I had a dream that made me ask: "Why have a dream of success?" Of course, I can brush it aside and forgot about that dream, but I do wonder, after all my learning and growth in rationality, moderation (or being moderate), and recognizing the substance of a moderate life, why I had a dream of success? Why did I have a dream where I was singing in this fancy place among fancy people and singing very well that it enraptured those people there. I find it contradictory and interesting because it feels like something I would have dreamt when I was younger. I was childish and adventurous in my demeanor, gait, and disposition in the dream, as if I had reverted to that younger self that just loved singing in front of a crowd. But here, I was matured in the sense that I was finding success, though I still felt it was entirely captured and the dream hinted that my journey was still ongoing, even if I have found much success in charming those fancy people with my singing. When I woke up, I then centered my argument about the dream upon the question: "Why have a dream of success?" When I woke up, I saw sobriety, moderation, and rationality all around, not necessarily in the people, but because of my perspective with regard to everything around me. My main interests are sober, rational, and moderate, as I do not speak of my musical instruments as if it would bring me success but as it is now as an improver of my skill set. I live in the sober (and possibly somber) moment. I read textbooks, study, and write. In the past, I viewed it the same way I was in the dream—childish and adventurous. But I see it now with a much more grounded quality. This goes for all my interests, and that concludes who I am today in contrast to who I was in the dream. Why have a dream of success? I direct that question toward the me that seemed to choose such a dream, this same me that lives in this sober life, sees my daily activities soberly, and acts in a sober manner. Why did all of that fall apart within the dream, as if it had all but been a disguise? But I am awake, and I am returned to this sober life. So I asked, "Why have a dream of success?" I mean, I guess it is learning that the demands of my current stage of my life has not been completely subsumed into my identity. I realize I have never been fully rational and sober so as to be unadventurous and not youthful. The recent 15-or-so days since my adjustment from having a computer to not having my computer due to the breakdown of its motherboard and having gotten sick simultaneously has taken a toll upon my psyche. I have moved to my mother's laptop only yesterday, and that has revealed to me the deficiencies that emerged as a result of this change, as my mental state has been constricted by the margins of a smartphone for the majority of the recent period of 15 days. The dream could be a reaction to this recent event.
would it be absurdism or surrealism? for the main character to be killed all of a sudden? his death is given symbolic, metaphorical value, while also being emphasized as largely peripheral The stories themselves can be pretty bizarre, and involve dream-like sequences, nonsensical languages, and symbolic imagery, all of which describe the psychology of the main characters. I saw this author, and for some reason, it seemed that he was building up toward something in each of those stories. But suddenly, he decided to kill them off so suddenly, some only seemingly at the beginning of their stories, only over 10 chapters long, the longest being 80+ chapters long. It is as if he never cared for them. It's interesting because it seems to be the author's style. This is clearly a pattern and a warning that his stories will involve the main characters' sudden deaths. He wrote 4 different stories, and they all died suddenly. I find it strange, but I also think it is interesting. It's interesting because the reader is forced to wonder when the main characters will die. Some main characters last 80+ chapters. Some main characters only last 10+ chapters. Some main characters last even longer. Some stories last hundreds of chapters because of the multiplicity of main characters, seemingly never ending. but he does not just kills them off. He ends the story with their deaths just like that. It as if everything built up to this point, and all of these hints of a world that did not respect grandiosity or symbolic gestures at all enough to sustain them forever.
