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Showing posts with label psychosis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label psychosis. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 22

The Psychological Criminality in Unstructured Remote Communications Intents.

Being that I was not formally brought up with any nurturing environment instructions upon, nor mention of beliefs associated with remote communications and remote electronic psychological abuses (as they commonly presented to me as), I constantly falter in life, of failing in properly accommodating circumstances tantamount to attended to a “perceived” crisis, that it were; that it commonly is, as a topic portrayed to my senses. 

In my upbringing, the sanctity of the human body was educated upon Christian morals, beliefs, and values. 


1 Corinthians 6:19-20
Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God?

While the technology upon which remote communications and remote sensing is founded upon had existed for perhaps around 80 years, or so, at this point in time (2022 A.D.), the adoption of such technologies had been fed through various nations’ intelligence programs, and I commonly observe fervid nationalists of a foreign intelligence (non-traditional - within the context of an American upbringing of this generation, our cultural heritage, as Protestants, and as standardized in United States of America’s public school teaching). Remnants of first-generation immigrant parents’ cultural disparities and arrogance are diagnostic criteria seen in schizotypal and narcissistic behavioral and personality disorder-symptomatic individuals who (believably) present positive symptoms of schizophrenia, and of the general will, belief, and volition to perpetuate the psychological faux pas of asserting superiority, dominance, aggression, and persecution upon a targeted victim.

The laws of entropy are correlative, within this type of personality disorder, in understanding a formative and fundamental basis in establishing a behavioral conditioning methodology and engagement protocol in reprimanding the psychopath at issue, whereas, in my case, as an observer and victim alike, in remote communications disputes and targeting, I persist through the crisis and trauma, generally as a patient and perseverance individual, whereas I also, over extended periods of experiencing such a criminal sort and extent of improper attention and sociability, oftentimes find myself defaming people publicly, in hopes that the threat of social shame, in consequences, would eventually condition the perpetrator suitably, once I had come to establish a generalized belief that anti-social characteristics and personality traits could reasonably and historically have had been established - formal and commonplace methods of communications having failed in eliciting a response from the individual.

Wednesday, November 3

Some scraped intelligence, from Apple Search, to feed contexts and discovery in to Google Search.

 Is crypto literally simply founded upon illicit drug use and gang affiliations? - as the commonly, albeit slight, popular belief of the masses, had come to the fore? 

Who hadn’t slighted that belief, for staying up on news feeds during the pandemic, etc.? Who hadn’t experienced some sort of detriment, as a result of gang affiliated individuals collectivizing, gathering, creeping, and targeting victims? It’s been a quite blatant context of unknown extents, in my life; partially apparently due to the inclusion of heroin in to the personas - granted, I’m not completely immune from prosecution here, as a regular methamphetamine user, but I am trying to clamp down this notion of drug abstinence, and solace; of contentment in my standard self. I’ve been seeking ways in which I can instill practices, and disciplined formative traits in myself, in rebuilding a resilient and immune identity, where feigned disbelief intersects with the truth, for how much the remote-sensing quadrants operators and engineers could, or might, imbue me with some higher power that exists, out of a more or less faulty persona that could aught be supposed of a drug-abusing individual, for that these things are deemed to be unlawful. (I had a slight notion of starting beyond, at “albeit,” in this moment). 

The screen grab image here features an outlined app, of questionable merit and ethics, given the intimation of “gang” as the prevailing branding and title for an NFT-creating app.

A picture gleaned upon Apple’s Search processes suggests a dark intimation of what construes a highly popularized and centrifugal financial behemoth, given cryptocurrency’s moment in the spotlight, for having been novel, whereas now, the details are under federal government scrutiny and international regulations, constraints, and rebuke, of various issues at context, given cryptocurrency.

These sorts of Nijinsky are scarcely so autocorrected, contextually deeply-dug, such as “I doo-doo,” the claim. Who could remember, beyond the novelty? 

Ah, Nijinsky. Had I not even known - is what’s had had had happened - trying to regain traction, here. These autocorrect things, these days, with the introduction of “actual” improvements, bearing upon contextual intelligences, of machine learning, and of artificial intelligence - Apple and Google both, as big tech awrr rawr rawr rough and tough contenders to the popular titles of achievement and progress upon linguistic and visual perceptual GANs (Generative Adversarial Networks), and ooo… I had a dedicated and obsessive adversary, whereas I was more intent, on the keyboard, upon a “ab” (awkward, but that’s how I projected, in vivo, the sentence ought to be composed, d hoc, and improvisatorily, of an organic discovery and discernment upon the topic, thereof, and for that matter. 

Remembering? Well, that’s a bit tough, when I’m me, of the standards that I’d imposed upon others, whereas I’m a skilled typist, on mobile, and these autocorrect things… fwoppin’ bwopp? Priceless…?! et cie novelty-minded crumbs and knickknacks, of the minded-so aught of, thereupon, of outpacing this detriment - we have the written accord, of the textual nature, and composition’s … umm… there’s some legal term for this sort of dispatch. Not quite disposition, or exposition, butt shittle? … “even better,” it had once come to pass, upon the notion of cruising, at issue, of a legal matter… 

With that sort of GAN at formative construct, in nature, we could just opt to rebuild life, from the bitsies, and the pieces, of what had transpired, of on piss? Muah. 

Just maybe. 

