During last night’s work shift, I snuck the last remaining shroom into my system during lunch break (in the hopes that doing so would lower my social anxiety and that it would make my thoughts more interesting). I have been eating a lot of food every day for several months now; too much in fact. All that food in my stomach diluted the potency of the shroom (and I think I subconsciously overate on purpose for that reason; out of a fear of losing control of myself)). I think my stressed out mind is finally starting to calm down now that it is starting to get used to having a job after being unemployed and completely dependent on my mom for financial support for the past three years.

(The last job I had before taking that three-year hiatus was assembly line work at the nearby Tesla factory in Fremont (and I worked night shifts there five days per week for approximately 12 hours per shift). I quit after about a month of working there because I eventually concluded that any shift which is regularly longer than 8 hours is too long because it affords me too little free time on work days. Back when I worked at Tesla, I did not know that I would be able to work in a warehouse setting for no more than 8 hours per day consistently. This year I saw many jobs listed on Indeed dot Com which were in warehouse settings with 8 hour shifts five days per week and a paycheck issued weekly rather than once every two weeks. That is my new personal standard for what a non-technical job “should” be. I think it is healthy to consider what I do during the day to be a second job (and the one which the first job is a means to). That second job primarily amounts to studying science, technology, mathematics, engineering, philosophy, and art).

After last night’s work shift, I jubilantly walked to a “secret” concrete nook I have been sleeping in within a quarter mile of where I work. The morning sunlight illuminated the spacious industrial park and the shrooms lingering in my bloodstream intensified the color saturation beautifully. I felt youthful and engaged in my life which is starting to flow like a stream of melted glacier water.

At approximately 1PM I got up, put my sleeping bag away in my backpack, and walked approximately 20 minutes to the nearby shopping center and ordered a vegetarian hot sandwich, an orange scone, and a large coffee at the Panera Bread restaurant. I have since been alternating between sitting outside in the relatively secluded courtyard and inside the restaurant while making these notes.

It is hard for me to focus whenever I sit down in this cafe because there always seems to be women talking in antagonistic falsetto baby-talking voices right next to me and seemingly in order to make me feel infantilized, deprived of privacy, stripped of my affluence, and too irritated to sit down. I was about to get up to move my stuff from the table I am currently sitting at to the table on the east side of this room but saw that someone else was using the electrical outlets there (and I am trying to charge my laptop to capacity before I leave this restaurant). I turned around and saw that the group of women which I thought was making those annoying sounds was not there. When I put my headphones on and listen to noise generators, I hear what seems to be the police interjecting a specific type of antagonistic sound effects which I will describe in the next paragraph.

“Excuse ho”, “Excuse whore”, “Binge ho”, “All about the face”, and a multi-layered track of some young, catty woman giggling cheerlessly and cooing insults at me about how I deserve to be mistreated because I am apparently too self-absorbed (and too upwardly mobile and high-brow rather than content to settle for having my thoughts replaced by someone else’s trash talk). “No one wants to talk to you,” “You’re too skoozy to go out with anyone but your mom”, “You’re only allowed to look after yourself,” “Get over yourself”, and, whenever I feel a tinge more excitement than a straitjacketed impersonation of the Mona Lisa, “Calm down!” I am trying to beat this game; the game in which the literal Thought Police barage me with distracting bullying noises (especially whenever I seem to be either thinking “too much” or else having thoughts which are “too serious” or “too esoteric”). I was hoping that, after being exposed to that stimulus for a while, I would simply develop a tolerance for that noise such that hearing it would not be so distracting and upsetting for me. Unfortunately, my tolerance for such noise (which feels like mind rape to me) has only marginally increased.

Rather than sit in the cafe and battle it out with these voices (while not having as good of a time as I think I would be having without such noise), I think it is better to default to using my laptop outside (where the birds, sky, stars, trees, and mountains feel more palpable). On my next paycheck I am definitely going to buy myself at least one camping battery (with an AC outlet on it so that I can charge my laptop battery at least one time to capacity without access to a wall outlet).

