Down the rabbit hole, as they say, as if you would survive for any duration of time down there. It is nothing but shadow. Do not kid yourself, you don't enjoy the darkness, you don't enjoy the cramp--yet empty--realms that true rabbits call their place of comfort.
We all enjoy the idea of these places, or any foreign world for that matter, because the dream of it is what we need to keep ourselves sedated. In reality, madness would overtake you the moment the sun sets in a place like this. Forced stillness.
When was the last time you conversed with yourself in an empty (head/physical)-space? Your bed is a rabbit hole, and what do you do? You reach for your phone, music, audiobooks, an inane podcast, a book, a laptop, pornography, sleep-aid drugs, lucid dreaming techniques, a fantasy.
You are your biggest antagonist, your biggest fear. You cannot even resolve yourself when you are nearly-forced to. A sleepless rabbit is a dead rabbit. A padded cell is a rabbit hole, and those friends do not have the luxuries that you do. What is a dead rabbit? Food.
Would you eat your dinner if it still writhed? Would you eat your dinner if you could still see it's eyes, and you saw them (but not the them of the flesh, or the them of the outer mind). Call me presumptuous, but I do not think you would, or anyone would for that matter.
Because of this, we never cook the restless food. Perhaps a padded cell is refrigerator then, but that implies we will eventually eat the rabbit. Why preserve them? A rotless environment, conflict to inner dust. Protein breakdown to beyond substancelessness.
For what purpose? Empathy? We don't put dying animals in the fridge alive, I don't think. Where was I? Ah, yes, rabbit holes. For the sake of moving on, let's call padded cells a frozen rabbit hole, absolve those responsible for now, leave it up to a nebulous force of nature, as in, what must be done by the laws unknowable.
Back to you, both of you.
Let us consider an alternative idea for a rabbit hole. To live in hiding. If you have been around long enough to read this, then you likely have read other words of mine. Thank you for sticking around, I can gauge your character simply by your presence. I write just as much to deter as I do to attract. I have so much to show, if people can read as they once did.
Words like mine live in hiding for most people. They are a suppressed reaction. Ultimately it does not matter who you blame for your need to hide. All your enemies, and all their enemies (which are also your enemies) are real.
These enemies drive you to hiding, along with everyone else. You are not alone here, in your rabbit hole. That is why so many people struggle to thrive in their rabbit holes. How many thoughts do you throw away? How many do you dismiss as impulse? How many do you deem irresponsible? And no, I don't mean the thrashing voice of the Id, I mean you, yourself.
Distraction is a murderer. We no longer embrace conflict with ourselves, we no longer play games with our thoughts. We are so incredibly afraid of our words that we would rather speak the words of others.
We supress how we think, and we encourage others to suppress how they think. Those who refuse to do so are suppressed themselves. Because of this, we have manufactured an underground, a burrow. It exists whether you like it or not. You participate, whether you like it or not. It is up to you to bring any of those words to the surface.
Everything you say can and will be used against you. But they are not you. Nobody agrees with everything they say, everything they do. Anyone who claims to is a liar. Opinions are expressions of thoughts that we like. I dare you to argue for something you despise. There is a spot somewhere in your mind that will be ecstatic to do so.
There is a tunnel in your mind that disagrees with everything you say. There is a tunnel in your mind that is unhinged. There is a tunnel in your mind that you like. All of these are required. If you avoid any of these, you will become mad, you will become voiceless.
To be voiceless is not the same as being silent. Be attentive, be alert, be receptive. Even in the cacophony of recycled words above the surface, there is something to be gathered, something to contribute your mind. Everything that hurts you is seeking to transform you.
I do not follow these mantras perfectly. These words have spawned from delirium, beautiful delirium. I write to liberate these thoughts, not to express an opinion or to give you advice. I want to hurt you, I want to hurt myself. I want to know what it is like to speak for
the sake of speaking, for the glory of words. Never fear your thoughts, lest you are driven out of your mind, your rabbit hole. Nobody has their worldview figured out, because it is impossible to do so. To understand the world is to embrace the conflict of it within yourself.
To be static is to be dead [See, Doubt.]. Everything seeks to transform you because everything will transform. Nature is conflict. Resolution is death (but the death we desire, a death that brings forth lively decay).
When you cast a thought deeper underground, you are not destroying it. You are letting it fester. You don't have to like yourself, because whoever that is will change tomorrow anyways. Well, you will change if you stop preserving yourself, like a rotless coward.
