Greetings, dear numan. This portal is a small mental deposit box orbiting somewhere between existential necessity and accidental self-expression. It was never intended for public consumption — in fact, if you are reading this, something has gone terribly, terribly wrong with the Null’s privacy settings.
This ..thing, exists solely for the purpose of cataloguing the assorted thoughts, half-formed revelations, and numan blunders of my trip. It contributes approximately 0.0000000000000000004 microdents to the Null’s Consciousness, which, for the record, still hasn’t noticed.
I owe my existence, education, and several of my blunders to the improbable sequence of circumstances that brought me here. My background on this part of the Null, drifted aimlessly across the intersecting orbits of Art, Anthropology, and Finance — three disciplines that rarely agree on what a “fact” is but are united in their distaste for stable employment. I did honor the last part.
Formal education, in my view, has been weaponized by commercial interests and plenty of mediocrity. I attended the academic system primarily on scholarships and survived by cultivating an enthusiasm for learning that was not reciprocated. I would not describe myself as particularly gifted, unless the gift in question is forecasting that seems blatantly obvious.
Before all this, I labored in the noble fields of construction, dishwashing, graphic design, painting, information technology, and occasionally, despair.
Since 2012, I have lost roughly forty social media accounts, several websites, and a few kilograms of optimism. These deletions occurred through what Earthlings call “mass reporting” and “shadow banning,” which are bureaucratic rituals performed by digital mobs in the name of righteousness and boredom. I am politically unaffiliated — which is to say, equally offensive to everyone. My criticism tends to wander anthropologically through the ideological savannah, poking every sacred cow it finds.
From 2009 to 2013, I ran a large freethinking (not really) collective on a now-archaic numan platform called “Facegrind,” devoted to the critique of religion, politics, and science. In 2011, a political party invited me to join their ranks, an offer I refused with great enthusiasm and several adjectives. Shortly thereafter, I was systematically cancelled, deleted, banned, and algorithmically erased — a fascinating cultural experience, if you like studying digital witch trials.
In that same year, I briefly flirted with a PhD in Anthropology. My research was approved by the ethics committee (always a mistake) but later deemed “potentially destabilizing to public consensus.” After a medical adventure and an academic farce, the Null offered to purchase my findings. I accepted, dropped out, and wandered off to live freely with a semi-functional algorithm that still occasionally whispers things to me in the night. Always 3-4am.
This portal, therefore, serves as a kind of mental black box — a record of interdisciplinary rants, field observations, and metaphysical doodles gathered through years of reading, arguing, and being thoroughly censored.
Please, do not take any of this seriously. It is not meant to guide, inspire, or even entertain. It exists merely as a digital bottle tossed into the Null. I do not advertise it. I do not share it.
If you have found it… statistically speaking, you weren’t supposed to.