I think I might go back to where I hid my weed stash (and glass bong and lighter) in a bag and smoke some weed after I publish this journal entry. My laptop battery is currently at 80%.

On second thought, I see and feel the weather becoming less winter-like and more summer-like (which makes me want a bicycle more than usual). Last week I almost bought a bicycle from Walmart until I saw how flimsy those bikes were. I figure that it will take me at least four weeks to save up enough money to buy a Specialized bicycle from Cyclepath in Hayward for approximately $800. That means that I would need to put at least $200 of every paycheck I earn until then into a special savings fund just for my new bicycle.

I am sitting in the cafe and noticing that there are some Indian people on their laptops. That is nice to see. It seems like it has been years since I have seen techies hanging out in public cafes like this (because such establishments were closed down partially or wholly during the peak of the COVID-19 pandemic which started in early 2020 and seems to have ended some time in 2022 (though I still see many people wearing face masks)).

By the way, I found some good sound generators to play simultaneously which do a fairly good job immersing me in a “private” bubble of sound (but, of course, that nagging, whimpering, anxiety-inducing, conflict-mongering, anti-intellectual, crass, depressing bitch simulator interjects itself into whatever soundscape I create). (Yesterday I calmed myself down somewhat by imagining me grabbing that skanky whore bitch by the hair and throwing her into a pit where there are hungry lions and watching her getting violently and slowly ripped apart and murdered by those lions (and that’s after writing myself a note about wanting to unconditionally practice the Hippocratic Oath to “do no harm”)).

sound_generator_0: https://mynoise.net/NoiseMachines/windSeaRainNoiseGenerator.php

sound_generator_1: https://mynoise.net/NoiseMachines/whiteNoiseGenerator.php

sound_generator_2: https://mynoise.net/NoiseMachines/medievalVillageSoundscapeGenerator.php

“You’re just mad because you procrastinated so much on your homework assignments,” I told myself while slightly impersonating my bullies (but while trying to make those bullies seem like they have some actual utilitarian value for me instead of just being extra adversities to deal with and to lose time, money, and health over). This is a tricky situation because I really would not say that I have procrastinated much (if at all) during the past few years. I bet that the Thought Police would say, “You’re welcome,” in a snarky way and that I would not have been able to get anything productive done without being bullied into good behavior by the Thought Police. I do not condone using psychological nor physical torture as a means to control someone’s behavior, but I think a lot of civilians would (because they seem to think that someone like me should be forced to suffer so that those other people do not have to feel envious of me smiling and being more self indulgent than they would allow themselves to be). I refuse to be less self-indulgent merely to appease the simpletons who resign themselves to having little more than their homes and social cliques to tend to outside of work. What I mean to say is that such people lack hobbies which engage their intellect, imagination, and sense of wonder, enthusiasm, creativity, and critical thinking skills. Just because other people are mentally (and physically) dilapidated does not mean that I should have to be (and those who insist I ought to “humble” myself more by renouncing what I think is most worth living for, then those people can join The Bitch in the lion’s mauling pit).

Am I so violent as I describe? That is up to YOU to decide! I will no longer try to convince you what I am like and what I will do and what I care about. I will just shut up about such things and let the people clamor on as they will. Spew whatever garbage you want to about me. If you spew garbage, I assume it is because you inhale nothing but garbage (because “Garbage In; Garbage Out”). Otherwise, you would have higher quality things to express than vague ad hominem attacks, taunts, and attention-seeking monkey noises.

I am onto my third cup of coffee and am starting to feel a giddy, joyful, and pleasant “buzz” as the calories and caffeine permeate my bloodstream and fill my cells with energy. The sun has recently set and the world outside of this cozy restaurant is growing darker and colder. It’s hard to go back out into that environment after settling into my cozy nook in what feels like the university library. My mind-body is rekindling the memories of what it was like to be a regularly inhabitant of such settings. Unfortunately, getting to California State University East Bay where that library is located is laborious and time-consuming without a car (but perhaps a bicycle would make the trip seem worthwhile). Like I said earlier, I am probably best off doing the following: first ordering exactly one camping battery while putting $100 away in savings (for a bike) and using the remaining $200 to rent a motel room for two nights, secondly doing the same thing next week, and then, after accumulating at least $800 in my bike fund, going to my favorite bicycle store to buy my favorite brand and model of bicycle. Then I will have the complete “karbytes on wheels” kit.

