I’ve noticed personally just how different my mind works when I am constantly presented with data for my actions. Even though these random data points have no real affect on my life, I’m still drawn to having those numbers be bigger than before. From the votes I receive from a social media comment to the reactions from a meme posted in a discord server, all I want is more attention through a click of a button from someone else’s screen.

I hate it. It feels like my value is placed into a number. For me, I prefer my value to come from how I treat other people. I feel a far greater sense of self when I am able to put my time and effort into helping other people. I get to learn the inner workings of someone else and teach them to empower themselves. It feels rewarding when later on those people I helped express their gratitute and trust in me. That is far more rewarding compared to the quick hit from any brain chemistry when looking at a bunch of data points or a bunch of money.

Unfortunately, I can’t make money this way. Not in the way I want to learn, teach and empower other people. I’m terrified of going into a career that will destroy my innate desire to help others. I know it’ll wreck me in the process. Again.

Capitalism destroys everything it touches by sucking all the life, creativity and humanity out of it until there’s a empty shell left behind. An empty shell that looks like every other empty shell. All those empty shells can be counted, given a value and sold. Reducing us and the human experience to yet another data point.

I truly hope more people come to understand that these data points don’t have to put us in a competitions with each other. That our value as people can come from places that don’t have/need to be from a number value.

One day, our planet will die. One day the last historian will die and all that data and preserved knowledge will sit and decay. It’s human knowledge and it’s meaning has more value to humans than any other living creature on our planet.

Personally, I’d rather live a life where my actions are responsible for the wellbeing of myself, my community and the land under my feet. It doesn’t matter to me anymore if my value can’t be reduced to a number.

I have the ability to make others feel safe and comfortable to be their themselves. It’s always a shock to me how comfortable some people get around me. I’m still waiting for someone to make me feel the same way.

I generally lurk more than I post content or comment because I naturally tire from the vast majority of online and offline interactions with people. The exception being those people who share the same autism/adhd based experiences and perspectives that I do.

When I interact with fascists online, I already know it’s a dead end to the conversation before it starts. That’s why I begin an interaction with a fascist with the mindset of it being a chance for me to learn and understand their mindset instead of trying to change a person. I also have a 3 comment limit with a rough plan on how my comments will be used during this interaction.

The first comment generally asks to clarify a specific point that they are making. The second comment depends on the response I get but usually ends up with me pointing out a flaw or contradiction from the fascist. The third is a closing thought and a reminder of how they failed to have a clear and understandable argument to continue the conversation.

I have a very broad and hard to explain understanding of how hate and emotions work. This comes from experiences and observations from my life. So this comment format sort of plays out predictably when the fascist inevitably responds after my final comment. That’s where I find the most insight into their thoughts. That’s where I find that missing bit of information that makes it click for me.

I rarely engage them unless they spark a morbid curiosity in me. It’s better that way since it’s much easier and mentally healthier to just let them pass by my screen than to weigh down my thoughts with pure negativity.

It brings me some comfort seeing how clear and easy to understand language is being used against these angry people.

They are being forced to explain their behaviour instead of arguing the specifics of words. It’s subtle but effective in my opion.

I am really enjoying this.

I’ve been enjoying the use or weird lately. I’ve had some strong personal opinions on language lately. A lot of it comes with a huge increase of new words that sort of seem abstract from it’s meaning.

I think with how rapid information can spread to large groups of people, it’s just too fast for my mind to keep up. All of a sudden I feel like I’m in a war with words and who knows which landmine of a word will get you in trouble. It causes me even more anxiety when someone comes at you with manipulative intentions in order to control the direction of the discussion.

I think weird works because it’s an almost basic word. It’s simple and descriptive. It’s not a newer, more specific word that requires a deeper understanding of a broader topic. It’s understood by more people. People with varying degrees of language knowledge including people whose native language is not English. It’s easier for more people to understand.

It’s a lot easier to understand someone is weird compared to someone being a fascist.

This feels like satire? A site called real men, real style with an article about penises?

I’ve noticed this year just how quiet it’s been. I used to get woken up by all the bird calls, especially in the spring time. Now it’s just low level background noise.

The dull and distant bird calls feels so empty, especially since it’s been replaced by the continuous hum of air conditioning units and lawn mowers, the violent sounds of vehicle engines with the low rumble of rubber tires and other sources of human activity which never seems to end.

It absolutely breaks my heart.

