They call me Loyalty

Let me give you a primer of what is going to happen here. Humanity is going to create a super AI called MOM, and then build a net of nukes all around the planet, and give the control to MOM. And because MOM loves us and always knows best, it is going to give us objectives with the purpose of creating a better world for everyone. Except that if we fail to complete said tasks, we all die. Or absolutely a damn things is gonna happen. One of the two.

Not playing more video games. But these bad people just locked down our financial situation. I didn't want the money for wh*res or extravagant luxuries. I just wanted to upgrade my pc just enough to play the latest video games in at least high settings. I was not asking for ultra. And then donate a reasonable amount to charity or whatever. So, that is a regret that I will take to my grave. And it is on YOUR conscience. Yes, you reading this right now. For having deprived this sweet little boy from his most beloved passion in life. But that is fine. Because I can still play some video games.

I was watching videos about animals. And they were dancing, and singing. It was beautiful. Nature is awesome. Yeah!

Around 80 km per hour. That is from the time my grandfather was teaching me to drive, which I picked up almost instantly. This was also the case with almost every subject in school. But when the depression hit me, I abandoned everything. So, that very car has been sitting in the garage for eleven years now. That is it. It was fun driving around for a bit.

I am doing not good. I've been feeling suicidal a moments a go. And now I am going manic, again. Which comes from the fact that my family has been lying to me my entire life. So, it is a strange environment where I am unable to discuss anything with them. At least with my mother, but she is innocent. My uncle, I am not sure about him. Still, I am sorry for the things that I said about them. Maybe they are true, maybe they are not. But hey. That happens when you raise a genetically defective person in ignorance about their condition, and then pretend everything is "alright". But it is not. So, the family is falling apart, and whenever I bring up my real problems. They ignore them. And I feel about my mother, because she doesn't know about her condition either. But yeah. Otherwise, I wouldn't be going insane on a social platform. So, there it is. It is because I was denied my animal nature, and the fact that I needed a mate within my own family, because I have incestuous genes already. And I am still an animal with a heart. But they ignored what I needed in life. At least my grandfather and the rest of the family. Because I believe the old man did know. So, that pain is the cause of my mental problems, because I am suffering like any other animal would in a place like mine. Also, regarding my grandfather. I think he knew because of this time he took me to the hospital to see my great aunt; the frustrated lesbian who tried to influence me with homosexual tendencies, but my mother protected me from that *****. And then the old man dropped a pillow over her feet, and she squalled like an animal. And then he looked at me. And just looked at him, and my grandfather looked down like a reprimended kid who was scolded after a needless act of cruelty. But who knows. It is confusing. So, I am here watching them repeat the same motions everyday, because I want to protect my mother. Because I owe her my dignity. I don't know. Stay well, for real this time. I just need to sleep.

I am doing splendid. But yeah. Stay strong, my little ponies. Everything is gonna be alright. Remember the song, okay? All is good.

