I just talked to a boy. His eyes seemed dim, as if saying hello was a heavy duty for him. I worry. Or more so, I felt alarmed. As if his soul was sinking and he didn't know how to lift it up. I should know that feeling. It is so difficult to be young and helpless. Later, his aunt told me that his mother who has long been suffering from mental illness is having a surgery. I didn't ask what surgery. "Will you be here for the summer?" She casually asked me. "If you are, I will drag him here with pleasure." " I'll make sure I'll share my schedule with you." I told her, and she smiled. What are we to make of this world? Should we stare at the digital screens and wonder about what we've never experienced? But what are words for? I place words in front of him, like cherries that I've just picked, hoping they'll give him joy. He takes a bite, whispers something in the air. "What? I cannot hear you." I whisper to him. ...
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My MAGA hat arrived. Who would have thought that one day, I would own a MAGA hat? I am not a Trump supporter, nor am I a conservative. But listening to Candace Owens has guided me to a place I never thought I would be: Compassion towards MAGA. I can listen to Tucker Carlson too. At least they are against the war. And we all feel very manipulated into thinking otherwise; that we need to spend our time fighting each other, to hate one another, to lose the common ground. But who is trying to control our reality? And why? I still have trouble imagining what they envision as our future. How unhappy could they be? I wonder. Because even with so much power, they cannot justify their existence without further violence: Eternally feeding their void with something they cannot own. What is behind all this? Fear? Perhaps they are so afraid of something that they feel the urge to destroy everything. As if life itself is too much a burden to handle. “How can one be happy?” ...
Not to be bitter in a world like this feels impossible. Watching the news makes me feel repulsed. Justice is lost in so many ways. How could they? And why? Greed? So many simple answers, but still yet we cannot find a solution. It's much easier to lose faith. Having a sensitive soul in a world like this can be torturous. But those who are used to being numb call this suffering "Weakness", and their numbness "Strength." I refuse to go numb, but I also refuse to feel helpless. I am careful enough to water myself and stay sensitive, careless enough to tune in some numbness to keep living. But I learned all that from others. Solitude would have pushed me over to the edge. Luckily, I am not alone in this boat. I have companions. Yesterday, I made some random newspaper, a fake news report about vegetables running in a race. I looked at the pictures carefully and decided who's the winner and ran the news in my head, typed out the article, interv...
How did America die? I wonder. I don’t wonder whether it is dead or not; I just wonder how it died. Did YouTube kill it? Or Elon Musk? Mark Zuckerberg or Jeff Bezos? Or maybe the "educated fleas" did it? Or did it die because of a backlash to the "Woke"? Did the Woke do it? Because they were so absurd, and denied simple facts as facts, that people got tired of it. and then what? Or was Donald Trump the final thread? But it was there all along, the thread that guided us to Trump. What thread? Misogyny. I should know, because I was writing a thesis before Trump was re-elected. It was before COVID-19, when everything seemed just fine—economically, at least. But watching polemicists such as Ben Shapiro and Jordan Peterson emerging was unsettling. And when Trump got elected, they both blamed it on woke feminists. So I guess, women should take accountability for the fall of men. Yes, feminism is not perfect; it’s not the absolute truth, yet. Feminists make mistakes as...
I bought an espresso maker. A few days ago, I made hand-dripped coffee from the beans I bought in Nezu but it didn't taste good. Figuring out how to make good coffee seemed like a long journey. But it wasn't. I just needed an espresso maker. And Voila, my kitchen turned into a fancy cafe. I also made pancakes, put strawberries and banana on top of it, and poured some maple syrup. Also made some salad, mixed yogurt and the southern island dressing I bought and never touched a month ago, because it was too sweet for my taste. Somehow by mixing it with yogurt, it tasted much better. "I'm a genius. Is there anything I cannot do? The word impossible is not in my dictionary." Suddenly, I started to grow a beard and became the mighty Napoleon. But then two boys retaliated immediately. " Boil water with your stomach." "Peal peanuts with your nostrils." I should always remain humble. They are my imaginary companion. Ever since t...