Several dogs gathered at a community center. Each of them knew what would happen if they were allowed to fight each other. One of them would die. One would get injured. One would fall over and die from loss of blood. In this world, they had only to rely upon their rational senses. But they were dogs, so their instincts, however intelligent they seemed, broke out, and they were off on their paws, dashing and striking down each other like doves in a flurry. The night grew closer, but they were prepared to exit the assault any time. But they kept on pushing and using their teeth against each other, barely missing each other for the most part. But once those jaws became affixed upon flesh, there was no escape. But since the dogs were persistent and fighting independent from each other, they did not think to stop when one of them was already falling to another. Instead, they interrupted each other from finishing each other off, often ultimately relying on staving off their exhaustion as much as possible by fighting measuredly as much as they could while maintaining aggression and ferocity in their strikes. It was hard to maintain equilibrium. Sooner or later, one of them fell to the ground, too weak to stand. This marked the end of the three-way fight, indicating a new stage where two dogs fiercely fought each other to the death, without interruptions this time. They struck fiercely like two knives inside a drawer clanging in an earthquake. The time drew nigh, and eventually, one of them hit the ground. The other slowed down before observing their environment and undergoing reassessment. He was the victor, and what came next was up to him. However, before the dog could do any decision, a human was then emerged, and his form fully seen, and immediately, upon seeing the two dogs lying in what looked like death, struck the hitherto victorious dog and wiped it away here from the earth. It was here that victory bore less meaning than that guilt through which human-man, whose hands of warfare were well-known among the dogs, waged, as it was guilt that had led the man by the hand to the path down in the slaughter of the third dog. This had a quicker effect than if it was merely his hands that had struck the dog, as he had delivered so that it was final. It was then obvious that the dogs' bodies scattered like little baby bodies upon a burning landscape, and men of order who were lords over the land were not so easily pleased to see their own man-works be quietly destroyed before their eyes. Herein the world became emotionally flesh-like in its impact upon the mind of those who had made it their duty to oversee and hear the land. The human-men, who were the lords and the overseers aforementioned, and who were separate from the dog-killer, arrived at the spot upon which the dogs were proclaimed dead and buried by the man who slayed them. They were troubled, and they knew well that such actions lay more than merely a reorganization of the fauna that roamed the land, but it also prescribed a made-to-be-duly removal of what belonged to the integrity of the land. It was here that the human-man overseer became addicted to learning the manners in which a trespasser might be prescribed punishment of a satisfying level. The trespasser in this case was the dog-killer, who knew himself well that he might slay the beasts, who were the dogs, but who then showed, in his killing of them, an act of offense, herein belying his own social needs for harmony and disguising his guilt as a mere suggestion, when it was troublesome for him to stay quiet and to let the victor-dog remain here-present. The overseers were albeit hesitant, awaiting punishment and concerned by what ways it might arrive. That it might retain rationality and calmness and or bestow a properly satisfying end, that those who emotions have been betrayed are then given recompense in full, and that event in which the dog-killer had taken in haste may be returned to them in satisfying ceasation was an important clause for them. Then where was hesitation clearly spoken? Inside the thoughts of men, that damning hesitation to naught would destroy their allegiance to their orthodoxy was foreboding to them, like in dealings with regular rats, who, in their nature, sent their feet in a scurry-speed down the ladder to the food supply. But it was then revealed unto them that by the judgment of the law, it was then said that the dog-killer "had become a man-killer" through his own actions, and, by them, betrayal of the justices expected from an idle-man, and so he was sentenced to death. By the time it was rumored that he had death, those whose justice has been reclaimed were not quick to lend portions of the treasury to give the dog-bodies peace through a ceremony, but with the dogs' lives reclaimed through legal retribution, it was satisfied and made full.
I have never really created and managed a digital community, as they are often nucleated around a singular interest. I have a Roblox group that was created around 2012, and I am now 21 years old. I wonder if such a thing can undergo reforms so as to be given a charter by myself and structurally altered in order to cater group games coded by myself to awaiting participants and newer members. I can create an HTML that delineates the purpose, intentions, and brief history of the group and its objectives for the future. This can be made clear through the introduction of games. the issue is that it is largely abstract, and if any future help and participation will be obtained, it might not occur through mere group loyalty and participation but through shared interest in one of the games, which might have become self-contained and separately intriguing apart from the group itself. I wonder if such a virtual space can resemble more stable real-life structures which are enabled through a government and even royally given duopoly status such as the University of Cambridge and the University of Oxford. Developing such a community often rests upon its temporal nature and its more superficial interest in the games introduced and created, which then are contingent upon their capacity to gain players' interest. This reduces the group to a mere list of players who are interested enough to click a single button to join. I am not requesting exclusivity. I am requesting a more sophisticated, in-depth, and involved form of association, a group that recognizes its place within a larger digital sphere of games, but also provides its own unique place within the broader region of entities spread across Roblox. Removing its unseriousness and casualness will take comprehensive effort, and it will not be so easy to gain players that fit the qualifications. But even such a filter indicates that it is exclusionary in a sense, even if the intention is to secure the group's essence not as a mere list of players with shared interest but as a more in-depth virtual society or gathering aligning quasi-institutionally its members toward growth. In establishing the group, I will take inspiration from my own personal website, which comprises of my autobiography-journal, my fiction novels, my essays and articles, and other forms of non-fiction documentation.