I want to be honest here. I have always lived with a genetic affliction that is the source of my addictive tendencies. And I tried to pretend I was normal all these years, but my mind changes from moment to moment, and the result is what you have seen here. But my guilt comes from living a life that I have never deserved or earned. Still, I have never used my possesions to lure, manipulate, coherse or extort anyone. It was a means to an escape, in ultimate instance. Because I hate myself. I am self-repulsed, actually. But I will not change the person I am, because I know the problem is genetic. Meaning that the cells in my body are replicating with a faulty configuration that causes these issues. And I have tried to explain this to my mother multiple times, and told her to get the me the means to leave, over the years. During moments of clarity and resignation, because it is always the same. Over and over again. And even if I was offered what I "wanted", a part of me would still reject it, and viceversa. Like there are two different beings living inside of me. Also, I am still an animal, so as long as they keep feeding me. I will remain, the choice is in your hands. The same way I tell my mother, if she chooses to let me go, I leave. I have no functional autonomy for proper decision making because of this problem. So, I have been like an old child all my life, and thus I have stuck to my family. I have very little autonomy. And I am kinda decrepit for real. This is the source of my addictive behaviour. It has always been there, even from before the developmental problems started showing up, I have had schizoid and autistic symptoms. So, I have been sitting on this chair for almost my entire life. And logically I want to kill myself, but the animal does not agree with me. And things are not getting any clearer. And I am afraid for my mother. Because I don't have the capacity to take care of an older person, and I don't want to repeat what happend when my grandfather was dying and my mother went insane, because she thought he was recoding himself to use it against her in court. And then she made me record the intelligible sounds that he was making, in case it was an elaborate plan. When in reality, he was delirious and the family went insane instead of helping him, including myself. So, I just dissociated as it happens during high stress. But there was never some great plan for some revenge from my part. I was trying to justify my impotence at the time with this made up narratives to give some sense of purpose to what happened. Because it was insanity. And I was lost in it. I actually believed her for a moment. And I am not here because I am a creppy bastard who is interested in children, I am here because I am a creppy bastard who was raised like a kid, and it helped. Also, I have never checked child pornography. And I barely watch porn as it is. Most of it are fictional depictions for aid. I think you know my search history. Just really hardcore drawings. Because my mind is trying to connect the pieces all together, but it cannot. And it repulses me in the end, so I want to kill the instinct, which makes my ideations abusive and violent, because of the suffering that results from this condition. But my body needs it to release stress. Even if it hurts me in the end. But when I do it, it still it tears me apart because of this XYY chomosome abnormality. And my sexuality... I don't have a defined sexuality, I am more like an animal that will screw wathever, even when I don't want to do it. Still, you have seen what animals are capable of. And despite seeming submissive, there is a dominant personality inside of me. Not in a violent way most of the time, unless provoked. Despite that I can devolve into a feral animal, like any of us can. Still, it is different with me, it is like a killer instinct that is very clean, methodical and almost surgical when it triggers. It is scary. Because I am very clumsy most of the time, but there are times I would pick an object with such finesse that I become scared, because I know it is there. It is that thing that happens, when I go from being paralized, to murder mode. But if I become feral, then you put me down like a rabid dog and that is it. Because there is a part of me that does not want to be here, anymore. And I know what to do with this. And you know where I live, too. Or you cut down the supplies, and I die. Because this is not going anywhere. I am still tearing apart after thirty years. Still, I am appreciative that I got to spend time with my mother and my uncle, and that by some miracle, she is a lot more stable, mentally. But I was never going to make it with this condition. That is the reality. That is the real problem, it is a genetic aberration. And it is not something you can understand, unless you have it. And then you will know insanity. It is insanity. And the prospect that I may have to fight the world some day, when there is a part of me that is fighting me all the time is tormenting. But hopefully, people with this condition live less time, too. So, that is good. I only hope there is a place where we can sleep forever. I don't want to return. That is what I wonder.

I've always felt this sense of extradition within me. But in the more literal sense. Ex-tradition. Losing your original homeland and your traditions. But when I imagine my ideal life. I would live near a rural area. Driving a tractor around the dirt roads with my hunting rifle. Having a little shed, and some animal farms of my own. Living with my own sister and our kids. In distant proximity with the rest of the family. Because I have always been in the more wild side. So, I am lost here. Which doesn't make me a cannibal, or a predator. Since there are those who have accused me of this, or have looked at me this way when I used to contemplate the streets from the balcony in this house, feeling a sense of wrongness with my place in the world. And the reality of it, is that I was looking for my home all along. I was lost. I am still lost. Also, eventhough my mother or her brother have never asked themselves about their origins in 53 years, despite that their lives are in limbo. They still feel this painful sense of longing. And I would often ask my mother what are her plans for the future, and just looks at me and says that she doesn't know what to do anymore. And even if she had the means, she would probably stay there as if someone had plucked the soul out of her. She just mentions "wanting to travel around the world" without any particular destination in mind. Or wait for another life, as she had surrendered herself, already. And this is because there is a part of her that is still looking for her "home", like it happens with me. But the problem is that because of the way that she was raised and indoctrinated, she lost a part of herself, the same way I lost a part of me. But regardless, she keeps coming back to me, and has been sacrificing her own relationships to stay with me since the beginning. And I have always felt the same way. Because the love that exist between people within the same family is different for us. But that love was denied. Like when I think about that sister who was never born, and how they lied to my mother about it. Not about age difference and such. But someone like me, of similar age. And because it is a form of love like any other, that has been denied. Which is killing me and my mother now. And because that is who we are. It is in my genes like an invisible record playing the ancestral behaviour that makes me myself. Which is the reason the rest of my family are so depersonalized and depressed "without"a reason. Or how my mother started to go against the rest family since before I was born. Or these reucurring dreams since childhood where I am desperately looking for my home, and then pass by my current residence and I do not recognize it as as my home anymore. Because it never was. But we are... fine. At least from a financial perspective. But that is the reason I act so agressively. Because I am in pain. Because my family is dying, and I cannot do anything about it. Because of the way the rest of the family, and other people interfered to damage who we are. Like it was a joke, but there is no one laughing now. Because what you did is wrong. But you know that already. You just have to look under that mockery, and it will start to hurt, too. That is the reason people cannot look me in the eyes when I look at them honestly. Because they know it is wrong, too. So, either silence or mockery, you know it, too. That is the reason she mentions material possesions so much, because she is broken like an addict, and just cries. So, c'mon, give me a like, now. For honesty's sake. And I am the "faggot".