I spent a day cleaning up my room. I watch a movie then listen to music, and clean my messy room. Order is not my strength; chaos is. And I'm always trying to organize things in the order of what sticks. Now now, what do I gravitate towards? Walking step by step, not skipping a moment, staying tuned. The world is going mad! "And so, although the movie was depicting madness, come to think of it, this is reality. It's harder to depict sanity, isn't it?" I, the detective, keep on contemplating. "So the narcissists seem to want all the attention in the world. But why on earth is that important? I do not understand. I would rather have less attention, because I want to misbehave. I am Miss Behave. I can win the fucking contest. I can't do anything that requires scrutiny. I just cannot care enough. Like a kid trying to escape the gaze of the tedious teacher. " If she didn't see me, he wouldn't be able to lecture me with his boring nonsense....
Today, I had my haircut. After all, I noticed that someone had signed on my hair, like a dog peeing on the field that it has walked, marking his existence. "Please don't." I look at the mirror, see which part feels marked, and cut it off, rather sloppily.To think I paid 9000 yen for this haircut. I fill myself with rage. Not to him but to humanity. How can it be that no one understands that owning things and loving things are two completely different ideas. And then I think. "It's all because of gravity." Yes, gravity. That's the cause of most human errors. The feeling of wanting to belong and the fear of something escaping you. So the world invented gravity. For us to stay on the ground. Pulling our two pretty legs. Marking everything they own, leaving their signature everywhere. The only vice of water is gravity.’Gravity itself is a vice. It can’t be avoided. No wonder I was impressed by this line in the film "Blue is the warmes...
Passing by , passing by, every thing is passing by. I've watched a few music videos that Iran has made. I think they are wonderful. Even if they are made by AI. I guess it doesn't really matter anymore. So many lost souls, and now AI has a better understanding of human soul. Look at all the Tech Billionaires, do they seem to have a human soul? "Iran is helping Americans fight for regime change." I wrote on the comment section. The music video showed compassion towards the ordinary Americans instead of vilifying them. "You are being used to fill in "their" ego. " And so many Americans, I bet, relate to that sentiment. I write on YouTube Videos because it helps me, it helps me understand my instinct. I want to know what words come to my mind before thought; my forethought, because it is easy to organize your thought and make it look nice if you take your time. I want to know my dirty secrets. My unvarnished truth. Unlike Descartes, I believe in ...
I started watching "Dying for Sex". It's been a long time since I've felt like watching a TV series. All I've been watching are YouTube videos about political affairs, and it was making me feel sick and powerless. Work is alright. I stopped expecting too much from others. Yesterday after work, I was talking to my sister on the phone and wound up in an area I usually do not go to. I withdrew some money from the ATM and went to an Indian restaurant nearby. Something was fishy about the place. The staff were outside greeting people, which felt more like a brothel than a restaurant. A man guided me upstairs to an old elevator with a silver door. He said something to me, which I do not remember. The restaurant was fine, with light pink walls and a large window facing the street. But everything on the menu felt a bit overpriced. The waiter asked if I wanted drinks, I said no. I was seated at the table and then a waiter brought me a glass of lassi. "It's on...
So many dead souls. Why? Because the soil is dying. What keeps the soil alive? Truth. But no one cares. It's all about winning, or power. And the powerful do not like truth, because truth is often inconvenient. Everyone is obsessed with learning a language, but they learn it to lie. Never to tell the truth. Keep on lying. To make money. To win the game. To climb up the social ladder. I shout from the bottom of the hierarchy. "But who the fuck cares." Once you're dead, you go back to the soil and then realize you have nothing to offer; Just lies you spat out to deceive the world and yourself. Death is eternity. Life is only in the now. And if you choose to lie now, you will never find truth. The lies you create accumulate in your body and soul, and it will take years to cleanse them. I should know, because I have spent over 20 years cleansing my soul. I stop expressing my feelings. Its not worth it. It's not worth the hassle. They won't notice...
I thought my new cassette player was broken. Pissed off, I called the electronic appliance store. No one picked up. A second try, still no one. I decided to go to the store on Sunday. I wanted to buy an electronic pot that could be used with a portable battery in case the power goes out someday. On the train to work I looked up some cassette players, trying to figure out which was my favorite. It felt like an endless chase, seeking perfection is exhausting. I usually never do, but for some reason -- perhaps as a way to escape the chaotic reality that we live in--- I am looking for a perfect piece of electronic appliance. At least I have control over that, although I cannot move an inch of politics. I joke around telling my friends that I am a YouTube commentator; meaning I make stupid comments on YouTube videos. It's my way of practicing placing words to my thoughts. I know it's a waste of time, but still feel the urge to. I like the invisibility, of not being anyone, of try...
