/** * file: karbytes_09_august_2023.txt * type: plain-text * date: 09_AUGUST_2023 * author: karbytes * license: PUBLIC_DOMAIN */ People are deliberately trying to prevent me from doing relaxation breathing exercises. Those people seem to think that me doing relaxation breathing exercises makes me feel and look too good. Those people prefer that I look and feel unhappy. You are not allowed to breathe that well without a property owner's blessing. You are supposed to be constantly uncomfortable and prevented from doing much other than bare minimum survival oriented tasks unless you have the blessing of a property owner to live at his estate. Most women have to give birth to a child or financially support someone other than themselves in order to be granted the right to live in a house instead of on the street where they are much more likely to get killed, injured, or kidnapped (and possibly tortured and sold into sex trafficking). A woman basically is chased around and worn out until she gives into the demands of the societal structure which subordinates women to be used for sex, childbearing, child rearing, and lowly domestic slavery by men. If she is not happy with that arrangement, she may try to kill herself, run away and disguise herself as a man, or settle for being putty in a man's hands. And that is all Castro Valley has time for. I hear and see people swarming around me every chance they get to prevent me from getting back to what I would rather focus on. I hear a lot of car horns honking (and people seem to be angry when they honk their horns because they hold down the button to prolong the sound) seemingly in immediate response to me thinking and feeling a "spike" of adrenaline about something I am unhappy about having to focus on but what the people around me seem to feel entitled to holding me hostage about focusing on for those people's benefit and at my expense. The timing of the car honking seems to me to imply that I am surrounded by a lot of impatient and mentally lazy chauvinist pigs who just want me to stay dumbed down, angry, physically unhealthy, and prevented from making progress towards my artistic and academic goals. The people do not seem to want me to get a job unless the job disadvantages me more than it benefits me. The people seem to enjoy trying to provoke me into having much higher stress hormones in my bloodstream than I would if those people honored my preference to be spared their bullying (and the people do seem to get a dirty thrill out of holding their little kids like meat shields in front of them knowing there is an elevated chance that those kids will get pummeled by my fists, feat, or weapons but they seem to think that chance is fairly low). The people seem to get a sense of reward out of shorting my life span, lowering my intelligence, suppressing my otherwise freer speech, and attaining even the smallest degree of satisfaction in experiences which cost them virtually nothing. The message is clear to me what those people are abrasively promoting: happiness is not free and there is not enough resources available to supply everyone the means to be happy. Hence, only "the chosen ones" are entitled to the means to be happy which is why we must prevent you from having such things. Also what they seem to be saying: not a single one of us in this community is entitled to have much time alone without someone else to monitor their body position and movements. We are opposed to allowing people privacy and solitude because we are opposed to people being able to think outside the box of what the community deems to be appropriate and in the community's best interests. Right now there is someone pulled up in their van with the engine running next to me trying to prevent me from focusing on writing this note. Those people are just sitting there seemingly waiting to pick a fight with me. Earlier today someone pulled up in their SUV to run their motor when I was in the midst of unchaining my parked bicycle. The girls and women have shrill voices which sound like drunken sobbing laughter and being amused at mere gossip and local petty drama and little more; anything to be the center of attention. There's a lot of dogs barking and howling from inside their cages where they are held captive by Earth's most powerful predator: the apes referred to as humans. Humans seem to feel comfortable with that arrangement. The women and children voices are the worst sounds I hear. There is nothing more depressing and ugly than those sounds. Along with it are the sounds of men barking in a smug way. The people here seem to be enjoying how much my day (and life) has been stolen from me to be held hostage by them: the breeders who treat non breeders like parasites to destroy. A car just parked in front of me. I cannot sit here and write about what i really want to with these people so vehemently interference. I'm gonna grab that fucking car I parked in Castro Valley and take it back to Dublin because there is no space for me to exist in this town (and no one seems able nor willing to keep me adequately informed about what's going on because of how little people have been willing to answer my statements honestly, directly, and without rudeness). Many of the places I sit at in Castro Valley tend to get filled with cigarette smoke when I sit down there. I also noticed almost nonstop construction noises and sites. I noticed lots of people traveling in talkative packs. I do not think people are okay with me sitting down to focus on my own thoughts even though I consider being able to focus on my own thoughts an essential and unconditional human right. That issue right there might be the single most essential factor which makes me feel radically and maybe even incompatibly different from the vast majority of humans around me. Most other people seem to not be troubled over the prospect of having their thoughts censored and dumbed down. One last thing: keeping the car in my posession and within walking distance of where I sleep and hang out helps me feel more powerful in the game I am playing (and more able to get a job and more able to commit suicide because people seem to want me to be constantly threatening to kill myself so they have a reason to impede my autonomy). I wrote this note after taking the BART and bike from Dublin to Castro Valley around noon in order to get a break from the shrill female voice which sounds like Cardi B and which has followed me to this side of the world. There are better amenities for my needs on the Dublin side. Castro Valley seems to only allow me to stay in it if I make family the center of my life instead of a career. People seem to prefer I be a people pleaser or else a mental ward patient on this side. On the other side, people seem to treat me like a party of one and an able bodied adult. I'm not trying to diss Castro Valley. I miss it and feel bad that I cannot seem to conduct my personal business here without it being an uphill battle fraught with many petty and wasteful distractions. This is arguably one of the most desirable places to live in the entire San Francisco Bay Area. There is a fertile age woman walking her little dog on a leash while she emits shrill babbling chimp noises and stands approximately