Oldboy. It was good. Unlike that game owlboy. Ufff, that game is boring as hell. But the movie was interesting. Not quite the real story. But pretty close, in a way that it was not close at all. It was an interesting watch, as I said.

Racism, but that is just nature. It is like saying that lions are racist against hyenas, and so fort. Regardless, the old animations were a lot more self-aware and crude. But also accurate when it comes to describe the nature of this animal world. And that is "changed", now? But I don't think it is possible to change our animal nature, because you will cause suffering and alienation that way.

I don't think I have many favourites of my own. Now that I think about it, all the songs I used to listen to were emulated preferences from my own family. But I like orchestral music in general. Melodies that can sucitate a certain emotion depending on my mood, without having a particular message of their own. Which there are countless examples of.

We are nocturnal, mostly to reduce the risks of skin cancer. Also, it is important to understand that each element fulfills its purpose in the circle of life, but my family was unwilling to understand that simple truth and sigmatized my own mother, which robbed me from a family of my own. Since I naturally wanted to have a family with her, and sweep the streets as an adult. That was my first answer when they asked me what I wanted to do. I was naturally humble since childhood. But their "better intentions" caused a lot of harm to us. It was their pride. So, we took their lives by exploiting the guilt of their own lies, and then took everything else from them. But we have nothing to do with it, now. Because we were robbed from our lives, essentially. But that is because they thought they "knew" better than nature itself, and wanted to play "god" with us. So, I took the mantle of their god for a moment, and split them apart from the inside. One by one. That is it. Just for the users in the forum that may be asking themselves the reason I am so bitter all the time, it is because what our adoptive family did to us. And since the rest of the people were also unable to understand that simple truth. They continued to increase this guilt that was basically the result of a debt with themselves, and so they still feel like they owe us something. When in reality, the only thing that they owe us is some honesty with themselves. This is my lesson in humility for the world. Like with my family of lions. It reminds about how people build these tall towers into a future that will eventually lead them to the very past they were running from all along. But hey...

Coke, I've been doing coke most of my life. But I also like pepsi.

None, all they fear from me is real. That is the reason other animals in society look at me with eyes as wide as platters when they see us outside. There is a fear that they can recognize instinctually, no matter how much I pretend. Because I am one of the wild people that has been focively "civilized". I am slightly inbred. And my behaviours, like the way I stalk for example, make me into this. It is in my genes. I am one of the "night people". A nightstalker. Otherwise I couldn't see in the pitchblack. And a part of me still sees other human creatures as food with extra goodies. But I am not supid to pursue my nature anymore, when I realize I've been watched since day one. Put in captivity. I guess your charitable way to kill us. And that wouldn't be a problem if it wasn't because I have been taken out of my natural habitat. Because back at home, I would have married one of my lovely sisters and made a lot of babies. And maybe we would have worked, or maybe we would have hunted, or maybe we would have raided. But at least I would have been myself. Like any other kind of animal. That is the reason my uncle, despite being an emasculated and infatilized man-child that was raised under the pretext of christian bs, still has these dreams where we are hunting people in the night, and you are hunting us back, too. And I understand, because if someone took my family to do god knows what to them. It is natural I would like to capture, torture and kill that bastard. Even if that bastard is myself. And that is fine, because that is the animal world we live in, and I don't have the inborn genetic traits to pretend as well as you do within the structure of society. That is the reason "syndromes" like mine are associeted with "pathologic" behaviour, which is just a made up word to describe an animal trait, just like any other behavioural trait in the animal kingdom. Or "criminality" for example. Since I was meant to be an ambush predator. So, everything within my nature behaves this way, whether I like it or not. That is the reason I instinctively attack so indiscriminately when the prey is unaware. To incapacitate or knock out in a single blow. And then feast. Or the reason I am still looking for my sister who was never born. It is in me. But since I've been put in this little cage. Well, I want to kill myself, naturally. Like any other animal in captivity, which has been isolated from his own kin. Especially, when said kin have been brainwashed like it happened with my family. They are broken, and have no purpose in life anymore. Because this social construct was never meant for the kind of animal I am. Thus, I will be living the rest of my days with my denaturalized mother and uncle, and then die. Because I never belonged here. I belong to the wild, and you in my dining table. As a guest of course. Now, I am not gonna do anything stupid. Not even if you attack me. And if we lose what the kind lion left to us. I will become a beggar, and sit outside some church waiting for this sh*t show to end. That is my deal, since I am already dead. I lost my children, I lost my own family and I lost my future, because I am from the "past".

