Deep Emotional Repression and Processing Dysregulation: Foreword by Kit Carruthers

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This one is one in eight million. It is an intense flood of emotion at everything, you never see one drop of it. You are flatlined so beyond the limits of schizoid, my schizoid makes no difference for me in terms of level of emotion these things cannot compound. You automatically see straight to the very bottom of everyone, know somebody for a month you understand them to their bottom. It basically leaves you in the middle of a deadened apocalyptic wasteland of everybody's off the wall stupidity to the point that nobody who's certain types of stupid could ever possibly mean any more to you than the streetlights or the garbage cans or an individual rock on an unknown planet on the other side of our galaxy. This is not a sad scowl, no, not at all, nobody is sad for you, nobody is sad for ourselves. It generally goes straight to ego games why by the age of nine, okay off you go, this is very serious business I can see you are a professional this looks like a very fun life. You do see right to the bottom of people's sad patheticness but you don't really give a shit about it you've got no ego investment to eat it with, the only thing that really resonates with you is people's stupid patheticness. If you figure it out, you can learn to call it and release it and whenever you feel appropriate you can produce a scene from Shakespeare and then immediately drop every aspect of this emotion and return to your flattened baseline. Obviously, it does wonderful things for you as an artist. If you're one of us you pretty much need to find the underground art scene, hopefully you also came with a gift. You know you feel no drive to be famous whatsoever. You just know it would be pretty neat.

Art can really obliterate you with this condition, you meet a proper artistic expression all you want to do is find it on YouTube and watch it over and over and over and cry for a week.

The ego battle thing, I personally only associated with people who seemed reasonable to me, however by age four I was still getting a lot of it in my face when I'm trying to converse with people who are reasonable to me, and so I established the system at four. Then at six, the first time I see a child walk up to another child they don't even know and absolutely out of nowhere start going "YER..." Was when I entered... What the what the what the fucking hell broken nonsense what what what the fuck what the fuck what the fucking hell what. What the fucking hell is this demented nonsense life, why on Earth would this person... Even... What the fuck is your life what the fuck is your interaction what the fuck is your purpose. All cognitive functioning level three children go to similar places, but, mine was out of this world... OKAY, enter... The state. The state of complete and total emotional dissociation. Just watch them doopy doopy doop around their life and occasionally giggle internally over how seriously these people take these things take their life. This was when all of them got the hard cut off and they no longer even really existed within the same framework of reality as myself or the others of level three cognitive functioning, I didn't step outside of it they stepped outside of it, they became pointless inhuman objects all the way to the bottom of basically I'm pretty sure they don't have a soul.

Every little thing, every little spark moment that would ever incur emotion, you get the maximum and three times more emotion than the human brain would ever be capable of producing in normal circumstances, it bypasses all conscious, all semi-conscious, all the way to fully bypassing the subconscious. No aspect of your thinking touches this emotion whatsoever, it just flies right into deep compartmentalization, a place underneath the subconscious no other type of mind besides fully customizable compartmentalization can possess, and collects and stays there forever. Seen only by the unconscious. And so it isn't even really emotion. It's some really biocomputer shit. It is an entirely fucked up hacked operating system. The file type labeled sadness or anger but most certainly not happiness, ctrl+c, ctrl+v ctrl+v, zip, mark as hidden.

"So you could say... Deep down, then, you do feel something." No not really. "On a really really deep level, though, deep inside of you, you do feel it." No, no I don't. "But it's... There. Deep inside of you there is intense levels of emotion." Yeah it's there. Deep inside of me there is intense levels of emotion, I don't feel... Any of it. Never. No matter what happens to me, I know this is when I'm supposed to feel the emotion, I know it feels really great to release this emotion. I'm not inside of this emotion. Even without my sociopath I would not be in this emotion, sociopath doesn't really make any difference they're basically equal they do the same thing when it comes to feeling the emotion in the moments you are expressing the emotion these things cannot compound. I do have a higher option of control, however.

This doesn't mean that I am, like, completely flat and then fully deliberate spark, but, it's pretty much close enough to that. The normal level of interaction, it's similar in some ways, I'm kind of almost feeling emotion at the normal level of interaction, sorta. It's... Pretty much always a deliberate click point, if I don't want to show my emotion it's very unlikely it would come out involuntarily, if it does come out involuntarily it's an incredibly muted little passion moment, at which point I have to roll with it you probably end up getting full passion or else I look a little ridiculous, revealing that what I am doing at all times is deliberately hiding my passion in order to maintain Ben Stein with cool hair. Any time I deliberately emote for expression am I ironically mocking the entire concept of showing any expression? NO. Yes. Sorta. No not really. If you're getting full passion it's basically entirely deliberate. And... The emotion is known, I'm never going to give you false emotion, if I can bring out the passion it's because there is a passion.

