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People don’t fake depression, they fake not being depressed.

Ich möchte mehr schreiben. Am liebsten jeden Tag. Ich möchte es mir angewöhnen und so sehr in meinen Alltag integrieren, dass ich mich nicht mehr dazu zwingen muss. Früher habe ich gerne geschrieben. Und viel. Mir Geschichten ausgedacht, meine Meinungen zu komplexten Themen ausgearbeitet indem ich längere Texte dazu geschrieben habe. Mittlerweile tue ich das nicht mehr. Ich scrolle lediglich viel länger als ich eigentlich möchte durch Soziale Medien und merke dabei wie sich meine Aufmerksamkeitsspanne immer weiter und weiter verkürzt bis ich mich auf gar nichts mehr wirklich konzentrieren kann. Das macht Spaß, aber zu viel Spaß. Es fühlt sich an wie rauchen. Ich tue es, aber ich empfinde dabei Schuld und Scham. Nicht mal anderen gegenüber, sondern mir selbst, weil ich merke, dass ich mir selbst etwas damit antue. Ich schade mir selbst, verschwende meine Zeit und trainiere mein Gehirn auf Optimisierungsziele, auf die ich es eigentlich nicht trainieren will. Dadurch geht es mir immer schlechter und schlechter, was es noch verlockender macht mich davon ab zu lenken, aber das ist ja keine Lebensperspektive. Soziale Medien machen mich unglücklich. Immerhin mache sie keinen Lungenkrebs oder so was. Aber das ist auch schon das beste, was ich darüber sagen kann. Ich liebe das Internet, von ganzem Herzen. Es ermöglicht mir eine Art von Austausch mit Menschen, denen ich im normalen Leben nie begegnet wäre, und das bereichert mich. Aber in den letzten Jahren hat es mich auch davon abgehalten mich selbst zu verwirklichen. Das liegt nicht am Internet selbst, es liegt an den komerziellen Strukturen, die dem ganzen zugrunde Liegen. Und die würde ich gerne ändern. Wenn schon nicht für die ganze Welt, dann doch zumindest für mich. Ich möchte weniger Input, den ich mir selbst besser Kuratiere, und ich möchte meinen eigenen Output anders gestalten. Nicht so pointiert und gewollt witzig oder zynisch, sondern tiefer gehend. Durchdachter. Mit mehr Mühe dabei. Nicht so schnell, nicht so vergänglich. Ich möchte längere Dinge schreiben als nur ein paar hundert Zeichen. So lange eben bis der Gedanke, den ich gerade ausdrücken möchte, auch wirklich zu Ende ausgedrückt ist. Nicht reduziert auf etwas, was in die Aufmerksamkeitsspanne von jemandem passt, der sich gar keine Zeit nehmen kann um den Gedanken auch aufzunehmen. Ich sehne mich nach einer anderen ebene des Austausches. Hoffenltich schaffe ich das. Das wäre schön. Vielleicht hilft mir das dabei mich besser zu fühlen.

There's a 50% chance we'll hit 1.5C by 2027, & the warming won't stop there, it will get worse for generations - more floods, more fires, more crop failures. Billions will die. Our civilization will not survive.

Our leaders think all this is less important than economic growth.

cryptocurrencies are this generation's scientology

I don’t know how you can believe in Jesus and still think abstinence prevents pregnancies.

The Catholic Church will not baptize a full term still born child that a mother gave birth to. Not only they won’t baptize the baby they WILL NOT allow the baby to have a funeral mass. Reasons is the baby never took a breath. Tell me how the CC believes life begins a conception.

fiction, erotic fantasy, GNU/Linux 

"You're such a good girl" she whispers, slowly stroking your hair with her hand, strong from long hacking sessions on an IBM Model M. "I knew you could do it." Your gaze wanders to your laptop screen where lines of white text scroll by at breakneck speeds. You wince. "And … y–you're sure it was OK to just format my Windows drive like that?" – "Of course," she smirks, "remember? C'mon, say it one more time." – "I– I use Arch btw"

Can one make up for missing loving experiences in childhood? (Unfinished)