But okay. That was an example of a Generative Adversarial Network, I’d suppose, and it just popped up, out of convenience. I’m the gritty-enough (un-)editorial drafts-type and typist to render that rawr awrr rough and tough little bitsies, crumbs, and knickknacks, fweef! 

And now, who could remember anything, once again? What matters? Who cares? All things had been taken care of, here, butt shittle? It’s all taken care of, here, already. 

Alright. The latest topic is that a man encountered me, the other day; a guy of a common; a more common sort, that I am, I’ll just be upfront about it - at least, of what he presented to me, but at least (once again - the GAN context impetuous underlying developing purpose at stake, of becoming less relevant, here) - at least he had artistic aspirations and offerings about himself. That was decent, I could say. What he said, though, of a different establishment, of the acquaintanceship, was that “it’s easy to hurt people.” Disregarding all else, that was an offensive superficial thing to flout, I felt. Bringing it to the current moment, I’m reminded of that I feed the pigeons, and the sparrows, and I try to sustain life, of these birds, out in the urban wild, as it were. These blogs are supposed to sustain the purpose and prescience of the guy who does that (me), and I happen to be the guy who does that, as me. I’m pinioned, as a guy who thinks of himself, to an unexpected extent, I suppose, and I guess that that makes me one who disregards people. I just feel like it’s appropriate. I did it to the guy, at one point, because he was flouting a certain type of inflection and intimation upon me, of which I find useless and condescending, whereas I had this slight pigeons and friends home art exhibition thing that I use as my sociable ladder, to climb in to casual civic “bed,” as it were, as for someone opening up to a notion of really getting to know me - the birds, the feeding, the art, the blogs, etc. 

Possibly, however, “the guy” has some of that sort of trait to him, in and of his own right, it’s just that I was a bit put off by his casual nature. It’s like, doo-doo comes first, then nobody can remember anything anymore. 

Ha.  

I couldn’t even… I just imagine that likewise, nobody else could, except that sometimes, I have this backing of a transcript dictaphoneur specialties-professionalism, in “somebody’s” higher authority stance, over me, whereas I experience problems, commonly, for enjoying myself, for example, on, like, a work day, and work day hours, for that matter, whereas I try to uphold a definition and reputation of a standard-classed man, for the people, and I let off flouted bitsies of the truth, in my admissions about stuff that I’d otherwise be known to do. 

The point, beyond all else, however, is a bit simple, of a premise. It’s about personal freedoms, somewhat, and it’s somewhat about boundaries. Now, given, I was wearing women’s balloon pants, and a poncho, and I looked a bit uncommon, as for myself. I don’t know what it was, I suppose. Maybe it was the smoking. The smoking in the household thing. I didn’t partake, because it was a pookie (a blown glass pipe used for smoking crystalline or resinous [oils] substances) - I’ve got no taste for that. Maybe that’s the non-pareil of establishment, here, supposing that people think, whatsoever. 

Alright, that was French, I’ll admit. Butt shittle? Not all that much for the better, as it turns out. But I did pull out a Nijinsky, and who could refrain from researching that thread of intelligentsia bitsies… 

*~<°^•>=/* just imagine, though, Nijinsky. Some people know Nijinsky like we were brought up on Lé Coqué-tard. Russian imperial, versus French modernism ex imaginative fwopp-lore. 

I suppose that, in the end, I’m just trying to find my suitable place, in the aesthetic of suitable geometries or placement in serendipity, amongst others, and I didn’t even watch the movie. I don’t, no. I doo-doo. I don’t quite understand… butt shittle? Some people just don’t read my shit, is what’s (I guess), the issue, whereas it’s so seemingly awfully compelling to the lower mindsets of individuals, and of responsibility. 

 

Tuesday, August 17

I have borderline people in my head, back at home.

 People who know me, of my recent mockup self, know that I toe a contentious line about my narcissism, being that there are a couple, or so, variants of narcissism, and even at that, given "whatever," about this guy, or that, and we're all sufferers of the same ailment, to some degree; yet each of us would prefer our own brand, of things, when it comes to who's personality traits, and ideations, etc. end up being the more fruitful and attractive persona in society. 

The textbook Narcissism spectrum is a 5-step set of distinctions in depravity, or misfortune, as it were, pinioned about the topic spectre of Narcissism (to reiterate) at issue. It begins with ...

Well, I don't remember. But there's grandiosity, delusions of grandeur, borderline personality disorder, as the middle trait, then psychopathy, and lastly, paranoid schizophrenia, as the final trait that defined the narcissist, and their inevitable outcome, with the psychiatric industry. 

No? This is a poor topic, for some, or, in some regards. Yet, I constantly deal and cope with a reality of having to accommodate people who destroy any semblance of a proper relationship that had been established, whereas those moments seem to have lost importance, for the person. People had been working overtime, and at all hours, trying to offer in a therapeutic approach, to no avail. Heartbreaking attitudes, sadistic fantasies, and many various sorts of care to abuse people, from a networked and arbitrarily tangential outlook and outset, from the core identity of a single victim; finding casualties in innocent bystanders, friends, relatives, etc. 



That's all I'll say; just my input, as to acknowledge that it's still going on, on this day. 

Friday, May 21

Being a 'Normie' Guy Amongst the Age of Hormonally-Enhanced Male Subsets.

 Of on Dick Big Now, 

I, personally, could maintain that I'm not quite up to, or for it, given that my underlying psychological sexual affinities draw much closer to extended foreplay and orgasm denial.

