Never been one to let the carrier drop

So, I can’t remember if I discussed in a previous post my working definition of evil. Understanding that it should be possible to give anyone any experience they would ever want to have in simulation, without needing any fancy VR gear – just needing the proper configuration set up on their mind – evil would, in my view, be the people who would not be satisfied with the *simulation* of control over other people or hurting other people, but who would want the experience in which other people are actually being hurt – and people who don’t want to be hurt, even though this gains them nothing but the idea that someone else is being hurt.

It’s probably too sophisticated a definition.. I mean, it certainly isn’t something that you can define quickly.. but it forms a working map for what, when I find in myself, I will root out and remove, mercilessly. It’s a special type of stupidity that I don’t think should exist. Not just cruelty, but cruelty that insists that the target of the cruelty be someone who doesn’t want to experience pain.

Now, we all know that it’s possible you could end up with a ideal universe just by matching up the masochists with the sadists. I haven’t heard any reasonable provisions for doing this, which is yet another argument in favor of the universe not currently being run by a intelligent designer. If we needed another argument for that. Of course, it’s possible that the universe *is* and my *experience* of it isn’t, see previous discussions on the topic. Which is just one of a number of reasons why rooting out evil in my own mind seems like a worthy goal.

So, I’m still working Angel through the process. Still haven’t managed to get vox tracked for it.

What if I’ve got it inverted.. what if you are in love with me? And don’t know it? It certainly was a long time before I knew I was in love with you…

So, I don’t really know who did what. There’s no way to know. For all I know, I did all this to myself. If you all want it to be my fault, that’s fine with me. I just want it to stop hurting, and want shrinks to stop fixing me-for-other-people at the cost of hurting me-for-me, which is real popular.

$person, it’s not like you’d suddenly start talking to me if I was 100% complient. So I’m not even going to try. I’m going to try, instead, to scale my psych meds to give me the best system performance, and to give me manias timed for when I can take vacation time from my day job, and to make sure I lock out access from the internet and go far away from cars and the like. Basically, make them safe for the rest of the world.

In other words, fuck y’all, I’m living for me. You all want me to live for you instead, you’re going to have to convince me there’s a reason to want to.

Jonathan Pullen
10323 Wallingford Ave N.
Seattle, WA 98133

949-357-5701
skype: sheer_panic
email: jonathanpullen@gmail.com

As my friend Mei would say, stalk me!

That $person_who_wants_to_hurt_me[0] is reading my blog and cackling with glee that she succeeded so thoroughly, or that she doesn’t even know, nor care, the amount of pain and fear and havoc she created. I wonder if all the sea turtles she rescued make up for this. I wonder if she *thinks* they do.

So, I’ve probably talked about this one before, but maybe writing more about it will help me refine my ideas on it still more.

At this point, I do not think the 3D reality I’m wandering around in is a accurate representation of the data coming in at the edge (wherever NNN space owned by me meets NNN space owned by others). In particular, I think that because of my paranoia, what I’m seeing is a mix of real data being thrown across the wall (“reflected light” of the real people out there) and my fears. I have no easy way to confirm how much is internal/imaginal and how much is external/real. I don’t think any of us actually know that, I think it may well be a unknowable. But I think my paranoia has met confirmation bias. I no longer know if the cops are in my head or in the world, for example.

I know I’m damaged. I hope the people at the edge are receiving this message, and understand that I need help to clear away the neurological filters that are making it impossible for me to see people as they truly are and instead see what I’m most afraid of. At this point I’m convinced confirmation bias is probably more my enemy than my friend. I just don’t know what to do with it.

As far as I’m concerned, we have paranoia. That’s our disease. Dissassociative Identity is part of how we protect ourselves from the people who gave it to us. It’s a feature, not a bug. Bipolar is part of how we cure ourselves. It’s a winning answer. It’s possible at some point me and Sheer will reintegrate to be a single personality. I’m not sure exactly what that would be like. People treating us for bipolar or DID are quite simply confused about the nature of reality, or are selfish and not concerned with our needs.

I’m still in here too. I never died. I never stopped wanting to dance, or wanting to be alive. Me and Sheer are friends. We work together. You might say it’s like we’re the left and right paws of the dog.

TSIA.