God damn I really hope so. But to be honest I’m not sure about this. And even if the answer is yes one can obviously not do this on their own. Definitions of the word love vary a lot - I’m not even sure if there are two people on this planet who are using the same definition. But most definitions have in common that they are describing a relationship between two or more individuals. Using the language of describing relations between individuals for the relation to oneself is an interesting figure of speech as it implies the existence of different selves that can have a relation to one another. Yet experiencing love is something that requires other people. Loving oneself is a funny euphemism for masturbation and beautiful metaphor for self-care but it’s not the same thing as having a loving experience with other people. Also not all the experiences regarding love between two or more individuals seem to be healthy. A lack of healthy loving experiences in one’s childhood might lead people to seeking very intense but not that healthy loving experiences during their adult lives. The intensity of the loving experience appears to be independent from the quality of that experiences. So there are alarming similarities between love and addiction on a biochemical level. Where is the actual difference between being addicted to something or someone and loving something or someone outside of the social context that defines what is good and bad?

Moderation on social media

I have been on different social media sites for a while now. I have had about a dozen different Twitter profiles, even more on Mastodon, I deleted my Facebook before it was cool to delete Facebook. Even checked out a few forums on the darknet. I am a user of this product class. Yet I have never paid a singe cent for it. Mostly I even used add blockers to make my Twitter experience more pleasant. But there is a hidden cost to all of this that becomes harder to ignore.
This morning I saw my first CSAM (child sexual abuse material) on the feediverse. In a very surprising but interesting context: Someone I recently started following posted a screenshot of a newly created account on there instance with a first post that contained a picture of a barely clothed child in a very - yeah let‘s say uncomfortable position. The post with the screenshot was also mentioning the admin of that instance stating that the account had already been reported but nothing had happened and the person posting the screenshot apparently wanted to have the account removed.
I think this is a very good example for the problematic situation of moderation on social media, that simply has not been solved. On the major platforms the approach to this is a combination of machine learning filters - that ultimately lead to over-blocking and unintended censorship - and outsourcing moderation - that leads to people in poor countries getting paid and absurdly low amount of money for watching the most disturbing material online all day until they burn out, become mentally ill and either drop out of these jobs very fast or just kill themselves. This approach is elegant as it seems to work so well that the targeted user are capable of further ignoring the problems of moderation, but it is simply ethically wrong. It is exploitation of poverty in a way so wrong that comparing it to slavery seems a bit unfair towards slave owners. This is even worse.
If you haven‘t seen it go watch the documentation ‚the cleaners‘. It‘s the single best media representation of this phenomenon I have seen so far. If you use social media, you must know about this. I know this is incredibly uncomfortable to think about, but that‘s how ethics works. If it was easy to be a good human being, life would not be a challenge.
All of this breaks down to a relatively simple question that is unpleasantly economic in it‘s nature: How much are you willing to pay for the moderation of your input. Also: how much are you capable of paying for your input? If the answer is nothing (that used to be my answer to both of those questions for quite a long time) than you are paying with the lives of people who do not have a choice. Your unwillingness to pay for moderation fuels the exploitation of humans. If you are okay with that - have fun, enjoy your life, but please block me, don‘t interact with me and accept that our concepts of ethics diverge so much that I have no interest in any friendly conversation with you. Bye.
If you are willing to pay (no matter if you are able to): Welcome on board. Let‘s try to find a way to make this happen. Nice to meet you, my DM‘s are open. Please share your ideas about this with me.
The most constructive approach I have seen so far is decentralized social media. It is not a perfect solution of course - that‘s quite obvious after the initial example that I chose to open this text. It‘s a prototype. A direction to focus your thought on, not a product ready to use. But it‘s the best starting point of thinking about this problem I have come across so far.
Even if moderation on Mastodon does not work perfectly, it works amazingly well considering that it is entirely done by volunteers. Thanks a lot to all you nice admins on this network who are making this federated experience possible. I think you are giving a giant contribution to the development of human civilization and you should revive much more than just a thank you from a random dude on the internet - you should get a fair pay that enables you to pay for rent and healthcare, and you should also get supervision because that job you are doing can have very negative impacts on your mental health and you should not be left alone dealing with this. This requires a network of support that is not just financial (even though the financial part is probably even more crucial) but also emotional.
We need to figure out how to monetize Mastodon - not in order to make profit, but in order to finance moderation. Mastodon is mostly based on volunteers and donations, but that simply does not scale up. It is a very good start, but we need a solution that works for billions of users. This is not the solution we need. It‘s just a beginning. The beginning of accepting that social media moderator has to be a career path in our society, that people want to choose without being forced into it by poverty.