Not that I'd been having much opportunities in heterosexual dating arise, any time recently, but I'm banking on that people live longer, in general, over time; I'll improve in my life's circumstances, over time, and I'm [unbeknownst, previously] just a particular someone who's time has come to a generational halt: the ones who enforce these types of upstart cells are jackin' juice, trying to keep up with law enforcement surveillance detail, and sometimes, or for correcting physical abnormalities inherited from birth, or from youth, in their nurturing environment's circumstances. 

I'd casually experimented with Testosterone supplementation, on one occasion, in life, as a dumpster digger treasure-hunting bum, digging through a dumpster. I found a 1/3rd (or so) syringe labeled as testosterone in a dumpster, and I happened to be in the Fairfax district of Mid-City Los Angeles; nice neighborhood, so I figured, "why not?" I took it as that the testosterone was for external and topical use. When I got home, I rubbed some of the creamy substance on to my shoulders and chest, since that was the area in which I would have liked a bit of growth and improvement on. Over the next day, or so, I had developed a somewhat buzzing, electric feel, around the area, and the muscles that I'd applied the cream to had a dull ache about them, as if I'd worked out, which I hadn't, much, besides that I was out collecting recyclables. 

These days, I'm a bit bulky hefty, in my upper body, and I'm significantly muscular in my legs. I go on long walks around town, several times a week. 

Cheap trick shit, of a hooker, or « something like that », a Dick Big Now would commonly have of it. As for myself, I feel that I would be troubled significantly more so, if my penis was getting in the way of my life, in common scenarios, come to pass, as they do, all the time. For that matter, I'm circumcised. I don't have to worry about things in regards to my privates that my parents hadn't taken care of, already, and also based on what's known about health. 


"The human race is in peril because of people who use drugs religiously."

 - unknown male observer, 4:55 p.m., May 20, 2021.

At some point in time, I feel like many of my life's circumstances and problems do, in fact, arise from out of other people in life who take issue with me. The latest was just yesterday, where, the day prior to yesterday, I had serviced a client I'd met through craigslist, and he bore some resemblance to some other guy I'd known, previously. I don't really gossip about people; I try to keep it Christian, but the circumstance was that there was a debate over who was the most handsome tweaker Nazi of downtown L.A., or "something like that," whereas I'd garnered some support for myself, in the run for achievement of that end, in life, "supposedly," based on that women's remote personas were being portrayed as such. 

So, I get pwned sometimes. It's most typically portrayed to me, in my mind, as *some guy." At times, the man is shielded of his identity towards me, yet only for an ephemeral extent of time. Inevitably, the man is ousted of his veil of secrecy, and intimations of that a law enforcement officer, or some sort of surveillance agent, had been figuratively embodying the interlocutor, imitating his affect and formant through means of technology, whereas the person whom I am familiarized with had been, in turn, himself pwned by surveillance, and a drama in which he is presented with me, imminently myself, somewhere else in the world, by most means of imaging (typically). For as much as the portrayal of me is worth, of for « thoughts | imagination | beliefs » sake, the man finds the novelty of me timely, and an adjunct to ascending the ladder of sociable capital and narcissistic supply. 

Inevitably, when the ruses of transpired suggestibility become played back at me, I'm so commonly simply prepared for the relentless siege upon my freedom and autonomy, being that I am (and "we" are, for all intents and purposes) the same age as these people (I'm currently 39 years old), and I'd obviously grown up, as a child, expecting that I'd be living a family life, dating, settled down, working, more or less: standard stuff in life; I feign existential circumstance as though I'm now babysitting my school days' peers, as an adjunct mental health professional (although I'm unpaid for that task, and I hadn't gone through formal education for it; only personal pursuits in study of psychology and abnormal and antisocial personality disorders, of which subject had been of considerable aspirations, for me, in learning, given that I suffer from bipolar disorder, myself. The difference is, is that I'd had private medical insurance afforded me, through my parents, during my upbringing, and I'd been more situably appropriate for standing in on abnormal psychological stubs of egotistical and grandiose psychology traumas of my former peers, whereas I'd had a streak of wild financial and romantic successes, quite commonly, in my former early adult years. People became sick of it (guys, for the most part). These were guys that knew me as a different person. Don't people leave high school and establish their furtherance in successes in life, for moving forth in education or employment, via some route of expected progression throughout adulthood? 

It's trite, by all means, yet I sometimes emerge as the « graces-bestowed » charismatic self-aggrandizing and condescending narcissist.

Shit as it is, compared to intimacy and affections, we're only as much as handicapped could suppose of the situation, of that the belief of « sight unseen, winner take all », although, upon offering things a second thought, or a few seconds of stepping back, and establishing composure, it's apparent that remote-sensing-initiated encounters levy us handicaps, at best; we're not afforded our imminent concurrency of our physical environment, for one; forgetfulness, listlessness, and glitches in thought processes and memory are common shortfalls in such a developmental environment, where drugs are undoubtedly most commonly involved, and humility is a character trait and virtue that had perhaps not been imbued upon the unfortunate children inside of them, abused of that many of us had been, of some sort, and that it had gone without acknowledgment, or corrections, throughout and up to this point in our early middle professional semi-adult lives. 

