want to change... but not change myself.

. . .

Monday, May 27, 2019

Day 9998


It's Day 9998. I've been living in this world for 9998 days. This week- Week 1428- will see my 10000th day on this planet. What does it mean?

What have I done? - you thought "what have I accomplished", but what have I done? Truly. I ask myself.

I am grateful for these 10000 days. I really am.

I have no other words, but I must talk.

Diary... it's Day 9998.

Almost 10000 days of torment... struggling in a dark place most would describe as hell. I have no happy memory. Whatever elation I felt at the moment was painted black in my memory. Every joy is fleeting and every pain is lasting forever and ever and ever.

Yet I'm gaining ground. Yes, Diary. I'm still swaying violently day after day, but the core of my belief is strengthened. I may very well be clinging onto a bias at this point, but I'm doing everything I can to make that bias- my belief- as close to truth as possible. I know my way of thinking will help me obtain the whole truth, just as I have obtained some pieces of truth. Tiny, small pieces, but they're all I have.

I have so little, Diary.

I have obtained so little in these 10000 days.

I don't have much at all.

Life felt fast all of a sudden. I strive so hard to live in the abstract, but in the end I'm bogged down by minuscule details of reality that I can't escape. Will I? I let certain dated fantasy occupy my mind. It's really wrong.

I'm actually angry, Diary- at myself, of course, and also a lot of other things. Nothing has ever assuaged my raging disappointment in nearly all 10000 days on earth. My only hope is in the abstract and the unknown. The more I learn, the less I... I don't know how to put it. Do you know what kind of life it is- to put all your hope and faith in the unknown? You can only hope the unknown is the promised land, but with every bit getting explored you find what's waiting for you is disappointment after disappointment, again . . .

Like I said. There is so much ugly in the world; there are so many mistakes. Mistakes, mistakes everywhere. Look, there is a mistake. That is a mistake also.

I want to cry but I have no tears. This despair is so usual. This despair has become a part of me. I'll never get rid of it.

You don't understand. No one understands. Even you- Diary, even you don't understand! I want to be amazed! I want to be stunned! I want to look up to someone! This may sound arrogant, but such person doesn't exist. Such phenomenon doesn't exist! I will perpetually worship the dead and the unknown! Why? Why? Why? It is too cruel .

I'm too lonely- only I willingly elect it. I'm fine with one way communication with the dead and the unknown. I'm not happy about it. I will never be happy about it. It's not fair that I bring awe to people and none of them returns any to me. I've been underwhelmed enough times. That is why I'm alone. Remember when I didn't have time to surpass others- when we were all 6- I had plenty of fun. I'm a very social person, like I said. I can think of no  place other than Paris. Of course I'll find no such person in Paris, but I'll be wandering in the Louvre like a living ghost, I'll exchange- no- like we said, one way communication- I'll be expressing my thoughts silently to the works of the dead, and when I'm anywhere else, I'll ponder. I'll just think endlessly. I'll suffer in nightmares. I'll wake up in despair. But at least in Paris I'm surrounded by works of the excellent dead.

What a life it is. Yet I'm still a saint. I'll still gift people. I'll still hold on to hope- it's basically free for me, because it does not make a difference whatsoever. I'll be over the moon if any bit of hope pays off, since my expectation could not sink any lower.

When we approach the best machines in precision of thinking and measuring- we'll be closer to the truth. The uncovering of truth is the work of many. They're able, but not talented. They're industrious, but not awesome. They're excellent machines but not excellent humans.

Me- I'm nothing. I'm in the abstract. I do not enjoy, I only suffer for now. One day I'll suffer no more. What is it to me? I only wish to know.

Tuesday, May 21, 2019


But i don't regret trying to understand others. I only regret trying to find a middle ground which I now know is impossible with everyone.

Fundamentally different interests


I'm sobering up to the fact that different strata of people have fundamentally different interests. It sounds simple but I really only became sure of it now .

And still, I believe it's also true that there is no easy  way to separate people by their interests. I'm not talking about economic strata or political strata or whatever, I don't even know what it is. It's not the usual "classes". I wish I knew, but the only thing I now know is there are strata. I really don't know what defines them. I just know so clearly that there are overwhelmingly similar people who are into certain things, and I'm not them. I know what I like and what I don't like. I know there are definitely people out there who like what I like. I can't make peace with the fact that there are so few of them. I really am not confident that I can make more people to be like me.

The vast majority of people do seem unreal and totally unrelatable, Diary . Just impossibly unrelatable. I truly feel like I've perhaps wasted a ton of time trying to see from others' perspectives when our fundamental interests are different. It's impossible that all humanity is striving toward the same goal. I now know it's impossible. I never believed the preaching of love but I once believed in "humanity", something that's inside of all of us- I was so wrong. Crimes aside, there is no level where all people can reach, there is no common ground among all people. There is none. People must be different. People must have different interests. I identified with the wrong group. It makes sense that people oppose me. I was at the wrong place speaking to the wrong people. I ventured into the wrong territory. Not all new territories are right territories- some new territories are wrong territories, and I should've realized that sooner.

​My interest is fundamentally different from them. I shouldn't even be thinking how to somehow "transform" others. It's not going to happen. Someone closer to them- someone who knows how to speak to them will one day do it- it's not my place & it's not my job.

There is nothing to be done .

Time to move on .

Thursday, May 16, 2019

What the fuck did you do to my hair

Awful style atm. Will age better.

 It might be ok .  I love having short hair . It finally feels like my energy is not being pulled away now .

 I'm generally better than earlier this week .

Wednesday, May 15, 2019

- Worse yet

 - Is turning on your own principles.

  I will never betray my past self. I stand by 100% of decisions I've made. I trust myself and God .

