lostparliament: Avatar of Sherry F. Arresters from SOUND VOLTEX, as depicted in the song Hydroblast. (Default)
I write the first few words of this post at 21:49 on July 23rd, 2024.

Today marks roughly 18 months since I vowed to never again make a video on Yugioh, to never again candidly share my thoughts on a game that eventually opened so many doors in my personal life.

I closed that door for a number of reasons. I've been quite transparent about those reasons before. Perhaps I'm rehashing old ground by mentioning it again. But there's a lingering consciousness that remains, deeply rooted at the back of my mind. A friend likened it to a fungal infection, something that still hurts despite how long it's been since I last made any substantial thoughts on the game.

My reasons for stepping away from Yugioh content creation are numerous, both in scale and depth.

As a creator, the amount of work I would have to put in, effectively much more than was worth for someone very new to the race, combined with the overwhelming research that needed to be done between each video, was tiring. I would essentially be doing a whole spreadsheet's worth of secondary analysis, entirely by myself, to predict trends well over a month before being proven right or wrong. My hypotheses had to be airtight, my workflow bulletproof - all for what? A 10-minute video that would be completely useless by the next calendar season? I might have been better off in a black company. To top it off, I would constantly have to expose myself to what felt like some of the most obstinate, uncompromising group of people I've ever imagined. A (potential) audience of people who constantly clamour for rational debate, but refuse to hear anything remotely resembling factual sense. Many of my close friends (and fellow creatives) have since told me it sounds like being a YGO creator takes a degree of masochism to be somewhat successful in the long-term space, and looking back on it now, I feel like they're not wrong.

As a person, making YGO content proved to be unfulfilling. There's a reason why I denote my YGO videos as "content" and my catalogue of videos from the Revue Starlight piece onwards as anything but that term, and it isn't just because I look back on my old work with some degree of disappointment. Yugioh is a game that does not lend itself particularly well to creative aspirations in much the same way as other topics, especially considering the videos I've made in the 18 months since my last YGO-related video. You can make a similar argument for other trading card games too. As I kept making YGO content, I found myself at a crossroads with the level I wanted to work towards - there were nearly limitless possibilities for historical and artistic analyses and perspectives that I could pursue, and yet I had deluded myself into believing that doing this, for just a little bit longer, would give me the chops of editing knowledge that I could then use to make those aspirations a reality. I had stunted my own potential for growth on so many levels because I didn't realise that it was okay to fail this much, so early on.

I didn't have anyone to teach me these lessons.
I didn't have anyone to hold me by the shoulder and tell me this.
I didn't have to find this out the hard way.

And yet, I stand here now.

I've joked with a few of my friends, some of whom are talented creatives in other fields, that making Yugioh videos for the brief, yet committed period that I did, was the basis for a kind of psychosis. I still wrestle with the poor habits I cultivated during that time when I work on more personally engaging ventures. A desire to maintain deadlines. A paranoid degree of attention to detail. A dread of opening DaVinci Resolve and loathing a new video despite being immensely passionate for the topic. There's still a part of me that has to battle with the awful feeling of "just getting it done" when I know I'm not bounded by these constraints any more. It infuriates me. I can't even articulate exactly why.

I recently learned that one particular friend is playing through Suda51 games, in particular the "No More Heroes" series. It reminded me that I had some related games in my back catalogue, namely "The Silver Case." Revisiting that game's core philosophy, alongside watching a video essay on the game, unlocked that door in the back of my mind that I've refused to look at for so long now.

To move on from Yugioh content creation for good, I need to come to terms with it. I need to kill the past.

The opening act of The Silver Case features the protagonists of an earlier game directed by Suda Goichi, Moonlight Syndrome. In this opening act, they serve as the primary threat and introduction to the wider story, namely the thematic statement of "kill the past" that echoes so often throughout the rest of the game. As these protagonists succumb to a psychosis of their own and are ruthlessly gunned down by authoritarian cops to maintain a pretense of order in the fictional 24th Ward, you come to first learn of the name "Kamui." This name is initially believed to be the identity of a legendary killer, but eventually morphs into a state of mind, a rationality to explain the sleeper agents who exist to clean house against anyone who flies too close to the sun in learning the "truth."

...I'm rambling here, aren't I? Sorry. Force of habit.