Care, with schizoid is obviously already muted, by adulthood with deep emotional repression and processing dysregulation it is nearly declared final, it's pretty much only a logical acknowledgement, you think you're introspective you think you understand, which you do, but something is going missing. You lose a lot of your feelings, you lose a lot of your love, it's pretty similar to sociopath however it goes a little deeper. It means even if I love somebody the deepest of deepest I am still capable of going all the way to the bottom of making them slit their throat to my words and giggling about it if that is what needs to happen. I just logically know it can't happen.

After too much life, you can get lost, a little. Particularly after the life of isolation that you deserve. It begins to give you a deeper wall of not care about the people with whom you care. You know on your side of the wall you have more than a superficial care, on their side of the wall you have more than a superficial object to whom you care. But, because you know the world only wishes to hurt, for some reason you develop the wall of please don't hurt me at people you don't even want to hurt. Now, you still don't fucking care about the world you only care about your job, but the logical acknowledgement of who is cared about and who is not cared about becomes more clear. This wall was for those people, not for these people, this subsection of people within those people can have a bit of actual care, a bit, fine, I guess, I didn't realize they didn't before, I still kind of blurred them but I logically cared, okay fine I guess it actually matters, I didn't realize it didn't. This subsection of people within those people meet the same acknowledgement, but, they meet it more comfortably, it's pretty much the same. Now your care for those within the logical acknowledgement of care comes with a bit of sadness over what you're capable of doing to people. It doesn't mean you don't stand by what you've done... You're talking about the wall. You're sad about the wall. You're sad you used to make them gone and neither you nor them even really realized. You feel the same way, you're capable of doing whatever you want to whoever you want, if you need to make a loved one slit their throat I guess that's what's happening. But. Now you actually feel it in your heart that you logically know it can't happen.

Trust, from the beginning of the condition, is basically eliminated as a concept. I never trust anybody or distrust anybody in the sense of an emotional reach. I simply have logical analysis of their character that doesn't really so much touch the level of character, it's just... Is this person capable of this kind of thing, if this situation occurs would my psychoanalysis skills deem this person useable or dangerous. When it gets to the point of in love to the purest, obviously that means my psychoanalysis abilities have declared this person would never hurt me in a way I cannot like or tolerate. This makes me untouchable, at this point in my life if they ever think they could tear into my personhood in a manner that would resonate obviously that declares this person false so they know if they have any urge to try it isn't going to work out for them. If it turns out, at this level of analysis, that I have made a mistake, that means the brain is broken, that means the world is broken, that means I need out of reincarnation, that means everybody needs out of reincarnation, that means everything is coming to an end. So keep all of this in mind, Aria Wellington. After a life of isolation you feel this one too, you lose a little too significantly the feeling of connection, known connection established. These people don't float into the blur of meaningless humanity, but you lost sight of the fact that what you feel pretty much still declares you human, pretty much.

It's the first few known connections established where something goes wrong outside your head, a misinterpretation happens outside your head that hits the known connections and then gives you a misinterpretation of what happened. That's the one that does it to you. That's the one that either drives you to murder suicide or hold in the murder suicide and develop a certain damaged genius.

And yes, it is a screaming and crying get me out of reincarnation moment, everything in your brain becomes a static snap, a halt, reality is broken, you spasm around the room screaming for half a second and then it halts, you start crying for half a second and then it halts, angry at the fact that you don't seem to be allowed to have a heart attack and die. As the horrified and confused stoic evil shadow that brings you the misinterpretation has to repress what she's seeing because it goes beyond all limits of too much. She knows in this moment it couldn't possibly be what she thinks it is, because this can't happen, and this has to disappear. And then Alison has to deal with "I killed the anticwist?" and I have to get taken to the emergency room and pumped full of sedatives, then again, then it all goes away and I'm awake three days later. Being told I died three times in my sleep and then mysteriously became jolted alive. My parents had to not be there, because what was happening within my brain activity was too much... Everything is being condensed down to zero and then jolting right back and then down to zero and then right back and then down to zero and then right back. Not the standard death zero, just, off on off on off on off on off on off on off on off on.

By fifty three you are done. Before this point, absolutely fine nothing wrong with your thinking whatsoever, your brain can handle everything just fine right up until the point it clicks into the overload. You immediately fall into a delusional hallucinatory dream world of delirious abstractions. Even if society somehow allowed me to see that I assure you I would never allow you to see that. You don't have to worry about the dangers, nobody's following those orders, even if they would they wouldn't know how. If you figure out what the condition is and learn, likely with drugs, that what you're supposed to do is release this emotion, you may be able to extract another few years out of it.

