What's some Yea Forums that's inspiring, will make me happy, or will make me cope better? Anything to stop the suffering, please. I literally can't get out of my house and feel like I and my body are two separate entities.
What's some Yea Forums that's inspiring, will make me happy, or will make me cope better...
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Thanks doc.
Books don't help
What does?
Nothing. Cope doesn't work.
You're standing on a cliff, watching the eddying currents whip around below.
It's as far down as you think it is.
You are alone.
It's not windy, or hot, or sunny, or cold. It is not day or night. It is exactly the temperature of your body, and you can't stand it anymore.
You stare at the patterns you see formed by the water, and despite the complexity, you can eventually predict them.
So you jump.
You wish you could better capture the fall, but you never do.
It's surrender.
Hitting the water only reminds you of how hard liquid can be, and then you swim.
Most of what you had predicted would happen does. You move as much as you can away from the undertow, and you realize that there was a miscalculation on your part.
You aren't strong enough.
Fighting the water is like fighting god itself.
It's your entire environment. You had everything you needed, and it wasn't enough.
You can't breathe.
You don't want to breathe.
Water isn't blue.
It's just another lens to view yourself through.
It's a mirror, and you can't break it.
You do everything you can, and then you realize what you can't.
It's then that the sea grows tired of you.
The shore is softer than the water, somehow.
The sky is blank.
Sand tawny.
Rocks dark as you climb back up to the pinnacle.
You watch the patterns of the sea, remembering how you once were part of them.
You feel a slight chill.
In the water you felt held.
In the water you were immersed.
In the water there was no part of you that was untouched.
In the water you were home.
In the water you couldn't breathe.
You take a deep breath of the air.
The chill wears off.
You are dry, and you are again staring down into the current below, and you notice a whippoorwill pattern of sea-foam that you hadn't seen before.
It fascinates you more than the arid, seemingly temperatureless air that spits on your back with quiet whispers.
The sea calls you toward it. It wants to touch you. The air brushes against your body and moves along.
Dostoyevsky
You want to capture the fall this time, and yet it still evades you.
It's thrilling beyond expression, perhaps, knowing that when you stop falling you might have escaped the entire framework of reality.
And if you had?
Was it some obvious loophole that you only just now realized was exploitable, and freed you from every suffering that you experienced in whatever body existed that you imagine you have transcended by hitting bottom?
Meditations by Marcus Aurelius might help. Or any other stoic, but this one is the easiest to understand.
But then you remember that from the last time you jumped.
It becomes all so familiar, the warm embrace of the sea and the cold breath of the air.
The patterns.
The boredom.
The suffocation.
The shore.
So you climb the dark rocks again, because you have nowhere else to go.
Standing again at the precipice, the temperature recalibrates itself to your skin.
You are nothing and everything.
You stare into the sea.
You are alone.
But the sea doesn't change anymore.
You've watched the whirling eddies and the Mandelbrot set play before your eyes.
You just aren't allowed to be a part of it.
You are an observer at the apex of your climb, and there's nothing more to see.
And every jump returns you to this point.
You need a good psychiatrist to prescribe you some pills. It helped me.
The sea has tired of you.
You have tired of the sea.
You have wandered on the land enough to know that it will drive you back to the shores.
You will again climb the black rocks.
You will again stare into the water.
You will again approach the point of jumping.
You have no choice but to jump, and yet there's a moment before you do.
It's the moment that Sisyphus has as the boulder rolls down the hill again.
It's the moment that you ask what the point is.
And just as Sisyphus could have just walked over the hill, you climb down the rocks.
You watch the ocean from the shore, and you feel the sand on your skin, and you have no idea what to do or where to go.
You aren't part of this world, after all.
Even if you wanted to be.
You are a streaking comet that has been plunged into the sea, and that's all you know how to be.
Psychiatric drugs might help, but SSRI's can make some people worse. You need to be self-aware and stop if you feel worse. Improvements don't come immediately.
Another option would be meditation but you have to do the work whereas with SSRI's they do the work. Check out Mindfulness in Plain English, Mastering the Core Teachings of the Buddha, and/or The Mind Illuminated. The author of the last book is involved in a sex scandal which some believe taints the book but it's been helpful to many. Read the amazon reviews to see if any appeal to you. Good luck!
So, you just keep falling.
Because you don't know how not to.
You invent gravity to try explain it.
You determine that everything is being pulled toward the center of the Earth at 9.8 meters-per-second-squared.
And at the center?
Well, it's just a bunch of mass.
As is your streaking body as you plunge into the ocean and yet again get pushed out by the patterns onto the shore.
You wake up. You fall asleep.
Everything you've ever wanted except everything you wanted, and that's what you're looking at when you climb onto the rocks and stare into the sea.
Followup on my post - after thinking about it, you need to see a doctor first, even if you do decide to try meditation.
You sing to the sea.
That's all you can do. You beat against it with your tears, which only add to its mass.
You weep and you die, and you dissolve into it.
If you change it at all, then you have succeeded.
Are you death incarnate?
is pic comrade xiangyu the Chinese Marxist rapper
You're original, with your own path
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Wtf is going on in this thread?
Apparently we told some of the Yea Forums invasion to read Camus and Kierkegaard, and they did, the absolute madmen. And one guy from /sci/ who reconsidered practising medicine without a licence in a Japanese anime philosophy imageboard. Just go with it youtu.be/emYht-Q0IMk
Why does this remind me of early Bowie?
Man, I hope so.
I mean, this nigga was born in China and he's spitting bars better than most people who speak English where I'm from and it's so good I just want to like donate money or something like some currency I have to it.
That's good shit.
Can you imagine wishing you spoke Mandarin better than English?
I can.
Because whatever this nigga's laying down is even better in that language, and I guess it's about time to give a fuck about whatever arbitrary human language anybody thinks enough of a fuck about.
Who cares?
Fucking let's all just give it to Esperanto.
I mean, they at least tried.
Don't you get it? Suffering is the meaning of life. Bear your suffering with pride, and maybe somewhere along the way you will help ease the suffering of others.
But until every human can speak the same language, then I guess we all sound like DJ Khaled.
Another one. And another one.
Tom Venuto Burn the fat feed the muscle
skip any chapters on weight loss or motivation. just learn the stuff about how nutrition works. Then look up the Navy Seal fitness minimum entry requirements and work toward those in earnest. I'm not saying you should go be a navy seal, but physically challenging yourself to do 80 pushups in 120 seconds and then run a mile and a half in under 10 minutes will make you feel better.
Not 100% everything is OK better, but definitely a lot better.
Mad at yourself? go to the gym and beat yourself up. It is literally painful.
Happy with yourself? go to the gym and work real hard. it's painful, but it's good for you and thus, is a reward.
Discipline Equals Freedom by Jocko Willink
Well, Donald Trump and David Lynch are impossible opposites who you'll never be able to unsee.
Sorry not sorry.