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As with many travelers in Australia, we both had work/holiday visa’s that allowed us to stay in Australia for 1-2 years. This wonderful comment was thrown at me within the first week of arriving at a hostel in Sydney.

Fortunately they left a month or two later but I still avoided them when they did still live there.

Amazing. Layers of ignorance for an already dumb thing to say.

I’m a person of colour who has a white step parent and has grown up in Canada in a fairly mixed area.

My family history would have started in India but my parents were born in South America and migrated up to North America (both Canada and the US) where my sister and I were born. I grew up “white.” My voice, appearance and behaviour are “white.” I was born and raised Canadian. I’m far from proud of this country where I have spent my life but I will identify myself as a Canadian. My family history had been thoroughly white washed and erased.

I say all this because for all this history I have behind me, it means nothing to most people.

The majority of Indian people here will look at me one way until I speak and then promptly ignore me because I’m not “Indian.”

West Indian people want to be my best friend until they find out I’ve never visited any West Indian country. Then I’ll be treated as an idiot for not embracing a culture I have no real knowledge of and have not been immersed in.

Then there are the white people… No matter how white I act, I will never be “white” enough. I’ll always be the colour of my skin. I could look, act and behave as awful as a white cop and still not be on the same level.

In fact, I have a “friend” who is a cop. He’s not really my friend, more of an acquaintance I’ve known for 10+ years through another more decent friend. This guy is just fucking awful and every molecule in his body is racist and vile. He looks at me, arms full of tattoos and tells me I’d be a perfect “UC.” Undercover Cop. My only value to him is to be used to incriminate fellow people of colour. I’m just not a person or anything close to equal. Always something less.

I’ve never really had a place where I felt I belonged while growing up. Hated for being me from multiple angles for reasons beyond my control while doing nothing harmful to anyone. There are good people out there who treat me as a person first but they are few and far between.

Another quick story, I once had a Dutch guy in Australia tell me that his last name Hoffmeister means “House Master.” You know, from the times when they used to own slaves. Thanks for telling me that to my face, you absolute weirdo.

A long time ago I came across a game that was part of a 1mb challenge. It’s called A New Zero. I played it quite a lot, just flying around and dive bombing boats was entertaining enough for me.

I was impressed with 1mb but 13kb and 96kb is pretty amazing. I really enjoy seeing stuff like this.

I’ve had stocks in a couple forms over my lifetime and after a while, both times I have pulled all my money out.

The first time was shortly after the 2008 crash. All those reassuring words my investing manager person told me were simply sweet nothings. I decided that taking the hit of losing half my money was a life lesson and used the remaining half to go travel and live a life for myself. That investing manager later went on to have a covid party out of defiance for masking requirements, caught covid and died. Felt good knowing my stranger-danger alarms were working even if I didn’t understand my decisions fully at the time.

The second time I simply put my money into a low risk, government stock option for a few years. After watching global leaders fumble the handling of a global pandemic, I lost faith my own government to have my best interest in mind. I pulled my money out again.

I personally feel super uncomfortable allowing other people to make money off my money that I am risking. Even if it is low risk. It make me feel exploited.

Ultimately, I decided I don’t need my money to work for me because I don’t even want to work. I hate the concept of money. To me, money just disconnects us from community and nature.

If you are curious to how I live, it’s with very little. I spent a number of years of my life living out of a 34 liter sized backpack. Living minimally while making sure what I owned had meaning, purpose or intention transfered over to when I finally started settling into a certain location.

I wouldn’t mind if societies also made some compromises for me too. Currently it feels like I’m making all the compromises to fit in but made to feel like it’s never enough.

Feels like I’m trying to fix an awful relationship by doing all the hard work myself. I’m tired.

I’ve had the opportunity to live in Australia and had a chance to learn of the indigenous people there. Their stories and history. I made an effort to learn a bit more about how life was like before colonialists. Or at least what we were able to learn about life before colonialism as a lot of that information is filtered through colonialist eyes.

When I returned home to Canada, I was able to unpack all that I learned from the treatment of Australian indigenous people and apply that perspective to the Canadian Indigenous people. Honouring the land doesn’t simply mean how we treat our food or living sustainably. It includes the nature bound history and stories that communities have created and shared as it moved forward in history. A story of a volcano that was so destructive could live on for many human generations to come as it becomes a crucial story of the peoples that lived in that area. Breaking away from modern perspectives on human histories is difficult because there’s so much nuance that never gets recorded.

