post-hack pain feels like what I imagine radiation poisoning would be like.
This is Cupid. Laurie called my attention to the consequences so I realized the true aftereffects of what I've been doing.
…This isn’t worth it. What I go for, and what actually apparently happens, are not in line. And I am sorry for avoiding this nauseating truth for so long.
Not only is it nauseating, it aches in a sore way, like a flu. My hips ache like raw teeth exposed to lemon juice. So do my arms, so does my neck, my legs, my face. The base of my spine is the worst, and that has a particular kind of rock-pain to it, like an orange, turned hard from age, shoved there where the spine connects to the pelvis.
I'm nauseous and dizzy and more than anything, more than anything, I feel like crying.
I feel like I'm about 14 and I feel like sobbing, and I don't know why, there's no memory of why, there's a striking detachment from even these symptoms, hovering in the background like a fever, and yet I'm just… miserable. I feel like heaving with weeps.
…I'm sorry. I didn't know it did this.
Laurie says I should look at the "physical data" of what I was allegedly doing and I don't want to look at it. That's not what I was doing.
(Yes it WAS, DAMN IT)
…is that the point?
I'm… trying to pursue some heavenly ideal, that doesn't even exist here, and instead it's leaving me with the fallout of a hydrogen bomb? Headaches and vomiting and sores?
They claimed this was a way to reach "God" but I'm starting to wonder what sort of "god" rewards temporary exposure to it with excruciating agony.
…
This isn't right.
I can feel it now. The truth. I can feel the body's horror and regret and sickness, and disgust at what it's just endured. I am so sorry.
…I shouldn't come out anymore. I'm pursuing something sheerly internal and trying to force it on the external is just going to cause this again, and this is quite frankly horrifying, with a feeling like my body is rotting away in limey chunks, falling to the floor in stringy aching pieces, red and raw, oozing with pain, and an existentially terrifying nihilistic void about my head that makes the world feel small and empty and hollow and devoid of hate but also devoid of love and everything is tiny and boxed-in and painted awful paste-white and fluorescent bulbs and it's sickening.
I want to cry and I want to vomit and it's not even me,
but I'm responsible for conjuring this hell.
What the hell was I thinking.
God, the true God, the Christ-Light God that this System is trying however clumsily to follow… you are truly unconditional love, even if we can't feel it in this fear.
Help us feel your peace. Help us feel your healing. Take this agony away from this body, unless it's mine to bear in sheer horror to learn my lesson.
Give us the clarity of knowledge and awareness to never attempt this again, realizing that true love and compassion and healing comes from You, not from sexual compulsion and distortion. We want relief, we want to feel connection to All, well this will NEVER lead us to it. Only YOU are That. Only YOU are That, and this scrap of a thing does not inherently lead to You, ever, no matter what other deluded lost pitiful ones may attempt to claim.
I love You, and I am sorry, and I wish for Your healing and Your blessing, that we all may walk in greater Truth and refrain from ever attempting this again, in full knowledge of its emptiness and pettiness in the sight of All That Is.
There is too much pride in this, I'm scared.
…
This never did lead to You. Hundreds of attempts over several years, all met with disgust and fear and pain and sickness and horror. NONE of them EVER led to you, even the ones motivated by an ardent wish more than I could ever muster. NONE of it worked.
…Why do we keep trying? Because we doubt, and we are crushed under the weight of our own shame and guilt and we are just desperately trying to "find a back door to God" as we crave forgiveness and healing and redemption more than anything in the world, but we feel so filthy and shameworthy that we are appalled at the very thought of showing our unworthy self(ves?) before God.
God is supposed to love unconditionally, to welcome His children with open arms, saying with the most earnest compassion, "I forgive you, now don't sin again, instead walk and follow Me. Walk in love and you will not falter. I will guide you in your ways."
Why are we scared that God will look down upon us with bloodthirsty eyes of judgment and declare that we are unworthy of his presence, that He does not know us, that we are little but dust in his sight?
…I think it's because we know that, right now, we are that way. In this disgusted, terrified, sickened state, we are dust and dirt before God, we are unworthy, we arecondemned to Hell.
…We bring the payment for our own sins upon our own heads.
Is this what the brother is going through? He's so mired in self-hate and despair that he cannot hear anything positive or joyful or loving or forgiving? That even when Jennifer stands next to him in the kitchen and smiles with all her pure simple compassion and thinks of how she wants to help him be happy, how she cares for this boy she doesn't even know well, because he's a soul who deserves to be happy-- that even then, he looks up at us with a lava glare and spits, "oh, that's a nice thing to want to do to someone. Why don't you just get it over with??" and Jennifer is left upset and scared and confused and on the verge of tears.