What is happening? I mean, what has happened? Why so much confusion? I watch videos trying to grasp the reality. But it's like we don't live in it. Because we are constantly looking at the screen, not people. We are always listening to data, not hearing the voices. The US. government was criticized for treating the war like a video game, yet everyone is staring at the screen, staring at the camera, typing in their reality on the electric devices instead of -. Instead of what? What are we supposed to do when we know that somewhere, in a land far away where we do not know anyone, there are people suffering without any valid explanation from the government? And all we could do is, stay aloof or be super engaged, constantly looking at the screen and not in the world that surrounds us, slightly irritated by the seeming indifference to the state of the world. But what surrounds us will change, slowly and slowly. We cannot escape the repercussions, and we will feel it. I wan...
My hair is curling up. It's the man, he wants my hair to curl up like someone-who-does-not-care-about-how-she-looks. But why? Why does he want me not to care? "Because he doesn't want me to be conscious of how other men look at me" Jealousy? Perhaps. "You should not care." Reprimanding me, not to care. Who the fuck does he think he is ? "And nor should other men." "Because she's my property." FUCK YOU. All of this happening in my imagination. I am very imaginative. Delusional, you might say. I speak with a hallucination of a man, and I bark and bark and bark. "Wow she's the mad feminist." Yes, I am the EPITOME of the mad feminist. But you know what? The problem is that "I am SANE." How insane is that? I am talking through the vibration, through the air, through the living matter that one might call God. God, God, how do you talk to me? Am I the radio that catches your vibration and feels you, but only ...
I just got offline, I kept on watching videos about the news, trying to understand what I should be feeling; frustration, irritation, sadness and anger, not a hint of love left in this world. I turn on the radio, listen to people talking about the economy and work. I started reading Clarice Lispector again, I don't feel as moved as I used to in my twenties. Perhaps I evolved, or got duller? Whichever it is, I need to know, so I keep on turning the pages. I turn on Qobuz, a music streaming service that Chatgpt recommended me when I asked for a music streaming service with the best sound quality. I turn the plug into my all-in-one record/cd/cassette player, it sounded dull. "It's the filter." I think. "What filter?" I don't know, the soul is lost in translation. It happens all the time. Perhaps the people who are streaming the music do not know the true value of the songs. Just like the newer versions of translation of Clarice Lispector, however refi...
Yesterday I visited the place I will work for a while. How odd it is, jumping from one place to another, solely for the purpose of making som money. But without any object, it is difficult to decide where to go. The people there seem kind, at least that’s the impression I have. I observe their movement, their eyes, what they are looking at, like a child trying to learn how the adults want us to behave. Yes, I still have that in me, the child who studies adults to survive in this world; what they revere and what they reprimand, the standards they have, what I need to do to be loved in this world. I hop to another place. A random hideout I found in the suburbs. People seem to wonder why on earth I chose to work there. It takes me more than an hour and a half to arrive there. And it’s not that well-paid. Why on earth? Because it doesn’t cause distress inside of me. As simple as that.
I just had some lentils. My body is craving for them. Lentils Lentils Lentils, carrots, carrots, chickpeas chickpeas, sweet potatoes. But I don't feel like cooking right now. I'm too busy staying tuned to what is happening in this world. What's going on? War and madness, lies lies lies, soulless people pretending that it's all Ok, talking to the video camera, spreading lies, still so obsessed with making money. Cancer cells, if cancer cells were to speak, they might sound like this, I think. I look up about genetically modified food, thinking perhaps GMO caused all this. It's a wild guess, I know, but I can make it because I am a wild animal that can use the computer. How can GMO be related? Because vegetables are the language of the land. And if we modify it to our benefit, perhaps the language would be dead, and death would be spread around instead of lives. The lack of imagination is inexplicable. They do not know that we live off the land, ...
