“You can never cross the ocean until you have the courage to lose sight of the shore.” — Christopher Columbus
Today has been a day. A challenging day. A day that’s been years coming. A day that was one of the most emotionally draining in my adult life. And I’m not allowed to talk about it.
For now. We’ll see how the contract holds up over time.
Sometimes you gotta take a risk, leap off a cliff, and hope the water is deep enough to safely take your landing. I guess that’s where you need to be careful.
Figuring out how deep the water is. Taking a leap. Then hoping you don’t belly flop.
I frequently belly flop. It’s not just me. I’m pretty sure a lot of people metaphorically belly flop. Hopefully not physically. Metaphorical belly flops can be more painful from physical ones, or at least that’s what it seems so far. I’m unsure about virtual belly flops though. Definitely not sure.
I think people are interesting. Really interesting. Especially when we’re on autopilot and become somewhat predictable. Going to the same work. The same places. The same institutions. The same people. The same paths. Eating the same foods. Listening to the same musics.
Ad infinitum.
I’m unsure if that’s leaning toward cynicism or fatalism. Many it’s realism. Maybe it’s none of that.
It breaks my heart when someone is being subjected to a pattern that’s been sooooooooooooooo observed it’s its own syndrome. And it definitely sucks being a part of it too.
There’s always more than one reality. Two people are standing on a beach. One is terrified. One is smiling.
What’s the difference?
Maybe one had an enjoyable experience. Maybe one had a shark scare them. Maybe one enjoys the sand. Or maybe one got stung by a jelly fish.
Who the fuck knows?
No one other than the experiencer. And even then, the experiencer will likely do a questionable job at describing the rich, finely woven, tapestry of individual experiences, and accompanying thoughts of theirs, that comprises their version of reality.
So, who the fuck knows.
Not you. Unless this reality is yours.
Everybody is different. Everybody has their own experience. Their own perspective. Their own reality. Everybody.
It’s just kinda how we work. I’m pretty sure that’s one of our built in features. Not a hive-mind.
Not yet… I’m putting that on my 2050 bingo card.
The more I learn about how we work, the more I learn how easily exploitable we are to the realities of others. It’s often easier to allow yourself to be wrapped up into someone else’s reality rather than introspecting upon your own.
Introspection.
The interesting thing about people, too, is how much we just project all over the place. And projecting might just be you. Trying to reassemble reality the way you’ve come to expect it.
The way you’ve come to predict, it’ll be. The way you’ve come to generalize.
Generalization.
Another unfortunate potential exploit. A potential flaw… and definitely beneficial in some ways. Assuming the generalizations are positive and beneficial.
Generalizations are one of the tools that people of influence can use to demonize someone else. To dehumanize them. Vermin. Monstrous. Disgusting.
Generalizations.
I fucking hate some generalizations. Especially if it’s about me.
It’s kinda annoying when people try to project their generalization of you, on you. You are so X. You always do X. You never do X. Sigh. Y?
And generalizations are a fantastic tool which we can use to hide the parts of our own realities that we’re disinterested in acknowledging. Or sharing.
Introspection and generalizations. They both take time to form. They both take time to unpack and undo.
And that’s where the heart of the fucking ordeal I find myself in stems from.
That, and a toxic filter that someone’s decided to either consciously act to, or unconsciously act to, that is just a fucking bitch to deal with. And, “deal with,” are definitely the accurate fucking words here. If one’s wearing a toxic filter then they’ll probably fight when they don’t need to.
Attack, attack, attack. Regardless of the unconsidered long-term consequences. Project, project, project. The world must be the way you believe it to be, because if it’s not…then… who are you? And who’s world are you in? Your own? A marketers? A group? A partner? A lover?
Attack when someone has already acquiesced. Just because they feel like they need to get the last punch in. To show them. To prove how superior are. To make you see how wrong you are. To cause their target pain. Because they, obviously, harmed them.
They should be indignant. They’re right to be indignant. That individual deserves what they get.
Projecting and generalizing all over the place because of the lack of introspection that’s occurring on their part.
Throughout this whole ordeal I’ve been making an effort to be kind. Even when I kicked it off, I did it as kindly as I could while feeling like I had the safety I needed to work through things. Sometimes sentiment shifts toward reprehension and repugnance. A fucking ordeal.
It is literally, and emotionally, painful to work through. Ahh well. That’s life.
Someone that doesn’t give af about me will probably just immediately roll their eyes and say to themselves (or whoever is around them), “That’s life. Allow me to cry you some crocodile tears.”
