I didn’t like the checkmark. I didn’t want it.

I just… wanted to prove, at least to myself, that the fairness, the rules that they said applied to everyone, applied to me.

And they just fucking didn’t.

I didn’t even care about the harassment.

I thought it was funny.

At one point I had about 33-34 people stalking me. These people were not subtle about it. They weren’t smart. It was some Internet troll bullshit that made me smile, because, I had people I had said one thing to, and they fucking got so angry that they tracked me and tried to hurt me for a decade.
Yeesh.

But then, they were gone. They were gone, and I had won.

But they’d fucked around for about 11 goddamned years.

And Twitter did nothing.

Unfairness

This is the feeling that I want to get out of my chest.

I was lied to. People told me: if you do the work, and meet the criteria, then you’ll get it.

No you won’t. It’s fucking bullshit. I always knew that it was a carrot on a stick, but, the reality is, there’s no fairness.

The thing that pisses me off is not that they were lying; but that they think that they’re smart enough to lie to me. That I’m dumb enough that they can just tell me fucking anything, and I’ll fall for that bullshit.

That is the reason why I started testing this, all those years ago.

They’re fucking liars.

I feel better.

The post Unpacking the Trauma of this appeared first on icze4r communication.

The Internet stopped being good for me at about 1997. 1999, maybe, at the latest. There were always portions of it that was deleterious— there were things that I wished would change, but I largely ignored them, thinking that a better world was possible.

Oh, yes— a better world is possible.

It’s just not possible with human beings.

There are a lot of things that human beings have said to me. The base impulse that human beings have, when I point out that something that the species is doing is disgusting, repulsive, or otherwise amoral, is that I was the one with the problem.

But really, the problem is that human beings do so many horrible things, and they operate on the basis of human primacy— this idea that the ends always justify the means, if human beings like the ends.

One cannot convince a monster that it is a monster. Not in this circumstance, anyways.

The year is 2026, and I have been perseverating on here, for nearly 30 full years. Arcadium has been gone for longer than the lifespans of most people reading this.

And, furthermore, I have won.

So there’s no reason to stay here anymore.

I’ll do my work to improve my web presence. But that’s it.

There is nothing left to do here.

Goodbye.

The post A Change appeared first on icze4r communication.

I’ve reached a point where I have nothing to say to anybody on here.

I could say a lot of different things. But the crux of it is all the same—

It’s not really in how people reacted when my father died. I didn’t really care. It was shocking, but not terribly so. I took it in stride. People are horrible.

It was that, when my mother got cancer and needed people’s help, and I realized I was surrounded by monsters and fools, that was it.

It’s not even that I’ve seen cats get more money donated to them than my mother did. Or that I raised five million dollars for you people.

It’s that I can’t trust you. It’s that I can’t trust you, and I don’t feel any kinship with you.

I’m tired of watching stupid people fail. And I’m tired of being stuck in their thrall.

Goodbye. You have lost me forever.

The post Bye. appeared first on icze4r communication.

I check my e-mail.

‘Violation’. Please check our Moderation Center . . .

Instantly, my heartrate jumps! But not too much. This has happened too much before. It makes no bloody sense; not for this website. I’m very careful on this particular website. I’ve learned to be very careful everywhere; because, if I were to get ‘banned’ from any of my social media websites, I feared that my Google SEO would fail.

When did I become so goddamned dependent on this?

I didn’t used to care about this.

What happened?

I try to see what the supposed ‘violation’ is. It reads, ‘user not found’. Odd; my profile is still ‘intact’. I can still log-in. I jump out of bed, legs first, like I’m doing that cool Martial Artist ‘get up from the ground’ animation, and I hop onto my computer.

“Please log in.”

I’m already logged in.

I log in.

My wristwatch buzzes. It’s given me a 2Fa code; but there’s no place to put it.

I log in again.

My wristwatch buzzes.

There’s still no place to put this bloody code.

I’m in.

I look for the ‘violation’.

I see it.

A moderator has, damned near in the middle of the night, flagged some anime fanart (that is not too well-drawn), as being ‘sexual’.

There is no nudity.

There is a line between the characters’ legs.

They choose not to show me the picture. I just right click the blurred image, and search for it.

It’s just a line between the characters’ legs. The seam of the shorts they’re wearing.

They thought it was a vagina.

At first, I remember when I ‘saved’ that image. I didn’t upload it; I shared it.

So I got in trouble for sharing it. A thing that Bluesky tried to do to some people.