Besides of course my experience with JaSVT!mie Graham, the best example of how it's difficult for me to tell that what I am is an emotional being was when my paternal grandmother died when I was twelve, only eight months after my paternal grandfather had died. No it wasn't quite as loving as you think it was probably more of an... Alright I think I've made my point I'm done. No funeral for you, just a small family service. I guess the family will just think it is what it is within my psychotic delusional rampage, which it is, I'm pretty sure Norm would return it in the same manner within his psychotic delusional rampage. I don't think you would want a funeral anyway, that was just due to the expectation. I'm pretty sure we declare forever, I'll see you in the next one, I'm out. It didn't seem like I needed to do anything with it, I get it, I understand what happens, at some point I'll probably want to cry but I mean I can do it later I can just carry on and go to school. My band teacher was a little flummoxed, she told me it's okay to go home if I want to I don't need to be here. Likely assuming I have some sort of horrible repression condition. I just said "No I'm fine" and carried on. Thinking no this basically feels exactly the same as any other day. As it was, I was fine, carried on, fine, went home. It did take me too long to find the cry, but, after about a month I found the cry. However I did not realize aspects of this cry remained until I was twenty, looking at the flowers I had bought for my new apartment on 2C-I after furnishing it with the twenty thousand dollars my grandmother had left me that I was not allowed to touch until I was twenty, I bought violets because they were low light flowers, I clued into they were my grandmother's favourite flowers, I clued into a lot of very complicated relationship aspects between myself and my grandmother and my grandfather, a lot of "I love my grandson but I'm fucking sick of children I'm just going to play a game of ironic thinking with him he'll get it when he's an adult. Oh your mother stopped making you go to church did she? That's a shame, you used to be a good boy..." My mother was still an atheist, she just missed the community. She called it learning experience. At this point it was too late to really cry, but, I got a little. Obviously I would never reveal the "feels the same as any other day" line of thinking to the other children as it would create the perfect opposite confirmation in our little opposite war on darkness. They would giggle hysterically at it because I'm a sad sack while I just stare at them and hurr. I'd have no way out of it, there's no way to insert within the minds of these children the correct explanation. It's... Their in happy bubbly psychosis giggling hysterically at anybody would ever be within anything but boring happy bubbly where all the normal is. I'm just... I don't care it's darkness, I like darkness, I can actually find the darkness itself very funny. What's funny is your darkness, you are all within a very very deep hysterical darkness.

This condition natural makes you a dark person, naturally makes you look like a sad person, naturally clues you into the nature of ego games. Luckily it makes everything within your perception a haze of stupid to which you are entirely indifferent to otherwise you would be in a lot of social trouble if you ever spoke your feelings at any of these kids. I learned on the internet to pretty much mellow all of my anger at the idiots all the way into total repression, all the way to disappears, no, all the way to not caring, however I would still get the physiological sensations in my arms when engaging with idiots, I learned it's "You challenge ME?" I figured out how to get rid of it. Most of you can't do it, it says nothing towards your confidence.

I like the depressing darkness I think it's very pretty. It does not take somebody with my condition to like the depressing darkness it's pretty, three quarters of the planet likes the depressing darkness it's pretty. I am laughing at you for thinking this is something serious while you laugh and cry at people like us for thinking it's okay to be sad. If anybody ever tried to bring this up at any of you people you would laugh in our face you're so obviously the winner of this one look at all you sad sacks you're laughing at ME for laughing at you for thinking it's okay to be sad. Aw sad Rob listens to Radiohead that's HILARIOUS, not like me I'm a happy go lucky guy I listen to angry dad rock. Intolerable angry dad rock, angry guitar wanking non musical nothing dad rock stop telling me to listen to this. You did have the correct appropriation of my mother, though "Hi Rob's mom!" *sad angry scowl flash* Your random was lazy. You became my internal mortal enemy for internal comedic purposes in grade ten after your answer to one of the teacher's questions was "Spatula!" because you found Strong Bad on the internet and sexy Avril Lavigne looking cognitive functioning level three chick kept giggling at it. Sexy Avril Lavigne looking cognitive functioning level three chick liked my Amnesiac shirt. It's okay you didn't know it was because he watched Strong Bad, but yes you would be better off with me was part of the internal comedy routine and I meant it. I was an internet nerd I had more information. I think I'll give you like fourth highest high school crush. She didn't like being called Avril Lavigne. Ah you were okay Strong Bad, by late high school you were entering my perception reasonably clean. Keep my internal declaration for internal fun purposes... Ah. Nah. Whatever. You're no Strong Bad, Strong Bad. Stop being Strong Bad Strong Bad. I heard you used to have a personality. Then it became Strong Bad. HAH. Ha...Ha? Haha? "He was funnier before he found Strong Bad and it became his entire personality." Yeah, you knew that was all that needed to be said. Something about you feels like a fascist when you say that, though, I guess you two used to penis diddle or something. It's funny though. I think it now it's the realization that you two shared a bizarre psychosis together. Similar concept, in my head, that's weird.

