Such a long time not writing, and now I’m suddenly emerging into the universe of Visionarium, the place where you really don’t want to be when the world turns into the entropic ruin of chaos, a fundamental breakdown into its component parts, particles, matter and not matter all compiled into a huge inferno. It explodes, and in a way, it’s unbelievable. Almost momentarily mystical, but I better keep from writing about mystical experiences, especially since I’ve been in continuous, only partially interrupted discussions with another human being whose name I don’t remember, about recognizing the subjective experience of mysticism without making scientific claims, which seems to be a major problem for mystics. In fact, the more they get into the profession, the more standardized things have a tendency to become, and suddenly you hear things like ‘energy fields’ and ‘quantum leaps’ in the context of consciousness. That makes me have my own fundamental breakdown, everything gets very black for some reason, and I have tunnel vision and am only capable of seeing some white light in the edge of my vision field, and then suddenly a bunch of strange monkey-like elphs doing a strange, by no meens of systematic patterns consisting dance around me, and throwing books at me with titles like: “The art of mystifying mysticism”, “The science of your very own extremely powerful negative vibrations”, and “What do you have left when you know the answer to every fucking thing you ask because you don’t want to accept the limits of your perception?”. That’s how my entropic ruin looks. The point where things culminate in chaos, where you don’t know your way around the world, because you’re lost in analysis paralysis, then your brain takes in obscure information, and out comes introspection gone terribly, terribly wrong. And yet, I lay my heart open to the benign indifference of the universe, not by acting defiantly as Albert Camus suggests, but by laughing with all the hysteria I can. What else can you do? In 7 billion more years, maybe some descendants of mine exist in a computer simulated world, being very polite and doing extreme face threatening speech acts, on record without redressive action, just because they don’t have a physical presence. They only have whatever else there’s left when you subtract material presence, which is something that some people call consciousness. I’ll prefer to call it material presence 101 in lack of better terminology. And for all the psychiatrists who, in case they read this, wonder what the hell is wrong with me, don’t bother. Nothing is wrong unless you think you know what’s right, so as long as you don’t confine yourself to see a spectral dichotomy, well, then it’s easy. What I suspect might be wrong with me is that I’m too indifferent to care, and at the same time I actually have this feeling that I want to care, at least about conventional implicatures and why they’re so awesome. It isn’t depression, it isn’t defiance, it’s just … well, it’s it. It’s whatever I want it to be, apparently. Most of all, it’s lack of terms for whatever it is that I can call whatever I want at whatever time I want it to be called anything at all, that is, if I ever want to call it whatever I want it to be called at any time I want it to be called anything at all, if I ever want it to be called something. Hey, let’s make a word for it so it becomes easier to conceptualize. Let’s call it mhitrhixoid, and yes, I put the H there on purpose. But seriously, I sware to the great leader of North Korea that I’m not in danger, unless someone starts giving this entry an allegorical analysis. Then I can’t imagine the consequences, so please spare me. I might just insert a passage about a rhino, because RHINO symbolizes the state you’re in when you can’t get the kind of tomatos you wanted in the supermarket, and that’s why the majority of people’s lives go wrong. Well, or someone just happens to mention rhinos because that particular someone doesn’t care to be cooperative. Have fun enjoying indifference, and remember to laugh a little now and then. In all seriousness, I certainly don’t see any other reasonable points to life than that.