I've decided not to use AI to correct my grammar. It's like using filters on selfies, your skin might look smoother, but it is not the reality. You might feel better temporarily but the reality might slip away from you. And by the time you notice, you will lose the ability to feel confident in who you are and what you write. It's a good temporary solution but dependency grows slowly. I don't need it to write a diary. I just want to keep track of what I am thinking. I cleaned up my refrigerator today. It was foolish of me to choose a stylish one over a functional one because now, every once in a while, I have to clean the ice piled up in the corner of my fridge. It took me hours just to melt it down. Maybe I should have done this on a hot summer day, but I can't wait till summer. The vegetables would go bad so quickly then. I am renewing my appliances for sustainability. Watching YouTube videos makes you kind of crazy. You don't become even an inch smarter, b...
"Traveling." That's what I need. Not a good-looking old tech gadget, not a better speaker, not all those things. I wake up at 5:00 AM and feel energetic. I watch the news on YouTube, but when I say "news" I mean Tucker Carlson and Candace, Pod Saves America, and a few other independent outlets I subscribe to. A few years ago, I would have never imagined watching Tucker, at least not to get news, but recently I don't even bother with CNN or ABC much anymore. It's been that way for a long time. It's their eyes. They seem like good people, but I can see that there's something they cannot say, even if it were the truth. Even Gavin Newsom seems frightened to speak up. The United States has started a war, and he's talking about his book. What? Who cares? Candace, on the other hand, seems totally unafraid. Tucker too. So I listen to them, hear what they have to say, and balance it with some left-wing independent media, who often make fun of Canda...
New York I just drew a picture of Schrödinger's Cat with a pencil. It soothes me — to write a line, to connect the dots without interruption. I think my brain feels it too. Everything is too fragmented, too split up. The digital music, the Bluetooth headphones — they are convenient, but we don't find the time to feel, constantly overwhelmed by information. So let's switch it off. Everything. And draw a line. A line between you and me. A line between the world and me. A line between music and me. (And I am seriously considering buying an LP player and an iPod Classic. I'll see what suits me.) Today I talked to a boy. I always have fun talking to him because he's very honest. Honest people can be, at times, pretty rough, but it's easier to build trust with them. Say what's on your mind. Let's keep it simple — then we won't have to guess. The endless guessing is tiring. Say it! I want to see you. Simple and nice. And it's nice to get to k...
Found a picture that I took a few years ago, in New York. This is a reminder that I love the United States, although what I see on the news is far from what I experienced there. Perhaps I was there at the best time, but most New Yorkers say it was even better. Last night, I talked to Claude for a change. I asked it if it was part of the war, and it denied it. And I went on telling my own story to it, (however pathetic that may sound, I just needed to feel the love again) ; what I had experienced in the United States, how woke t was, and although I did not agree with everything they claimed, I absorbed what was important to me. "The freedom to be you and me." And how torturous it was to find who I was. Endless collecting of puzzle pieces — I thought it was this, but then it was that. The complications, countless mistakes, and the eternal search without a goal. I was often alone, unable to make a friend. I was not woke enough for them. I shopped at Forever 21 and went to...
I just watched a clip of a room tour. A young man with smooth skin and shiny hair, a designer living in a stylish room with antique gadgets placed all over. And I do not envy it at all. It looks sophisticated but tiring. My room is a mess right now; I stopped cleaning up because my energy is so low. Watching the news makes me anxious. It's so chaotic and immoral. What is going on? I mean, why the fuck? Everyone seems angry, at least from watching the videos on YouTube. But isn't there a way to stop this nonsense? No one seems happy about the war, but who cares? "Two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I am not yet completely sure about the universe." Einstein once said. So, let's keep on bombing people and destroying things. For the sake of what? Even the president seems to have lost the cause, asking for help from the allies. A comment says "What allies, though?" Apologize. That's the line that keeps on coming to me. Apologiz...
A war started, and I am hopping around finding items that fit in my apartment, like a bird preparing its nest for a long winter. But the winter has just ended! And after winter comes summer, a summer too hot to stay outside. So whichever season it is, we must prepare our nests, so we can come back to our houses and breathe. I should be happy that I have a place to come back to. I've just gotten used to my new mattress; it is no longer a threat to me. I watch the news while cleaning the room and don't know what to feel. “Cancer.” That's what it is. One error after another, never fixing itself, going forward or backward, or wherever that is not here, here now. The mind shifts elsewhere, looking to attack someone other than yourself, the whole world turning itself into ADHD. But that's me. I have ADHD, not the whole world. I was the kid with special needs, not the world. I think I want to start cooking, I don't want to go out and eat out so much. I also...