I would get moments of "I don't like you" that were really annoying, they would get a genuine "Alright." If I have caused an "I don't like you" I don't like you either you obviously just met my wrath and that's why you said that. But then they would try to ego eat me all "I know you're cracking under there I know you need me to like you. Let me feel it. Let me feel your sadness. You've lost a person's like." If I wish for a person's like I assure you I get a person's like. In my first year of university I figured I could now use this to attain the popularity I've wanted, but, none of the people around me are worth being popular with, I figured university was my moment. So I went a little agoraphobic instead as I started to drive into my past history wondering why my mind is capable of this it's becoming concerning. Also my system of let people come to me trying to approach others seems too needy kind of broke down. Oh well. I learned some things. Also it was clearly my karma for the betrayal of Dane Marshell when you go looking at the dramatic levels of isolation.

"Oh yeah why don't you go float on yourself over not caring present confident to hide your inner self loathing so you can float on yourself because that's the only reason anybody ever presents confident is to float on themselves say smart things just so you can float on yourself oh yeah just watch me float on myself just so you can float on yourself over never floating on yourself. Oh yeah make fun of yourself so you can float on yourself as a person who makes fun of himself and doesn't look like he's floating on himself. Make fun of yourself to protect your precious ego your precious precious ego I know you're so invested in, AAH!? AHH!?!"

"The only reason anybody would ever tear into somebody's ego is to serve their big ego you have a big ego Mr. big ego head not like me I have no ego whatsoever I only ever validate people and they love me for it I'm always offering my help and people love me for it and I believe in the lord Jesus Christ and people love me for it and I write poems about god and people love me for it and also people love me and my dogs and they love my family and they love me Mr. big ego head so what do you think of that Mr. big ego head. This isn't how you get people's love Mr. big ego head nobody's ever going to love you Mr. big ego head."

I first met the internet move of reverting to the state of floating on yourself when you get attacked by an... edgelord when I was thirteen, he told me one day I would look back on this post and cringe at myself. I did remember it awhile later and looked back on it and... AH, fuck this guy was kind of right dammit hold on I need to piece this together. Okay no, I was new to being able to do this AT the person it was super fun to just unleash, yeah there's some unrelated childhood angst in here I hadn't quite arranged my thinking into fair yet he may not have deserved this much, the level of high on myself doesn't... QUITE match the level of funny, it's pretty close but it isn't quite perfected yet, no none of this is perfected yet stupid thirteen year old me posts I hate having a running catalogue of all the shit that comes out of thirteen year old me. Oh but, no, okay, no, he's talking about... One day I'll turn to the light of being a happy float, it's the natural evolution of all of you people, you give up on your ways and accept that it's wrong to ever hurt anybody overtly you clean up all of your edge that's how you attain maturity, I'm in my twenties and so I know how to behave when my ego becomes penetrated by a child. This was back when I wanted to attack ALL stupid at the same level, no there's the casual humour attack of this type of stupid and the level I gave this guy is for the ego stupid, the level I gave him is for when the dumb attack the smart entirely unprovoked and then float on themselves. Also there's the leave it who cares stupid which I think this guy was claiming for his ego but no this was not leave it who cares stupid. I believe there was even a certain confident smugness. YES it was a stupid thing to make a big thing over but I'm not the one who made it a big thing you're the one who made it a big thing. It's possible I did a funny little semi-conscious compartmentalization move on this one. Wait no this guy's right this level of mockery is for what comes out of these people when I begin mocking not initially.

High school would say oh he's like an internet flamer he gets his nerd angst out on these people but this is at us. I would say... Sorta. But not exactly. It's mostly just I keep trying to have discussions with my kind of people and I keep getting interrupted by what you people do on the internet when they develop nerd angst. I'm not thinking about you people when I do this or anything but I am thinking yes yes this kind of functioning. I did learn here that rich kid high school makes my type of functioning develop a pretty serious ego investment problem and basically become you people with better words. I don't even think any of you people can see it, you gave into it too much earlier on in childhood. The one from the Vulnerability Intolerance and Inhibition story, Kim, was not ego invested, she's safe. Or, well, even safer now that she appears to have mellowed herself for standard family life. NO I did not want to jab at you I still love you it just presented itself. Safe. Safe in Brandon. No it's pretty easy enough to see what's happening here you're probably not overly mellowed at him, just, why did you ever, that guy looks like a bigger weiner than me in the... I didn't want to do a forced recovery it just presented itself again. Apparently my words will just let me do whatever I want. I think that's the same thing I said last time, that must be the format. I also learned just how much stupider and less sophisticated things become, I already thought they were pretty stupid and unsophisticated, when you leave a more urban environment high school and enter a more rural environment high school. I also learned when a community is more isolated it can really lose itself in it's watched the American channels as a child problem. I knew I couldn't open my mouth on what you do to the poor kid high school, it was basically just I wish I ended up there. This house but that high school. I knew the only thing that would be spoken is "Oh cush is likes want be hardcore." and I would be THINKING... Yes, a different kind of yes, but yes. No not... My inner hardcore. No, I want... I want not this. My inner hardcore will just have to sit there for now. I couldn't really use it there either but maybe I'd learn something for later. I don't get to say it. So I can't bring it up. It becomes the giggling menace of "Nersh harsh... ...core... c-cOOOrrre...? ...Sla... SLAAA... ... ... SLAYA!! Sa-sad... sad slaya'." "It's more of a natural scowl." "An-ang-angry slaya." "There you go." I know to some of you it's most certainly still "Ners...d... core. Core." You saw my Facebook photo 20 years ago and you're still going "And noooww... Hee... Think he... ... Get. Simpress. Popoowar. Kids. Even. ... ... ... Th-though. Wsnerd. Boysh... Wish... I could... Just... Go... Ovrr... Orv... Orv... Telmn... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... H-... ... ... H-hockey?" every couple weeks. I'm going to assume you're not very good at hockey, such a precise precision sport requires something other than this. The lowest level of functioning white racial psychology in Brandon really went to strange biological blob places, it doesn't usually do that, it's usually able to maintain a certain base lowest awareness. I also know Dave gave all of you "And in university... He isolated. *sad frightening music*" Olmstead. Weiner. Yes everyone sees all of it at all times, even the people on your level see it. I probably should have isolated from you as well I just bored sometimes. I know it looked like "See? I have friends" to you and whoever else happened to be around but they don't matter they were isolated, you're isolated, you're all isolated. In me. Even when I like your level of cognitive functioning I never care about their opinions towards me. Also the other one obviously, it was painfully obvious by his comments relating to him picturing me with my friends at university and I bet it looks like an adurpadurpadurp that you do not see. I more or less knew I was on a chosen one mission collecting data when I really began speaking to you people, more or less. I didn't know biggest chosen one but I knew up there. I was doing a lot of things fit looking at my life long battle of trying to remember past the headaches as a baby. In Brandon, I pretty much always know I'm being watched, that one doesn't even hit my am I being paranoid possibilities. Many members of the watch are pretty clearly stating it. With my cousin Sandra I always know I'm playing a game. Biggest chosen one. They don't know it yet.

