Self Censorship: Scared to Think

If you’re scared to speak your mind your voice is irrelevant. In fear of saying the wrong thing, you’re already self policing your own thoughts and mind. Many fail to realize why censorship is so dangerous as they question their own critical thinking in place of conformity bias. Wondering if you might offend some Karen or Nancy holding back your thought process. Whether online or offline society requires self censorship and if you disobey you’re an evil misogynist.

All these movements and marches slicing off junks of the English vocabulary to comfort their accountability. Forced to bite your tongue so some nut bag doesn’t get triggered and throw a temper tantrum. Society being babied and coddled unable to have a debate or conversation without getting emotional. Many topics of interest thrown in the trash to stave of personal responsibility, as the illusion progresses people start to hide from their own reflection in the mirror.

In all aspects of society you’re graded on your ability to turn off critical thinking and go into robot mode. Clinging to the very system that has you depressed and suppressed in some weird Stockholm Syndrome LSD trip. Any new thoughts or ideas are labeled dangerous to your identity kicking off your cognitive dissonance alarm. Quickly reformatting the hard drive back to default so your circuits don’t over load. Freedom of thought is strictly for crazy people and insane asylums as you clock in for your 9 to 5.

Chasing validation and clout on social media and in the workplace your routine becomes programmed to stay inside the conformity bubble. Repeating the same trends and tasks so maybe one day you’ll be rewarded with an employee of the month plaque. Failing to realize your creativity and joy are being sucked out as the mosquitos of censorship buzz around your ears. Living in a state of depression and anxiety all because you’re scared to think for your self.

Relationships and family fall apart as little issues become huge with no ability to critically communicate. Problems get shoved under the carpet in fear of retaliation over feelings and emotions. Psychiatrists tickle your ears to keep you on their payment cycle repeating the same self help quotes as they drive away in their Mercedes Benz. Lawyers circling like sharks to take part in the fiat currency feeding frenzy as the system claps along to the beat of the song.

Censorship is far deeper than just cutting words out of the dictionary. Cancelling ideas and voices from being heard in the name of protecting the masses from using their brain. The system has deemed you’re far too stupid to judge things for yourself and act logically to accept or deny. These groups of cry babies, Karens, and bureaucrats have taken it upon themselves to decide what you’re allowed to say and hear. They’ve also decided how you have to interpret what is said and how you receive it. Your entire mind being toyed with as a puppet while they take control of the narrative.

It’s not about saying naughty or provocative words on the internet to incite people but rather the freedom to think and say what you want without fear. To express yourself without the thought of being shamed is what leads to true creativity and validation even if you’re not accepted. The reality is an artist has no creativity if they are worried about getting cancelled for how they paint their art yet so many are willing to sacrifice themselves for a world of black and white. Never painting their own picture as they remain a robot in the face of political correctness life starts to get quite bland.

The only way to fight back against self censorship is to unapologetically be yourself in the face of conformity and disapproval. People willing to sacrifice their social status to speak up and say what needs to be said without caring about cancellation or personal attacks. To stand on your individualism in the wake of the masses running in the opposite direction.

“In the end, there is no hope for freedom if men of the mind are not willing to truly stand for freedom, to make of themselves Gibraltar-like representatives of its attributes no matter what level of rejection, calumny and injustice is heaped upon them. This is the true role of the intellectual in history, his only role – to stand intransigently for truth and its concomitant of freedom, even in face of a vast social herd of academic pedants, poseurs, and media clowns stampeding the other way.” – Nelson Hultberg

Future of Pain: Coronavirus Conformist Mentality

Living in fear day to day wondering when the mysterious “novel” covid virus will strike. Like a surfer skimming the waves unsure what lays beneath. A small fin blades the surface of the water as your heart drops you fall off your board in a panic. As you start to cry and scream you feel something touch your leg. You can’t believe your life is over because some asshole wasn’t wearing a mask, plastic gloves, and a face shield… and now you’re going to die a slow painful death. You blame conspiracy theorists and critical thinkers alike for your shark attack.

covid 19 shark attack

So many living in self inflicted pain the future has been created for you. With no need for police or guns the elite sit back and laugh. Self regulated slavery with a pinch of genocide there’s nothing left for them to do. A self oiled system of yes men with an unending injection of misery. The future all created by yours truly. As you stare into the mirror you might start to question who’s really crazy.

