2022 8 31 - the future will come

i missed this future letter yesterday so i'm writing it today. i don't really want to write it though; i have other things to do. i have to do some actual work, and i also have another thing i want to write. so i'm going to mostly skip this, at least for now, and start writing my other thing. it's a future-tense story about a guy at a bus stop who sees a woman. very charlie kaufman-esque because everything i do is charlie kaufman-esque. i hope it works out though.

okay i'm back to the future because i'm not creative enough to keep writing the other thing. i am only ambitious. i have no inspiration, only ambition. but i want to write this thing because i love music and i love feeling and i love making people feel things even though i don't think i ever really do, it's more about making myself feel things i guess. and can you guess that i've started drinking coffee. i'm listening to Hold My Hand by Wild Pink and Julien Baker.

i have to be in a dumb training about emotional intelligence now, it's on zoom and i have my camera off and microphone off and i feel bad for the facilitators. i have been looking up poems just to use as text files for git demonstration purposes, and there are some good ones. but most of them don't really do much for me. i feel like poems should be better.

now it's wednesday. it's 1:15pm et. i'm writing some stuff and exploring some old writing that i should delete. you don't remember.

i hope you haven't gone crazy again. even though i kind of want to feel that feeling again. i have been thinking a lot about empty individualism. atemporal life through empty individualism. ali and i watched total recall. kind of like that. all of my memories could be completely false. the only thing i know for sure is that i exist, my consciousness exists, in this one tiny moment. i'm here now. i may not have existed two seconds ago. this could be the first moment of my existence. i may not exist ten seconds from now. i remember existing, but my memories might be implanted. it doesn't matter.

the feeling is like really strong deja vu. i still get small deja vu sometimes, but the feeling only really comes when it feels like reality is breaking. when it feels like something is wrong, like it's all fake. it's all an elaborate hoax.

i realized that all i really want is love. i have wanted to create things, i have wanted to do things, but all of that comes to the desire for everyone to love me. i don't actually care about connecting with people on tiktok. the only reason i want to be smart or funny or interesting or real or anything is that i want people to love me. i keep coming back to wanting to learn to meditate so well that it makes all of my desire go away. but i don't want my desire to go away. i want to fulfill my desire.

i think "meaning is a means to an end" is a really effective aphorism. but i don't think i actually believe it. i think meaning is the best thing you can ever feel. pure meaning. that's what it feels like when that thing happens to me. it feels like everything is meaningful. everything that has ever happened has had a purpose. and it's one thing to just say that, and even believe it, but to actually feel it is indescribable. even though i'm describing it. what i mean to say is that i am not capable of doing it justice with words. i keep feeling like if i could accurately describe it, then i could explain it to someone and they would feel it too. like a disease. a happiness disease. but it's not happiness. it's not euphoria. it's not ecstasy. it's not peace, it's not equanimity. maybe transcendence is a closer word. it feels like enlightenment. but it also feels incredibly good. just straight up great. i hear about people who have done things like 5-meo-DMT or MDMA or stuff like that, and i wonder what they feel. apparently those are super "high valence" experiences. but they're just looking at patterns. but they're also conversing with extra-dimensional beings. it's strange because my stuff was all here. no hallucinations. and it seemed more indicative of something hidden deep in the human brain. some perspective shift. i should not want to feel it again, but i absolutely do. i want to feel it. it feels so good. but it's not just good. it's full. it's wholesome. it's pure love. but then why was it so scary? why are there so many mixed up ideas? how could it possibly have meant anything if i did such a terrible job of deciphering its meaning? i did some straight up crazy person stuff. but boy do i want to go back.

i am thinking too much about desire. i have no desire to eliminate desire. i feel like then i would just be empty. i have to make my website. i have to make a viral tiktok. i have to write a poem that changes the world. i have to learn to meditate so well that i achieve transcendence. i have to enjoy life. i have to die. i have to figure out my philosophy.

it's 4:49pm now. i should be done for sure. i'm going to send this. no i'm not. they blocked futureme. this sucks. i don't know what to do now. i guess i can just store this in drive. whatever man. this is a bummer.