It's like eating chicken so much to the point you merely eat it just because it's healthy. I can just imagine chicken and be satisfied with the memories of enjoying it. But I know it so well that it serves a mere functional purpose, that resembling my learning of legal terms. the only thing I can do is write down my reflections. But I have already been doing that as part of my learning. It's not that my reflections won't be fruitful or new whatsoever. But I write down my reflections fruitfully irrespective of studying textbooks. I'm more concerned about finding a way to study textbooks in a way that feels fulfilling on conceptual grounds.
I'm not even fricking surprised anymore. Reading textbooks just gives me words to describe things I already know at this point. It's crazy how my life is just that developed already that the things I come across in textbooks don't phase me anymore. It's just looking for ways to describe things I already know. Specialized stuff either get very detailed (like medical textbooks) or so specialized it becomes highly abstract. Either way, I feel that I am not even surprised by what I read anymore. Maybe that's a good thing. I don't know how to explain it. It's like I understand it so conceptually much that the only thing I'm getting out of it is learning the legal terms for certain set of concepts relevant to the field. I am learning terms, not concepts, at this point. It's literally just learning words for things I already know well. learning is not memorizing a bunch of terms, but I guess that's the only thing I can do at this point. Once concepts are so understood, it is only legal terms that can be reaped at this point. It's basically just understanding the definitions and concepts so well that the only thing left is learning the legal terms.
sounds like it can be summarized as "touch grass" is it saying to leave the theoretical abstraction to the academics or those interested in such as a hobby? Is it saying it should not be the everyday man's concern? So he's saying that it isn't for everyone and that most people are doing fine living a very on-hands practical- and present-oriented life? Isn't that discouraging and kind-of slightly elitist? Or am I reading too much into things? What if I do want to... oh wait nevermind so even as someone who studies textbooks, even he believes that practicality goes first rather than frameworks and theory? I guess he might have gotten used to being around textbooks so much he started thinking that people actually spend a lot of time reading them. Maybe he's saying this as a result of frequency heuristic. Maybe I'm psychoanalyzing rudely. But I'm guessing he's saying this for people who do find themselves concerned with learning but don't have the time? Or maybe people who feel excluded or lesser because they don't study all the time? I'm not exactly sure what audience he's gunning for, but I guess what he's saying makes sense.