Other people are treated differently, by these guys. The entire premise of American values, at their most fundamental, is fraught with abuses and dissidence, through these young men, as if virtue itself was disposable, and extending in to quantum mechanics and communications intelligence industry and productivity means we're somehow on our minds, whatsoever, as children that we had been, as we knew each other, whereas people still find my childhood self relevant, somehow, and I'm left with only supposing that misfortunes had befallen them, as hapless abuse victims of their early developmental and nurturing environment's had been all that they realize and care for; our fathers being faulty, for as much as they could have been afforded in life, whereas now, excuses of merit and attainment are null concomitants in life, and expectations, in intellectual actualisations and capable selves, that we could, and ought be, are falling short of ourselves, whereas the tape roll may or may not have some active attention and oversight | followup, if you will, by some distanced third party objectivity mind about the matter. 

In a more effective, impactful, and well-developed economy and society, intelligence would be expended liberally, as though we could play with the notion, while gaining in merits, for that developments, upon efforts, were the pleasurable pursuit and receipts of our blockchain ledger of harmonic tariffs expenditure that come to pass. At some point, artificial intelligence and machine learning superiority takes precedence over human-naked capable self, where quickness in perceptions to success ratios are commonly measures of intellectual merit, of just one form of merit, in intelligence quotient (IQ), and where cloud compute ephemeralities of remote sensing persona and presence, peering in, upon us, is the inevitable consequence of which we are afforded the liberal freedom of will, as it were, and given of that we are allowed our freedom of will, by our nation's constitutional foundry and formative statements. Surely, as some sort of anti-nationalist coup were to establish itself, we blurry the lines of distinction of identity, place and time, which had been regarded as self-indulgence partitioning of needs-based fulfillments pursuit, and "privacy leisure," such that I commonly end up finding myself commonly still pleasuring myself, watching pornography, whereas I'd had "good enough" relationships and attainments in life, to accept furtherance in needs fulfillment, such that I don't find, as a remote sensing abuse novelty, for men whom I'd used to know, in teenage and childhood years. 

Surveillance causes entropy.

It takes energy (heat, in essence, of some various sorts and forms). Sure, we take drugs; we "need" drugs, for that energy (our neurotransmitters and parasympathetic nervous system) are being actively monitored and interventions are brought forth, of our concurrent selves, given life. The monitoring, in and of itself, requires that energy is lost, in the process of observing and analyzing these slight and subtle broadcast and radar energetic signs, of ourselves. Many of us have personality shortcomings, of our upbringing, such that we find ourselves lacking in attaining the suitable and acceptable selves that we'd like, and remote sensing monitoring is supposed to be for the sake of improvement, not for abuses of others.

People appreciate their own sickness 

in the same manner that a smoker has affections for their own smoke-flavored phlegm, during a bout with pneumonia.

Sure, a guy might have a bigger dick than me, and I simply don't care for it. Who could blame me? I'm fine with my own submissive fantasies; I work these things out, over time, and I learn what truly pleases a woman: being self-sufficient, self-reliant, and non-problematic, whether it be in bed or not, and how much of bedtime relations ought be a focus within the scope of a long-term relationship, anyways? 

I'd shrugged guys off, recently, of a mounting psychic attack regime of on dick big, going on months, now, that it's been relentless like that. Is the threat of my conservative Christian nature aspirations in life seriously that much of a threat to men, of such a large swath of them? There are other men who are employed, for example, looking in on my topic issue remote sensing contextually, and I must say that the standard|-ly| employed demographic fares much better in resilience and self-esteem. 

Let's face it, stalker guys. We're not quite allowed the full freedom and agency support of the authorities, themselves. I don't know what's going on, of on dick big, but I'd suppose that it's something as simple as Freud's plighted child and infant stage dilemmas, whereas I don't know a whole lot about masturbation and sexuality of a time before I became cognizant and linearly-minded, of the world. That happened around age 5. One of my first memorable characteristic knowledge contexts was that I knew how to pleasure myself. I became a classical pianist, and my hands were imbued with extra focus, for example, given the extents of my knowledge base and repertoire of activities I might have, and did - engage in. Musical knowledge is one of the 8 or 9 intelligences, after all, and people otherwise appreciate musicians, and their lives and livelihoods.

It's like, they can't stand the fact that I'm me, and I receive pleasure from up and out of myself, sometimes. It's a sad thing, to be sure; if I wasn't me, and I had to be myself, as well, of some notion, but people are supposed to have something fair enough and decent about themselves, in any case. I worked hard in learning, growing up. As hard as I was capable of; yet people had been doing this "talking at me" thing since my childhood, I'm sure. All of this sort of knowledge base will inevitably become formalized in the future, and acting out in one's "private" time would surely reap additional consequences, once the statistics in communications intelligence become analyzed for cost and casualties incurred, compared to benefits of « other cells » of people who were allowed to operate differently. Keep in mind - affecting me, as a personalized favorite target has very scrum little effect on society in general, whereas common society moved forth, regardless, and despite that abused like this are playing out. Sure, it's a "easy" target to exploit - imagining that "talking at someone" is as good as "actually" speaking with someone, but you guys are mentally and emotionally unwell and immature. I say that there's some dick big and Freud's Penis Envy, or some other genitalia-sordid context underlying the thing. My penis is just standard normal, by any measure of evaluation. It's just standard, but was sexuality simply this much the issue at all times, every day, though? Women are going to learn standard and appropriately proper "stuff," sooner or later, and weirdos will be sorted out and fall short in effecting well and nurturing relationships, for courting abuses and psychosis, inevitably of that these guys smoke or shoot their drugs, whereas I offset the potential for risk and danger by limiting myself to snorting, and I honestly just don't, and can't - [quite] get that high. I don't get as high as these guys, anymore, and I feel that they are getting that high, smoking and shooting their drugs, or whatever, and sexually abusing me, as a false idol, whereas I become the representative of the sexually-abused person, in judgment over them, for the fact that sexuality had been repressed and reprimanded of me, whereas I grew up comfortably, in pleasuring myself, and these guys are trying to boycott and abuse even that, of myself. 