I’m getting tired.

So I didn’t do it; I did nothing wrong; I remember looking at the image, going, ‘is that a vagina? No, that must be a seam in the pants; it’s just, that’s such a little thing. No need to worry about it; I didn’t even upload it,’ and I shared it.

Still got dinged.

And now, that’s eternal.

I’m tired of this.

I’ve known that the Internet was not forever. Hardly anything ever is; but especially not anything that human beings ‘make’.

And now, I’m tired. I’m tired of the constant din; I’m tired of the constant, ‘raise your blood pressure; you’re in trouble!’, stress-panic response I have, when some underpaid dipshit presses a button, and sets in motion an entire cycle of events that I want no place in.

Online, the whole thing is, you’re determined to be in the wrong. Every single time. And the people who have decided this, they tell you— ‘appeal’.

I will not appeal. I did for this one; I want to see what happens.

But for Reddit?

Begging for mercy makes me angry. And I won’t be doing that with people who banned me for telling others to stop breaking the law.

The reality of the situation, is this: I’m leaving. There’s no stopping it. There’s no bargaining with it. There’s no telling me, oh, you’re burnt out; take a break, and come on back.

Here’s the reality.

I fucking loathe you.

I loathe every single thing that human beings put me through. I just want to live in peace; have some fun; collect nice t’ings; and be left alone.

So I’m going to pursue that.

I’m so tired of stupid people creating chaos for me, and then demanding that I ‘solve’ it.

Go to Hell, every single one of you who’s like this.

I’d rather be alone and have no social media than deal with this stupid fucking bullshit one more second.

Let me tell you what my dream is.

My dream is to be able to live, alone, away from all of humanity, untouched by their fucking bullshit.

My entire life, all 40-some years of it, has been beset on all sides by stupid people making messes that I’ve had to clean up. I’m tired of it.

I want to be alone. And I want to be left alone.

And that will be my paradise.

I want to be in a place where the stupid actions of powerful monkeys have no effects on me.

And I’m going there.

I’m going back to the starship.

And when I get there, I will build my home.

The post The Last Straw appeared first on icze4r communication.

I remember one day that a stranger told me that I had the patience of a saint; of an angel. And of all the things that I’ve done in this life, of all the shit I’ve seen, there’s only one thing that I’ve come in contact with that perfectly encapsulates my lived experience.

It’s this video.

This is my life. This has been my life since I was 3 years old. When I realized, with horror, that every adult around me was not only not as smart as I was, but they were angry. They were angry, and vindictive, and ape-like.

This is my life. Every single day, I wake up, and I try to have some fun. I start anew. And every single day, my brain gets real fucking sad, because, do you know where the round peg goes? That’s right— the SQUARE HOLE!

It’s Idiocracy out there, now. Elon has the Department of Government Efficiency— DOGE. He’s posting the most basic-ass-bitch memes you’ve ever seen, though now they’re -ist as fuck.

And on the other hand, we have Bluesky, which is like if Tumblr shoved its cock up Twitter’s ass and was now wearing it like a cocksleeve. Just like an elf, Bluesky can have many versatile roles in any given party!

The thing that infuriates me— that’s not the right word, but, it’s like, it makes me feel like I don’t really have any place here, that I cannot have any real fun— is, everybody’s either a fucking racist, a Neo-Nazi, or they’re the most easily-offended fucker I’ve ever seen.

I don’t like it. I, in fact, hate it.

And I want to go Home.

I thought that, after all this shit ended, and I was finally allowed to go back Home, that I would maybe update shit online.

Fuck that.

I quit. The minute I get out of here, I’m gone.

This sucks, dude.

Being Too Unique

The thing that bothers me the most about people online is that they have this preternatural desire to be more ‘unique’ than everybody else. But they do it in the most-narcissistic way possible: they want the rules to never apply to them.

In a phrase, humans cannot allow any Gods before them. And that’s why I don’t want to be around them anymore.

Because it’s just grating to see the same fucking behavior, all day long! I browsed Reddit again for less than a minute last night (because, but of course, none of these people are smart enough to know how to actually permanently ban my account), and, boy fucking howdy, nothing on there made me happy.

It’s just the same shit! “Look at me!” And nobody gives a shit about anybody else but themselves. Sometimes, not even themselves!

And it’s tiresome. There’s no fun here.

Gods, if I could just leave.

I would stop complaining if I could just leave.

The post Incorrigible. appeared first on icze4r communication.