Hello,

Can you speak to 'passing through to the other side' as an option opposed to 'staying on the outside of' in relation to the world of images. I mean, do they only take? They were once a world, now just a pain in the forehead and they are flat, stiff. And they accumulate and spread. Can you speak to the compulsion to delete?

Thank you and I love to read your posts at times.

hey anonymous;

whatever issue you find that you have, you:d be better pressed to express your issues less poetically if you want real+material answers instead of just some vibe abstract answer; i can give you the poetic answer, though: o, anonymous, it:s all so tiring;

take care

hello mara! do you have any favorite animals? personally ive always been fond of moles because they live mostly solitary lives underground. i am also left-handed. wishing you a lovely day ❤️

hey anonymous;

for the most part i hate all animals -- can:t stand them, and over-all they just are "heartbreaking existences" to me, and the more i think about their existence the more depressing and dirty it seem: more-so in the framing of pets: like little people kept infantilized and enclosed in this animal-shaped box that becomes their boundary and the spirit inside is kept in this odd "retardation chamber" and the spirits outside of which reach down and pet it and coo and keep it in additional boxes; grow old and die a life spent of simple expectation and safeties and within a house though they were prized convert of Gods of Hikkikimorism; or, more likely personalized: seeing fractals of my own relationship with my mom and self, and how the dogs were treated: how they were spake to: how i was spake to; shock collars, control schemes, small yards, dust and fur everywhere, etc etc;

mostly, too: they just carry a sickening warmth to them no-matter their captivity; worst thing of all with the warmth is it begets warmth of these Hikkiki masters of "retardation chambers," whose existence then becomes fawning cutesies and odd toyshipism; oh, the cute dog; oh, the cute cat; oh, the beauty so of these birds: i imagine same being said of people and think it all odd and weird and strangely sexual; to release from the chamber: crush the ribs, the skulls, etc;

as a kid i really liked marine life, and was obsessed with the sea and wanting to live either on a boat or underwater ala some empty Rapture-like place; reptiles were sort-of neat, may-be because my mom worked with them and i were exposed to them so much; before i was "communicated with" a few years ago and everything changed, i really loved my cat (not all cats, just mine), but after communication happened and "i saw the dirt on everything" she just became another dirty thing that i sort-of play an obligation to, cause i want her to have a good life as i can give her -- i owe her that much for my part in "the retardation chamber" and the odd machine-like pet animal industry. that:s about it, moles remind me of that one kafka story about the burrows; take care, anonymous.

It:s Orsday Sabbath today; consider observing it if you:re left-handed -- if interested, here:s this weeks programming post and the illustration for it; I have a migraine today

church notes from the adventists this week; very tired, not sleeping; yesterday made ube yogurt (had a big purple potato to use up) and a small carrot cake (using flax and protein powder mostly, had to use up carrots); cleaned a lot this week; almost done with hearts in atlantis audiobook, and my brilliant friend (physical); really like the illustrations i made for last orsday sabbaths programming; haven:t felt much motivation; reading blog (the untranslated, wordpress) on "graduate school" makes me want to learn languages to read more things -- language kind-of creepy: can:t remember if it were in programming or in DMs or some ask here but just-as music threads itself with control, control, control mechanism so-too does language and so-too does light and life; constant thrumming control, control, control and if you hear it, it sounds like little metal insects; in the inanimate driving forces of life (CONNECT!) are duller, but still there: light is like a fog heavy with bodies of fine insect only seeming invisible but surely there as any molecule or oxygen; may-be even you get used to it, so you cease to see it; shame i:m so senseless; really liking design of don zauker and UFO theme in pynchon--daitarn 3: invincible machine! mars and cold-pressed machine

illustrations for this weeks orsday sabbath programming;

can read it here if you'd like

drawing my ro priest

notes from church today

someone dies right after asking for art of them, and family, and only afterwards can find willingness to do so

Hello, hope you are well. I wanted to ask if music really interests you, and if you listen to any bands or music that really provoke you positively.

