if only I could multiply myself by a million, pick someone, and make faces everywhere he goes. I don't need to say anything or make any arguments, just keep making faces, and eventually it will have to break his confidence, whatever that confidence is in relation to. this summer will be a replica of last summer, at the end of which I'll convince him he's guilty of something terrible which he's not guilty of, only to later admit that I was full of shit all along.

I try to avoid being around them - because everyone is the same. often I have no choice and, hm, I am reminded that everyone is the same.

land of the bizarre: denial is dissent, truth is conformity. you put yourself at the centre of that which you are the centre of, and you lose sight of what it is. you do nothing, and you fade.

they had an overwhelming obsession with involving themselves in his thoughts. they did it at any cost. (and denied it).

when they police everything I do around the clock, I often get so caught up in the fact that I'm living like this to see their self-deprecating humour. obviously our 'society' is acting in complete contradiction to everything it claims to be about, so their hypocrisy is obviously intentional. I must now learn to become more respectful of their privacy.

the assholazoids are everywhere. the assholazoids are everyone.

what does everyone have in common?
they are all the same.

when the lemmings take on human form, it makes me think that when they are being assholes, it's for completely different reasons than why they are being assholes. that is problematic because, when they tell me how to run my life, while acting like lemmings, and looking like humans, I don't know what to make of it.

we are all the same, every last one of us, it's true. Sorry for taking on the appearance of humans, it only aggravates the fact that we are all the same.

yes, the herd is rejecting you, over and over again. it doesn't matter that that's all it's ever done, this is one of those things you should be paying attention to.

They do not know how to not involve themselves in his life. Whatever he does - there they are in the middle of it. It is inconceivable for him to do anything without them in it. It is not the kind of involvement that would include not being shunned by the totality. It is the kind of involvement that's called - try to do something, and we'll forcefeed it to you. You want to have a friend? We'll shove so many people down your throat till you'll never want to see people again. You want recognition? We'll put you in a police state where you are watched and monitored around the clock. You want to be left alone? The totality of the entirety of everything will shun you. They have molded themselves into him and don't know how to peel off. He makes a joke - there they are to remind him that humour is not allowed: they violate this civil right or that, so that he is forced to stop with the humour, because it's kind of shitty when an entire society violates and rapes the fuck out of you on a daily basis for years, leaves no one to turn to because everyone is the same, tortures and degrades him and - arbitrarily arrests him every so often. Can't go on the street for the shamings and mobbings, can't communicate for the shunnings and abusings, can't be left alone for the rapings and policings, can't complain because everyone is deaf, indifferent, cold, and hopelessly the same.

Big Brother is watching you
-1984

I like pancakes
-Inland empire

x = oppressed. xs = simulacra of oppressed made into oppressor + the totality of all oppressors. x really doesn't have it so bad, except he can't leave the house or stay in the house without being swarmed and raped. he is sometimes too hard on xs, who feels no pain and does not exist. xs makes faces made to exploit x's every thought. now xs is using its absolute might to contradict the very truth it itself pointed to, because it does not like what x is thinking. xs is everywhere and perfectly synchronized. xs has a 'tell': they all do the same thing. The are all part of the same team. They say the same things, they act the same way, they seem to be playing the same game, they participate in the same eternally recurring phases of x's life. All signs point to: xs are not individuals. But they say they're individuals, and they make faces. Dilemma.

The Show's in town. I'm on the bus. The show is people. They're the show.