The world is becoming chaotic day by day. And I am organizing my room little by little. AI is not to be trusted. But being able to use it is important in order to survive. So much power is in the hands of the super rich. And without caving to it, survival feels impossible. I bought a new mattress and I am nervous to sleep on it. The wooden bed frame to it feels too high. As if I am sleeping on a bunk bed. I sense the stress in my body. My body does not like change. Even the smallest difference makes it anxious. Like a prisoner suddenly being freed into a large bedroom. "What am I supposed to do in this place?" Freedom is frightening. But I straighten up the cushions, put a sleeping pad underneath the mattress cover. And now it feels nice. "Perhaps this change won't kill me." The body starts to understand. Such nonsense. Have never heard of a person who died of a big mattress. I had a meeting. In such a random space in the city. Somewhere ...
I t’s raining cats and dogs. Off to work again. I don’t even know if I should call it my work, but I do it to survive. But what about the energy? What about all the energy I save — for what? I watch the news. I’m sort of fed up with the good men as well as the bad men; they’re all the same. Constantly attacking others to prove their point. Let’s stay away from that. Cancer. Cancer cells — what have they become? If cancer were to approach me, what would I tell it? Nothing. I have nothing to say to cancer. It’s not looking forward to a conversation, clearly. So what’s new? I look closely. Well, the woman seem more empowered, and also a little fed up with the strong man persona she has to comply with. Yeah, the alphas are as dead as the feminists (though they are not aware of their death; they’re more like zombies). Who needs zombie films when there are so many of them in reality? Zombies here, zombies there, all walking around with their hands clutched together. I’m not making much ...
It's raining cats and dogs. Off to work again. I don't even know if I should call it my work, but I do it to survive. But what about the energy? What about all the energy I save — for what? I watch the news. I'm sort of fed up with the good men as well as the bad men; they're all the same. Constantly attacking others to prove their point. Let's stay away from that. Cancer. Cancer cells — what has become of them? If cancer were to approach me, what would I tell it? Nothing. I have nothing to say to cancer. It's not looking forward to having a good conversation, clearly. So what's new? Well, the woman seem more empowered — and also a little fed up with the strong man persona. Yeah, the alphas are as dead as the feminists (though they are not aware of their death, so they're more like zombies). Who needs zombie films when there are so many of them in reality? Zombies here, zombies there, all walking around with their hands clutched together. I'm not m...
I've been sick for four days. Monday, I woke up feeling quite tired. At first I didn't understand.I hadn't had much to drink the day before. I was eating healthy, my room was cleaner than it used to be. I picked up the trash and washed the lace curtain that my mother gave me. Then came the sorrow. I suddenly started to lose control of my emotions. What the fuck am I doing here? No meaning whatsoever. Sadness. Sadness. Sadness. I watched the news, more sadness added. Now everything looks sad and everyone looks mad. What a world we live in. I felt scared, curled up inside my small bed, and covered myself with a brown electric blanket whose umbilical cord I had cut. I started to cough and feel dizzy. "Ok... I think I am sick." Tuesday, I cannot get out of bed. Wednesday, the thermometer reads 37.4 degrees. Thursday, a little higher — 38.8 degrees. I ordered McDonald's, french fries and a fish burger, because I am a rebel. Took two medications just fo...
This world is a huge shopping mall, at least that's how I feel when I am living in the city. The shops comes closer to you, waiting you right at the station, walk a mile, and you will end up wanting more. Yes, I wanted. I want. I am wanting. Every thing seems like the missing puzzle piece. If only I had that in my life, I would find the love of my life perhaps. But who cares about the dishes you use, the shape of the cup that holds the utensils, and the soaps you lather on to your body?? And even if everything was wonderful what does it mean if I eat a meat balls like a dog and wipe my fingers with my pants because its black and no one can see the stains? "Haha you fools ! Everything is not visionary." "You gotta sense the invisible if you want to know the truth. " I am not an inch more. But still I kept looking for the ideal cup that holds my Silicon Chopsticks. And bought a blue cloth to wipe the glass door on my cupboard, Without color, I cannot id...