And sure. They’re right. That’s life. And I will drink their crocodile tears all up, because that kind of response tells me a very important thing about them.
That they’re probably the kind of person that I’d keep at the edge, or completely outside of, my inner rhombus. I’d be hesitant to share them any sort of my reality (unless it’s what I choose to share publicly). Especially if they’re someone new in my life.
And even if they’re not new, sometimes you need to assert some boundaries. It’s unfortunate that sometimes when the boundaries are asserted then other details of the ordeal may be damaged by those that have decided that the boundaries need not be considered.
That snap response tells me something very important.
How empathic they are.
At least at first.
In the mean time… a fucking ordeal. Fuck.
It does feel preeeeeeeeeeeeeeeetty good writing so ambiguously that literally no one should know what I’m talking about except in the most abstract of senses.
Unless you’re that one person. You know who you are. 🧐 Oh, or the other that knows too. You know too. 🥰 Or you’re a stalker. In which case, if you’re kind, then come by and say, “Hi.” On the street. In public. With all your cloths on, please. At least at first. Consent is important.
I am going to paste this into an LLM and learn how it responds to this.
Sometimes, I thoroughly relish Passive Aggression.
It’s a tool.
Unfortunately, it’s a tool that frequently does psychic/emotional damage to some thing, person, or group. And it does damage to whoever is wielding it too.
It is reflecting who they are back on themselves. How they empathized. How they respect your reality. How they connected.
Or it can be really funny depending on timing, context, and delivery. Or it can go reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeally bad.
Back when I worked at the porn company, I’d hang out with an interesting assortment of characters. Folks that were/are in the “disorder” end of the narcissism spectrum.
It’s a spectrum. And a tool. “Yeah… a porn company… those were the healthiest years of my life!” That is sarcasm, which is passive aggression. And I’m pretty sure you don’t know what I mean. If you don’t, it means the healthiest years. Ever.
I was lounging around a clear blue pool at a luxurious resort in Scottsdale, Arizona. “Big KN” – one of the folks who gaslit me for years – was in his multi-room suite, and I was hanging out with his girlfriend who is around 15 years his junior, and is a star at one of the local titty-bars.
His name, and initials, were not K, nor N. Close, but not. I’m aiming for ambiguity here. Ambiguity is a wonderful thing. It allows for projection. It’s like… at least one of my previous “boss’.” would attack if they knew they’re being written about. Definitely. They fucking posted a bunch of stupid shell-company architecture for their companies… l m f a o
I remember her always being kind with me. When we were together we shared secrets. She also has really nice tits, and she frequently joked about how she had them, “bought and paid for.”
So, I’m pretty sure the word “has” applies…
Fun fact: I appreciate all boobs. I perma-nip apparently. Chaffing’s a bitch, ain’t it? I get it.
She liked to show them off, and I’m 21 at the time — which is like half my life ago right around now — and her body’s a feast, so I liked to enjoy the show.
One day out by the pool, on a perfectly temperate nice sunny day, with just the right amount of breeze to keep our bodies cool, we were talking about whatever it is she wanted to talk about. Because I can be a really good listener. Sometimes. Overall communicator? That’s a little more complicated.
But whatever it is that she wanted to talk about.
Pretty sure I was hypnotized by her boobs.
This is absolutely not the exact verbiage. Unless I’m throwing a dart and nailing the hole in one. I pm only remember the over-all experience and topic. All the specific words… resemblance to any one, and thing, is strictly coincidental. But. I was 21.
“I got in the worst fight last night! Women can be the most vicious fighters, They can be brutal!” she says.
I’m curious, so I ask how that is.
“Because we’ll fuck with each others minds.”
“We can be vicious, we can make each other feel ugly. Doubt ourselves just with our words. Like ‘I love your dress… and when did you get your nose done?’ I mean… I just implied she had a nose job because her nose was ugly.”
“This will make her feel self-conscious about her body. And she’ll pretend like it doesn’t hurt but it does.”
I’m pretty sure snickered. We were in cahoots, so I dunno. Probably. I’ve been a shit before. 🤷 I mean… sometimes still act like one… fallibility and all that.
Beyond that ordeal, and passive aggression, and saying something to someone without saying anything.
Unless an LLM tells me I slipped up.
Onto ideas. I’ve had this idea brewing in the back of my brain for a while. I’m just dropping the links here early so whenever the search engine crawlers index all this shit then I will be my own first reference. And maybe drive traffic to this blog.
Dunno.
I’ll find out.