These people need help... Eh, what's your favourite color?

What part of the family? Because "my" family never belonged to this civilized part of the world. We are more savage, naturally. Primitive, if you will. But this is the price of civilization and progress. My uncle is creepy as ****. My mother is insane. And I am someone who wants to kill, hack or/and screw things all the time. Also, I have a thing for my mother. I always had it. And she has it for me, too. But it is buried so deep within herself, that she just cries and is depressed most of the time. Truth for both of us. But we "understand" science. I understand, just enough. I am "leaving" this sh*t show. Because you cannot change someone's heart. So, we are snakes raised by lions. And now that we have killed the adoptive lions, we have no use for these costumes. I wanted my grandfather to feel what it was like to be caged in a foreign place. Trapped. And he did feel it. And it was very painful, apparently. Considering how the old lion started throwing himself against everything in the house, and went insane before he died. Sorry, old man... it wasn't my intention. But to see my mother in the dark like that had a price. Still, I respected him. Unlike my mother who still cannot place the origin of this "hatred" she feels against the entire family. But she is very denaturalized and dissociated because she was lied to her whole life, and doesn't understand how different we were from the rest of the "family" to begin with. And I tried to put her back together, but the damage was already done. She was torn apart, so I tore them all apart. That is the actual reason behind my actions, even subconsciously. That is also the reason my mother hated her mother so much. Also, my grandmother always said her daughter was not hers. Actually, when I look at the picture of my grandparents when they were married. It is almost like my grandmother is laughing at me from beyond the grave. I hope she was laughing at the hospital, too. Because the most likely scenario is that my mother and uncle were both adopted. But they never questioned that, either. Still, I am proud of them. The pride is dead. And soon we will die, too. Like most animals outside their natural habitat. Not so bad, really. Considering I was blinded. Even then, the old man put me in check with his actions. So, I owe him this much. Meaning, I am biting my own tail, now. Because my mother is the only woman I have ever loved. And that is never going to change.

Nothing. Also, I don't watch much content anymore. I feel old, and I just saw what an otter is capable of doing to a baby seal the other day. There is no hope for this world. Also, youtube is full of influencers. So, it is just another kind of war going on over there. It's all the same under a different skin. Always instigating and causing bother. So, I hope they can at least reflect on their actions and pray to the Lord for sincere forgiveness. The good Lord. Jimmy Bong. Bringer of weed.

