nothing can stop me now

the world is rife with politcal factions, personal loyalties, and moral adheretions. who can you really trust? this question has been on my mind for ages now. and i think i'm beginning to see a clearer picture. the answer that is slowly forming out of the fuzz has been guiding me as of late; guiding me down new alleys and avenues i have never before explored.

being one of the Ancient Discordians, i've had the pleasure of seeing the evolution of the world from very close to the beginning.

i've seen those who are like shooting stars, appearing briefly in a blaze of glory and disappearing forever afterwards. i've seen young seedlings mature into staunch oaks; i've seen demons from the depths appear suddenly and leave a wake of destruction before blinking out just as abruptly. i've observed crystallizations and meltdowns; public skirmishes and silent wars. i was not just an anthropologist, however. i was participating all along.

thankfully as i've grown my meta-awareness has increased ten-fold and now it's all clear to me. not only do i see the greater picture of the present and the older canvases it was painted upon, but i also see my place in it.

my path has not followed that most others' have taken. and to whatever guides my fate, if there is anything, i am thankful. it has given me the power that i have gathered today that wouldn't exist had other realities occurred.

so... trollaxor: crapflooder? writer? no-talent hack? satirical genius? spurned, scorned, neglected; loved, revered, admired? does he belong? where? not here? over there? a loner? outcast? banished? or clan-leader? shaman, prophet? nice guy, rapcallion? what is true? what is not?

it became clear to me in a dream the other night. like Colussus, who gained sentiency, it all came together in a single instant with unimaginable potential energy waiting in the wings. finally, after years of meandering and wallowing, challenging, retreating, returning, evolving, i have gained not just self-awareness but cosmis awareness. what was in me was already signifigant-- it was the meta that made it exponentially more powerful. i am not just aware; i am. and i now see what must be done.

nothing, and no one, can stop me now.

	Please... (none / 0) (#1)
	by derek3000 on Thu Mar 21st, 2002 at 04:31:55 PM PST

	don't kill yourself. It's not worth it. ---------------- "Feel me when I bring it!" --Gay Jamie

	Question: (none / 0) (#3)
	by The Mad Scientist on Thu Mar 21st, 2002 at 09:16:56 PM PST

	don't kill yourself. It's not worth it. How can you be so sure if you apparently hadn't successfully tried?

	Value is subjective. (none / 0) (#7)
	by derek3000 on Fri Mar 22nd, 2002 at 05:18:58 AM PST

	Which is why I'm not surprised that someone who spends their whole day working on computers believes that life is worthless. ---------------- "Feel me when I bring it!" --Gay Jamie

	Spooge (none / 0) (#2)
	by jvance on Thu Mar 21st, 2002 at 05:10:51 PM PST

	crackle Clean up on aisle five! -- Adequacy has turned into a cesspool consisting of ... blubbering, superstitious fools arguing with smug, pseudointellectual assholes. -AR

	You seem to have forgotten a poll option. (2.50 / 2) (#4)
	by Anonymous Reader on Thu Mar 21st, 2002 at 09:44:38 PM PST

	"Deluded, lying breeder-wannabe" comes to mind. Just get over yourself, will you?

	You should have... (5.00 / 1) (#5)
	by Ernest Bludger on Thu Mar 21st, 2002 at 09:47:37 PM PST

	taken the blue pill instead.

	except (5.00 / 2) (#6)
	by nathan on Thu Mar 21st, 2002 at 10:06:47 PM PST

	For those meddling kids. Nathan -- Li'l Sis: Yo, that's a real grey area. Even by my lax standards.

	I have no time for those that start sentences (1.66 / 3) (#8)
	by Slobodan Milosevic on Fri Mar 22nd, 2002 at 07:37:46 AM PST

	without the use of a capital letter.

	Okay (2.14 / 7) (#9)
	by Anonymous Reader on Fri Mar 22nd, 2002 at 08:29:33 AM PST

	so... trollaxor: crapflooder? Obviously writer? Yes, although please note that the term "writer" does not imply any sort of quality to said writing no-talent hack? Check satirical genius? Time for a whack from the Flaming Blue Cluehammer: Writing stories about your own feces is not "satire", kiddo. spurned, scorned, neglected; Yes. Rightfully so. loved, revered, admired? Perhaps. By who I have no idea, but there are lots of seriously sick people in this world. does he belong? where? I would try Burma. not here? I wholeheartedly second that. over there? As long as "there" is not "here", I wholeheartedly second that as well. a loner? outcast? banished? or clan-leader? shaman, prophet? nice guy, rapcallion? Bah, who has time for this crap. You are generally considered to be a meddlesome mental midget of a moron. HTH

	Bite, Bitey, Bite! (5.00 / 1) (#10)
	by Anonymous Reader on Fri Mar 22nd, 2002 at 08:40:03 PM PST

	Bah, who has time for this crap... You mean besides you? Sux0r.