I know it sounds like someone too highly attracted to technological bubbles, but I think we need to discard a lot of our older frameworks. It's clear that this newer generation and the sociocultural and technological environment in which they now stand will not so easily slide with the ideas established heretofore. It is only inevitably that older structures become obsolete with time. The structure of nations have changed drastically throughout the centuries, yet contemporaries in each and every one of those periods have decried the idea of sociocultural and technological change. Who are we to be blind to a history of inevitable structural changes which completely deface what was traditional in pursuit of what is now relevant to our modern times? I'm not necessarily requesting a revision of the past, but a recognition of how definitions have become broken again and again. The information age won't change that. In fact, it will likely accelerate such breaking down of definitions and frameworks with changing times. What happened throughout the centuries will now happen incredibly progressively fast. A single change may have transpired more visibly gradually in the past, but current changes now continue to employ more and more technology that even our very eyes are blind to the ever-shifting changes. If we want to see, we must see with eyes that do not belong to even "recent" times like the 2010s. We must see with eyes that recognize that the recent times have never existed. There is no such thing as far-gone past and recent times, and I am merely saying that emphatically. Instead, we must recognize that the only thing consistent throughout time is change that completely warps what was sensible and creates nonsense in the real. We are no longer the 1800s. Let us stop pretending. And we know that. But can we extend that even to the 1970s? Then we extend even more to the 2010s? We do not live in a time before the 2020s. We live in the 2020s. Things have happened very quickly in the past throughout the centuries. History was not slower, but surely enough, with the information age, things will be much visibly faster and more clearer to the everyday person. This means that we have to be very alert and very there, because FOMO is no longer a phenomenon used to describe a feeling, but an actual need for people to remain open to revisions and changes to Everything They've Ever Known. It is too late to lie down and revisit nostalgic sceneries even of digital places. We are now gone into a new age. What once made sense is now defaced in this new day. We have to move forward. And I am not saying to abandon psychologically everything for the sake of burnout and the "grind". I am referring to a broader societal recognition of what is now present and what will continue to be the all-consuming fire that change accelerated is. I've seen entrenched social structures be warped in a flash. The Qing Dynasty with their structural and definition reforms to satisfy and attempt to preclude what they knew to be their end with the revolution was a historical precedent of how everything that was sensible is now defaced so as to be nonsensical. The Qing Dynasty lasted so long, only to fall flat on its face like it was never there in the first place. Sure everything culminated, but will it be obvious? If even those in power cannot seem to understand what needs to happen for alignment with coming change, then what then of this world's stability. To adapt to change is to maintain stability. That has always been the case. We are centuries long in debt for a new structural change, and I'm emphasizing again that everything is culminative. I am ignoring a lot of other historical precedents and how everything is actually very gradual and procedural with viewed from a well-educated and comprehensive lens. But I am saying that even with the culminativeness, people have remained ignorant to culminations. The reason it is so easy to view history and see where people failed is because we are in the age post-them. We are surrounded by frameworks that survived them. They did not survive because either it was inevitable, their frameworks failed them, or just the word "change," "reform," and "adaptation." But we can now view them with the amassed frameworks which now see them as they are with much more clarity and comprehensiveness, not that our recent consciousness is so comprehensive so as to be incapable of misjudging itself, its current events, and future events, but more so that even us today cannot see what is coming, because we do not have the post-frameworks that we have of our present. We must touch the grass below us. Dwelling too much on thinking will rid us of ourselves, as thinking relies on what has been established. Oftentimes, the best way to understand the present is to rely on the surface level for most things. Delving too deep can stimulate thought that is very in-depth but not very practical. It's okay to do so as a hobby and as part of academic growth, but it is also crucial to remain surface-level and present-oriented. Dwelling too deep in depth will bureaucratize what should happen zip-quick. I have written all previous statements as someone who loves studying textbooks everyday and writing all the time. It is crucial to cut off the tree once it is already too old and grown, if it means that it disturbs the current realities people face, while still watching out for abuses that might occur if we rely too much on doing as one pleases at the time of need. It can be difficult, but frameworks have to be uprooted, while long-term thinking has to be preserved somewhat. A balance must be maintained, and checks and balances have to be continued. Forces against; more moderate, tolerant forces; and forces in favor have to be consistently symbiotic.
but why would he fear? Isn't it good to succeed? Why fear success? Why fear confidence and motivation? Why fear things that bring life and give energy to create? Won't this fear be self-destructive and self-inhibiting? The rationale behind this fear resembles the rationale behind such self-destruction in many others? so they need ways to feel that they're being brought down a notch to rid possible feelings of fakeness, being a imposter, fear of failure, imbalance, isolation, pressure, and identity loss? I think the author needs to find ways to be weak on purpose while not necessarily being self-destructive. For example, they can do things perceived as being lesser, even if those activities actually align with their goals of improvement.