 - I'm OK now .

I feel very sick .

If this is prelude to Death, fine, I welcome it. If not, I rather would like to have this pass as soon as possible .

 My cooking is absolutely toxic. I should cook even less- at little as possible .

 Anyhow. What I failed to mention yesterday was of all people, Kamala Harris had appeared in my dream. I don't know her and I care very little about her policies, so I have no idea why she's in my dream. Anyway, she said some kind words to me as I got off the airplane then "kindly" told me California was not accepting a single immigrant no more. So I hijacked a car and drove recklessly and got into a vivid car accident. I emerged from the wreck almost waking up from this nightmare, but I didn't. What followed was worse. Anyhow I just want you to know the whole thing was beyond the worst nightmare I'd ever had at that point. It was God awful. Not that I plan to ever move to California or the US for that matter, the betrayal and other stuff of that dream was like a disease.

 Now I become ill again, so very ill, Diary . 

 I anguished for years- years and years which camp I belong. I finally made my decision. My belief is being shaken again. I hate it, I can't stand it. It's manifesting as real illness with real sickness. I feel so sick. I don't want to have made the wrong decision. I hate it. I never knew going against fate was so hard.

 I have always thought that- my belief has always been that- one should strive despite one's circumstances, not because of it. I will not cave in to the "Given", but even I can't see past the "hypocrisy" - if that- which is when the circumstance suits me, I call it fate and embrace it. Is it possible to accept some of fate and reject other parts of it?

 I am so ill and so unwell. I hate to be wrong so much. I'm obsessed with eventualities- eventualities that I have no control over and can't foresee. Why? Maybe I do have a little bit of control, but it doesn't feel like it. Why is the uncertainty of the grand picture, of the big, distant eventualities making me so ill?

 I'm about to pass out, Diary .

Core Conflict of interest -

Is Proof of Dualism .

Sunday, May 12, 2019


Diary, I already know what future holds. I know it's going to be bleak. I already know I will be unhappy in Paris. I know some of the exact things I will complain about. There are too many people in Louvre & they don't appreciate the art. Not that they don't understand it - I don't even know if I understand it - but I appreciate it, unlike them. Being a resident and despising the tourists, yet no one can tell the difference - or can they - it doesn't matter.

 I'll go to some event and come back and drown in my usual immeasurable depth of despair, thinking bitterly what a waste of time it was and how I wasn't able to find one single interesting angle. I will come to realize that just like in any metropolis, be it New York or London or whatever, there are still too many people. The 1% of the 1% of the 1% - are too few. The odds are too low.

 They're nowhere. Everyone else is a waste of time. I literally thought I'd accepted it last year, but I've failed to do what I was determined to do. It's just too impossible for me to overlook space and time, Diary. I am here, I am now. The few are here, the few are now. Can I- should I abandon it all or keep scrambling like some fool? I feel like you know.

 It's not a good feeling, though I feel it rather regularly - being a fool . I've got some of my answers, Diary, but still more to be found . Those people are part of the answer. I've asked the same questions for too long . It is no doubt a fault- an incompetence on my part, and I have to work on that instead of running away from it all.

 Imagine catching a cold at this hour .

  I feel like - you can only do your best .

 I feel like - Fate has no sympathy .

 I feel like - I've never gotten over or gotten past my childhood .

 I feel like - I've never changed .

 I wonder what my initial bias is. I wonder what was my first absolute subjective opinion .

 It is hard to appreciate the world sometimes. All the art you love must not all express that same sentiment. Yet the picture that is not yours- it must feel distant and strange enough to be looking forward to.

Saturday, May 11, 2019


a week... a month for me, a lifetime for many others. for some, it counts.


I almost gave it up yesterday and let it lapse, but it turns out I truly love this name. I'm keeping it .

I finally understood yet another part of the big picture. I understood a little bit better about myself, too. My identity is in line... but I see a conflict that is inevitable. So this does not give me too much relief.

Why would I want to forget about burning in hellfire?

You put One person in hellfire.

Have I left ?

What is left ?

Which is left ?

Where is left ?

Is there a left ?

Hell is supposed to be nice and warm, so I must not be there yet.

I never once thought about heaven. It sounds too fake to be true . Even in a make-belief story .

Sunday, May 5, 2019

Worse year

 It was not this cold this time of the year last year . I remember now .

 It's pretty bad now. I'm freezing . Why ? Oh , of course , but also .

 It's pretty bad, Diary .

 I can hardly put up this dogshit music. No music is sad enough .

 This fatigue is real. I fucked up - I mean - tweaked enough games . I can't even touch my old favorites anymore, and no new games captured my interest. I can't fathom how or why anyone would enjoy them. Games are supposed to be this great thing. You can experiment great concepts and rules with it. They don't no more .

 It's pretty cagey. It's all pretty cagey .

 It was proper summer this time last year. Now it feels like November again .

 I guess this is how it's supposed to . . .

 I'm swaying... swaying... and swaying between these two ideas, but it's time to stop. There is no holding on to hope .  I must concede that it is what it is . As much I hope I'm wrong, I wasn't... I'm not. I don't consider it a betrayal, if my allegiance was not willfully given in the first place. I had no choice, but now I do. Now I have choices. I choose. I take back the allegiance that was arrogantly and cruelly assumed of, and I choose who I give it to . It's a great feeling .

 So, what I'm saying is, Diary .  Listen .  Observe .

 Do the anti-intuitive thing . Do the right thing . Do .

How do you look at predictability

Does it make life less fun & more safe ? Can you actually derive from it that insecurity makes life more fun - of course not. Two entirely separate issues .  It's only about predictability .

Yes, from all my experience absolutely, it does make life less fun and absolutely, yes, it does provide at least a sense of security .