Is this feeling of utter crushing worthlessness through fault what he's feeling?
If it is, God have mercy on him. May he have mercy on himself.
But we know what it's like to also feel like you don't ever deserve forgiveness, never, not for what you did, you pig, you WHORE, you fucking BASTARD--
no I DON'T MEAN THAT I DON'T HATE YOU I HATE WHAT HAPPENED FROM WHAT YOU DID AND I'M SICK AND SCARED AND ANGRY AND I'M SO FUCKING ANGRY BECAUSE I'M SCARED AND I DON'T HATE YOU I HATE THIS.
I'M SORRY. I'm sorry. I don't mean those bad things.
I think we have a fever. I'm frightened.
…
How do we calm down?
Can we meditate? Would that help? If we just unplugged from everything and lost ourselves in music for a while, floated in TRUE pure Whitespace, pure creative joy, NOT that fallout-sickness shit bleached the color of dying churches that they keep claiming is God.
FUCK YOU. IT'S NOT.
That wasn't me and frankly I'm still feeling like weeping and it's still not me but my heart aches with the deepest sympathy and empathy, and that alone is making me want to cry, to wrap these children in my arms and--
Oh no. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, no no nonono,
I promised this wouldn’t touch them,
do I not have a choice in that???!!!
fuck this.
fuck this.
no pun intended, leave me alone, you devils.
Actually, that does work. Because this awful thing that you ALWAYS call "f*cking" no matter what someone's motivations are, really does just boil down to that, in our context.
It's shallow and dirty and wrong and painful and awful and it HURTS CHILDREN and it's NEVER NEVER ANYTHING GOOD.
it's awful. I want to stop this forever. Laurie, someone, remind me of the level disconnect if I EVER attempt this nonsense again, I don't want to do this, you know that, even if I don't in the moment. I get confused, I get blind. God forgive me.
…I didn't mean for this to hurt the children. Jeremiah, I'm sorry. I am so sorry.
"Sorry doesn't cut it. You still hurt them."
"He didn't mean to--"
"He STILL hurt them!!!!"
…I
can't
I can't handle the
shame, the guilt, the
terror? nausea? all of it.
I can't cope. I'm leaving
(don't look at that shit again, all those negative vibes are WHAT STARTED THIS and YOU KNOW IT.
describing analogies to this shit in neutral language, DID YOU EVER CONSIDER WHAT KIND OF ENTITIES THAT WAS DESCRIBING??????????
CHOLERIC MURDEROUS PREDATORS. FUCKING WIDOWERS, YOU BITCH.
DO YOU WANT TO COPY THE MINDLESS OBSCENE ACTIONS OF THOSE FUCKING THINGS?????????????
NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
NO YOU DO NOT!!!!!!
SO FUCKING STOP IT.
leave well enough alone.
that's not for us, damn it.
figure out why you're so fucking transfixed (low vobration match, maybe??????) and then GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE, YOU FUCKING IDIOT.
CANNON IF THAT IS YOU,
(and I should add that I get your name tied to me fairly often due to my rage, but YOU are the one obsessed with gore and morbid destruction and shit, YOU DON'T REACT LIKE ME GOD DAMN IT,
I should add that you need to stop fucking around with the System that exists around you now. Wake up and stand up and get your damned head out of the bloody gutter, you're dragging us ALL DOWN WITH YOU.)
GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE.
DON'T GO BACK.
ASK YOURSELF QUESTIONS FOR ONCE OR I'LL GET LAURIE IN HERE TO GRILL YOU UNTIL YOU BURN.)
I think Eros is right. Was that Eros?
(Original Eros. We named him Cupid now.)
Cupid then. I think he was right about the fever. We're sick.
Probably from the food abusers eating out of the garbage and exposing themselves to waste products and generally hideous unsanitary conditions. Where the fuck do they even get off doing that?
(They don't consider it real. There's data on that from today. They're barely conscious.)
Well shit. That needs to stop.
(I know. And stop stealing my rough language when I'm depressed, that's disturbing.)
Sorry.
Let's get out of here and go to sleep early. I don't know if this is hack consequences or something worse exacerbated by it.
(Probably the latter.)
But yeah let's get out of here now.