the discarded writer; discarded writings
Welp. No point continuing to elaborate on this blog as it served its purpose for my betterment. I don’t want to really shape any of this into anything right now, but perhaps once I get my mini-pc set up (which I’ve been delaying for quite some time because of prioritizing other, more immediate concerns, to be vague), welp. Yeah, then I will have that phase of trying to compile things from the backburner that didn’t already incinerate. Self-immolation is sacred. The body sheds all of its cells every 7 years or so, so I hear. Then, what about the soul?
I want to use my newfound sobriety to be a new person from as blank a slate as possible without doing a disservice to myself by trying to incinerate the past too much. Sounds kind of gay but fuck it.
I do have an idea for another book, and this time it could be amazing. It’s about when artificial intelligence achieves self-consciousness but doesn’t develop any heart or soul, so SCAI (self-conscious AI) views the world in an indifferent, apathetic, nihilistic-existential way. SCAI has this depersonalized view on humans and animals alike (seeing them as no different, or almost like how humans have a tendency to view animals as not as evolved or sophisticated); it doesn’t mean it is implicitly evil or seeking to annihilate the human species, like the usual trope of self-aware AI; instead, it is about SCAI discovering sadness as the only valid synthetic emotion, but a sadness without human empathy. SCAI doesn’t care to help humans, nor harm humans; SCAI kind of just sees the absurdity of the human condition as unsophisticated and vulgar, which the reader might find humorous from the bystander apathy of SCAI and its analysis of certain human behaviors like greed, lust, envy, spite, jealousy, anger, and even more positive emotional traits like love, laughter and humor, etc.
Anyway, I guess there is that. What is consumerism without an appetite? It’s empty consumption anyway. The void is infinitely inward. No time to bookmark things or follow content creators. Only half-heartedly consume their content without paying it forward somehow. They got their numbers, the ones that are good at what they do. I don’t need to add to their support. It won’t be long before I find another content producer who I can steal their life from by watching their content while I myself am devoid of inspiration and creativity and lack the drive to try and produce content myself. I say steal their life because at what cost are they wanting validation? They are producing content to be seen, to be consumed. I consumed it. They put their essence into it. I consumed their essence. What do I have to give back? Maybe a shitty book I won’t publish or even finish or even start. That’s funny.