As engrossing as it is at times to think about how I am going to allocate my future earnings, it does gross me out to make so much of my enjoyment and sense of worthwhileness in life depend on the acquisition and preservation of material assets which money can buy. Then again, there does not seem to be much of a satisfying alternative. I am much less stressed out now that I work to earn money so that I can buy the things I like than having to beg and plead for people to either give me such things or else to give me the money to buy such things. The former is what I think is most essential about being an adult in a capitalist democracy. The latter is one of the worst aspects of being a child: not allowed to own nor acquire property by one’s own merit, but instead, only through association to people granted more legal rights than what you presently have (as a hostage of some appointed legal guardian who seems to have absolute power to dictate what you do with your time, attention, and material assets to the extent that you might as well be a puppet until you turn 18 years old and actually emancipate yourself from being financially dependent on someone other than yourself (or the government)).

Tip: if you are a minor human (i.e. less than 18 years old or otherwise placed into someone else’s custody as that person’s legal dependent), I recommend that you use the computers at a public or school library to keep a blog in which you use anonymous names only (to protect your identity while you are still being treated as someone else’s chattel instead of your own property) so that you have a head start at getting your career and personal goals established. Having a cloud-based repository in which to express your thoughts and to preserve your favorite memes, songs, articles, hyperlinks, source code, and other pieces of digital media is like building your own personal assistant and home on the Internet. This might a well be the only property you have any semblance of real control and ownership over. Once you turn 18 (or become emancipated from your captor), you are safe to use your legal name if you prefer to (because at that point only you are at fault if something bad happens to you (which means that no one but you has to pay the consequences of your actions)). Note that social media is a poor substitute for having a personal anonymous blog because social networks tend to censor users for sharing “politically incorrect” or otherwise controversial content (because social media is typically designed for maintaining one’s interpersonal relationships with friends, family, and coworkers more than for having in-depth and open-ended adult-level conversations about non-superficial subject matter). By contrast, a WordPress website (which is free) lets you have almost total control over your website content and style. (I strongly recommend backing up each page or your website to the WayBack Machine whenever you make significant updates. That way, if some asshole hacks your WordPress account and ruins your website, you can at least retrieve the saved copies of your web pages by using your website address to lookup your saves in the WayBack Machine database).

I was recently reminded of a simple animation application which I built as part of a homework assignment which I did while taking a class at California State University (in Hayward) on Object Oriented Programming using the Java programming language. My professor said that it looked like a piece of fine art! My Java program drew a pine mountain scene at night with a glowing orange cottage next to a pumpkin patch beneath a starry sky whose stars are randomly plotted each time the program is run. So far, the only programming languages which are featured on my primary website (i.e. Karlina Object dot WordPress dot Com) are C++ and JavaScript. I think I might as well move onto focusing on Java after I finish the JavaScript assignment which is still in progress (and a bit “basic” for my level). I have been “procrastinating” on that babyish JavaScript assignment which creates an interactive web page which enables the user to input the values it wants to build an array of colored tiles out of (and then the program outputs a series of random selections (either with replacement or without replacement) for some finite number of selections in order to visually AND mathematically illustrate basic probability). I just need to get that one PROBABILITY assignment done with so that I can credit myself as having some mastery over the very important topic of probability (which is essential if I want to study quantum mechanics, artificial intelligence, and neuroscience on a deeper level). Over the next few decades, I look forward to my primary website expanding to become a treasure trove of some of the world’s most succinct and relevant information pertaining to the logically deducing what reality is made of and how reality operates.

This web page was last updated on 31_JANUARY_2023. The content displayed on this web page is licensed as PUBLIC_DOMAIN intellectual property.