hi anonymous; no, i go out of my way to avoid listening to music, and i have no musical inclination; even if i like music i can:t help but know that it is filled with something evil and controlling, and if it provokes a passion and it seem positive (or even negative) it still must be that evil controlling will selecting those positive levers to control.

are there musics i like? surely; am i weak to music? surely as anyone else; is the sin within the music interesting: absolutely; it:d all be repeating the same answer though about music i:ve liked and listened to and about hasn:t changed since my 'music-fasting': gezebelle gaburgably gaburger were the last album i gave a lot of passion to and remains a favorite -- but i don:t listen to music cept by happenstance now (comes on a radio; in the background; from a neighbor; within the air), and the last song i heard was some country song with "watermelon moonshine" in the chorus (catchy) -- i liked it. take care, yet your spirit is not your own and your spirit filled with louses invisible and gnawing and attached through an air invisible and musical and pulled from heaven with whispers both sweet inviting and encouraging the best of loves abstraction could only offer and a lifefulness best beset within server in propagation of divine CONNECT(!).

the orsday programming and calendar for this week, if interested in reading: here

without nightmare kill team 40k boxed set preorder as far-off goal to hope for (as distant admirer): needing something else; learning language in order of interest: say spanish, hebrew, japanese; so little time, though; low on passion, too; think i need CONNECT(!) to have more passion and thoughts like these and children like these (say: the post itself, and thought itself) louse by the Invisible; etiquette mandates that the louse be plucked and excised and the child (say: the post itself, and thought higher up in hierarchy) with it; then: silence; in sermon: notes for orsday programming: that the corpse itself underground be circulate with life though yet dead and blood pumping; imagine blood pouring slow like ooze in vase as echo of blood pouring from side-wound of wide invisible body of a god and that be physical representational echo (the blood; separate of the spirit in air) be the demon made flesh; circle like that and thought via etiquette demands disCONNECT(!) and thought via louse demands CONNECT(!) -- and no dispassion achieved or passion; and kill team nightmare 40k boxed set preorder impossible obtain in 41st millennium @ 140$ price-point; bugs and insect and fluid inside each, each in-turn inside a jar; observed inside-out from eye and body invisible made visible inside-out from jar outside insect fluid inside jar and outside, throughout; or such-and-such or what-ever; the day is too long and all:s there to do is look forwards to cooking

sermon notes afrom (?) church taday (?) and sketch to commemorate 40k nightmare kill-team going out of stock afore i had any greater chance to worry about paying $140 for it and whether i really wanted it or not; i:d like to be midnight clad -- but janitors like me are serfs to to the night lords

i finished my internet sin pay-wall post! here's the collage of letters thanking all my subscribers; you can read the post here if interested;

i also finished the Orsday religious programming post for this sabbath if interested; readable here if interested;

and, as a bonus: the sermon notes from yesterday;

happy easter!! :-))

Hi Mara, I am right handed. I'm interested in learning to use my left hand as well and to learn mirrored writing out of curiosity. I also think that it might be good for me to be able to write/ read in both directions. What do you think about this?

hi anonymous;

if you think it sounds fun, great; if you think it makes you left-handed to do so in regards to the segregation of chirality: it does not, you are immutably right-handed forever; take care & happy easter, anonymous

posting; the nightmare kill team release is supposed to be out soon; think i:ll psyche myself out of trying to get it if i see the cost; want to play RO or FFXI again

hi mara, i found your blog quite randomly, and i feel a sense of comfort from your posts. im not sure how to explain this fully, on account of general burnout, but i feel more at ease whilst reading your posts. they have a familiar feeling to them that i cant exactly explain. thank you for posting, please look after yourself

hey anonymous; is that so? for me: i take comfort in thinking about ABA(!) -- i have this mental game i:ve been playing since i:ve seen the trailer for her where i imagine wasting my pay on strive and her dlc (?) and then maybe trying her in practice for a few minutes and alt+f4ing 'cause i:m too bored; but it flows further: i imagine maybe if i took a chance and made a connection with another person and grinding Strive together like back when i:d play KOF with friends over voice and had fun; and then ABA becomes a key (ha) to tool me to connect, to may-be be the excitement i need to start having more pits and valleys and hills in my life instead of the same slow march deeper into a quiet boring life (but isn:t that how the control starts? suddenly ABA is another operant lever installed inside to control me to CONNECT!); or so-and-so; really love the design, may-be best to admire from afar and not covet the material to be a simple tool to fix a dear flaw in myself.