As you strap on a mask you realize there’s no glory. Living on your knees it’s odd you can even call it a life with literally no story. The only thing you’ve been trained to do is obey and attack those that oppose the system that you so comfortably adore. Letting your depression and anxiety over ride deep in your core there’s only one thing left to do to prepare. Just shut your mouth slave, and put on your mask.

Covid 19 Mask
“When persons being held as slaves were accused by their masters of insubordination, or of eating more than their allotment of food, they might expect to be fitted with an iron muzzle.”

Drugs Never Let Go

To cut the effects of your drug of the night, a cup of water and lime should suffice. Whether it be crack cocaine, heroin, cigarettes, prescription pills, or Instagram. You might be reading this high as a kite or as low as some bottom dwelling ocean creature but just know there is a tomorrow. Another opportunity. Of course its much easier to run to the dealer and grab some more, but you’ll be back here reading this article the next day, just a bit more poor.

It starts with your mentality. Are you going to fight for survival or submit and use the back door. As exhaustion and hunger set in you search for anything you can eat before your reality turns off. You can choose to forget what you really thought right now and continue living in your black market habitat. In a few days however you’ll be searching for a way to make it stop again.

The side effect of fighting for survival will include depression and anxiety, along with some other frightening halloween nights. Don’t look at it as a negative though because in reality it’s just another opportunity in disguise. Even if your bank account is rock bottom and your make up is smeared you could always just go for a run. Hop on your bike and pedal until you can’t feel your bum. Jump in a boat and row until your capsized on an island with only a few coconuts and crabs.

This is your opportunity to go anywhere you want. To be the person you want to be. You just have to be willing to fight. Willing to call out to Jesus Christ in a prayer. Some stubbornness always helps as you get into the ring for a boxing match against yourself, but that can be acquired as you repeat to yourself, NO! No more!

It can seem impossible to say no to depression after coming down but you don’t have to let that be a negative as society would have you believe. You can use your depression as motivation to chase and fight for your survival. In your hunt for a new hobby or career, depression can actually be a good thing. If you’re honest with yourself you can root out the source and chase it down with a big ninja sword.

Use your depression as the foundation to build your new career or hobby, your new direction for life. It’s a good thing to feel depression. It means your alive. You’re not numb to this world but rather hurting from where it’s left you. Don’t stop with the foundation but continue to create and construct. When you look back you’ll realize how strong and smart you’ve become.

And always remember it’s impossible to do drugs if you’re running, pedaling, or rowing while shouting NO MORE!

Homesteading Cures Depression

Everyone gets depressed at some point in their life unless you’re a narcissistic sociopath. The reality is we all deal with our own problems, whether mental, physical, or both. We all struggle in different ways and assuming some drug or shrink is going to help you can actually make things far more worse. You become apathetic to your depression, accepting it as a part of you when it couldn’t be farther from the truth.

We indulge in repetitious routines that continually causes harm to our body and mind. Sitting in front of a TV watching Netflix series while jamming GMO wheat covered in fake sugar down our throats, washed away by liquefied fake sugar syrup pretending its okay because it’s “diet”. As if a trip to the gym after drinking some chocolate creatine powder stuffed with GMO wheat “protein” is going to remove the layers of caked on depression. We continue our routine without another after thought.

As thousands of WiFi signals and phone frequencies bounce around your apartment you wonder why your depression hinders your sleep. Like an electronic organ your WiFi plays with your mind all night. You lay in bed looking at the ceiling wishing your depression would go away. Never once looking in the mirror taking responsibility for your own environment or actions. No one forced you to suck down another cigarette (as I smoke one right now). No one forced you to drink and eat fake foods. No one is forcing you to live in an apartment.

Depression isn’t a disease or illness. It’s a condition we choose to live with by surrounding ourselves with depression educing programs like YouTube and other social medias. Constantly comparing our lives with those on the internet that may just be a figment of our imagination. We blame the shitty world and those around us but we have the choice to move, make new friends, or simplify our life to something we can enjoy. Partaking in new hobbies and adventures wherever you may walk.