It wasn't... Past life stuff, no I mostly knew that, I pretty much got that back together around age five. It was something else... Something before birth, I remember what happens to a select few of us before birth. It's stored, it's stored in our brain there in the womb. The past life talking baby stuff was nothing special really, a lot of my soul mates were past life talking babies.

Some of them were full "Hello chosen one." blatant. I'm being so blatant I may as well use the words chosen one because I know you're going to repress it anyway. With Kim it went pretty much all the way to that one but it wasn't spoken. I was watching her mind warble as we were talking so I'll just let it happen. Everybody around us was already mind warbling over the Bin Ladin video so we could finally speak I'll just be that guy. She said I guess we can finally be full blatant if I can just brainwash everybody away from us by saying "Bin Ladin video." She said she won't be able to speak to me in person anymore afterwards but maybe on the internet. Put it on drugs you can have full conversations on instant messenger. HIT the hammer what hm? Hammer... Hammer. Hit the hammer. Something else meant that later I too lost this moment as well as the Bin Ladin video. However I retained Kim Appelt will always remember the moment we had in high school. She knows she's in the club. Gone. I had enough to figure out what's happening. No you won't need instant messenger, you're full all the way revolutionary artist status we'll be perfectly comfortable together.

"Oh I'm one of those people who met an intense Kit Carruthers hurr in childhood and then declared my ego upon him and wandered away oblivious." Kit Carruthers didn't care then and he cares way the hell less now everyone at that point in my life is now entirely removed whether I liked them or not a little bit even if they're one of the childhood friends who turns out to be one of us it's the only way to do this. You do this to me too. I probably don't even remember you. But I know how it goes sometimes you pretty much need to enter the kill self but I wanna see processes and either kill yourself or remain within it all day every day for the rest of your life over one little signal that suggests you don't like my thinking. Put "I bet he wants me to see so I get to see him" in the thought loop. There you go kill yourself. Yes I do, I want you to see me. No not you I don't even remember you.

Oh and right, Marty and Ryan, obviously I saw all of the it's nerds getting drunk let's get 'em drunk and you knew I saw it and you knew I was getting drunk at the same level as I would have gotten drunk anyway and you knew it obviously wasn't first time nerds getting drunk and you know I know you knew... I... Knew that you were only doing that for yourself.

I had an... Email format written up for if somebody tries to apologize that I knew would finish the job in the off chance somebody thought they could try to get out of it but obviously the second you thought of doing that you'd probably grab the nearest blunt object and bash your head in.

But, yes, since the age of nine at all times all around me was nothing but the frantic unstoppable stupid, nobody was safe from my perception, nobody, not one of you, a handful of you met my perception reasonably clean. I just blur it, it's just the frantic unstoppable stupid I'm used to it. As long as you were cognitive functioning level three and not incidentally somehow ego invested you were clean I just naturally have an ever so slight looking down on people I can't help it, I most certainly don't make it mean anything but only cognitive functioning level three people can grasp that. I never know who's on the side of evil secrets until I get to know you well enough to see your face when I speak but that's just my condition I pretty much just ignore it it doesn't count.