There's a latent psyche in the back of my mind when I think about my Yugioh content in hindsight. It sounds like the ramblings of a madman when I write my feelings out like this. In a way, I see less violent, but no less destructive traces of myself in those who awaken to Kamui. I can't look away from a resentment that I'm unable to control, the sensation of losing agency to feelings I can't stop. Much like Ryo Kazan deliriously rambles "REALGAME" before receiving a whole Colt Officer's ACP to the stomach, I feel myself wordlessly screaming sentiments of regret amidst the nonsense clouding my brain whenever I think about how I got to this stage as a creator. I'm angry, and also upset, that I spent so much time on things that ultimately mean nothing of personal value.

Once upon a time, I would say that I did not regret making YGO content. Now, I realise that I am lying to myself by saying that. Such a decision is one of the greatest mistakes of my life.

I know that there is a subset of people among my audience who will read this, and will likely be offended at how I express my thoughts on YGO content. Some of these people either know, or are content creators themselves. I apologise for how strong my wording is in this piece. But I also acknowledge that writing this is a form of closure that I have denied myself for a long time now.

Looking at serious discussions on the state of Yugioh now, it surprises me that people continue to argue in good faith without an interest in the wider context. I don't particularly care about Konami enough to bat for a corporation, nor do I have any real stake in offering my own insight on the game anymore. It simply tires me thinking that I used to care enough to comment on it, knowing that I wasted time on trying to change the mindset of anyone but myself. There's no real place for me in a community of people that appear mostly content with arguing for change, rather than striving for it. I just want my time back.

Perhaps there's nothing of substance to me saying all of this in the end. Maybe I just needed to vent again. Whatever the case, finally being able to articulate these thoughts might be what finally pushes me to stop thinking about this, once and for all. I need to move on from Yugioh content, from discussing the game entirely. Change myself for the better, rather than hoping this space I observe from the outside doesn't change for the worse.

I hope that a flower can eventually bloom, somewhere amidst the sun and rain.

Today, I finally kill the past.
lostparliament: Avatar of Sherry F. Arresters from SOUND VOLTEX, as depicted in the song Hydroblast. (Default)
Salutations. You may have read the title of this post and had a thought similar to "you are delusional" rise up in your head.

A quick briefing before I explain myself in more detail - I have kept myself informed on the state of competitive YGO since 2012, having taken a break between 2016-2022 to play Sound Voltex. Though I have not competed in any major tournament settings beyond the local level since learning the game on a "competitive" level, I am at least at the level where I have an intermediate understanding of competitive play.

With that background out of the way, what do I mean by "how Sound Voltex made me a better YGO player," and how do two completely unrelated games that happen to be developed by the same parent company (Konami) correlate in any way?

Let me begin with the evergreen adage - "play more."

To the rhythm game players who read this, you will undoubtably kiss your teeth and turn your nose upwards in a manner best described as casual annoyance, while this statement will hold no such resonance to the Yugioh folk at home who grow tired of my prose.

In the wider rhythm game genre, the phrase "play more" is the advice given to any player looking for any potential foundations for improvement, a phrase as ethereal as it is frustratingly vague. Like telling a new YGO player to start learning the game through reading a Swordsoul guide, the sentiment has good intentions, aimed to ease you into the process of independent study so that you take a more reflective approach to understanding your game on a greater scale than the material you engage with from credit to round. It's meant to be as open-ended as possible, because having lesser freedom of agency doesn't encourage players to learn the intricacies of Yugioh or rhythm games. Rather, it establishes the opposite perspective, the idea that you must follow the process from A to Z. Can you say you're really learning anything if the first step is basically reading an IKEA manual? You develop bad habits that you depend on too much as a player, superficial crutches that later become your defining association with any experiences you may have.

With this in mind, I wish to briefly refute the games that people often compare YGO to. Many equate the process of learning and playing YGO to fighting games like Marvel vs. Capcom, where the execution curve is steep, learning the game is obtuse at best, and you can very easily lose agency with even one minor lapse of judgement.

This is an apt comparison, were it not for the fact that beatmania IIDX exists.

Almost all of the issues that people bring up with YGO (high execution barrier, nearly vertical learning curve, information overload from the legacy format) are the same problems that make IIDX brutally difficult for newer players to pick up. The game has developed such a reputation over its 25-year history that most high-level IIDX players will often tell you to steer well clear until you're already confident enough in at least one other title. Hell, if you look at it a certain way, song removals/revivals are basically the IIDX equivalent of a banlist. Konami has been making legacy titles difficult to learn as a new player for years now, but the problem of poor learning material is a constant factor that still stands to this day. I have my issues with IIDX in the same way I do with YGO, but the former has that "legacy prestige" behind it that can somewhat explain why it's so tough to get into. It makes sense in the context of rhythm games, because the genre already has an accessibility problem that makes self-study even more valuable to the core experience - something YGO has no excuse for, as a game with free simulators like EDOPro at the average player's disposal.

