An insane wave of pleasure flew over me. I’m so far away. I’m so far away from those people. I was a believer of Love. I think it’s out of fear. To reject things like hate. To catch the thoughts that would pop up in my head, and expunge them. Remove them quickly. I couldn’t do that in Los Angeles. Perhaps it’s the withdraws. Perhaps it’s the city itself - it repelled me. I felt revolted at each street corner. Each sidewalk. Stained with blackened gum. Stained with apathy. Great buildings of old, gleaming architecture build from huge large beige stones. Or Marble. Spray painted over, dirty, used, thrown away. The whole city felt like the a city abandoned and retaken by a mirage created by some demon. It seemed to be a fake city. As if, the residents - 8 out of 10 were not human. They were placed there, by the usurpers. Some demonic entity swallowing up the city. The 2 out of 10. They seem to love it. To turn the blind eye. To feel superior to the trash. The fat. Oozing at the seams. The poor. The crazy. The vagrants. The damn fags. You’re not relaxed there. You’re tense. Alert. Awake. I’m so far away now - 20,000 feet in the sky. Above the clouds. It’s so blue. So White. They don’t bother you in first class. They leave you alone. You skip the lines. It’s nice. Above and below. A brighter white than you can imagine. It’s beautiful here. I can feel my soul healing. My sanity coming back. My willpower increasing. I don’t know if I could make it there. It would be like fighting a tsunami. It would be a long road. A road I have no intention of taking. I can’t express it enough - the vibrations in the air there. Damn. It’s not poisonous, or deadly. It feels like God is farther away there. Yes. God. The natural order of the world is not there. The sequence is all wrong. The layers are all mixed up. The signal is jammed. It’s not even the good sins. Miami at least had envy. People think it’s lust. There’s no lust in Miami. It’s deeply unsexy. There is no sex appeal in Miami. It’s disgusting. But. There is envy. And at least, I understand that. At least, there is something to play around with there. In Los Angeles. I don’t even think the Devil would enjoy it there. I think, the Devil just inverts things. There is order. Reversed. In Los Angeles. It’s all mixed up. What kind of fucked up do you need to be to enjoy that. I think, they’re ignorant. Or stuck in their ways. It felt like once the city, or whatever it is over there - once it grips you. You can never leave. I don’t ever want to go back. I can’t end the first chapter like that. What a fool I would have to be to do that. You see - if that was my greatest fear, that would be the cliffhanger. The foreshadowing. The detail within to say - that is where this story will go. That is where we will find the answer. But no. I don’t fear it. I just don’t like it. I think it is much better to talk about beautiful things. I wonder. If I will be able to do that. I wonder. If that is what I’m even interested in. Can I walk the line? Or would walking the line be out of fear. In writing this, I have discovered, I know some things. Very little of these things are of myself. I want something To catch My Eye.

saw the billionaire gets caught with $140 prostitution sting (it’s me)

It’s all horeshoe, all the way down. or up. hyper-detached or painfully passionate you either watch reality unfold behind the window or feel it all, just too much. middle is fked.

Chip on shoulder fuked childhood kid vs studious elite both make it (middle is fucked) bc chipped kid has high mental tolerance and studious kid has resources. Reality is, you can always make it, there’s always a solution, but the middle doesn’t have drive, resources, or mental.

The hero is anti-memetic. It's subjective truth to reconcile continuing on journey and die without reaching the end or call it off to take rewards from the expedition to settle down. You can choose to die on the mountain. More beauty in the leopard at the tops of Mt. Kilimanjaro.

I don’t believe a definition of desire can be complete in memetic terms As there is nuance The common form of desire we’re familiar with is the transformative desire, repeated in writing and sayings - the grass is greener, you don’t know until its gone, lonely at the top, etc But There is desire that survives its own satiation, survives its terminal value this desire can be described as, self expression achieving it, reaffirms it It can be small. Winning a game of chess, eating a steak, you cooked. These do not make you feel hollow, but rather, further increases the satisfaction of the desire. Other-times, you feel guilt or regret over food choices, overeating, binge eating, splurging. This, it turns out, was memetic. It was engineered desire, social, meta-physical or (I believe there is a meta-physical desire, that is virtuous) a non-virtuous metaphysical desire that expires upon reaching its terminal value, and transforms into a negative feeling. The size of this desire is correlated to the transformative nature of it. Regret of murder achieved through revenge, etc.

Desire exists in two forms. The first desire does not survive its own satiation. It transforms upon reaching terminal value. This desire is not a genuine value, but rooted in social-metaphysical pressures. To achieve this, the ending is ultimately hollow.

Its natural to cope & seethe at losing status, wealth, social positioning, competitive interpersonal challenge, by an ever-improving, doesn’t sleep, perpetual machine. Accelerationism (a fundamental good) cannibalizing industry will make some people unhappy. It is beautiful & sad