KARBYTES_JOURNAL_2022_ENTRY_411
While riding the BART train from the East Dublin BART station to the Fruitvale BART station, I overheard two guys (seemingly coworkers) talking nonstop about things which, when I turned my attention away from for a few seconds, sounded like them noticing my shift in attention focus and briefly saying some comment about my personal business (which made me feel that I was being listened to and prevented from having too much privacy and, therefore, free will during that train ride because what was on my mind constantly was my desire to text and then call AJP about inviting him to do shrooms which me (which I was on my way to buy in Oakland) to celebrate his birthday (and, without me saying it explicitly to his face, that I missed his company and fondly obsess over him and desire for him and I to be best friends for life and to be able to physically hang out together and share our nerdy and weird aspects with)). I texted AJP, “Hey, was wondering if you wanted to do some shrooms with me tonight. I don’t have much, but I think we’d each get at least a gram.” Shortly after exiting the Fruitvale train station, I called AJP and he actually picked up the phone and seemed to be in a pleasant mood and happy to hear from me (because he even went so far as to ask me where I was and to tell me some of the details about my day (but perhaps that had to do with the fact that he was not apparently involved in something super stressful at that moment)). He said he still felt sick and was not up to hanging out with anyone tonight and asked if he could call me later. (I am not sure what the time interval length of that wait period would be or even if it is a finite length). I was happy to be able to talk to what I would call my best friend (and the human being I have been most fascinated in, intrigued by, and desiring to be (very) close friends with to that I have ever known).
As I walked through the streets, I noticed how much of the graffiti seemed “pissed off”; the product of poor inner city dwellers. I also saw a sign at a street corner saying that someone’s neighbor was killed by a car which struck them at that location in May 2022. I walked past various murals and homeless encampments (mostly trailers and some tents) next to the BART train tracks and nearby San Francisco Bay shoreline approximately a quarter mile away from that squalor strewn realm. I could not help but critically (and perhaps flippantly) read some of the murals with words in them talking about how water is sacred to life and how people have been able to live without love but not without water. (I was arguing with some invisible straw man of a sheltered, shy, and underachieving white male and feeling compelled by brute force of law enforcement (perhaps) to take his side and to say racist, elitist, and filibuster-y things which covered up how much I ache inside for a solid place to call home, intimate companionship, and the means to fully immerse myself in the technology sector instead of mechanical/industrial/logistics or else people-oriented jobs. What seems to make this journal entry possible more than any other factor is the fact that I have been allowed to discretely camp in Dublin in a spot which is relatively far away from car traffic and people and which is close enough to the military base and police training center to hear the nightly shooting practice take place and where many wild turkeys come to roost. My tent is set up right now and I am sitting in it. The tent gives me a sense of privacy and a (mostly) effective means to get out of the rain and cold (though the tent still tends to leak during rain storms and the walls are thin and flimsy and there is mesh which allows fresh air from the outside to get in such that the “room” is basically the same as the temperature outside of it and such that there is zero blocking of noises from “outside” of this “room” (and some people may say that I am living “outside” and not “inside” even though I consider the tent to be a minimalist form of housing. Perhaps the fact that I do not pay rent to live in a tent makes it seem like an illegitimate housing option and that is why some people are quite hostile to me and threatening to displace me, deny me employment, or otherwise disenfranchise me (but some or all of what I just said could be construed as imaginary as part of a game I play with myself to motivate myself to not fall depressed and stagnant rather than enterprising and always learning, innovating, and otherwise being proactive))).
(My ability to write and to build an aesthetically pleasing website comforts me. I basically consider my truest sense of home and identity to be web based. That might be hard for some people to understand and maybe some people even are opposed to me placing so much of my sense of meaning in life (and sense of direction, identity, culture, and survival) on the WordPress websites, social media accounts, and other web based accounts where I feel I spend a significant portion of my life actually being immersed in. I am afraid that those who do not understand or who do not approve of my priorities and worldview as a “digital nomad” are okay with me being deprived of my web presence and ability to interact with the World Wide Web (and to be part of the tech world) and that those people think that, if I were cut off from the world of tech, I would be forced to take a more humble position serving humanity on their terms. Such people seem to think that I do not deserve to enjoy this much free time and to have this much freedom of to practice this fine art of eclectic web based journaling because such an enterprise is “selfish”, “elitist”, and not exactly making “social justice issues” and “family” the center of my life. Bare in mind that I spew a lot of verbal vomit which I think is bullshit in order to help bring more interesting thoughts to the surface which may be buried under all that bullshit-y junk).
I bought two grams of “ghost penis envy” mushrooms for $32 and one gram of “golden teacher” mushrooms for $8 (and I consumed all the “golden teacher” mushrooms while walking back to the BART station in Oakland and am still high on it). I will continue to allow the mushrooms to do their work inside my nervous system while I dwell in my tent in silence for a while. Either tonight or tomorrow I intend to resume working on the C++ linked list assignment I assigned myself (and the final deliverable product is a completed green web page featuring a C++ programming tutorial featuring source code, program output, compile/execution instructions, and a brief conceptual introduction).
Anyway, I am about to “fade into the night” (but not necessarily go to sleep). I feel obliged to make more of an effort to talk about myself less (and to minimize how much I comment on things) and to, instead, spend more of my time quietly working on the projects I have assigned. I think I will have more worthwhile things to talk about if I work on my academics more and put an end to discussing “identity politics” and other stuff I consider to be relatively frivolous (but necessary) “fluff” which has taken up a lot of this website thus far.
This web page was last updated on 02_DECEMBER_2022. The content displayed on this web page is licensed as PUBLIC_DOMAIN intellectual property.
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