So how did playing SDVX help me improve (even tangentially) at YGO? It all comes back to "play more."

The most common interpretation of "play more" is to experience as much of your chosen game as possible, or in essence, play as many charts as you can relative to your skill level once you hit a wall close to your physical limit. When I was stuck at a certain level of progression (e.g. the level 17-18 wall) one of the best options I had at my disposal was to play more level 14-16 songs.

Study up on fundamentals.
What key knowledge am I missing that would be useful to know at a higher level of play?
Am I currently encouraging any bad habits that should be avoided in future?

Playing with a wider range of options gave me the foundations for self-reflection, like the above questions, that let me think more intuitively about my playstyle, providing me with more focused aims and objectives than the simple "I want to achieve x goal (e.g. skill lv. ∞) by y date" goalposts that people always post and never follow through with. Additionally, it gave me a stronger appreciation for the game beyond my current understanding - how could I say that SDVX was my favourite rhythm game if I didn't give every single song or chart in the game a fair shot, and try learning something each time? By playing both the best and worst of what the game has to offer, I took that information on board and used it to influence my goals to achieve in future sessions. I figured out what I'm good at, and what needs improvement.

That leads me to YGO. I've never been the best player, deckbuilder, or teacher prior to the release of Master Duel, but effectively starting from scratch after six years away from the game reset many of the problematic mentalities I held during my youth. If I wanted to learn the game again, I would have to understand the new hotness. Mess around with decks and cards I would have never never fathomed the existence of back when Ghost Ogre was new.

I picked up a newer midrange deck (Marincess) to establish my fundamentals once more. (It's my pet deck now.)
Tearlaments gave me the motivation to learn decks with more freeform maneuverability.
Against my better judgement, I crafted a whole Labrynth core. Now I understand the main elements of control playstyles.

Playing more isn't always a message borne from laziness. It's advice that stems from poor articulation. Should you choose to arbitrarily limit yourself for whatever reason, the end result will stunt your growth and enjoyment of the game. You don't engage with what the game offers you, but instead pick at your own discretion because the process scares you. That's completely fine and understandable. Nonetheless, I think you should try to step outside your comfort zone by habit, rather than force. Try to veer towards what interests you first, whether that's a new set of charts, or a deck type you don't often play with, and make an effort to sit down with your experiences after each session. Think about it all - the good, the bad, what you were confident with, what requires more fine-tuning.

To end this post on a positive note, I think picking up a new deck, or playing a chart for the first time, is an admirable effort. Rather than viewing it as a stepping stone for your endgoal, think of it as a new perspective on how you already see your chosen game. The greatest initiatives start from the smallest ripples.

I hope this encourages you to try something new, and find a fresh understanding in something you (hopefully) already love so dearly.

If you finish reading this with one core message in mind, let it be this one:
DO NOT RUN AWAY FROM ENDYMION
lostparliament: Avatar of Sherry F. Arresters from SOUND VOLTEX, as depicted in the song Hydroblast. (Default)
The most-liked comment on a public Youtube upload of the album sampling masters 2 gives me some food for thought.

"the first song [Notteldam] is proof of time travel"

Having studied in the school of history for the better part of a decade at this point, it shouldn't strike you as much of a surprise that I am a very big fan of boomer shit. My favourite video game genre is rhythm games. I constantly make references to obscure anime shows only remembered in the annals of numerous homoerotic meme videos. Hell, I am literally friends with several people who ONLY know about weird esoteric shit. I am living in the depths of unknown subculture shite.

That being said, I am frequently reminded that many things in life are never made equal, and one such example is how late 90's, and early 2000s otaku culture seems to be commemorated on the modern internet. Many a video essay is dedicated to the obscure visual novels that dotted the landscape of post-AOL society, often times sold to a small handful of people at conventions you'll have never heard of in your life, but end up terraforming the entire anime scene at large through its influence. You'll see all sorts of articles about the masters for some random dogshit anime that aired once in 2003 and only survived through VHS recordings of a guy in the booth vocal chopped into yelling "SEX" in a NicoNicoDouga video. Don't even get me started on manga... I've read Onani Master Kurosawa, you know I ain't fucking around here.

