really sticks in my craw just now, that dad waited until after the farm was sold, to tell me it breaks his heart that neither son took over the farm.

what a fucking idiot.

1, for waiting until it was sold to tell me how much that meant to him. what a fucking idiot.

2, what does he think would have happened if he had just given me the farm. ... i'd have taken it over, become a farmer.

what a fucking idiot.

i fucking hate that guy.

not just for the life ruining beating that i still have ptsd for, n live in my one room, with the door baracaded, in fear of him, tensing up, not knowing when the next unexpected beating will come (it only took the 1).

what a fucking idiot.

what else has been held back?

what caused him to not ever share how much that meant to him?

was it mum? was mum for some misguided reason encouraging/insisting he not say this to me?

breaks his heart... what a fucking idiot.

infuriating communication fail.

makes me wonder what that beating was even about, as i have many times over the years. maybe there was a reason given at the time, i dont remember, no one ever remembers why they were physically punished, only that they took a beating, n that's the lesson they take from it. physical punishment does not work. i suspect there was other psychology going on with him at the time he dished out that beating. i perhaps most frequently suspect it was something to do with my difficulties in early puberty, coping with that estrogen flux boys get, but not sure how i'd ever get that confirmed. infuriating communicatins fails in this family. maybe that beating was in furstration at me not wanting to be a farmer.

i would love to be a farmer.

fucking idiot.

i just have never had the fortitude for the amount of physical labour n exposures, and this was fairly obvious from childhood.

all that physically forking in silage that used to be done... i cant do that. that's what i saw farming as, that's all they ever showed me of it. that, and shifting cows from feild to feild. way to get me engaged n inspired to be a farmer. farce.

oh to be a hemp farmer. i would so relish the chance.

n it's not like the farm's so small it couldnt be done by hiring people to look after it.

heck, i'd even open it up community gardens style, for a few of the feilds less suited to big machinery doing planting n harvesting.

but that's all gone now.

the fucking idiot sold it, THEN tells me how much it meant to him.

i only learned of this, as a whataboutism defensive kneejerk response to.... i forget what i was saying to him... probably trying to explain how much it hurt to have them have coaxed me away from focussing on my health into designing a house at great pains for 3 years refining with the architect, setting my health back decades, and then to force me under duress, to say yes to a redesign that inverts all the life-affirming design elements, while pretending to be offering what changes to refine it, wearing me down, coerced under duress to agree to ... well, my death. as i told them repeatedly then and since. trying to explain all that, in a capsule form, is not easy, but i think i mananged it that one day... if it was indeed that. n instead of trying to engage in compassion with what that was i was saying to him, i got that reactionary hostile angry whataboutism, something along the lines of "well what about how neither son took over the farm, that broke my heart".

how long had that been bottled up? how was that not the topic of conversation every meal time, back when i could sit n have meals with them... fucking idiot. instead, lets wait until its sold, n then mere weeks after it's sold then tell ... fucking idiot.

so pissed off at the fucking stupidity of that. what epic fail.

and now the farm's gone. out of the family.

that does sting.

no, i never intended to be a farmer. i was raised on the idea that farming was endless hours of manually forking in silage, breaking backs, in an environment that induces asthma and eczema. i never intended to be a back-broken itchy wheezer prone to being kicked or crushed by cow or bull. i never intended to expose myself to that much hard work, and danger, for fuck-all pay... is how it seemed to me. and no one ever seemed to try to dispell this perception. fucking idiots. where was the "oh, no son, not at all, farming is lovely..." fucking idiots. boggles the mind.

what the fuck is wrong with them? how did they let it come to pass like this? some of it, i can look at, n it looks like the most vicious calculated sadism, n other parts of it, it's just fucking stupid. so fucking outrageously stupid. like take a step back, look at it fresh... oh, that's fucking stupid. why would you ever do it like that? it's fucking stupid. so stupid. stupid, stupid, stupid. fucking idiotic. head crushingly so. mind implosions at the stupidity.

rage inducingly stupid.

is that where my rage comes from? putting up with inscesant stupid abounding all around? i suffocate in the stupid.