Saturday, May 30

Opinion: What the nationwide uprisings signify, of a sociological and urban evolutionary perspective.

Current appearance, 11:46 a.m., May 30th, 2020. At Target, near Brentwood, CA, USA


First of all, I'll be succinct about my stance on the Minneapolis crisis over the death of a suspect, in the process of detaining the man. I fully support law enforcement in their protocols. 

I feel that this simple basis, as a perspective in on the issue is largely what's at issue with the crowds of protesters, who are obviously primitively flaunting their suppressed egos and battered self-esteem, in times such as this; not to mention, it's the end of the month (May, 2020), and it's a duly fearsome time for many recipients of welfare. 

Whereas my general disposition imperative, of several to many of recent years, has been to ally myself with the dogmatic spirit of the 12 Steps program, in recovery and rehabilitation from drug abuse (which had just last night wreaked a bit of havoc upon my life's stability - I indulged in a debaucherous night in the Baldwin Hills Motor Inn - a local dive spot that was discretely introduced to me, for it's hourly rates and chintzy mirrored walls and ceilings. 

I couldn't take my eyes off of my new MacBook Air, which I had purchased just earlier in the day. 

... 

Which brings up another point in perspective - I got my Economic Impact Payment, from the U.S. Treasury Department - which I find to be a significant ringer in the debate as to whether or not Donald Trump will be re-elected, as far as the margins leveraged upon his persona and supposed identity, which has been largely exploited and unduly defamed, of reasons and intentions unclear to me, despite the fact that these views are also [had been, and still are]: first hand relations to me, on my Facebook profile. These types of contentious posters are somewhat just casual relations and acquaintanceships, from meeting once, or several times, perhaps, of a superficial sort that had not seen much reciprocity in nurturing a deeper connection. 

Oh well. Such is social media, for me. 

Then, there's the world of shortwave frequency band resonance broadcasts of the futuristic world that began nearly a full century ago, and which was developed through programs such as the MKULTRA intelligence programs, of fabled lore, yet not undocumented, and relevant, at that. 

The force with which a person is being controlled, for the subject (as each individual, of this abnormal psychological assay and surveying battery of diagnostics and tribunals lays it's vast expanse - of the world of psychology, in it's many facets. 

The duly manifold consequentials of that the COVID-19 pandemic are somewhat that the logistical and embedded worlds of the Physical Internet, the internet of Nearby Connections, and the Internet of Things are reachinga state of maturity in technical engineering, of a finery sort, such that devices of a physical circuitry board, and manufacture, are resonantly scalably accommodated, as virtual periphery - what we (I, at minimum, can acknowledge it) experience as remote sensing and remote surveillance; of which, amongst my peer groups, of social media, and former school days, of corroboration - I am a most centralized subject of inquiry, for the sake of efficiency and efficacy of the observants, in and around my periphery and contextual relevance; of indices of influence, of measures by which statistics and logic lay fare of their basis, upon the inquisiting mind, over man, that it might sometimes be. 

That being said, I've also come to a fairly mature stage in my development, of future technologies, within the facet of remote sensing, as well: known as space drama, as inquirers of the internet in to a short-term study in to Scientology, for example, could attest to, as familiar basis. 

That being said, these sorts of engagements are vastly cutting-edge urban and civic evolutionary models of establishment, and of expectations thereupon, and thereof; yet, in professional spheres, such as law enforcement, the psychological contingency of behavioral and forensic analytical skillset are largely at issue, of their formative scientific and civic basis, to begin with.

That being said, [I just recalled, in the non-editorial form of my writing as linear establishment, history would attest]: interestingly, (earlier on, in this text), the statement of "I just received my" was quite intelligently followed by: 

See for yourself:
 
 As you'd observe, let your attention fall upon the livid realization that Gboard, in all it's ubiquity of many libs and resources of development, in to the cutting-edge technologies of contextual DialogFlow, Tensor and Machine Learning, Artificial Intelligence, and more - all part of the host developer's (Google, LLC) significant investment in to establishing transparency in ubiquitous efficacy of user autonomy; ever becoming more [potentially] momentous, in it's small and every day facets of reach in to dynamics far beyond the individual's capability to suppose, and to « correctly » [accurately] intuit and predict the behaviors of others, the goings-on, of the world around us, and at large. 

Imagine that, for many centuries and millennia, thinking back on the topics of scrying, Inquisition, tea-leaf cadtings, fortune telling, and prophecies - these are all antiquated quasi-and-semiologically based interpretive fields of pursuit. 