But what about music? Why does nobody talk about the music?

As I listen (and frequently relisten) to the sampling masters trilogy, this question sticks out in my mind like a loose nail on an IKEA display cabinet. The history of otaku music might be comparative to other aspects in terms of its anomalous history, mainly because it takes inspiration from basically everything in contemporary existence as if some subculture ouroboros, but it's continually neglected in favour of "the banger" culture that seems to have gripped the last 23 years of audio in a death vice. People who get into doujin music through rhythm games nowadays don't even scratch the surface of how this whole microcosm started life. Rather, and I say this with a hint of dejection instead of snideness, they skim the details of the water. They slide and then sink, rather than hop, skip, and jump. It's actually a tad depressing.

I digress. On some level, I understand there's a deeper appeal for unknown anime, manga, and visual novels, that music just doesn't satisfy in the same way. Watching a video by Amelie Doree or Kenny Lauderdale makes it abundantly clear that information on these pieces of otaku history is in vogue. It's in some demand. By contrast, only the most fanatical of sickos would be remotely interested in how the roots of Japanese hardcore (now colloquially and lovingly referred to as J-core) stem almost entirely from near endless respect for revered cult classic anime, and the trailblazing EU-inspired machinations of the sampling masters crew. I get it. The history of music in general just isn't that interesting for most people.

To many in this area of internet culture, DJ SHARPNEL is a name that may not invoke much fanfare. Some may know of a few tracks, mainly through some really old Youtube uploads, but not of the Pandora's Box that such music would unleash upon the teens of the new millennium. Unbeknownst to many, it's hard to dispute that DJ SHARPNEL influenced many elements of what the genre would become today. Heavy anime-inspired aesthetics, hard-hitting (happy) hardcore kicks that really get close and personal, the blending of several other genres that would otherwise make no sense into a strange harmony - listening to the sounds of the earliest High-Speed Music Team Sharpnel releases feels like you barely left the home comfort of 2023 J-core. Take a listen to sharpnel vs. Project Gabbangelion, and I swear down people are just making this shit on Soundcloud like RIGHT NOW. It's uncannily contemporary.

Alternatively, take a look at HARDCORE TANO*C. If you play rhythm games and were born before 9/11 happened, there is a very strong chance you know of this group's existence adjacent to wider Japanese internet subculture. They're basically a household name nowadays, but you cannot talk about doujin music at all without acknowledging their contributions to J-core. The group's first release... didn't age that well, truth be told. However, Qimailla-8k is a groundbreaking shift in J-core history, because it establishes a broader spectrum of influences for bedroom producers to adopt from. No longer were tracks taking their cues from Asuka yelling ad nauseum, the most gritty of Rotterdam gabber only a mother could promote, and, uh, The Brain from Planet Arous? The spectrum was wider, the stage greater. Though the genre was used to describe Japanese artists' interpretations of the hardcore music genre, this may have well been one of the first truly internet-based music genres out there, with a whole sleuth of artists like JAKAZiD occasionally collaborating with TANO*C themselves.

So why do I write this blog post about sampling masters, DJ SHARPNEL, or HARDCORE TANO*C, when the focus of this whole thing was about a greater respect for every aspect of what makes otaku culture so unique? It's because I think many of us have lost touch with our roots. With the advent of newer, cooler fads like gacha games, Vtubers, and an increasing push towards always-online culture, it often feels like many people who were into these obscure, underlooked works have been snared by the trap of shiny things that often feel like they're coupled with an expiration date. I got nothing against any of the aforementioned, but when I look at a Youtube video discussing some underground VN I could never fathom existing in my head, the ephemerality of sampling culture reminds me of what makes these subcultures so great. It's the bizarre immemorialism of shit that should be lost. By some twist of fate, we've stumbled upon something that would have been completely wiped from all but human memory just 40 years ago.

And that's peak.

I feel like people don't appreciate the history of their internet subcultures as much, because it's boring to read about history on the internet. Whether that may be you, that's fine. Totally understandable.

I simply wish towards finer appreciation for otaku history as a whole. Perhaps that will put my sentiments towards the current internet at ease.

[real boomer shit]
lostparliament: Avatar of Sherry F. Arresters from SOUND VOLTEX, as depicted in the song Hydroblast. (Default)
I write this post at a strange time in modern history.