Does this make sense?

There are so many things that don‘t make any sense, but people do them all the time. Once I start thinking about the structures around me, I can not stop any more. I begin to notice stuff that does not seem right and realize the imperfection of anything around me. And this makes me mad. In retrospect I can not even tell when this started. At some point in my childhood I used to still trust in the structures around me. Whenever I found flaws I assumed that I must have misunderstood something. I asked about those flaw trying to understand them, trying to learn what I had missed. I grew up in the illusion that everything around me was deliberately designed my smart grown ups who knew what they where doing and had the best in mind. It had to be like this. I could not imagine a chaotic world in which humans would do things without understanding them just because they had always done them like this and I could not foresee the hatred that would occur against those who desired to question things and who asked for a inner logic of things. Hatred, exclusion and even violence. Questioning processes that are purely based on tradition without any inner logic makes those who are part of these processes so incredibly angry that many are literally willing to kill anyone who questions those processes rather then accept the idea that these processes that have become integral parts of their self perception might be flawed. It is not beyond their imagination - if it was they would simply disregard that questioning as mental nonsense, as funny, maybe even intended as jokes that are harmless and acceptable. But too often that‘s not the case. People get angry through questions that point towards a lack of inner logic. They know about the inconsistency in the processes they participate in. But not consciously. Being aware of those flaws and accepting them while being a part of the systems that contain these flaws is possible but it is depressing. It hurts. It makes people sad and dysfunctional. They can not keep doing what they do, and that will result in exclusion from the process. Often in economic risk, social distress and a massive loss of reputation that most people simply can not afford. Other needs are more important than a consistent concept of the process they participate in.
Some people are better at this than others. Some people are so good at this that they not only manage to live with these flaws but they actually like them, they feel at home and refuse the very idea that they might exist. And other people have so much pain from seeing those flaws that they are entirely unable to participate in the systems that create these flaws. I am one of those. I fail to integrate myself into systems I perceive as imperfect, my desire to find the flaws, tell others about them and correct them is so strong that I am unable to be part of any system I have not deliberately checked for flaws and mechanisms to spot and change any flaws I might have missed. And I even suffer from that. My inability to integrate myself into those processes is nothing I can endure as the desire to integrate is almost as strong as the desire to improve. Almost. And I do not know how to solve this paradox. There is no way out of this. Or rather no way in. I already am outside. I can not find any way in between. I can not accept imperfection in systems even though I want to. Desperately want to. This desire creates a lot of self hatred. It is a flaw in myself, and as I just mentioned I suck at ignoring flaws in anything, even in myself. But there is hardly any way to address this. I tried to get help with this but getting help with this requires trying to explain the flaws I see to people who are parts of the flawed systems and therefore not only unable to consciously perceive them but also get angry once I point these out these flaws tho them. That is not helpful. It makes things even worse.

Billionaires can flood your house with cis people by just threatening to buy the one next to it and I’m not okay with this.

Strawberry cake

I don’t bake. If I do I buy prepared brownies just to put some hash in them, as a way to consume drugs, not as a way to prepare food for myself. Overall my relationship to food is very functional. Baking is a process of preparing food for joy, it is not functional. It is hedonistic.

The only time in my life where I actually made a cake myself was in therapy. I hated it and I did not eat it, just left it for the other patients. Preparing food for myself is something that I do not do because I want to, but because I have to. It is a necessity because I am to poor to order stuff every day. I am not trying to say this is a good thing, not at all. My relationship to food is unhealthy. My relationship to myself is unhealthy. It is simply a result of how I grew up. I have no positive memories of preparing food at all. During all of my childhood there was no fun in cooking, and the idea of baking was absurd. Who has time for that?

