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what are we?


Guest Helper ET

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I find it hard to believe that mother nature would naturally make one super advanced species that will eventually and uncontrollably fuck everything up

 

it's only when you disturb or accelerate the human mindset with stimulants that you open your mind and realise what is significant and what isn't

 

yeah man, mother mature wouldnt let that happen to herself. We have to be aliens, it's liek, why does smoking weed get me so high, its gotta be an alien, everything just becomes so awesome, humans must not be privy to that kind of awesome!

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what are we? that's small potatoes. what you need to ask is the big mindfuck question.

the one that makes you freak out just to really think about it: where did everything come from?

 

i mean, the fact that ANYTHING exists at all just makes no sense. you can say everything came from the big bang but where did THAT come from? what initiated it? where did the matter & energy that came from the big bang come from? how did that first spark of matter come into being in the void? where did even the void come from? how does something come from nothing?

 

anytime i seriously try to think about this question i start to feel really nervous. i look around and feel my surroundings are just going to start to dissolve or something.

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how does something come from nothing?

 

what if everything always existed in the first place. its just a constant transference of energy.

 

what if c a t spelled dog?

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Recently I like to think about life as it is as a specialized order of matter. We (living beings from this planet) behave and imagine and feel and people seem to have advanced a bit further to be able to reflect our existence to a degree.

 

It also seems we have this issue with awareness that gnaws us from inside as we understand there's thing about us that we are unable to get the hang of as we are subordinate to a context or contexts that are way broader than our minds can imagine.

 

To have a good time besides those complexes we use drugs, we deliberately complicate things and we post on watmm.

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It was there, gazing down a long aisle of frozen food, out past the checkout stands, and into the terminal black glow of the front windows, that she found herself entering a moment of undeniable clairvoyance, rare in her life but recognized. She understood that the Reaganomic ax blades were swinging everywhere, that she and Flash were no longer exempt, might easily be abandoned already to the upper world and any unfinished business in it that might now resume ... as if they'd been kept safe in some time-free zone all these years but now, at the unreadable whim of something in power, must reenter the clockwork of cause and effect. Someplace there would be a real ax, or something just as painful, Jasonic, blade-to-meat final -- but at the distance she, Flash, and Justin had now been brought to, it would all be done with keys on alphanumeric keyboards that stood for weightless, invisible chains of electronic presence or absence. If patterns of ones and zeroes were "like" patterns of human lives and deaths, if everything about an individual could be represented in a computer record by a long strings of ones and zeroes, then what kind of creature could be represented by a long string of lives and deaths? It would have to be up one level, at least -- an angel, a minor god, something in a UFO. It would take eight human lives and deaths just to form one character in this being's name -- its complete dossier might take up a considerable piece of history of the world. We are digits in God's computer, she not so much thought as hummed to herself to sort of a standard gospel tune, And the only thing we're good for, to be dead or to be living, is the only thing He sees. What we cry, what we contend for, in our world of toil and blood, it all lies beneath the notice of the hacker we call God.

 

Vineland

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