KARBYTES_JOURNAL_2023_ENTRY_355
At this moment I am in my bedroom at my dad’s house and the car I have been borrowing is parked on the 4th floor of the East Dublin BART parking garage. It’s approximately 8:30PM now. The curtains of this room have been drawn shut and I see the daylight fading into night through the holes in the window coverings. My clothes and sleeping bag is being washed in the washing machine in this house right now. I feel embarrassed for my previous journal entry because it seems too trashy for this chapter (and I was hoping to make this chapter devoid of trashy components). I don’t even like the term “patriarchy”. No I do not believe that there are more politically conservative than politically liberal people in Castro Valley (and I especially don’t seriously believe most if any women in this town were banned from getting an education nor were forced to get married, have sexual intercourse, or have a baby). While outside from the moment I woke up after not sleeping well for what seems like the fourth night in a row (because my circadian rhythm seems to still be set for graveyard shift employment at least five days per week), I felt more aggressively targeted by the sonic harassment from law enforcement more than usual. I was afraid that I was and still am being tortured into staying indoors as a means to punish me for past transgressions or for simply being too iconoclastic and so that other people can most easily forget that I exist (because the open sky is like a big all-seeing eye populated with millions if not billions of surveillance drones, satellites, and sensors which collect and route data such as human visible light, infrared light which enables the machines to see what my body is doing through otherwise opaque walls, and whatever spectrum of radio (or whatever other frequency of electromagnetic waves) which seems to be simultaneously broadcasting my brain activity outside of my skull as output (relative to me) and manifesting as injected subjective phenomena as input (relative to me). Despite having worked hard on this journaling website for almost two years (if not longer) almost no human has provided thoughtful feedback to me about my website (even though I have requested it and complained about it in many of the journal entries in that website). At this time the voices which are being interjected into my thought stream are just as intrusive and abrasive to me as they were earlier today. Hence, I have no sense of refuge while I perceive everyone else in this town as having a reliable means of escape from the kinds of torment which only I seem to be exposed to and which only I seem to be seriously opposed to. That is why I am generally angry at other people. I think they are comfortable with me feeling horrifically violated and maimed and deprived of what I think are basic human rights. I cannot help but come to the dreadful conclusion that the people around me condone rape, torture, maiming, and much more retribution and coercion than what I would condone. That’s why I denigrated the people around me as being “dumbed down”. It could be that those people are terrorized into conformist thought and action and have Stockholm Syndrome to the mind rapist police state whereas I generally don’t (because I go to extremes to think outside the box and to keep my mind from deteriorating into an artificially stunted mechanistic drone compared to what it would be if left entirely to my dictates). What is particularly disturbing to me is how almost every person in my midst condones my brain being so dogmatically interfered with and subject to cruelty (which seems unnecessarily sadistic instead of rehabilitative). When I try to deploy simple relaxation techniques such as mindful breathing, logical problem solving, and kind thoughts, I get thwarted by the thought police who seem to want to reshape my personality and priorities to be something I don’t like and don’t want to be brainwashed into liking. I am afraid that the people in my life would rather me be forced to appear okay to other people at gunpoint (metaphorically at least) while feeling horribly violated and in excruciating agony than me not appearing to be oblivious to my own sensibilities and experiences (because the people in my life seem to condone being inconvenienced as little as possible even if the cost would be seriously inconvenient to me). I bet that if someone “more important” than me was subject to even a fraction of the bullying I deal with, those people would get lots of media attention and concerned and empathic responses from many other people. Perhaps if I was more interested in conforming to heterosexual cisgendered female norms I would be treated as having significantly more worth (because what seems to be the most important aspect of society is sexual reproduction and raising a family in a well-run household with plenty of economic and social support from the surrounding community). I do feel that some people want to covertly bully me in order to make me leave and never come back (and perhaps live on the streets and in homeless shelters or as some kind of human trafficking victim). As long as that cede shit doesn’t happen in this area, it is okay if it happens elsewhere. I am villainously selfish for merely calling attention to such unsavory matters. I’m sorry to spoil the Very Important People’s nice family dinners and movie nights. I’m sorry to rain on Your parades. I’ll try not to burden you with my “private” suffering ever again. Instead, I’ll try to be more like what the thought police want: humble, calm, conscientious, accommodating, grateful, good humored, and not a burden. Well, that’s it for what I hope is karbytes’ final mentioning of politically incorrect subject matter. Have a wonderful Friday evening and an enjoyable weekend. May nothing get between You and having a good time.
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