These days, which we live in, technology subverts the unknown, through nurturing intelligence, establishing context and basis in people's lives, and in and of their formative establishment of relationships and social dynamics across a vast remote spectroscopy global endeavor. The linearity of individuality in contextually autonomy, per se, is such that could, ostensibly, have had been established, for the observant remote sensing participant, as well as on behalf of the counterpart observant, participant, overseers, authorities; such as this. 

Keeping in mind, that, in particular, in the field of technology, it's simple to acknowledge that there are authorities on various subjects and issues. Some people are simply better at certain things, at the time we find ourselves fraught with a technological existential crisis, that it oftentimes is. 

That being said, to centralize the contexts a bit, in mind:

Bluetooth Low Energy ephemeral identifications of signal broadcasting strength, par relevance of ostensible proximity of a signal gatherer, within the context of passersby and plotted IoT Nearby Connections, Physical Internet, and Beacon technologies - here, relevant, on account of establishing location and proximity data - are capable of synthesizing resonant mock-ups of physical and manufactured devices - simply through the harmonic resonance of matter itself, at inquiry - lately, the vastly relevant topic, as the Coronavirus testing subject is at issue, and as that Google and Apple had determined that their devices could, and would - with the ingenuity, [at scale] of civic and local governments, put to task: of establishing the localized contact tracing app, of which the whitepapers had been released by Google over the past month or two, in digitally published and distributed form. 

Remote sensing and shortwave and frequency-band spectroscopy is the more intelligent explanation for schizotypal madness. The assumption that we are ever truly "ourselves" within the foray of multiple autonomous intelligences is at issue. Conversely, at that, a lack of significant diversity in intelligences, and perspectives, opinions, morals, ethics, for example, is also an issue that comes in to play, when minorities assemble and become activist - violent. 

On one hand, the violence isn't much really the issue. Just as there are superiors and intelligence hiérarchies in tech, just the same - finding a superior of physically violence-force and willingness to commit - such things are primitivities, in the scale and scope of what civic and urban life entail - that people of many various social strata and structural underpinnings exist together, yet the social distancing prescriptive is something that becomes suddenly more frightening, to the peaceful observant of civic culture - for having been primitively violated - for having been bitten, for feeding a needful one, for example, or for being talked up a bit socially unintelligently, by a filthy homeless person, who was perhaps unaware of his detriment upon others, perhaps intentionally depraved and socially demerit, by decidedly marketing that persona, for whatever drives that person. 

What's the point? 

Perhaps many individuals were simply fraught of a multi-faring several dilemmas in life, and "... Who knows?" 

- just what business owners who shuttered their businesses are, or hàd been doing, during the pandemic, and now, in the reopening phases? Many establishments had significantly drawn back their Enterprise's physically indoor locations' accoutrements and offerings to the public, [through looking through the windows, from the sidewalks], and many other establishments partook of their entrepreneurialism spirit in offering marketable and within ordinance boundaries offerings of take out, and delivery, for example. 

It was a mild ecosphere for the modest entrepreneur to venture a new enterprise, for the outside mask vendors, here in Los Angeles. Some people flaunted a spark of social entrepreneurialism, by couturizing their statement and participation in wearing a mask, or face covering; here, of a decorative sort. 

Some people chose not to wear a mask. 

How things turned violent, in so many distributed locales? 

I'd venture that some of these cultures are languishing behind, in societal and civic evolutionary ecospheres, and appreciations of the magnificence of what technology, today, offers us, of aversion from needing to assemble, through establishing things that are marketable and duly just and fair, for an establishment entrepreneur of modest means and of humble intention; yet some things, of a biased identity basis ring clear, in recent interactions I've had. 

"Everybody knows English in this country." 

It's not [quite] how I was raised, so I'm not a biased one, on that contingency. 

I really don't know. 

... « what some people are saying, sometimes » ... 

But when the higher tiers of social and societal and spiritual support mechanisms are thwarted, the contexts of intent, and of affect, are of issue. 

Some people are simply deprecated, at the time we encounter them, as far as the societal standard goes. 

In civic activism, of a disruptive and violent nature - perhaps ignorance and neglect is at hand. These were ones that couldbt have been reached, in time, over here, in Los Angeles, and maybe some of them are simply not invested in a standardized and accommodable American identity, and through such identity - the lifestyles and promises afforded to Americans, which we had grown up learning about in our public schools. 

I'd say that it ought to take more than a physical identity (of a visceral and visible nature) to truly determine the quality and sustainability of a person, as individual, in this day and age. 

People are capable of adjusting and accommodating; of assimilating, and of evolving. Higher modalities of mindset and of acquaintanceship lead to much more fruitful establishment of identity and fortune in life. 

Over time, the violent threats become standoff talk-downs, from the ledge of leaving establishment, and for venturing off in to a sea, or ocean, of unattractive social identity foray; unsustainable, perhaps. 

For me, I remarked on attractiveness. It's one of the formative tenets of the recovery establishment, which, in and of itself, branches off in to the social psychology spheres of relationships, within the perspective of recovery. 

Handing over abuses and violence is quite simple to establish, and primitive; at that. The simple and primitive life is afforded to all creatures, lest we lose the good graces of what technology establishes, as a much finer engineering and scientific endeavor. 


Saturday, May 23

For parents of antisocial personality types - an outlook and perspective from the front lines.

Being a parent is challenging, and perhaps a long-gone memory. (20 years, 10 years... I couldn't narrow it down, completely). 

Pigeon-Toes!!!


