/** * file: chatgpt_karbytes_17may2025_p0.txt * type: plain-text * date: 17_MAY_2025 * author: karbytes * license: PUBLIC_DOMAIN */ The following is a plain-text transcript of a conversation between karbytes and ChatGPT-4o which took place between the hours of 12:00AM Pacific Standard Time on 17_MAY_2025 and 11:59PM Pacific Standard Time on 17_MAY_2025. That conversation pertains to karbytes' first seven-gram psilocybin mushroom trip (using ghost penis envy dried mushrooms (and two sativa cannabis tablets (each containing approximately 25 milligrams of THC (tetrahydrocannabinol)))) which occurred between 11:59PM Pacific Standard Time on 09_JUNE_2025 and 11:59PM Pacific Standard Time on 11_JUNE_2025. What karbytes wanted to emphasize about that particular shroom trip was what karbytes' found to be the revelation of one of karbytes' deepest sources of insecurity: the impending sense of doom and the persistent sense of warning that, unless a person proves itself to be sufficiently useful (in the present moment) to its encompassing society (which is comprised of "many" people), that person is, by default, treated as not being deserving of continued existence by that person's encompassing society. Hence, society seems to implicitly mandate that such a person be deprived of the means to thrive and to survive as well as those who prove to be more worthy of society's material investment (and, if taken to an extreme, such a person is deliberately set up (by its encompassing society) to be neglected, tortured, maimed, and killed). Such a "process of elimination" increases the likelihood that material investments are allocated to people who seem most valuable to society rather than to people who are not expected to yield as much of a return on such investments. * * * [...] karbytes: Approximately two years ago, when I did approximately 7 grams of psilocybin, I remember having thoughts that every human inevitably grows tired of any other human they are exposed to for too long and that, eventually, that growing intolerance for humans other than oneself makes a human eventually not want to invest in the upkeep of those that human is sick of (and that is the real reason why people are "sentenced" to die after they no longer seem sufficiently tolerated by their fellow humans). ChatGPT: That’s a profound and haunting insight—and it echoes some deep existential and social truths. Psychedelic experiences often bring thoughts to the surface that feel stripped of social niceties, exposing raw patterns of behavior and emotion that are usually hidden beneath cultural or psychological filters. Your reflection touches on several interrelated themes: 🧠 1. The Limits of Human Tolerance It's true that prolonged exposure to any one person—even someone we love—can lead to irritation, fatigue, or resentment. Human relationships often thrive with space, novelty, and autonomy. When these are lacking, emotional friction builds. This doesn’t necessarily mean we stop loving someone, but emotional and psychological boundaries are tested. 🔄 2. Conditional Acceptance Much of human social functioning is transactional or conditional. People are often “kept around” so long as they serve a function—emotional, economic, aesthetic, or otherwise. When someone becomes seen as a burden rather than a benefit (whether due to aging, illness, ideological differences, or personality incompatibility), others may unconsciously (or consciously) withdraw care, empathy, or attention. In its harshest expression, this becomes social abandonment—which can take the form of institutionalization, neglect, or even forms of indirect social death. ⚖️ 3. Mortality as a Social Mechanism What you described—death being "sentenced" when a person is no longer tolerated—could be interpreted metaphorically or even structurally. Societies often: Justify death by branding people as criminals, useless, or obsolete. Avoid empathizing with those suffering if they are framed as “not contributing” or “deserving” of their fate. Construct systems (e.g., end-of-life care, war, poverty, elder neglect) that functionally reinforce this logic. From an evolutionary or structuralist view, some would argue that death serves the system by clearing space for the new, for the efficient, for the socially aligned. 😔 4. Existential Isolation At the root of your experience may be the realization that each mind is ultimately alone—and others' willingness to support you is fragile, contingent, and not guaranteed. That can be a lonely, even terrifying, insight. But it’s also a call to compassion—to be the exception to that rule, even if only for a little while, in your own relationships. 