ten meters away from me seemingly to listen into what seem to be "key words" coming out of my head and into hers so that she can generate retaliatory response vocalizations. I heard many times that people are not okay with me having thoughts which are not as tepid, cliche, and simple as that of a family friendly comedy cartoon character. It's not okay for me to use big words around these child-head big bottomed pygmies whose brains sound more dumbed down than that of a typical ten year old boy. Another big car driver pulled over to sit and to stare me down. The air has been steeped in cigarette smoke for the past twenty minutes nonstop. I'm afraid to go back to Dublin because the air pollution in the flats surrounding the freeway seems to have a lot of automobile traffic. I am afraid of getting lung cancer or skin cancer from being exposed to environmental hazards so frequently (when I could otherwise stay indoors at my familys' houses in Castro Valley where everyone can more easily police my every move). I suppose I would rather risk getting cancer than I would being deprived of the ability to enjoy and to succeed at making what I think is adequate progress towards my intellectual goals. It's hard for me to conclusively discern how much of what I have written is me "spinning" my words to pander to particular audience (other than myself) and how much is candid and self affirming. The latter is exemplified by the content which comprises the website named Karlina Object dot WordPress dot Com. * * * Brain matter loss pregnancy related Leaving car behind Petroleum dependence, power advantages and disadvantages * * * The shorthand notes in the previous section refer to the following ideas: The gray matter in the brain of a human who is pregnant tends to decrease during the phase in which that human is pregnant. That is something which I think would not surprise many people but which is not widely known to many people. I decided to leave the petroleum powered Toyota Matrix minivan safely parked at the top of the hill in one of the most upscale parts of Castro Valley within a quarter mile of my current legal residence (which is a house my parents own and inherited from my dad's deceased parents). Even if I am seen struggling to travel through the rain, wind, and glaring hot bright sunlight (and air pollution and noise and many hazards which most car users are oblivious to), I consider it to be a worthy sacrifice because I think it will ultimately net less suffering in the universe than would my driving a petroleum powered vehicle. Cars are for families with people in it who are seemingly much more high maintenance than I am. Cars are also for people in the midst of performing jobs which are deemed to be essential rather than supplemental to society's functioning. My existence is mostly parasitic. All I really do is strive to impress myself and to preserve and to expend my public domain collection of digital artifacts. Some people think I cost too much and hence deserve to be cut off of the material resources I need to continue doing what I described (because what I described myself doing is deemed by many if not most other people to be unimportant and taking resources away from their agenda to comfort and sustain themselves and their tribe). Some people think I am more cost effective than most other people are and hence seem to get more value out of a small amount of money than those others would (especially if value is about doing something more than merely sustaining oneself and one's access to sustainance (especially something which elevates many people's quality of conscious experience)). Finally, another reason I have no friends is that too many humans seem to dogmatically believe and coerce other people around them into believing that there is nothing they can personally do to avoid age related cognitive and physical decline. I would rather not waste my time and window of opportunity potential rotting with people who normalize poisoning themselves and the environment and in denying personal culpability in the environmental crisis on Planet Earth which humanity is now experiencing (or likely will experience if the trend of continued petroleum combustion dependence continues). Some people think humans shouldn't worry about petroleum reserves on Planet Earth becoming depleted. Such people stress focusing on the present and local and on downplaying the seriousness of climate change and ecological sustainability issues. Perhaps such people think that their God will answer their silent prayers for endless oil. Perhaps such people do not mind hastening the destruction of the biosphere on Planet Earth because such people believe that God will whisk them and their loved ones to some otherworldly paradise to live in eternal bliss (or at least a fresh new start at earthly existence). * * * I remember something that my deceased maternal grandmother said in her rather thick Filipino accent: "If you don't got religion; you don't got nothing." I was thinking about that line today after sitting in a parking lot outside of some medical office in Dublin/Pleasanton this afternoon and slightly stoned from what I consumed approximately one hour earlier: some good coffee (a small size this time) which I bought at a Starbucks in the city of Castro Valley and a sativa pill containing 25 milligrams of THC. Bicycling might as well be a part of my personal religion. I would also consider having my own personal computer and mobile Internet router a core component of my religion (or at least sport). My religion does not stop being practiced by me merely because I lose access to the technology I just described. As long as my brain is in tact enough to retain all of the knowledge which is essential to my religion, I am still a practioner of my religion. I imagined telling my imaginary best friend that in my pocket is a flash drive solid state memory stick containing no more than five gigabytes worth of digital data which encodes computer executable code files, program input and output data files, and human-to-robot targeted documentation files for generating the entire multiverse (and not just a subset of the whole which is all of reality including all space-time continuums and all qualia ever detected). The vision I described in the previous paragraph is what I think would be a thoughtful way to extend the "lifespan" of the words which my grandmother spoke. I heard those words, I remembered them and how they sounded (i.e. timber, pitch, time duration but almost nothing else because that's how spotty my memory of the relatively distant past is), and then "generated" my own quasi interpretation of those words (and Karlina Object dot WordPress dot Com is the one and only official manual codifying my personal religion). I almost turned this note into a new web page on the website named Karbytes For Life Blog dot WordPress dot Com but later decided instead to append this note to the day journal entry I published on GitHub earlier. Everything I publish on my public GitHub repositories is considered by me to be public domain intellectual property (which is, by definition, is free for any person to view, make copies of, make remixed copies of, and to sell verbatim or remixed copies of).