I'd say that I could relate, though, in that I used to raise fine pets - dogs and birds. I've raised a few litters of dogs, and dozens of birds - for me, it was lovebirds, but also several wild specimens - a blue jay, a sparrows, a hummingbird, that didn't quite make it.

The point is, is that I'd developed what I'd assert, is an advantageous position in the foray of nurturing environment - coupled with intensive personal studies, outside of academia - of abnormal psychology, both to repair damages that had been committed upon my youthful years, and, in turn, to understand the underlying psychology of the personality types that form, out of the young adult mind of the millennial, the later generations, with keeping in mind, the challenges and spectrum of diverse ecology of the mind's apparatus, within the scope of the nuclear family, as well as the extended family type. 

My type (currently) is clean-cut, work-ethic minded, heavily invested in laborious deeds, and acts of merit to sustain my station in life, as a homeless person, yet at least, that I'm a free person. 

My shortcoming is that I have a stimulant abuse problem, although I don't smoke or shoot up, only intranasal usage. (Perhaps once per week, currently). 

I hear voices. 

When I was a child, I was directly bullied for acting out, as far as that I imitated gang and popular culture behavior of the hazing and subjugation of females and cultural others. 

I've made my peace, as a sober man, in practicing the 12 Steps. 

etc. 

What I can report about this generation, is that many types of likewise-aged individuals have not yet come clean, and she'd off the young-life prejudices and joking natures of discriminatory and racially-slight attitudes. Many of the "unique" subjects, of my demographic, are being bullied in their own ways. 

Drug use is an obvious mechanism of this. 

Sexually acting-out also plays a large role in things. I can assert that many types of social strata cases, of your children, are fraught with identity crises of various sorts - narcissism, antisocial personality, borderline psychosis - I see individuals regularly who are speaking in to the air "at nobody," expecting a response. 

Now, I'm sure that you all know that they are not alone, in speaking themselves, and expressing their feelings and thoughts. Yet, the trouble is, is that they are largely loose cannons. Petty thieves, relentless drug abusers, sexually-indulgent sorts. I had been all of these things, myself. I do try to be a role model for your children, when I encounter this sort, but I oftentimes have a challenge of establishing that a higher power, in the social establishment, and in religion - exists. 

It's a challenging world out there. 

I'll keep people updated, as the years go on, with the results of my efforts surely to produce recognizable results, alongside other modalities of treatment and intervention that largely go unspoken, between parents and their case workers. 




Sunday, March 29

Wednesday night - an iPigeon « peeped out » wandering about DTLA; an uncommon demographic to appear in the area; inevitably, I have to sleep, at some point.

Wednesday night, in downtown Los Angeles, California, was a hum-drum paltry showing, mostly, of the typically lively and vibrant social life that feeds the bar and restaurant scene in the area. On this night, it seemed, the locals of the DTLA area were mostly suitably dissatisfied with the offerings of what could be had, « despite all things » of that we were on lockdown, by order of the various higher-level government institutions (actually, all levels of government, I suppose), and the streets were, in turn, filled with a much different, and definitely seedier demographic, of which, I might surmise, was not unfamiliar to me, given some consideration; yet, to have witnessed the Los Angeles County Sheriff's busses entering the Justice Administration building, and the narratives that had spun off, from that, (from that morning) - the linearity of the sinister contexts that unfolded were that of a most "of on homie" « named » gang, of which some of my former peers had strong affiliations with | for, and, as well, strong affections towards. 

I remember the imagery of the persona | man who had stalked me in Santa Monica, detailing, from the time at the crosswalk stop light, throughout the crossing of the street - of that he had pinned me as a targeted subject of study, prior to meeting me; yet here, thankfully, the man presented himself as a woe-stricken, conciliatory, and repentant individual, having been in incarceration, (conceivably), with our interaction leading him there, whereupon we parted ways - the police officer succinctly had told me to "go that way," which was the opposite of where the suspect had been scooched over, on to the sidewalk; the police cruiser separating myself and him. I went to the Santa Monica Police Headquarters, as I had originally been directed to do, when I called 911. (The man continued to follow me, as I was on my way there. He spoke of things, such as "how about we commit some crimes together?" - which I felt was overly seedy and seditious in nature; in addition, he seemed to be aggressively in disavowal of a common space between us, from the moment I observed him - staring at me, wearing sunglasses, whereas he spoke of and at me with familiarity, and he seemed set on acquiring some trinket or token of my person, with this as the outset, of what might have been a different sort of acquaintanceship, otherwise.

Yet, here, in his desperate recants of his behavior, and of the people who had enticed his vulnerable-state self with notions of some notions of that "of on homie," for it's seditious and capricious nature; for it's formative declarations of sedition and caprice - novel, to some; mindlessly irresolute, though, I'd say. Yet seemingly (and easily) hundreds, if not thousands, of same such-wise formative individuals seemed out in staunch force, in Downtown Los Angeles, as I attempted to sleep through the night next to a Metro rail station by Staples Center, and the Convention Center, in a parking lot. A drunken man, otherwise sociable, flaunted features of that I could not help but not sleep, for his ministrations, of a decidedly Latino etymology - his pidgins, which were threatening and ominous in nature, as well as [perhaps] grandiose, in that he seemed to believe, (or have tactical awareness of my positioning, and travails, leading up to "parking it," at the parking lot, where I imagined that others (losers, perhaps, like myself, I might similarly have seemed), yet - 

Even the children we're fraught with problematic behavioral conditions - on one hand, they were older, for that age that they obviously were, audibly, as youthful teenagers, or was it that they had simply been of the age to receive oppositional-defiant personality disorder, their forebears, as well, and that none of them, of the conditional of, of the affiliation to "of on homie," the gang, whereas it's simply a bit troubling, in that some of them present themselves as kind, charitable, and sociably well-to-do, and just earlier that day, with me, in fact. 