Marijuana Rabbit Poop Plant Seeds Save Lives Nagolbud Rabbits

People wondering why they can’t be rich and famous or striving to buy a car they simply ride in for 20 minutes on their way to work. As they stare at a screen and click buttons on a computer they forget who they are. There soul is lost to a deity known as mammon. Caking on pounds of makeup and starvation to look like one of “Victoria’s Secret”s tranny models forgetting their role and motto.

Depression itself is something that never truly goes away however. It can, however, be a motivator to change something in our lives rather than seek out ways to become apathetic towards it. Depression is really just a subconscious self reflection of how YOU feel about YOUR life. Whether that reflection is based on reality, or your comparison to others is 100% on you. If your goals are materialistic and shallow the reward that follows will be too.

One of the most rewarding hobbies I ever started was raising animals, growing my own food, and harvesting everything in between. As I throw dead leaves on my lawn, watching chickens pick through it, pooping all over my plants… I can’t help but smile as my garden turns into a forest. As a new mother approaches from outside the coop she lets out a few clucks with a small army of chicks at her heels. The rooster crows to let you know he’s the daddy as the rabbits perk up and look about. There isn’t enough prescription pills or hallucinogenics that can replace the joy of playing with a new litter of baby bunnies. As they come out looking like little pigs they turn into little fuzzy fluff balls.

All of this however is not the reward. It’s simply the benefits of the hobby as you chase YOUR goal rather than one that was created for you by the very system that wants you depressed, repressed, and apathetic. Fresh eggs, vibrant plants, fruits, and veggies, fresh meat, and depending on your livestock, fresh raw milk. When combined with your dank strawberries growing in rabbit poop your mouth starts to melt. When you run out you start to realize the real reward. It was actually the entire journey as the process repeats itself.

Lost At Sea

Setting sail on a beautiful new journey,
From the top of a wave I realize I’m never returning,
The world around me shrinks down to what’s present,
As the wind picks up my adventure will never relent.

Smiling ear to ear as the pain is tucked away,
Forgetting about the past and future rapidly,
Looking into the horizon as the sun climbs its ladder,
Failing to realize I’m all alone in this matter.

As I reach open ocean isolation starts to creep in,
Wondering what I’m doing I take a peak back,
Only to see a city on fire with zombies on the march,
As they devour every living soul the sky starts to turn black.

Land locked by the masses my mind starts to cave in,
I take a new heading and alter the sail,
Deep ocean we’re coming as my patience wears thin,
Picking up speed as we ditch unnecessary cargo.

Cutting through the water our movement becomes largo,
Turning on auto pilot we prepare for the coming adventure,
Working up a sweat near the tropics hoping to not get calenture,
Jumping in the ocean to keep my cool as the sun reaches the ceiling.

Wondering why so many choose to live in the city,
The very thought of my freedom being so lonely,
As my joy slides across the ice it’s stopped by the goalie,
Laughing in my face like an invasion of the soviet army.

At the helm steering my vessel in the direction of freedom,
Noticing a storm on the horizon with a wall of destruction,
As the world flashes before my eyes it starts to close in,
Gathering my gear I prepare for the battle.

As lighting punches the water it starts to erupt,
Waves the size of skyscrapers start to corrupt,
My boat is losing integrity as it takes another upper cut,
Disoriented and confused as the hull takes one to the gut.

As reality sets in I make a run for the emergency raft,
Collecting my supplies I’m left to wonder how it happened,
As water shorts out the power my survival becomes blackened,
Screaming MAYDAY would do nothing but attract local sharks.

Climbing into the raft I take one last look,
As the ocean steals my boat like a thief in the night,
My heart starts to sink as the storm begins to fade,
Knowing now I couldn’t handle the fight.

Dehydration and exhaustion begin to attack,
Wishing I had stuffed one more water bottle into my pack,
Wondering if anyone will find me my soul starts to drown,
Looking back on my life with nothing but a frown.

As the days pass by it gets harder to push on,
Having no control over the current situation,
I spark up my last joint over looking creation,
Praying for a miracle I stare at the sun.