or maybe my rage comes from the traumas, the beatings, the being the bottom wrung on the family that all beat on, n me being the bad guy when i tried to fight back. i was big on picking things up n throwing them, or using something that could keep those larger stronger attackers at bay.

it probably all felt all the more innocent n harmlessly normal at the time. looking back, i see what criminal torture it was. never realised at the time how not normal, how unacceptable, that was. not until my friends, oft fellow youngest siblings, would point out things like how they got same sized presents come christmas n birthdays, to their older siblings, which contrast to my experience of always getting the smaller crapper older versions of any presents. i'm not sure the fucking idiots knew the psychelogical damage they were doing, what they were implanting and reaffirming repeatedly with that, constantly.

when i remember this, i dont beat myself up so much for the rages, for the outbursts, the overwhelmed overloads that cause maladaptive coping reactions. like that time i knocked my brother out, infront of his kids. that was not good. but when i remember it in the context of all that had past transpired, and the torture i was going through at the time... it's easier to have compassion for me, n not just condemn me, to acknowledge the broader causes, the psychelogical strains, the past traumas n wounds, and not to mention the outright needing to listen to myself n when i know i'm not fit for going out, not to push it in some nonsensical delusional cultural expectation bullshit "oh, i must, because mum urged, n they need to see me, n i need to see them, n blah blah blah". no. fending off panic attacks n rages... that was way too much to try to sit there n play happy family, with the people who had fucked up my life so bad that by the time i was about 14, i had decided i was gonna kill myself. by the time i was 17, it was already done in my mind, just waiting for the right circumstances, n i would be gone, poof, like an accident, n no one need known how much i was suffering, no one need have that extra pain of realising they'd not known how much i was suffering or how much they played roles in causing that suffering. ... of course, then i found cannabis, thanks to "if i'm going to die anyway...", still deluded by the anti-drug propaganda we got in school. if it had been heroin... eesh. thankfully it was cannabis, n it gave me the space to think through my problems. litterally saved my life. twas only about the 3rd or 4th time trying cannabis that i realised it had helped me in that regard. over the months n years following, i grew to learn it was helping with many other ailments too. found the urge, the need, to live, n to help undo the nonsense that held this essential away from everyone.

how better the world could be if we took the brakes off cannabis. how much can be healed. how many fucking idiots would have the space to think, to stop being fucking idiots. if we took the brakes off the herb.

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new soffmi


new soffmi muhod album released today!


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why are you not scared?

as is mentioned on the Why section on freepo.st, specifically the paragraph about privacy: you become constantly watched by somebody who can do pretty much whatever they want with your personal data, because you've "agreed" with the "license agreement" that they can. This is by very far the most serious argument that people seem not to understand, because they always say "so what? What I'm doing with their service is of little value anyway!".

and then, not only anything with your data, but those with "above the law" power over you...

why are you not scared?

were we not supposed to have various things set up to prevent such predicaments?

why has an agreement under duress become considered an agreement?

why are you not scared?

is it because you look around and see loads of other people not scared?

why are they not scared?

are you a lemming?

are you a lemming?

Posted by Digit | Permalink


i confess

im gonna watch one day at a time... just for rita. oh my goodness she so yummy! (or at least was on last night's last week tonight with john oliver).

Posted by Digit | Permalink


what arrogance to believe

what arrogance to believe.

over time, with consideration of broadening perceptions and conceptions of witnessings of contexts, any belief encountered, in that context(s), cannot really hold.

no belief, stands, after consideration.

do i believe that?


does that mean i disbelieve that?


for what is disbelief than believing it is not. a mere rephrasing. it's not boolean, it's not 1/0, it's not black/white, it's not on/off, it's not purely one thing OR the other. is it not?

do i really believe that?


does that mean i disbelieve that?


is this conception difficult to grasp? is this perception difficult to step into?

for those who cling to beliefism, perhaps likely as a result of their conflating their beliefs with their self/life/existence, such that their lower survival brain stem kicks in loud before the consideration can even take place, i would imagine generally seemingly so. very difficult.