The problem is, is that these "of on homie" behaviors and mannerisms are imbued in to subjects wittingly, and with effort; whereas the man who had stalked me was one to recant, and rebuke: the affiliation, the lies, the impropriety of the flimsy institutional underpinnings of the organization, whereas many others were | are treated with caution, for showing up, in the general public, on a Wednesday night, me, being one known, and self-aware individual-as-targeted-victim, some various other errata of things that perceivably went on, during the course of such an influx of revelers, of the Wednesday night, that it was, whereas there must | ought to be some compromise, in solution to the obviated problems, of that they were, many of them: disheveled, not well-assertively-bespoken, of the words that they would say, some of them gay, or seditiously so. Had I posted my other blog on "some guy" on the morning of this Wednesday? I believe so. He pulled some sorry drunken gay guy stuff on me; it made me think on Covid-19 social distancing demands, that (supposedly) everyone would have caught wind of, or at least have noticed, out in society, of that « something » was amiss. 

In any case, that was this passing Wednesday, March 25th, on my end. 

Tuesday, August 13

I've been cleared for another year at my apartment.

The Housing Authority of the City of Los Angeles cleared my apartment at inspection time, this time around. 

It's been a controversial issue, as it had roiled on since late last year, when [something] came of issue, although the housing inspection is supposed to be an annual thing. I had some adversarial moments pop up, which I outed on social media.


You can imagine... <_ td="">

It's been a central focal point of many of my recent meetings with my social workers, and with such difficulties as I've been having with endless bouts of schizophrenia, I've largely been stuck at meek apologies for not performing better, in terms of cleaning up the place,

Thankfully, the HACLA inspector cleared my place; this view is actually significantly improved over how messy the floor had been, previously. I graciously received help from Alexis and Lionel from Telecare as far as cleaning my place, a week or two ago. :)

and, as well, for the broken windows, which I had done while being stalked and prodded by "people I used to know."



A sorry story, but likely the burden of many of us who came of age at this place in time that it had been: the DSM-IV standard textbook diagnostics of the schizophrenic prognosis of onset at age 30, most typically. 

As an aside, I've since then come to realize and understand that [now <_ -="" also="" and="" as="" at="" been="" case="" childhood="" crisis.="" div="" epochs="" had="" in="" individuals="" it="" lifetime="" mid-life="" nbsp="" of="" onsets="" or="" other="" perhaps="" potential="" previously="" schizophrenia="" such="" teen="" that="" the="" touch="" well="" years="">

What is the correlation here, and why does it matter? 

The significant issue at had is the volumarity of distance according to proximity in place in time; a common [or not <_ a="" abuse="" all="" and="" are="" as="" belief="" better="" both="" by="" comes="" common="" communicatory="" due="" each="" employed="" facet="" fallacy="" for="" from="" given="" graces="" greater="" higher="" i="" in="" individuals.="" internet="" is="" language="" learned="" logical="" modes="" more="" my="" natural="" nbsp="" never="" of="" oftentimes="" or="" our="" own="" p="" powers="" prognoses="" received="" science.="" signals="" stalkers="" statistics="" strong="" subject="" term="" than="" that="" the="" their="" to="" understood="" universally="" upon="" us="" virtues="" we="" what="" which="" would="">
Likewise, a group is only as strong as it's weakest link. 

What matters is that, and such that I oftentimes (tiredly) compose over again, as is this time; such that I'm « supposedly » known for, in the first place.

By now.

What matters to me is the simple objective artifact of truth or in representation thereof. Beyond that, it's come down to forensics and Scientology, letting slip (some-and-at-times) mis-and-un-fortunate slips, which I and others happen to acknowledge.

How does a Christian individual resolve such types of issues? 

This type of thing is quite obvious to obviously Christian individuals. I won't prod any further than that.

Aside from all of this, I'd fancy this article done. Blehh. 

Saturday, April 13

A weekend of trifle, blasphemous drama - the various things of the linear mind date time and identity - to Pasadena and then out of town.

Things have been getting to have been seen as an emergent crisis beyond attestment at my home, and 


:

in leaving, there were others in various locales to consparige the debacle. 


Although seeming nothing (much) new, there was an alts-jours carnival in establishment of being set up on the foray of my turn street, at home, at Broadway at 90th - stretching to Manchester. It was an unexpected and somewhat beauteous thing to imagine that there was a carnival simply, as such - right outside my front door, just up the street; me with my pigeons carnival blog and app in development. 


I had achieved several of many things that ought have needed to have been done by now - this day being Sunday the 14th, and many of my endeavors having been disparaged of interrent, latent, or otherwise - various debacles of a less merited cause for me to have attached myself to during those times.  

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Pigeon-watching hotspots to see around town #5: The USC Dumpster Pigeons.

  This flock of pigeons hadn't always lived here, which is curious, because I could trace back to days of pigeon-feeding that I'd do...

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