However everyone in my high school who counts can most certainly feel resolved by my perception even if you were also hurt by my perception. The first time I witnessed one of the improper preps deliver their hard passionate "SLAAAYAAAAA" at, like... A stoner. Not a goth stoner... Just. Just a stoner. Or maybe a drama nerd. You were all irresolvable feelings raging at this fucking thing, I was going absolutely giggling marbles over this person's life purpose. Pwahahehehezip. Tttssshehehezip. Zip. I see. I wish I could have given you the athouratative finger pounding on the table with "You gotta keep them in their own little world. You keep them delusional. You keep them happy." Oh well. That didn't come to me until later.

Oh and on the subject don't think any of you can get away with me going to my grave oblivious to what you did behind my back, the stupidly overly detailed sociopathic self actualization total completion process goes all over interconnection stuff wanting me to bother acknowledging. You got superficial acknowledges. Darren was a surprising one, oh well his reasons were behind my repressed memory wall. Wuss. RELAX, I don't care. Oh fuck do whatever you want. Maybe you should, that was a bad one, soft floaty pretend friend perfection the only one who wouldn't be a dick for no reason turned out to be the highest of pure evil for total soft floaty wuss reasons.

No mother, this doesn't mean you win, I don't have a problem with repressing my emotions and that's why you see bursts of yelling. I am building a collection of humorous comments in my head at literally every single thing you say but I don't a fuck. I yell at you when you're worth it. The one that really sparked it was... My father and I were discussing somebody who blew it hard on a Daily Show interview and how we would approach it if we were ever interviewed by Stewart or Colbert, we did drift into "that would be fun" fantasy for at least two or three minutes. My mother chimes in with "It is unhealthy for you to fantasize about being on Jon Stewart. You will never make it as a writer because you are a drug addict who needs his parents to pay his rent." that devolved into her crying all "You don't get to yell at me I'm your mother... Why are you so awful to me why are you doing this to me..." The Jon Stewart thing was literally fantasy hypothetical, I was already working on things a little too messiah complex I wouldn't want to put Jon Stewart in any danger. The rent thing, I had left my job in favour of drugs and repressed sadness and my benefits had run dry, I was thinking "My oth-other job doesn't seem to be making me enough to cover the rent, so, okay pay my rent motherfuckers. You wanna be mommy and daddy run their adult son's life, spare key barge and frantic smash all my bongs wipe my last bump of ketamine off the table threaten to use your undercover investigator abilities to track me down if I try to escape hurr, you can be mommy and daddy pay your adult son's rent." I didn't realize it was a complex semi conscious plot and I fell right into their trap, but that-that didn't really change anything. I have been defeated. Hurr. Mother, your behaviour suggests that you have a pretty severe emotional repression problem. "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD" with a sly obvious winner smirk at me asking how old the Greek salad in the fridge is and deep angry eye roll at me for not reading your mind as to the exact flower pot you are speaking of when you told me to move the flower pot... That's not evidence of you releasing your emotions when you feel the need to release your emotions, that is evidence of some other thing. Oh and "WHY do you always bump into my ankles with the shopping cart? You NEVER do this to your father, you've been doing this since you were a child I NEVER see you do this to ANYBODY else. You're passive aggressive..." Think about it. Think about it. You're never going to get it, it's literally impossible for you to ever get it on your own the very fabric of your brain will not allow for it. It's... You're the only person in my life who would ever fall into a centre of the universe daze and start wandering in front of shopping carts. And then just stay there and establish that everybody knows this is your spot, you're the two inches in front of the shopping cart lady. Expect me to slow down for you when you feel like bonus dazing at a shelf or a bird or a balloon. My father is more attuned to your daze I don't give a fuck about your daze. Also you're passive aggressive, I'm not sure if you've noticed but your every communication is designed in a manner that subtly informs outside of you that inside of you is upset that the queen of our universe is not being given every little thing she demands at all times it's so painfully obvious to everyone that you're not minding the queen you look fucking ridiculous and also outside of her is very dark and evil and confusing and it needs to stop.