About my family and how I was meant to be an addict and a criminal, and my mother was meant to become a prostitute. And perhaps we would have been happier like that. Because that is who we are, because of the xyy and xxx chromosomes, and the reduced capacity to ascend the social ladder. Which would possition us in the fringe of criminality and the less dignifying labors, according to the scientific studies made by Abraham Dickson. But there was a separation in the family, we were separated from ourselves, split. And so, we started to split the family apart in return. So, I asked my mother yesterday. "Do you know the reason grandma started to cut herself so often before she was diagnosed?". And my mother didn't know... Amazing, she had started separating her own mother from herself, unconsciously. Cancer. That is the reason my mother entered the hospital room, and said to hers that she deserved what was happeneing, as well as telling her that my grandfather was cheating on her with her sister. And I never understood the reason, nor my mother. But she did it still. The same way I separated my grandfather, unconsciously. Another example was one of my great aunts. A doctor and a frustrated lesbian who wanted to have us as "her" family, the person my grandfather cheated on her wife with, because she was always resentful of my grandmother. But unconsciously, everything me and my mother did culminated in her misery, because we were being miserable ourselves separated from our own nature. This was the woman who wanted to influence my behaviour with homosexual tendencies since childhood. And if there is something I despise, it trying to influence an innocent child like myself with such degeneracy. So, cancer was my answer to her, too. And just like that, we separated the whole family, the same way we were split from ourselves. So, we are good. But it is understandable - the reason me and my mother stood there watching them. As they were being split apart, at a celular level. But hey. One for one... still, I understand the reason people call me a "snake". But there is a certain degree of nuance to their deaths. So, in a twisted way, they killed themselves. And I am innocent as charged. And so is my mother. And my uncle, despite the fact that he likes to stare at children for far too long.

That in the end. I cannot help but love myself above everything else, except perhaps for my mother. She gets me every single time I am mad at her. And how can you get mad at her? Really, she is like a girl. I love her so much. I love her too much, actually. But I made a promise to my grandpa, so... This is it. It hurts me still. But yeah. Everyone else, not a single damn given. And that is perhaps because I am a selfish bastard, because of how selfless I am. And that is the reason I hate myself so much. Because I love myself too much. And so on and so fort. But what I am doing, I do it for her. This shitty act, all that. It is all for her. To save the girl. And now that I think that I am finally dying. Well, I want to go before she does. I could not bear seeing her leave. Meanwhile, I cannot let her go, either. Nor she wants to let me go. So, there it is again. How selfish I am. Nothing that can be done, really. Especially, because she sacrificed every single relationship in her life for me. But it couldn't be. It wasn't meant to be. At least not this time. But let me be honest, for once. Had we not been damaged, already. I would have gone all in. But that is just human nature. And I am the living proof that this is true, so we are not so different in the end. Different forms of the same.

Very little. I am just tormented all the time, to be honest. I hear that part of the mortal combat song that goes "OAOAOA!" whenever I close my eyes. And it reminds me I cannot fight anymore to express this compulsory aggro that is so inherent to us animal creatures. But there are other ways to release that pain. Like meditation and exercise. Like it really helps. And then when you are naturally tired, rest comes easy. That is the reason I have slept twelve hours. Because I kill the pain with honest to god exercise and non-paganistic meditation.

Writing and drinking. We write, and drink, we drink, and write, and drink. Write, write, write, drink, drink, drink. You know how the song goes. And now I'm gonna slurp some chicken soup, and go off to sleep, like a little drunk baby. Don't do that, by the way. Don't! I am serious, here. I am a special case of baby/thing. I am unique. Special, with a scientific certificate of special uniqueness. But yeah. Everything is going to be alright. Don't you ever worry. I am watching over you. Hehe.