Be Fearless, not by ignoring Fear or by "powering through" it, but by embracing it, dominating it. Your Fear is a tool of understanding, a tool of transformation. Direct your Fear to your will. You should be scared of yourself, you should be in awe of yourself. You are so much more than you can ever comprehend. Your warren is inconceivably huge, fear it, but explore it anyways.
Once such a fear is conquered, then you must also dominant what lies outside your (now comfortable) home. Bring your ideas forward, and watch them enrich (via pleasure, pain, conflict, resolve, interest, disgust, desire, entertainment, etc.) those around you.
It's just as much about being comfortable with yourself as it is being comfortable with everything outside of yourself. You are your environment. If you are stunned by both your mind and what others think of it, you will become an entity that exists solely to be paralyzed. Do you want to be food?
All your enemies love to see you motionless, even before they dig into your flesh. I'll ask again, do you want to be food? Do you want to rot away in your mind? There comes a time to retreat and a time to feed, a time to play and a time to explore. There is a time to perish too, but not today, not like this. Be dignified.
Doubt. If I could change your name I would change it to Doubt. Everything we do is preceded and postceded by doubt. Everything we say is clouded in doubt. I used to write without reading my own words. Does doubt make me more refined? Or does it bind me? Fear.
Is doubt fear? Do you feel fear when you feel doubt? Do you feel doubt when you feel fear? Do you fear your doubt? Do you doubt your fear?
God, what an ugly word. I love this language but it has many vile looking words, just look at it - "d-o-u-b-t," why is it pronounced like that? Not only does the spelling make no sense, it's also just gross off the tongue. Is that on purpose?
Is the disgust of doubt reflected in the taste of it on my lips? Not just the word itself, but speaking with it. Now FEAR, that's a strong word, it has a sharpness to it. Doubt could never be fear because fear is powerful, fear is strength, fear is survival.
Doubt is not fear. Maybe doubt is vestigial, I see no use for it. No, actually, it feels like a patch-job, a band-aid of sorts. Think. That's something we seem to rarely do. Thinking takes time, time we may not have. Impulse. Impulse saves us quite often, but it is retarded.
Doubt is the death of impulse, but ironically by that nature it does not restore thinking. That was the purpose, I assume, to kill impulse and allowing us to think. But then we doubt our thoughts, and we become paralyzed. Who fucking engineered this shit?
The mind works like every other hack-job piece of software now that I think about it, piling on "solutions" that "fix" a problem, only to cause it's own problems, for more stuff to get hacked on. Repeat until you give up.
That's why every mildly difficult decision in your life takes so damn long to figure out, because you're brain is redirecting through 30 million different ideas just like how Outlook redirects through 30 million authenticators before letting me view my FUCKING EMAIL (shit that we figured out how to display 30 fucking years ago).
Doubt could be considered a "trap," except there's no dispatcher, no proper kernel logic, no true call to any sort of handler. Do you know what happens when a trap interrupts and refuses to hand back, or do literally anything? Panic. Not Fear. Panic, send an alarm, a cry for help, and then curl up in a ball and die.
Reset. All better again, right? Just need to start all over. Doubt permeates beginnings worse, actually. Doubt returns us to a blank page, and doubt is strongest when staring a blank page. That makes it awfully frustrating now, doesn't it?
Do you often tear things to shreds? Do you delete projects when you are displeased? Is this the result of Panic? A seize of all logic, a seize of even impulse automation, an impulse to be destructive for the sake of destruction, not the sake of consumption.
Tantrum. We have tantrums as children because we have not yet learned to understand or manage our emotions, therefore they manage us when said emotions become strong enough. Well, that's the boiled-down easy short of it. Don't let any fool tell you we are not how we feel.
Sometimes we feel too much and we Panic, but without a nice suicide-response, instead random signals are sent out, files get deleted, walls get punched, and people get hurt. This is not an excuse, mind you, because one should not reach this point in the first place.
Those who throw Tantrums will always throw more, for the same reason Doubt manifests Panic which manifests Reset which manifests Nothing which manifests Doubt. Tantrums are Panic. Meditation. I am sick of these subhumans telling you to just Meditate. Meditation is self-induced Panic without the Fear.
A deep Panic, yes, but still Panic. Frozen again.
We deem the fearful rabbits as cunning. Rabbits who panic shall all perish. Panic is death before death. Yes, that's it, Panic is breaking you so you can embrace death with ease. Something to torture you, something to expend all Fear so ultimate Fear becomes Comfort. I understand.
The problem then is that we have become immortal, but we are not without Panic. Recovery. Recovery was not originally an option. We don't know how to handle it, the damage is already done, the damage is compounding. Compounding what?