Oh, father, the "It's so hard with my condition" crying at you was a lie. I actor called the crying from crying at your... "Passive aggressive" subconscious semi-conscious life of psychological torment to bring myself to the "Please leave me alone" cry fest after you happened to bolt awake in horror because you caught me drunkenly releasing emotion, along with the past five times you happened to bolt awake with horror because you caught me drunkenly releasing emotion and often got an explanation of what you were seeing and sometimes a demand to leave me alone. I learned with drugs in my twenties that I require the moments of yelling and crying, not because my condition is so hard, it's the easiest thing in the universe, but because the normal day to day interaction stuff compounds as well. You simultaneously delivered me a life of both intense compartmentalized day to day interaction, always holding in my hatred of moments such as "IF I LEAVE YOU ALONE IN THE CAR ARE YOU JUST GONNA BOLT!?" at your twenty five year old son and "DON'T PATRONIZE ME!" when I dared to imply with my choice of wording that I am dismissive of your demands to place all the way into my conscious semi-conscious subconscious and unconscious that I am the one who is psychotic as well as the non-stop string of either infuriatingly stupid comments or doopy doop hours of rambling nothing that comes out of both of your faces, and a life of knowing you're paranoid psychosis cup to the wall-ing me at all times at all times at all times at all times all the way to carefully studying my every movement and facial expression with deep darkness in your eyes and the potential result of me doing the crazy darkness things I like to do with my drugs in my crazy darkness alone time is the complete and total destruction of myself and everyone I love by the hands of your frantic out of control unstoppable stupid. Yes, cup to the wall, I've twice woken up and walked into the living room and the first thing he says is a laughing attempt to hide his obvious darkness "I heard you talking in your sleep." Through the wall, through a loud fan. Through a loud fan. Oh thank God, thank you for allowing me a way out of that one I actually did wake up and start talking to myself but I know that's one that gets me lobotomized padlock on the door go through my computer and delete everything I've ever done with my life and then kill the cat.

The cry moment is proof level two cognitive functioning is incapable of anything other than the self interested apology until every last god damned perceptual filter is removed and complete lack of ego investment enlightenment is attained. Even if what they appear to be is vaguely humbled, not properly humbled but knowing what they are to be is humbled... You're supposed to be well over fifty times more humbled. The information I gave you relating to your life of psychological torment over me should have caused you to either drop dead of a heart attack or instantly attain thought loop level five and yet you just floated at it. Even if you've reached the bottom of all of your "Yeah but" and come to the understanding you are fully wrong, all you want is your love back, even though this new information obviously declares you forever unloved, been entirely unloved for eighteen years, more or less been entirely unloved your entire life. My son probably wants my love back too, that's probably part of what's making him so emotional.

Every movement and facial expression. I gave you one example, you understood that one, you didn't understand how you've been doing it my entire life. It's semi-conscious, my every movement and facial expression, find every little thing you can within your self confirmation make it combine forces draw associations connected to your delusions, know that North American society supports you whole heartedly because everybody knows we need to take this evil force of awareness of what we are currently doing DOWN it's going DOOOOOWWWwwwnnn... You both do it, I first noticed it when I was six, when my mother looked at my face, what I was was happy, the emotion was happy, but my mouth had moved about one millimeter from where it was previously, that means deep horror darkness falls over my mother she almost collapses to the floor OOOHHHHHH MY GOOOOD MY BABY IS SAAAD OOOHHHH MY GOD WHAT'S HAPPENING. She says "I am going to need to know every little thing that is happening between you and your friends. You are not to keep this from me. I need to know." The enemy, it just looks at me and everything that is my happiness, my life, my self, it's all over, it'll call legality if it needs to, it gets to do whatever it wants. When it's alone, it's figuring out what to do next. I've never looked at it as people.

I've developed a system at the both of you people, yes I have. It's incredibly complex. I've been paranoid psychosis-ing at the both of you paranoid psychotics since the age of seven. It started getting incredibly complex at the age of ten. Yeah, you know what you started doing when I was seven, yeah you know what you said just before I was ten. We all know what you initiated when I was six. It goes to stunningly brilliant subconscious semi-conscious games places. I have you entirely cut off from ever drawing any aspect of myself from any of my communications to an incredibly deep level just sub what I plan on eating for dinner tonight. However volunteering the information of what I am eating for dinner tonight falls within the system, it's one of the more simple aspects of the system. And I know you're both self confirming psychoanalyzers to the deepest of possible any little thing so it has to go all the way, it's a lot more complicated than simply not revealing anything. I have your every thought entirely pegged and I know how to draw all the information I need to keep you in check in a manner even the most brilliant of psychoanalyzer could never detect for a second. I'll give you the details in my essays, it's intense. There are aspects of it even I cannot fully grasp, I lose them within the moment afterwards of trying to figure out what exactly it is I just did.

I can give psychologists a hint, about one twelfth or one fifteenth of you may know what happened. I picked up on a subconscious trigger fully consciously at the age of seven. Always doing normal child things I am a normal regular child I'm never looking away as if only pondering, never looking away as if only pondering never never looking away as if only pondering it's fucking serious I am always looking like a normal person doing normal things. I'm never doing anything that looks remotely interesting if I am it is to be kept a secret. Hear the evil footsteps coming I happen to find myself in a moment of thought for three seconds turn the television on I am a normal child I am not a psychotic child. It was, playing with my toys, I looked away to ponder something unrelated to my toys, I caught a subtle look in my mother out of the corner of my eye suggesting deep horror at this force of pure evil. I didn't know what it was, I didn't know why, all I knew is that I need to keep this contained or the consequences could be dire. I entered semi-consciously that my parents are a force of evil who wish to destroy me, I have no idea why, eventually it slipped into my subconscious and I basically maintained normal, at times even internally to me everything is normal, that's how hard I'm maintaining normal. However I always knew, at all times, primarily to me they are a thing to be kept contained, my love for them means far less to me than keeping them contained.