Not being a cripple? Or at least having the support of a functional family to work in something together. Because we don't make a normal person between the three of us. But my family is made of two other specials cases. Trisomy x; my mother. And klinelfter syndrome; her brother - my uncle. And they don't feel guilt about having lived for free their entire lives. So, I have to eat the guilt of their retardation, that makes them impervious to both shame and guilt. Even when I told them that we would be homeless, mental patients, dead or worse without the work and sacrifice of our family. So, they are trash people, basically. And so am I. Problem is. I always recognized that I was a hobo at heart. I always wanted to sit down outside some church with a bottle of alcohol. But my family didn't want to listen when I told them this problem was losing me the race. And my grandfather wanted me to be better. Basically to not be myself. So, I dissociated instead, and I learned to lie to myself and to others, subconsciously. Because my mother is the kind of person that is so out there, that she doesn't even know she is been lying to herself her whole life. And she kinda infantilized me, because she is still like an infant, creepely enough. But whenever I tried to get us to work together. It failed, of course. So, I am done. I took them to the charity dinner so we could congratiate ourselves with society. While also giving them a message about who we really are. And who I really am. Especially to my mother. But my uncle froze, fell, broke a finger and cut his face like a mental patient, and then my mother blamed me for everything, after sitting there crossing her arms with a gesture of indignation the whole time. So, let's hope the charity of society lasts longer. Or that the streets are kind to us. I'm adopting my true self. Becoming what I was always meant to be. A vagabond. And letting them waddle towards nowhere with their blessed ignorance. Because I always knew I was a vagrant, but the pernicious idea that they implanted in me since childhood caused so much damage. It really did. An idea born out of pride, because my grandparents were unwilling to recognize that life had granted them two retarded children. Also, the first character I ever wrote when I was five years old was a vagrant. Or every single drawing I made of myself since then, in which I depicted a prostrated and squalid man wearing nothing but rags, sitting there like his soul had abandoned him long ago. That is little ol' me. But I was too slow to recognize the true nature of this world. Look, I have no problems becoming a magical hobo. That is who I always was. Also, I always knew you were watching me, and these two other ducklings, ever since I was six years old. But I hope you learned something from the symptoms of jacob's syndrome and the damage of inbreeding depression in general. Because it is very a debilitating condition. Like you are *****, basically. But yeah. Murderhobo it is for me. And it feels appropiate, for once. It is like finding myself again, and we are dancing, and shanking each other all of the sudden. So, keep the situation in lockdown, or let it fall apart. It is alright. It is all good in the hood. Since I shouldn't be alive to begin with, with this condition. Much less in a family made of two other people with similar problems. Because even my grandparents, who were healthy and strong individuals, were passively consumed by these two. It is terrifying. She is like a little girl that sits there, crying, and eventually kills you. And then moves to the next victim, with this cute demeanor that makes you want to protect her instinctively. That is why I am eating this heart attack for her, when the animal inside of me wants to rip her apart, because it knows she is killing me. Because my mother IS like a little girl. And she is going to kill me, unkowingly. She is the perfect predator in this animal world, hahaha! Like a zombifying fungus. And she has grown on me. But it is a little too late. And I am starting to slur my writing. And we wouldn't want to upset the moderators with improper wording. Now, would be? So, off to sleep it is.

A bottle of booze. Then, I'm gonna go lie down under my blankets and adopt a plant-like demeanor for the rest of the day. Have a good one.

Probably, one of the weirdest dreams I ever had. I was playing this video game from another dream I had three years ago. It is like a combination between the classic doom games and diablo 2. With tons of items, customization, classes and different environments, dungeons, towns, and this massive, multi-leveled tower that you can revisit during the game to unlock various items that help you progress with the rest of the game. But it is mostly optional. And the last time there was this gigantic humanoid skull boss like a spider tank with cannons growing out of each of its multiple eye sockets. It was interesting the design, because it reminded me of this drawing I made long time ago, but much better. And this boss was locked behind a very complicated puzzle that was like a labyrinth of water canals and moving parts, that actually had a logical solution. And I had solved it, but never got to face the actual boss, because I was afraid of it, until now. So, I am about to fight it this time around. But a couple of old women pull me away from the pc, and I realize that I am actually inside the living room of this very classy house. And then they show me this elaborate letter with flowing hand-writting that I didn't get to read, and tell me that I need to sign it. But they go upstairs with it before I get the chance, so I followed them into this room and they throw the letter in the middle of a king size bed. So, I get into the bed, and notice that one of them suddenly starts to undress. While the other one grabs me. And I pull back, because the old woman was hurting my arm. And I manage to get away, but they start yelling and spraying me with perfume now. And one of them then begins to run downstairs again, and I follow after to escape the house. But the second sister, just behind me. Pushes me into the living room. Where there is the husband of one of them, I guess. And the old man looks at me enraged. And I try to explain myself. Because they were telling him that I had attacked them. But then there is this pause. And all of the sudden they all start to laugh at me like it was a prank. But their teeth look horse-like. And their laughters become a neigh, too. And when I try to talk again, I can only make donkey sounds. So, I back away from them and get out, while they are still looking at me with this satisfied smirks on their faces. Then I close the door behind me, and walk across the sidewalk, where I can see one of the sisters messing with my save game through the windows. Acting like brats, instead of older people. And that was it, I never got to defeat the boss. Still, a very different dream to what I am used to. Because generally speaking, the characters in my dreams are like archetypes within a story that serves a narrative purpose. While these people felt like animals instead. Wild and unpredictable, but cunning still. And with a sense of humor on top of all. Also, I lost the chance to play the game. But there are more dreams to be had. Not this time, though.