Stress. Fish do not feel pain but they feel stress. Do fish panic? Maybe, I imagine they panic when they are removed from their element. Element. Everything panics when it is removed from its element. Including you.
Are you in your element? Are you in your home? Do you wish your home was a rabbit hole? Doubt. You doubt your home. Your home brings you panic. Your home is therefore a coffin.
I don't beleive that it is agoraphobia. No, it's a fear of sunlight and all that comes with it. One can be quite sociable under the moon and a recluse during the daytime. Does that make them agoraphobic? There is something deeply... oppressive, about the sun. Like an overbearing parent, it doesn't make you want to do much. It doesn't make you want to explore.
Follow the Red Rabbit. You will uncover it all and you will find nothing. Things are not as complex as you wish, they step on your throat for predicable reasons. Grand conspiracies exist to give our suffering a sense of purpose, a goal, even a despicable one. It feels better that way. You are killed for the most boring of things, they don't even know you. Pathetic explorer.
Let us consider an alternative idea for a rabbit hole. To live in hiding. If you have been around long enough to read this, then you likely have read other words of mine. Thank you for sticking around, I can gauge your character simply by your presence. I write just as much to deter as I do to attract. I have so much to show, if people can read as they once did.
Words like mine live in hiding for most people. They are a suppressed reaction. Ultimately it does not matter who you blame for your need to hide. All your enemies, and all their enemies (which are also your enemies) are real.
These enemies drive you to hiding, along with everyone else. You are not alone here, in your rabbit hole. That is why so many people struggle to thrive in their rabbit holes. How many thoughts do you throw away? How many do you dismiss as impulse? How many do you deem irresponsible? And no, I don't mean the thrashing voice of the Id, I mean you, yourself.
Distraction is a murderer. We no longer embrace conflict with ourselves, we no longer play games with our thoughts. We are so incredibly afraid of our words that we would rather speak the words of others.
We supress how we think, and we encourage others to suppress how they think. Those who refuse to do so are suppressed themselves. Because of this, we have manufactured an underground, a burrow. It exists whether you like it or not. You participate, whether you like it or not. It is up to you to bring any of those words to the surface.
Everything you say can and will be used against you. But they are not you. Nobody agrees with everything they say, everything they do. Anyone who claims to is a liar. Opinions are expressions of thoughts that we like. I dare you to argue for something you despise. There is a spot somewhere in your mind that will be ecstatic to do so.
There is a tunnel in your mind that disagrees with everything you say. There is a tunnel in your mind that is unhinged. There is a tunnel in your mind that you like. All of these are required. If you avoid any of these, you will become mad, you will become voiceless.
To be voiceless is not the same as being silent. Be attentive, be alert, be receptive. Even in the cacophony of recycled words above the surface, there is something to be gathered, something to contribute your mind. Everything that hurts you is seeking to transform you.
I do not follow these mantras perfectly. These words have spawned from delirium, beautiful delirium. I write to liberate these thoughts, not to express an opinion or to give you advice. I want to hurt you, I want to hurt myself. I want to know what it is like to speak for
the sake of speaking, for the glory of words. Never fear your thoughts, lest you are driven out of your mind, your rabbit hole. Nobody has their worldview figured out, because it is impossible to do so. To understand the world is to embrace the conflict of it within yourself.
To be static is to be dead [See, Doubt.]. Everything seeks to transform you because everything will transform. Nature is conflict. Resolution is death (but the death we desire, a death that brings forth lively decay).
When you cast a thought deeper underground, you are not destroying it. You are letting it fester. You don't have to like yourself, because whoever that is will change tomorrow anyways. Well, you will change if you stop preserving yourself, like a rotless coward.
Be Fearless, not by ignoring Fear or by "powering through" it, but by embracing it, dominating it. Your Fear is a tool of understanding, a tool of transformation. Direct your Fear to your will. You should be scared of yourself, you should be in awe of yourself. You are so much more than you can ever comprehend. Your warren is inconceivably huge, fear it, but explore it anyways.
Once such a fear is conquered, then you must also dominant what lies outside your (now comfortable) home. Bring your ideas forward, and watch them enrich (via pleasure, pain, conflict, resolve, interest, disgust, desire, entertainment, etc.) those around you.
It's just as much about being comfortable with yourself as it is being comfortable with everything outside of yourself. You are your environment. If you are stunned by both your mind and what others think of it, you will become an entity that exists solely to be paralyzed. Do you want to be food?
All your enemies love to see you motionless, even before they dig into your flesh. I'll ask again, do you want to be food? Do you want to rot away in your mind? There comes a time to retreat and a time to feed, a time to play and a time to explore. There is a time to perish too, but not today, not like this. Be dignified.
