Sociopath Community

im dreaming right now and this is my hell

i  can experience heaven only while waking 

Existence is absolutely meaningless. Reality's absurd...It doesn't matter, because at the end of the day, we're all going to die.

“Nothing we do now will matter in a million years" - Thomas Nagel. Why even bother???

its much bigger than you or us

you are but a dandruff  flake falling from the universe's shortest ballhair

Both the red pill and the blue pill are about escaping something. The real question is what would happen if you'd chosen to take both, or neither.

It's more fun if you lean back and enjoy the ride..

by Nazi_Elephant

I'm pretty red-pilled. In other words, I'm very knowledgable about the horrible reality behind things.

I know that the CIA traffics cocaine. I know that 911 was an insider job. I know that the whole War on Terror is nothing more than a farce...the whole war on terror is all about getting the oil from the Middle East. It has absolutely nothing to do with fighting terrorism in the Middle East. Besides all of the terrorists were originally funded by the CIA and other special agencies.The American elite cares less about fighting terrorism, and they care everything about getting the oil resources of the middle east.

I'm probably still blue-pilled on some subjects. In other words, I'm probably still ignorant on some other subjects.

But I rather understand how much of the world is a horribly wrong and fucked up place than remain willfully ignorant and wrongfully believe that the world is a good place.

Nah... the government probably doesn't want you to know how many people they take down inside thier own borders on a regular basis.

That would be terror.

You never hear, on the news, oh, the cia took down so and so, using the cellular scanning network, and they were given a fair trail and sentenced to a nice prison getaway somewhere.

You guys have seen this right? wtf is with that wrong answer. That's fucked up. Seems on purpose to me.

That's intelligence. It's Andrew Dice Clay.

There isn't a doubt in my mind,  there is some incarnation of this, which knows who I am.

I think the only thing which I am not fully red pill on is the belief that I am somehow connected to an ethereal plane with aliens deep inside the Universe. If I was, I'd probably be absolutely insane.

Why not bother? The moment can distract from how much nothing matters, and nothing mattering makes you free to do as you please. If there's no reason to bother from everything being truly pointless, then there is just as much to do anything since choosing to do nothing would be equally pointless.

To quote a page out of Fight Club:

by Fight Club

How I met Tyler was I went to a nude beach. This was the very end of summer, and I was asleep. Tyler was naked and sweating, gritty with sand, his hair wet and stringy, hanging in his face.

Tyler had been around a long time before we met.

Tyler was pulling driftwood logs out of the surf and dragging them up the beach. In the wet sand, he'd already planted a half circle of logs so they stood a few inches apart and as tall as his eyes. There were four logs, and when I woke up, I watched Tyler pull a fifth log up the beach. Tyler dug a hole under one end of the log, then lifted the other end until the log slid into the hole and stood there at a slight angle.

You wake up at the beach.

We were the only people on the beach.

With a stick, Tyler drew a straight line in the sand several feet away. Tyler went back to straighten the log by stamping sand around its base.

I was the only person watching this.

Tyler called over, "Do you know what time it is?"

I always wear a watch.

"Do you know what time it is?"

I asked, where?

"Right here," Tyler said. "Right now."

It was 4:06 P.m.

After a while, Tyler sat cross-legged in the shadow of the standing logs. Tyler sat for a few minutes, got up and took a swim, pulled on a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, and started to leave. I had to ask.

I had to know what Tyler was doing while I was asleep.

If I could wake up in a different place, at a different time, could I wake up as a different person?

I asked if Tyler was an artist.

Tyler shrugged and showed me how the five standing logs were wider at the base. Tyler showed me the line he'd drawn in the sand, and how he'd use the line to gauge the shadow cast by each log.

Sometimes, you wake up and have to ask where you are.

What Tyler had created was the shadow of a giant hand. Only now the fingers were Nosferatu-long and the thumb was too short, but he said how at exactly four-thirty the hand was perfect. The giant shadow hand was perfect for one minute, and for one perfect minute Tyler had sat in the palm of a perfection he'd created himself.

You wake up, and you're nowhere.

One minute was enough, Tyler said, a person had to work hard for it, but a minute of perfection was worth the effort. A moment was the most you could ever expect from perfection.

You wake up, and that's enough.

His name was Tyler Durden, and he was a movie projectionist with the union, and he was a banquet waiter at a hotel, downtown, and he gave me his phone number.

He manifests "living for the moment" as opposed to "living in the moment", and multiple stories in the book reflect that view (especially related to his jobs). The story Brad Pitt references in the movie while peeing into the restraunt's food they purposely skip over as a wink to the book-carrying audience is glorious.

Behind all the plot and direct meaning, the story carries a debate between living for the moment and living for what comes after it.