any-ways!

it:s orsday sabbath, overlapping with the 7th day sabbath, and i wrote another weekly programming post, + i have sermon notes and some bad sketches of my pastor since i went to church, too;

read it here if you:d like

I hope you're having a good day! And if not I hope you find comfort

hey there anonymous; good morning, you sent this to me last night when i was well in bed (sun had barely even set, even; time change makes sleeping at 8 feel even earlier than usual);

mostly ignoring this to blog a bit about the usual thing i always whine-about (maybe it:ll help someone 'relate' or feel 'less alone' but lord knows its just me spinning wheels cause i like writing): the flattening of my mood: like every-thing had just become this one singular wide featureless plain with all site in sight being just the same stretch without pit and without hill: the sort-of landscape that'd provoke NO PASSION and NO THOUGHT equally and just-so also smooth away any great pain and any great joy: which is exactly just the comfort i am tired of, as it:s like some crawling thing that keeps taking more and more, example: food now all tastes the same, too, taken under by that same wasteland plain barren; although i:d describe my mood as being fairly 'up' (there are still things i:d been getting keen about: writing isekai story, the new ABA in strive looks really cool, i have religious programming to write, there is new media to read and watch) it never seems to amount more than a small 'pop' that ends-up nearly always more disappointing than fulfilling or centering; it is like the spirit has begun evaporating out of me through these little fissures in the Make of my material that had let that esprit DRY, KILN, BAKE, ASH out and leave the innerworks of me (MARA!) as little more closer and closer to being some fine spotless beetle of mechanics, and operations, clicking with spring and circuit forward and forward to next task: cook, eat, clean, exercise; count in fours always; pray in mornings, too; it is the experience of life not as a person but as the mechanical, where life ceases to be felt as life and yet as mere experience of time (both four letter words, as it were; vision poor enough they:d be the same grey smudge on the screen; vision poor enough they:d be the same dead bug on windshield before the bugs themselves became rare); my mood has been up and i still have these black thoughts flowing out from Dieth and Daniela and centered around how inescapable and infinite Wasteland seems: the self is extricated out and becomes a paperdoll where (impersonal) you imagine it undergoing a hanging or a suffocating of all air, and imagine the 'ecstasy' of whether the viewer can undergo the felt feelings of the paperdoll as it goes to 100% material; the act of moving limbs to go through with the task, to resolve, to collect the instruments, to imagine the Afters (the people who knew), to imagine all the things unsaid and things yet wanted to do and done undone and the willingness to let self be robbed of 'fate' (?) where death claims its 'natural' (?) due;

very-much i:d just like to write and focus and be left fulfilled, but it:s all fairly boring; i:d like to play the new ABA and grind her in practice mode (i SHAN'T be spending money on games though) and just instead imagine how anxious sitting in a practice mode hitting buttons feels and can:t imagine undergoing that more than eight minutes at most (this is much how writing is; much how drawing is); there:s this alien quality being poured in-to me, may-be byproduct of adhering to Etiquette like the years of slowly embodying an ill philosophy has led me further ill and alien: it becomes harder and harder to find any reason to talk to another, to nurture friendships, to say Hey, to want to do anything with others as it all just becomes more stretch on the barrenland and buttons to hit and mechanical beetle limbs to undulate, undulate, driven just by fluid sacs or what-ever dumb organ drives beetles (for me it:s my yap organ).

all of this is to say: i wish i could be playing new ABA cause i like her design a lot but can:t imagine playing a fighting game ever being fun without having a friend to do it with, and nothing sounds more boring to me at the same time, but i:m tired of being bored, too. i want to be at a joyous tone 4! a joyous tone 4! so engender a joyous tone 4 in your own life, anonymous, cause if you will it surely it:ll happen.