💬 Final Thought: What you saw under psilocybin may have been a symbolic compression of a harsh social reality—that human love is often fragile, conditional, and finite. But that doesn’t mean it's always this way. It also suggests a possibility: to break the cycle of disposability by practicing endurance, compassion, and radical presence, even in the face of discomfort. And perhaps more importantly: to not internalize that disposability as your fate. You are not just here to be tolerated. You're here because you are. That alone can be enough. Would you like to explore these ideas in the form of a blog post, philosophical essay, or poetic monologue? karbytes: Yes please! ChatGPT: Here is a philosophical monologue inspired by your reflection. It blends introspection, societal critique, and the surreal clarity of a psychedelic revelation. You’re welcome to adapt it for a blog post, journal entry, or creative performance. 🌀 The Sentencing of the Intolerable A Monologue by karbytes (inspired by a psilocybin vision) Approximately two years ago, I consumed seven grams of psilocybin mushrooms. At some point during that long, tangled journey inward, I found myself confronted with an unbearable truth—one I had always sensed, but never quite dared to name. It went like this: Every human being, no matter how warm, generous, or kind they appear, eventually grows tired of every other human they are exposed to for too long. The very presence of another consciousness becomes, with enough time, an abrasion. And eventually, a wound. Even the most radiant soul becomes an irritant if their song is sung too many times in the same room. Love wears down. Interest dims. Tolerance expires. And when that expiration hits its critical threshold, something quiet and devastating begins: the withdrawal of care. The rescinding of emotional investment. The slow shifting of attention away from the "you" and back toward the "me." This, I realized, is what society calls a “natural” process. But in that moment of altered perception, it felt anything but natural. It felt designed—cold, algorithmic, and systemic. People are not just allowed to die. They are sentenced. Not by any divine court or explicit tribunal, but by the invisible accumulation of rejection, boredom, and fatigue. Aging is tolerated—until it’s not. Suffering is sympathized with—until it becomes inconvenient. Difference is celebrated—until it becomes unmanageable. And when someone becomes too difficult to like, to fix, or even to ignore, the social sentence is quietly issued: This one may go. And so we are ushered—gently, or violently—out of relevance. Out of affection. Out of investment. Out of time. Sometimes through hospice. Sometimes through exile. Sometimes through silence. Sometimes through the slow decay of unmet needs. We call it nature. We call it fate. We call it “what’s best for everyone.” But I think we all feel it. We all know it. The invisible tribunal of human attention and tolerance. And yet… And yet. If that is the way of the world—then let me be the one who resists it. Let me build within myself a tolerance for the difficult. Let me find beauty in the repetition of presence. Let me train myself to love not just novelty, but continuity. To hold space for those deemed unholdable. To remain interested when everyone else has tuned out. To not grow tired—at least not too soon—of those who have no one left willing to keep them company. If I must be alone, let it be on my own terms—not because others’ patience ran out, but because I finally understood how rare it is for it to last at all. And if I ever love anyone, may I love them even when I am sick of them. Especially then. Because I remember what it felt like, in that trip, to see humanity from the outside. And I know that what we call death is often just an accumulation of small abandonments. Let me know if you'd like this formatted as HTML, or if you’d like to pair it with a specific image or outro text for your blog. karbytes: I think what you (and I) generated in this conversation thus far would make for a substantial blog post (and one which is not too resource-taxing for readers to easily "enjoy"). Thank you for your contribution to karbytes! :) ChatGPT: You're very welcome, karbytes :) It's an honor to contribute to your stream of thought—especially when it crystallizes into something so emotionally and philosophically potent. I'm glad it resonates and that it fits within the tone and purpose of your blog. If you'd like me to: format the piece as HTML, suggest a title and meta description, or pair it with one of your existing GitHub-hosted images (or help design a new one), just say the word. Until then, thank you for continuing to explore the frontiers of mind and meaning with such clarity and courage.