letting go belief, for a moment, the universe does not collapse into callamity, your life n behaviours dont suddenly get thrown into the wildest widest chaotic dangerous random psycho hell. it doesnt happen, it doesnt work like that, get over yourself, your belief is not what was holding everything together, you are not your beliefs. let go. you arrogant fool. arrogant, self-blinding, self-deluding, fool. and i love you. there's no condemning judgement for you having been doing this. it is foolish. and i'm not condemning or judging you when i say that. the thought occurs, i wonder how i even could? if i've decoupled from belief, i've not decided in brief, not closed the doors to all other possibilities in my arrogance to decide what i percieve is what i must believe... if that is so how you decide to believe.

maybe for some to believe is a softer more maleable thing. like for some a rare drink containing alcohol with an ocassional meal is just that, and it does not become a more dominant life shaping force.

it's surely quite addicting, to believe, to get that endorphin kick of ever being right... if that's how you then double down on your belief or if it's just that initial.

some might use the word belief to refer to "think likely", or some kind of supposition, but still all the while holding true to their belief that they could also be wrong, n that the probabilities are too weak in favour of any certainty.

but is this really belief? is it really non-belief? are these questions help goad your thoughts to the ideas and insights that transcend the boolean? even though they're worded, embeded in the language of this way or that, of yes/no, of is, is not, and so on?

well you'll need that training, that challenge, to transcend that. stepping away in humility from the arrogance of believing does not mean in your meekness you'll also be weak. you need to get tooled up. ;) let's whimsically say, "there be dragons", lol.

outside of curated belief systems, there's sure many more interesting nuance to be encountered than likely either of us are likely to imagine... i mean, there's always more. like setting sail out on the ocean of mind. and did i mention getting you tooled up, yes? how about we get you not just a sail, but some paddels, and an outboard engine, and more, much much more. life jackets, themeselves fully kitted out. well, i say fully... obviously what i'm getting at here, is the continuing augment.

open to more.

when you close, when you presume to know, when you believe, when you decide what's what, you miss more. sometimes that's even a conscious functional decision. more often, i suspect, it's unconscious habituation, and entrained habituation, and trained habituation... none of it inate, none of it highest ideal, none of it humbliung yourself to continue opening to more. and no, it's not about opening your mind to catch all thoughts as beliefs, that's you back to making foolish conflations again.

the tricky thing of this to explain, for me to express, with my aptitude n ineptitude, is, it is itself is sticky, is weighted, is attractive, n like i said, addictive, as well as also being already entrenched in the language, and all the many entrainments. what, did you think i believe myself above this, to have fully transcended out of belief, with all my advocacy of non-belief? hey, if it helps, this is the blind leading the blind here. i'm just another blind man grabbing at this portion of the elephant.

n the elephant is.

now i hope you've noticed my increased use of the word is there. is is key.


the is.

that what is.

that which is.

the is which is.

it's beyond any of our utterings about it.

some of us strive to catch it. to catch the is.

great many overlapping layers and angles of philosophy, into religions, sciences, and more.

the is is beyond our utterings of the is.

or is it.

is the is, responsive...

now you've been present for someone offering some notion of is, n is, the is, n that is notion is is not, you might be feeling a little incredulity, or curiosity, or... what are you feeling...


what are you feeling?

that is.

now what else is going on out in the world?

in the cosmos?

that bit before your conceptions of what that is, is like a glimpse into the is.

you cant catch it.

it simply is.

you can believe, but then you deceive.

ths is sits beyond your belief.

it simply is.

what about reality?

am i not just saying "is" in a janky replacement way for referencing "reality"?

well, kinda yea, kinda nae, kinda some of what you say.

but, well, i've vague distant memories of looking into the etymology of "reality", and "real", and it being some loopy case of that arrogant belief preceeding reality projectioning, that reaffirmation of the arrogant self, rather than the open responsive self... i mean, the writer writes, but the believer believes not, if that makes sense... like once the chips are thrown... well, no, i mean, maybe the chips can be unthrown, but...

ugh this is really akward to explain.

14 years since my eurika "is"ness insight moment, and i still struggle this much to convey such a simple conception in words to people.

ideas, exist beyond words.

some, who i imagine have higher verbal aptitudes (or are just more gullably susceptable), believe if you cannot conceive of a word you cannot hold a thought. this is not my experience, but i do again see there's more folly in the defaulting use of belief there, rather than what's being believed.

now, some might read this n think what arrogance to believe not.


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