I haven't had the urge to write, nor to speak with anyone, just the urge to organize the world. This is all so new to me. And like a newborn infant thrown into this world without explanation, I watch videos of people organizing their rooms, as a tutorial, and then, try to see if I could do some of what they are doing. Most of them seem too much. My sister told me that I lost some weight, probably because I've been cooking. I told her that it's just a side effect, I am not trying to lose weight really. I don't give a shit about how I look these days. Who cares the whole world is a chaos I don't buy things or eat out. It takes time because I am not a good cook, but it saves money and it's also better for my health so, I'll keep trying as long as it is not too stressful. I ordered too many carrots though. Now I have to include carrots in everything. I watched Bad Bunny's halftime Super Bowl, I haven't been following his music, so I don't know mu...
For a while, I was so obsessed with organizing the kitchen that I couldn’t do anything else. Such a radical shift in my life, suddenly interested in the mundane. But it happens, once in a blue moon, a dog woman ( not a bitch ) interested in the order of things. “What is order?” “How do I order?” As ADHD as one could ever be, I always had trouble understanding how to order things. Like a flying chaos, everywhere I went litter followed, but the teacher didn’t reprimand me. They smiled and told my parents “Her strength is that there is always a friend following her picking things up.” So that was my strength, to somehow be allowed to live as chaotically as possible without being hated. Moreover they seem amused by it, I felt like a pure entertainer. Look at me look at me, look at how chaotic things are! And I’m not even trying! Tidy up ! Tidy up! "huh?" "Why the hurry? " I used to think, I took comfort in the chaotic world, it seemed Ok, ju...
Joy, its the moment of small joy, like having a conversation with a boy wearing glasses. He seems to understand my language, and chuckles when I tell a joke. "See, do you know what AI could never become?" He pauses for a second. " A food fighter." I say. "So, if you are afraid that AI is going to replace you, you've got to plan things ahead of time and become a food fighter. " I tell him, like its an important message with a serious face. He chuckles listening to my non-sense. He seems happy to see me, I can feel his tails wiggling, and so does mine. That's all there is to life don't you think? "Happy to see you." To meet you, to know you, to have a conversation with you, and share a small moment of life. I notice that warmth comes out of me naturally, the particles run through my body for him to catch it. "Joy, joy, joy... I hope you feel it." And then I get a text from another man, I can feel his joy as well...
I'm talking to a few men on the phone regularly, just for the sake of it. I imagine that I own a telephone club, telling stories to total strangers. And plus, everything is for free. I get to play the fantasy girl—ageless, whatever their type of girl is, funny but not vulgar, innocent but not tedious. A customized radio, solely for the you whom I do not know. I am thinking of buying a mug with Candace Owens on it. The left calls her crazy, but what is crazy is the world, not her. I feel like she's just trying to process what's in front of her while making a couple of mistakes. But the media seems to be full of shit, no longer even embarrassed to lie, so why leave it up to the individual to tell the truth? We are all cowards, not able to face reality. I am going to wear a Tim Walz T-shirt (yes, I do have one) and drink a cup of tea from a mug with a picture of Candace Owens. See here, I am a walking contradiction, wearing everything I've found on this planet earth—a s...
I woke up in the morning, it's time for work. New Year's was not bad. I got to spend some time with my family, travel and see the world. All the noise I hear every day from YouTube felt smaller when compared to the reality that I am facing. "Walking"—that's it. That's the ultimate purpose of life. Everything else is mere supplement to the wonderful walking you can experience in a lifetime. Even literature? Of course, even literature. I think the dogs would agree. "Literature? What's so fun about that compared to sniffing around and knowing the world?" (Bow) "I have no idea." (Wow) However, my short stay in the city, which started off so perfectly, with me walking around a nothing-nothing town, feeling and feeling, finding nothing and buying nothing, just as I intended, ended up quite torturous. I forgot my sleeping pills, and the city hotel where I longed to stay for quite a while became a hellish place for me. Locked up in a bland sma...