My relationship to food is a symbol for the purely functional environment that formed my reality and even though I envy people who find joy in such fundamental things as baking, I do not have much hope that I ever will. It might be too late. At some point you are too old to override the lack of positive experience with something by creating more positive memories. In healthy families, cooking and baking seems to be a social event. Something people do together. A ritual that creates a feeling of belonging. A feeling I never experienced in my childhood. Maybe I did a few times in my early twenties, but in a context that I also would not consider healthy. That was while doing drugs with friends, dancing on illegal raves in strange forests in order to explore all possible states of our minds and compensate for the stress that is caused by trying to be a human being in a fucked up capitalist society that acts like it was individualistic while at the same time not giving the slightest fuck about the needs of any individuals. In those states I got a glimpse of the feeling that I think healthy people should experience in their childhood, connect with the process of baking cakes for birthdays of loved ones and then later try to recreate by making a cake that is supposed to tase exactly like the cake their grandmothers made them as a child. A goal that ultimately has to fail, so people complain that their cakes are never as good as the ones they got as children, but that does not stop them from trying again and enjoying the happy memories that come up during the process.

I just can not make myself enjoy baking, or cooking in general, even though I want to, and seeing the effort other people put into their cakes sometimes makes me sad. It makes me envy those people and envy is one of the worst feelings that humans have. Not only is it a bad feeling by itself, it is also followed by a feeling of guilt for feeling envy in the first place. While feeling it everyone knows that it is a disgusting feeling that only creates even more hatred. A feeling you should not have. A feeling that shows a bad character. Which is funny because at this point it is even to late to fundamentally change ones character. People can not chose who they become, they just are what they are, but once they are they have to take the responsibility for this product other people created and are supposed to just accept that and regulate the feelings that come up by just being who they are. All of this is so inherently unfair that complaining about it is ridiculous. There is no point in being sad about who I have become, it only creates more sadness. An unbearable circle of sadness that is hard to escape. Impossible to escape on ones own. You can not create positive memories for yourself, you can not make yourself like things you do not like even if you desperately want to.

And I would like to make myself like baking, I would like to feel joy when thinking about going to a strawberry field in the summer, picking them by hand to return home and turn them into a cake. But I cannot. This thought just sparks self hatred and envy and the desire to just fuck all of that shit and go to a bakery and pay a professional for a strawberry cake that was produced without love, without positive memories, but provides a standardized quality that requires chemicals one can not pronounce correctly to pass health regulations.

People seem to see sex work as a perversion of commodifying something that is supposed to be an act of love between healthy individuals and that seems absurd to me in a world where bakeries exist and commodify strawberry cake to exploit my inherent desire for memories of a loving childhood in order to get my money. It is the same kind of perversion, maybe even a bit more absurd since it is hidden behind layers of assumptions no one talks about whereas sex work at least is openly honest about the insufficiency of the capitalist dystopia it tries to compensate for. Thinking about cake makes me sad. And hungry.

It’s fascinating to see how different instances on Mastodon don’t federate with each other in inconsistent ways.

Can be any topic. I just want to get back into writing longer texts again and require some external motivation to do that.

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I feel it’s so much easier to find interesting people to follow from all over the world here on Mastodon than on birdsite.

Traveling is important. It’s something I need to do from time to time in order to not get mad. It’s self care. An investment in my mental health. Weird things happen to my mind when I stay in the same place for too long. I get too used to it. I forget about things that are just normal on the go. I become stupid. A mind that doesn’t get new input on a regular basis begins to close. Visiting new places keeps my mind fit. It don’t even have to be new places, places I don’t see that often also do the job.

Anyway I stuck at traveling, even though I used to travel a lot. I overpack. I suck at making plans in advance, I don’t pack food for the journey so I’m always hungry, late and carrying too much stuff when I travel. There is sooo much space for improvement given the organization of my journeys. But I still enjoy them a lot. The feeling of being on the go is relaxing. It’s just easier for me to allow myself to enjoy the moment without a feeling of guilt about all the stuff I’d still want to/ have to do.

Yeah, well, sex and being allowed to eat whatever you want and whenever you want. Those are the two main advantages of being a grown up. Everything else sucks.

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C.IM is a general, mainly English-speaking Mastodon instance.