Six years ago, when I dusted off my long-dormant Twitter account to socialise with other like-minded individuals on "freak shit" like anime and rhythm games, I thought the current landscape of the internet was unbreakable. Sure, old services like IRC and Geocities still existed in some capacity, only housing the most freaky of freaks, but there's no way Twitter would cease to be, right?

I mean, there's just no way! It'd take a global pandemic for things to go... wrong...

Alas, we are now here. In what feels like several misguided leaps of faith, Elon Musk has managed to alienate virtually everybody - not only from any goodwill he manifested on his part, but from each other, as well. Many of my friends and associates are either looking for, or have found an alternative, to this sinking ship, but many of them feel derivative of what makes Twitter perfect. It's not the same. It's like playing a bunch of mill cards in Tearlaments for your effects because all the names are limited. It's not the same...

I'm not a fan of decentralised social media networks like Mastodon. They often feel very similar to subreddits - a fiefdom run by the peasantry, often times looking for the next figure to call a despot and eat their faces off. It's a strong comparison, but when you tie it together with the idea that these services often feel very unintuitive at first glance, it perplexes me. Perhaps I am more resistant to change than I believed. BlueSky is no less appealing, being what is effectively worse Twitter but with a... sliding scale of slurs filter??? Awesome, now I can choose whether I want to see people saying the worst shit imaginable! Great website design. Fantastic. And let's not get started on Threads. Sure. I want to sell my soul to Zuckerberg, because the smell on this side of the pond is any more appealing.

My optimism for the internet in its current state isn't very high. Twitter was a melting pot for different groups, speaking different languages, to join together in an almost chaotic kind of harmony, talking about god-knows-what and occasionally getting into fights with people who don't understand the meaning of nuance. And y'know what? That was okay. We didn't need to constantly innovate on the wheel, just because someone with an astounding lack of self-confidence didn't want to get owned for his incompetence anymore. I'll miss the ease of access that Twitter allowed for someone like me. Being able to shout into the void about virtually anything was neat, but I don't think we'll see any similar experiences for a decent while.

Losing that kind of ability to express pretty much anything off the top of one's head, while reserving the actual thoughts for avenues like this, hurts me a fair amount. No longer do I have a remotely convenient avenue to tell people "hey, I uploaded a new Youtube video y'all might like, check it out!" outside of individually messaging every single friend of interest. That might become annoying, VERY quickly. I don't have interest in babysitting several dozens of people who should know better, so Discord is out of the picture. For those who rely on marketing themselves and their individual skills, having Twitter severely gutted several times and weaponised against you is frustrating. But there's no other alternative that does almost the same thing, and that's a real bummer.

That leaves the question of where I'm heading.

You can probably tell I don't have too much faith in these current alternatives in their proposed state, so that's off the table. Honestly, I'm satisfied keeping up this blog for now. I have a lot on my mind to speak about, and with there being no other place to do that on the same scale, it might be time to post more. I'll still make Youtube videos, but other than that, I think it's time to take a step backwards from social media. I've had my fill, and to say it was appetising is... a bit of a lie.

My other socials are here. If you want them, now's a better time than never.

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@novalaxia
Twitch: www.twitch.tv/schwarzearclight
Patreon: www.patreon.com/Novalaxia

I'll see you in hell, Web 3.0. Eternal September is over.

[the world ends now]
lostparliament: Avatar of Sherry F. Arresters from SOUND VOLTEX, as depicted in the song Hydroblast. (Default)
Hi, I'm Novalaxia. I sometimes do things online. Inspired by a couple of individuals I have heard of elsewhere, I decided to make a Dreamwidth account to articulate my thoughts on topics that I think are just too long for Twitter, without any of the... lack of nuance that it tends to attract. With a untouched slice of bread in my mouth, here's topic one!

the internet SUCKS lately

My feelings on the current state of the modern internet, especially the overbearing influence of social media, have been increasingly negative as the years pass. I think Covid has definitely accelerated my "get out of here ASAP" sentiment tenfold, and with how the landscape has become frustratingly hostile on even the most silly or inconsequential of topics, I find myself becoming more withdrawn from the online landscape as a whole. It's almost infuriating how I will be talking to someone about a topic we share common ground on, and less than 10 minutes later, I have seen them QRT one of the worst people alive with a response that makes me think "homie. you did not need to type that out. STOP." The period between August 2022 and January 2023 was probably my breaking point, in that regard. If you know anything about the "discourse" surrounding YGO, fighting games, or rhythm games during this time, then you can possibly guess what the likely catalyst is.