On a site note, it's weird. Why do we do that? We don't want things to change, but the quiet moments of the past only gain importance because we strive hard for challenging goals. Scenes like the dog park remind me of quiet moments in my life when things were simpler and easier when I was younger and how going through challenging, thrilling, crazy things can make me miss them. But I realize now I would not read lots of stories if they were just the quiet moments. It's those crazy moments that make the quiet moments nostalgic. If my life was just quiet moment, I would not miss the quiet moments, because that would just be my everyday life. I mean, I do have quiet moments all the time, but because I have challenging goals, I always inevitably find myself shooting myself into space into the thrilling heights. Then I miss the quiet moments upon consummation with my goals. If it was all quiet moments, I would not miss them. Challenging moments is what makes those quiet moments pop out. It's interesting that the value of my past experiences lies in their ability to give me a sense of respite from the challenging experiences I've had recently. But if it wasn't for these challenges, I probably would then go out and look for challenges then. It never ends. I never am so comfortable with comfort. It always itches me the wrong way, and I never sit down in comfort, feeling comfortable. I find myself itchy for growth and for challenge and for struggle and for pain and for the feeling that I am helpless because that often precedes heavenly growth. I am so funny. It is that way. It is. I just... It's just funny. The past was a younger me, and I should be happy that I am now growing past all those weaker forms of myself. I am now growing, but it's funny. It is all too funny. I do look back with nostalgia. I do, and I cannot deny that. I use it to fuel me to learn more and more, because it provides me with scope and a sense of being grounded, allowing me to identity the exact distance I've travelled since then. I can see where I'm at, because I can look back to see where I was at. And then I can pinpoint my future trajectories. It never ends. It's incessant and unceasing—this realization. But it's very interesting... I just find it very interesting. I look back to 2011, and I cannot help it. I see so many new things, and it's not that things were better in the past. But hot damn do I find myself so irresistably estranged from my current self and all of this. I'm not necessarily estranged so as to need a doctor. I can handle things, and I can cope just fine. It's just that it's strange. It's all so strange. I look around, and I see things. I see people, beings, ideas, and all of these things that just won't leave. I am learning quickly and progressively fast. I am not stopping. Even if I stop, I move. I cannot stop myself from becoming myself and becoming so irresistably compelling in my wake. I move, and I create, even if I might declare that today will be a day of rest. I do rest. I have. I have rested for 15 days, and that was due to my computer breaking down and my concurrent sickness at the time, which only lasted several days. But since the computer remains broken, I have spent my time using my phone to rediscover media I have long forgotten because I have fallen in deep symbiosis with textbooks and writing, among other concurrent things. It is hard for me to pretend anymore. The sun goes down, and it goes up. Yet I am still there, my hands moving when my feet cannot; my feet moving when my hands cannot. I do not stop the move. Even though I have taken a break, the full-force power of my body and mind maintains congruence. I pursue my goals, moving forth, and that should be a declaratively motivated statement. But that is also me wondering when this will all end. I do not want it to end. I do not want to end so bitterly. I do not want to return to the past. I want to claim it as if it was divinely mine. I will write down, and I am writing it down. Things are getting easier, better, and progressively more rational, sensible, and within my grasp. I cannot stop my gains. I cannot stop this climb. I cannot stop me from overcoming and conquering my goals. I am inevitable, but I say that with shaking teeth. Where does it all lie (in meaning, themes, memories, implications, ideas, places, and every conceivable idea or reality-object)? Where does it all lead? This is irresistably compelling! This power that I hold, if I may so admit, is not something I feel proud of necessarily. This forward momentum is so compelling, but I am afraid nonetheless. It is this great capacity that leads me astray. I fear that I might lose my soul and gain the whole world. I am afraid I might become perfection and lose everything that makes me me. I fear power and strength. I fear ability and the opposite of helplessness. I fear that I am capable of standing up on and on again and again. I fear that I can, when I have had fears in the past that I could not. This endless drive is terrifying to me. I fear becoming so sure that I lose myself. I feel that it should be good for me to become helpless so that I may finally lose this forward momentum that seems endless. I need a humbling, as I fear power and capability more than I fear the idea of losing everything, though only as of writing. I know that when tragedy strikes, I will cry louder than I have ever cried before during times of heightened forward momentum. But still, I remain compelled that this fear of such a unstoppable endlessly motivated growth remains striking and resonant within me.