It gets so ridiculously out of this world worse when you understand their motivations for becoming everything they now are to humanity. So far off any form of what exactly they hope to achieve and incorrect potential outcome analysis, just as the psychological establishment attempting to destroy me, so out of this world... What your options are in the moment, not doing anything means it can just go away it will never hurt you it will never do anything to you, doing something enters you into the gamble of it either doing nothing to you and you achieving nothing at it or you achieving nothing at it and you entering into humanity as the grandest celebrities of pointless stupidity. This is how they use their brains, this is what you're capable of without natural perceptual filter bypass.

I never wanted to do this, I never wanted to do any of these things to you. I wanted to love you, I never wanted to see you do all of the things you do, you left me no choice. Had you just, like, taken the option to NOT do any of the things you did you would never need to be exposed as the people who did the things they did. I don't understand people like you, I'll never get it.

I'm going to try my hardest to salvage my father's integrity, however I have nothing for my mother. His entire twenty some years of battling the union, fucking unions, god damned fucking unions, as soon as the company that bought the company he was currently working for wished to get rid of the union, that's not legal in Canada, but they wanted to, they kept trying to, he did a hard NOPE and resigned his incredibly valuable position. He meant to world travel in his early twenties with some friends, I'll drop more details in the essays it's trippy, he happened to find himself in Cambodia during the rise of the Khmer Rouge, got to see the killing fields from a helicopter, got rammed in a refugee camp where he developed many stories, most notably having to beat a man to death with a rock because he went crazy in order to save the others and having to dig undigested food out of dead people's stomachs so the rest of the camp could eat. When he worked in the prisons before becoming an undercover investigator where he picked up the "Drugs 'r bad" perceptual filter, one of the prisoners asked him "HAY. How's your wife and my kid!?" and he said "Wife's good, kid's retarded." For you I had to do a pretty fucking serious I never wanted you to destroy yourself I never wanted to hate you cry, I felt no drive to look at you or our life together as I did it but it was most certainly not a superficial release of emotion, I have not cried like that since Jamie.

My paternal grandfather told me the story, the mass murder one got so upset when he found out he was adopted that he cried and went to his room, the dimwit one goes over there and tells him it's OKAY just because all they thought was fine we'll take 'em doesn't mean we have to love them, we're just here, they're just there, we're fed and sheltered, it's better than what we would have had. After he kept haring my line about the military saying not to take drugs, seeing his brother begin to take drugs, seeing me favour his brother... He goes on a mission to destroy drugs with his own stupidity, he turned the entire event into... Just because they adopted us doesn't mean they don't love us, it doesn't mean they're not our parents. So I just kind of play the part of hard lined military captain for his benefit. That's why you see with him I adopt the stance, with you I can relax. Sometimes I lose myself a little in the stance, it's embarrassing.

I know we're freemason buddies I feel it. I knew it for certain when you said "It's not embellishment that's just how life unfolds for this type of high freemason... Oh yeah that makes sense yes that was me." They all go home and repress the memory. That's the feelings that separated them from the family, every time they tell their story about how after I write my book and die they're going to ram a quick note in at the end there that says "He embellishes." You look at their face you know the moment they're waiting for is the moment they all complete their thought looping disorder and drop dead of a heart attack. Luckily for them I won't be writing any books, the book has already been written, just try to get "He embellishes" into my military records just try. That's the tension within our family, you won't have to see them but you'll see it a little in your father. He seemed to have learned from me not to embellish, so, he's pretty good at hiding it, his stories are true he pretty much resists the urge.

Oooohhh that's what... That's what you're doing when you say to them "Hey do you have a thought looping disorder?" and they turn their head and say "No." and you say "Put in the thought loop 'I believe everything, I believe all of it.'" and they say "No I don't want that one I don't like it..." and run away. I use that thing, I've been using that thing on kids at school. I don't know how to do that yet though I'll have to refine my skills.

You broke your brain on the hippie self-hypnosis tapes when you were twelve, father. You probably would have turned out fine. It said don't try it until you're thirty, you don't know if you're in yet, it won't like you. You thought you were a big tough guy. If you're not within the hippie knowledge bank proper, as most hippies are not, these tapes will fuck you up, you're not allowed to have this knowledge.

Them destroying themselves upon me. With my mother... The entire time I was thinking "Ahhh flabambiflambaifluck... Go ahead and flimpampflup yourself you flambambaharpaflambiclap." With my father I was more troubled. "Stop. STOP. Stop destroying yourself. You were meant to be somebody respectable." Your own saviour reflexes destroyed you. You never should have accidentally impregnated that nineteen year old retard and pretended it was love at first sight. You lost yourself within it because of your battle against me, you never loved her you always wanted to destroy her. Yes, you broke your finger on the table laying down the line to your parents, you're marrying this woman, you had already began to snap, I saw two sides of you with her as a child.