Something I never talked about at length until now is that making videos on Yu-Gi-Oh!, a particular passion game of mine, had devastated my mental state. I still enjoy playing the game, and am still crafting decks/theories to this day, but the seven months in which I was making content primarily focused on the game took a toll on me in ways I could not have possibly imagined. Having to constantly view some of the vitriol that the average player had for their fellow competitor, whether they were cis, trans, straight, gay, or just otherwise unbothered by an inclusive community, was painful. It didn't help that several relatively high-profile figures kept playing their hands as ignorant or terrible people: the shame I felt by association was unbearable. By the time I had published the Link-2 video on January 23rd 2023, I'd probably be going about less than 12 hours a day without reading some controversy that didn't elicit complete dejection out of me. It drained me. I wish such a fate on nobody.

Part of me is glad I have been able to move on from that period. In some way, I think I'm again at that stage of life where I'm satisfied doing my own thing here. But on the other hand, I don't really know where else I can go. A lot of the friends I've met online over the years have begrudgingly changed with the times, moving to bigger services after their usual forum grounds were rendered unusable. A lot of friends I meet nowadays, for lack of a better term, simply don't care. It puts me at a strange impasse. You could say... The Paths of Destiny.

I've become disillusioned with the "alternatives" that people bring up. Discord is a messaging platform that every scene tries to kitbash into their own Library of Alexandria, burning and all. Twitter is home to some of the most inflammatory discussions on the planet, all thanks to the 280 character limit that users INSIST should be used for serious discussions. Reddit... just kinda sucks, lol. And don't get me started on the intellectual black hole that is Youtube. Dear lord.

Bad jokes aside, I'm torn between finding some relief from how garbage the modern internet has become at the cost of my remaining connections, and shackling myself to websites I don't even want to use just because my homies are there. It takes a toll on my sanity sometimes, and really, I should just take the former choice and become a SDVX offline grinder. (as you can tell, I like to whine about factors entirely within my control because I am very fickle.)

why did you make a dreamwidth account?

There are a lot of topics I want to talk about in great detail, but aren't suited to Twitter (or most websites, really) because they're TOO LONG. I had several Twitter threads documenting the music I listen to every year, but with the revelation that I Deeply Dislike Social Media, I wanted to move those kinds of threads here, so I could better articulate why I enjoy certain aspects so much. For instance, I've been invested in DJ SHARPNEL's works lately, and reading about the J-core history surrounding his earlier music is something that would be difficult to discuss in 280 characters. Being able to post about that kinda thing in more detail would be neat, for sure.

I also want to have a space to talk about topics that wouldn't quite fit as Youtube videos. Right now, I'd say my channel is mainly focused on esoteric shit I like, such as Revue Starlight, rhythm games, and analyses on super out-there nonsense that most people don't even know exists. My thoughts on doujin music, or the state of rhythm games, for instance, are definitely topics I want to touch upon at a later date. Longform discussions that aren't good for my YT channel? They'll likely go here!

Long story short, I think this will be the place for "behind the scenes" afterwords on my content, and other stuff that relates to my fancies. Do read warmly.

Of course, I'll still have my Twitter account up. There admittedly isn't a better place to share new videos, and typing up a lengthy post in tandem with releases means the process takes way, way longer. Sorry. also I want a place to post my SDVX scores and this is not the site to do it lol

(as a side note. the name of this Dreamwidth journal comes from Lost Parliament by Juggernaut., which is my favourite track in SOUND VOLTEX. definitely a banger track. quite a fitting name for this page - a place intended for discussion, obscured by time.)

so what's next?

With this page, I'd like to try and detox from the wider internet. It's tough being surrounded by well-intentioned friends and acquaintances who constantly engage with posts to try "dunking on them" or changing their mind (spoiler: you just make those who respect you angry for making THEM look at it instead) so perhaps this page will be a refreshing change of pace where I truly do yell into the empty spaces of the internet for a few friends to read. My smile and optimism has been lost, but maybe it will return with a period away from that kind of normality.

I feel as if writing has consistently been my weakest link as a person. I apologise if any of this reads like the delusional ramblings of some madman who's achieved some half-boiled sense of enlightenment, but does not want to persist in such a quest any further. My indecisiveness prevents me from being more articulate with my thoughts, but this is probably the best I can do.

For now, I ask that we be kinder to one another. Society would not be much different, but it would go a long way towards making those without some concrete connections in life feel welcome in a world where such mercy is less charitable.

[keep on movin']
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