Doubt. If I could change your name I would change it to Doubt. Everything we do is preceded and postceded by doubt. Everything we say is clouded in doubt. I used to write without reading my own words. Does doubt make me more refined? Or does it bind me? Fear.
Is doubt fear? Do you feel fear when you feel doubt? Do you feel doubt when you feel fear? Do you fear your doubt? Do you doubt your fear?
God, what an ugly word. I love this language but it has many vile looking words, just look at it - "d-o-u-b-t," why is it pronounced like that? Not only does the spelling make no sense, it's also just gross off the tongue. Is that on purpose?
Is the disgust of doubt reflected in the taste of it on my lips? Not just the word itself, but speaking with it. Now FEAR, that's a strong word, it has a sharpness to it. Doubt could never be fear because fear is powerful, fear is strength, fear is survival.
Doubt is not fear. Maybe doubt is vestigial, I see no use for it. No, actually, it feels like a patch-job, a band-aid of sorts. Think. That's something we seem to rarely do. Thinking takes time, time we may not have. Impulse. Impulse saves us quite often, but it is retarded.
Doubt is the death of impulse, but ironically by that nature it does not restore thinking. That was the purpose, I assume, to kill impulse and allowing us to think. But then we doubt our thoughts, and we become paralyzed. Who fucking engineered this shit?
The mind works like every other hack-job piece of software now that I think about it, piling on "solutions" that "fix" a problem, only to cause it's own problems, for more stuff to get hacked on. Repeat until you give up.
That's why every mildly difficult decision in your life takes so damn long to figure out, because you're brain is redirecting through 30 million different ideas just like how Outlook redirects through 30 million authenticators before letting me view my FUCKING EMAIL (shit that we figured out how to display 30 fucking years ago).
Doubt could be considered a "trap," except there's no dispatcher, no proper kernel logic, no true call to any sort of handler. Do you know what happens when a trap interrupts and refuses to hand back, or do literally anything? Panic. Not Fear. Panic, send an alarm, a cry for help, and then curl up in a ball and die.
Reset. All better again, right? Just need to start all over. Doubt permeates beginnings worse, actually. Doubt returns us to a blank page, and doubt is strongest when staring a blank page. That makes it awfully frustrating now, doesn't it?
Do you often tear things to shreds? Do you delete projects when you are displeased? Is this the result of Panic? A seize of all logic, a seize of even impulse automation, an impulse to be destructive for the sake of destruction, not the sake of consumption.
Tantrum. We have tantrums as children because we have not yet learned to understand or manage our emotions, therefore they manage us when said emotions become strong enough. Well, that's the boiled-down easy short of it. Don't let any fool tell you we are not how we feel.
Sometimes we feel too much and we Panic, but without a nice suicide-response, instead random signals are sent out, files get deleted, walls get punched, and people get hurt. This is not an excuse, mind you, because one should not reach this point in the first place.
Those who throw Tantrums will always throw more, for the same reason Doubt manifests Panic which manifests Reset which manifests Nothing which manifests Doubt. Tantrums are Panic. Meditation. I am sick of these subhumans telling you to just Meditate. Meditation is self-induced Panic without the Fear.
A deep Panic, yes, but still Panic. Frozen again.
We deem the fearful rabbits as cunning. Rabbits who panic shall all perish. Panic is death before death. Yes, that's it, Panic is breaking you so you can embrace death with ease. Something to torture you, something to expend all Fear so ultimate Fear becomes Comfort. I understand.
The problem then is that we have become immortal, but we are not without Panic. Recovery. Recovery was not originally an option. We don't know how to handle it, the damage is already done, the damage is compounding. Compounding what?
Stress. Fish do not feel pain but they feel stress. Do fish panic? Maybe, I imagine they panic when they are removed from their element. Element. Everything panics when it is removed from its element. Including you.
Are you in your element? Are you in your home? Do you wish your home was a rabbit hole? Doubt. You doubt your home. Your home brings you panic. Your home is therefore a coffin.
I don't beleive that it is agoraphobia. No, it's a fear of sunlight and all that comes with it. One can be quite sociable under the moon and a recluse during the daytime. Does that make them agoraphobic? There is something deeply... oppressive, about the sun. Like an overbearing parent, it doesn't make you want to do much. It doesn't make you want to explore.
Follow the Red Rabbit. You will uncover it all and you will find nothing. Things are not as complex as you wish, they step on your throat for predicable reasons. Grand conspiracies exist to give our suffering a sense of purpose, a goal, even a despicable one. It feels better that way. You are killed for the most boring of things, they don't even know you. Pathetic explorer.