I've decided I'm going to brute force becoming God. By that, I mean I was already on the path to becoming God, now I've given up on doing it skillfully. Now I'm just gunna one-hand this bitch til it gives and I can put my dick in a turtle like the old days. Other things, too, like to be reunited with my family.

That shit's tearing me up, not having a family now. My dad just threw me away, blocked me from every avenue. I don't wanna think about that, cuz it hurts me. I had a thought last paragraph about "brute force vs skilled hacking," which is an idea that emerged into my consciousness when I was fifteen or so in the days where flash and browser games were king, particularly this one browser MMO, Pardus. Basically, you control a ship in the galaxy, there's an economy, factions, wars, aliens, pirates, all sorts of shit, right? Well, one thing you can do was hack, and I sucked at it, so there's the end of that thought.

But I remember trolling in that game's forum and others, such as the Ogame forums. Everything from pretending the engine of my ship disappeared via a glitch to making bizarre suggestions to improve the game to just straight-up hyperlinking porn. I suppose this, ultimately, is the foundation for what would become my knowledge-base for how to direct attention to my educational art project in social media comments through skillful trolling.

It's rather bizarre what a person will believe if you say it confidently. Around the same time, my junior year of high school, I passed out during the health class where we were shown STD's, which I believe has to do with how my only sex talk with my dad when I was ten was being shown diseased dicks on like rotten .com for over an hour. Yea, you get as broken as me when your one parent was a saint that died and your other parent is...whatever the fuck my dad is.

But, that story was going in the direction of talking about how I had to wear this heart monitor for a day, and I told people that I was doing an experiment with NASA. About seventy percent of freshmen believed me, about thirty percent of seniors. Interesting how the brain develops reasoning skills over the years, even up into your twenties. And that's the thing; I wasn't a good liar, I just did it often, having learned to "snap to" a lie, to mean conjuring some shit on the spot...because my father was the type to throw me into my bookshelf and then destroy everything my mother ever made me in front of me, blamed me for it, then proceeded to kick my ass and throw me on the floor where he told me to lay there like a dog while he cleaned it up in silence, but not without hitting me in the head with the vacuum cleaner, for just forgetting to take out the trash while his second wife was at a darts tournament and wasting his money. Cough.

There was a genius builder at one of the properties we stayed at in the cult. He made mutant vehicles for things like Burning Man; like, he was working on a four-story party bus with collapsible stages to dance on while we were there. Told this story abput how his father killed him with a brutal beating and he looked down at his body. Some of the things that were skillfully said to me made me realize how I sincerely judged my father's wrath more of a threat than the US military, and thus why I lied to my ROTC cadre. Something about boys with abusive fathers naturally become instinctive liars to avoid being hurt.

And I've had to learn to feel safe telling the truth. There's still moments where I'm put on the spot by my life partner or something, over something trivial and ultimately meaningless, but the sudden jolt of the fight or flight response makes me, not even really tell falsehoods anymore, but like flub numbers in the moment, but I'm getting good at correcting myself when my brain calms down and thinks like a rational person. Well, a rational person that would fuck a turtle at least.

I have one last thing to say. I have a memory about lying to friends, saying I hacked the Pentagon when I was fourteen. In this same conversation, I remember talking to a friend about Maddox, who I suppose had some significant influence on me, as the idea of having a number of links instead of a singular mass of text like Sam of Eclicia had in his millions of word long document he wrote every day on likely comes from the simplistic style of the greatest page in the universe, if that's still a thing.