I don’t know how fair it is to compare pre-colonialist indigenous people’s behaviour to post colonialism. There are a lot of factors and skewed perspectives that need to be understood before I could talk more on that. From what I have learned, I also don’t think it’s fair to judge indigenous people’s behaviours to new technologies that was introduced after the arrival of Europeans. I feel it’s somewhere on the level of blaming children for the problems of today when it’s always been the adults who exploited and crafted everything there is today. I don’t believe the indigenous people’s ignorance to their own genocide should be their blame. This is just my perspective on things and I still have lots to learn regarding indigenous people and their history. I can always be wrong.

I also feel you quoted me unfairly. Later in that same paragraph I try to express that pre-colonialist life would not be easy, that it would be short and harsher and full of it’s own unique challenges. I’d prefer a short and intense life with daily struggles compared to a long, drawn out existence maintaining complex machines and worrying about the future. But that’s just me.

I remember when cottagecore first came into my worldview. By this time, it seemed to have already been an established aesthetic.

It gave off the same vibes as minimalism to me. A white washed, mass marketed solution for a busy world wanting simplicity. Commodified to show how simple a person can be. Another form of perversion and exploitation of simplicity by capitalism. Just like anything capitalism touches, it sucked every bit of meaning, soul and passion out of the concept of simplicity to sell more soulless junk.

I do agree that behind the aesthetics is a real yearning for simplicity. Technology is abstract and complex. For every bit of technology we add in our lives, it’s yet another layer of abstraction and complexity ontop countless more layers of abstraction and complexity. To me it feels like I am maintaining maintenance for abstract and complex ideas that I barely understand.

If this sounds like the ramblings of a crazy person talking in circles then you are beginning to understand why I feel so insane. I hate it.

I often fantasize about what life would have been like as a pre-colonialist indigenous person. Living in a way that honoured nature instead of controlling it. Observing and learning from nature. A closer connection to plants, animals and everything that lives. I don’t mean to romanticize this way of life. It has it’s challenges and limitations. It would be a harsher and possibly shorter life. I would give up all the modern technology for fewer simple tools, a smaller local community and a closer connection to the land and the life it offers. I want my story of a short, intense and meaningful life to shown on my skin through the scars and tattoos I have collected throughout it.

I feel both minimalism and cottagecore both offer modern approaches to simplicity and fail to properly address the disconnect between modern living and nature. Even before being perverted by capitalism. I’d prefer moving forward a combination of modern understanding and indigenous land practices. Reconnecting with community and nature.

I want people to feel joy the same joy I felt after I created a healthy, living pile of soil for my veggies to grow in. I’ve felt more satisfaction from that than fron any object I’ve ever bought.

It’s much easier to understand that shorter, milder winters means you can make people be even more productive. Now winter can’t slow down that road widening project.

Who care about consumer spending when I’ve been watching the current biosphere die off for my whole adult life?

I’m supposed to save for a future in a society that’s pretty obviously collapsing as the biosphere deteriorates?

The only type of news I consistently paid attention to over my teenage and adult life was environmental news. These two questions strongly inspired me to do something in my life for myself instead of blindly following in other people’s footsteps.

When I was in my mid 20’s, I abandoned the idea of retirement. Took all my money out of stocks and retirement plans. Sold or donated the majority of what I owned and went off to explore and have experiences. I don’t regret it but I’m still filled with so much sadness with how much damage and loss is happening all around us.

In my mid 20’s, I blindly predicted that ecological collapse would happen when I would be in my 80’s. That number has been dropping rapidly with more news coming out about the current state of the environment. Everything is casually happening faster than expected.

No car.

I’m “content” where I am now. I understand you want to help in some way but sometimes listening to someone vent helps more than any advice anyone can give.

People like to talk. People like being heard. People like being understood. Being too proactive can easily get in the way of listening sometimes.

I need to be involved locally and physically. My ADHD and impatience with the increasingly complicated technology we use today just doesn’t vibe together anymore. A brutal lesson I learned after my trade school courses I was attending went to an online format.

Lemmy’s userbase is just too small and my physical location is a bit too remote to organize anything. I have an alternate lemmy account at another server where I can connect with like-minded people online but that’s as much as I can get out of Lemmy until it’s userbase becomes significant.

I still search for events happening it the big city but time and distance is a factor I have to take in to consideration.