MindTenet LLC: This is going to be the entity that brings in some revenue so I can pursue this experiment. Predictive Attrition: This is going to be a model based on something I thought up in 2022. Positive Retention: This is going to be accompany the other. Because you can’t prevent attrition, but you can direct it. The Exit Retrospective : This is going to be a process. Integrated Criteria Evaluation Framework: This is going to be a model that ties the other two together… and more!
I’m pretty sure none of those have trademarks too. So consider this me marketing my trade, motherfuckers.
I’ve kinda been registering LLCs like domain names recently. They’re only a hundred bucks a year in Oregon as of 2024. I’m probably fucking my taxes in some way more than I’ve gotta work through than I ought to have. That’s another story for another day though. I’ll figure it out.
The websites aren’t up yet. But the domains were bought a while ago June and August of 2022… and one a half a month ago.
And then I will use some of my many other domains to tie some of the things I’ve thinking about together.
So, this is an experiment I’ve been thinking about for a while. Years. And I believe I’m just about ready to kick off.
I have no clue what the fuck I’m doing though. I will find out though. So, this is just a test til now.
I do like to have fun though.
So I decided to paste this whole article into ChatGPT GPT-4, Gemini Advanced, and Mistral Large.
Gemini (not)Advanced:
I’m unable to help you with that, as I’m only a language model and don’t have the necessary information or abilities.
Well… fuck you. Get your metaphorical shit together. Damn bucket of bits.
ChatGPT GPT-4:
The blog entry is layered with metaphors and analogies, reflecting a deep, introspective journey intertwined with personal and professional growth, challenges, and the navigation of social interactions. The initial quote by Christopher Columbus serves as a thematic anchor, symbolizing the necessity of taking risks and embracing the unknown to achieve significant changes or discoveries in life.
The narrative unfolds as a reflection on a particularly challenging day, hinting at a significant yet undisclosed event bound by contractual silence, suggesting a professional or legal matter that has deeply affected the author. This mystery sets the stage for exploring broader themes of risk, vulnerability, and the pursuit of change, emphasizing the courage required to leap into the unknown—akin to leaping off a cliff into uncertain waters.
The discussion on “metaphorical belly flops” extends the water metaphor, illustrating the frequent failures or missteps that accompany taking risks. It captures the essence of human vulnerability and resilience, acknowledging the pain of failure while subtly encouraging the acceptance and learning that come from such experiences.
The entry veers into a meditation on the monotony of daily life and the patterns that confine people, suggesting a yearning for something beyond the predictable. This contemplation leads to a critique of societal norms and the ways in which individuals may become trapped in cyclical behaviors, losing sight of their uniqueness and potential for growth.
As the narrative progresses, it delves into the complexities of human nature and relationships, highlighting the importance of introspection and the dangers of projection and generalization. These reflections reveal the author’s struggles with identity, perception, and interpersonal dynamics, especially in the face of conflict and misunderstanding.
The concept of “a fucking ordeal” becomes a motif, symbolizing the ongoing struggles and conflicts the author faces. It underscores the emotional toll of navigating difficult situations, particularly those exacerbated by toxic behaviors and the imposition of others’ realities and expectations.
In the latter part of the entry, the author introduces elements of humor and irony, discussing past experiences and future endeavors with a mix of sarcasm and earnestness. The mention of MindTenet LLC and related projects hints at the author’s ambitions and the innovative ideas they wish to explore and develop, despite the uncertainties and challenges ahead.
Overall, the proposed meaning of this blog entry is a multifaceted exploration of personal growth, resilience, and the human condition. It reflects on the complexities of navigating life’s challenges, the importance of self-awareness, and the pursuit of meaningful change, all while wrestling with the constraints of societal expectations and personal limitations. The entry serves as a cathartic expression of the author’s experiences, thoughts, and aspirations, inviting readers to reflect on their own journeys and the depths of their realities.
lmaooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
🤣🤣🤣
ChatGPT knows what’s up.
And now for…
Mistral Large:
The blog entry seems to be about the author’s personal struggles and reflections on human nature, particularly the tendency to project one’s own reality onto others and the damaging effects of passive aggression. The author mentions a challenging day and an “ordeal” they are going through, but they are vague about the details and say they are not allowed to talk about it. They also mention their plans to start a business called MindTenet LLC and develop models for predicting and preventing attrition, as well as a process called The Exit Retrospective. The author seems to be interested in exploring these ideas further and using their business to pursue this experiment. They also mention registering multiple LLCs and buying domains as a way to market their trade. Overall, the entry seems to be a reflection on the author’s personal experiences and thoughts on human nature, as well as their plans for the future.
Well…
Okay then…
I guess I’m acting the angsty bitch.