川端紅天使 の メモリログ 2.1


川端紅天使 の メモリログ 2.1 Memory Log Calibration Logs · personal memory database of subject (ID: 川端紅天使) for non-empirical persona re-evaluation via network-content repurposement and cogitation logging for purpose of quasi-reminiscence and tension dissipation.
#rebl.   #tdls.  

cog log

Sometimes, I lose control of myself and go posting stuff. 

I’ve since deleted the following content from my facebook account (which I made out of academic requirements anyway, since I deleted my previous facebook account that had ties to my past), but I thought I’d save it in my relatively unknown tumblr log for posterity. If for some reason you’re following this tumblr log, then just scroll through the wall of text, though I stilll recommend you unfollow instead as this tumblr log is basically a repository of my own thoughts anyway - a scratch pad on the net.

it’s amusing how the process of typing out your thoughts can get especially if you don’t filter them out. i mean, if you let your thoughts go unchained, then just flutter all over the place. and sometimes, they end up at the very places you’ve been running away from. there’s this psychological effect called the ironic process theory which basically says that the more you try to suppress a thought makes it more likely to show up. kinda relevant based on how messed up my thoughts became from that little excursion today. the story I’ve been suppressing is this: seven years ago, I got accepted into all the top higher learning institutions in this country, even managing to enter a “director’s list”, which comprises the top 2% of the takers for one school. in short, I was a promising student, based on my academic records back in high school and collegiate admission. that kinda fanned my arrogance, subtle as it may have been (I wasn’t outright arrogant in personality of course, but my arrogance came in the form of hubris in the way I held myself as a person relative to others). and then, the cards came crashing down - my highschool from abroad was shitty, which meant I had shitty educational foundations; my highschool “study habits” were essentially me being chained to a chair and the books by my slave driver of a mom, and since I started living on my own in a dorm back in the first year, those habits evaporated as fast as acetone on a hot plate. and thus, despite being one of the students with the highest potential, I ended up failing subjects, one at a time. and now here I am, unable to com e up with a respectable thesis topic that I’m essentially resorting to begging the government to give me one. and that leads us to my current context of this rant that I may not even post if I don’t click enter - because I had to visit the diliman area to deliver the letter, I ended up recalling just how far below I’ve fallen. I can’t even pass my subjects in this substandard institute I am in, when the exams here don’t even qualify as quizzes in my previous university. it’s bloody amusing how far I’ve metaphorically fallen, I might as well go do a physical analogy. Then again, that’ll probably be impossible to carry out, as to do so would require me jumping from planetary orbit straight into the marianas trench just to give a general idea of scale how far from grace I’ve fallen. ahahaha, maybe jumping off the fifth floor is a good enough compromise? except my current university always locks their roof access doors - they’re horrible kill joys. I don’t even know if I should post this. ah fuck this. if I curse enough, facebook will probably just delete this post and maybe even block my account. hahahaha. I’ve been running away from my past by deleting my previous facebook account, maybe I should take the opposite approach this time and taunt facebook into deleting this one for me hahahaha. fucking facebook, you fuckity fuckeroo you.ahahaha, that’s right, face book, I broke your TOS in your fucking face, ban me if you fucking can!!!

ahahaha, fucking facebook can’t fucking ban a fucking acount that’s fucking dropping the fuck-cluster bombs like it’s the fucking fourth of july in them murican’s homeland. this reminds me of a question someone asked me recently - I was asked why if I drink (alcohol, in context). I replied no, and I can’t recall if I was asked “why”, but I ended up adding/answering that I don’t have a reason to do so. That’s probably card stacking at its finest. Sure, that’s half the reason - I don’t have a reason to drink because I don’t exactly have any positive experience with it. More accurately, I’ve tasted alcohol, and what I’ve drank tastes like piss, and I don’t exactly have anyone encouraging me to drink nor any social obligation or even internal pressure to drink- I don’t have any social life, not anymore, aside from strictly “business” (academic), and video games and anime are more than enough to fill the void and keep me from going insane (not that I am even sane right now, ranting on this account knowing full well I’ll regret posting this yet I just need to do post this because I can’t handle it anymore and I might punch a wall and my fist bleed if I don’t scream it out in the internet- I mean I can go troll in 4chan if I wanted, but where’s the fun in anonimity. It’s always more interesting if people know in real life just what kind of sick bastard you are, as you can imagine them talking lowly about you behind your back. ahahaha, at least they’re talking about you that way - it’s one way to validate your existence, that you’re not a ghost that only people related to your blood care about, mostly out of obligation I guess. ahahaha, I got derailed like a terrorist planted a pillar-destorying bomb in an elevated train track terminal ahahaha. ah well). but ah well, the real reason is actually much more simple. as you can surmise from my ranting that has clearly gone out of control but I stopped caring anyway, I’m pretty much insane. Only my own repression keeps me socially functional, and since alcohol pretty much functions as a way to remove your inhibitions, a drunk me would pretty much be a massive wreck, if I don’t go amock right away anyway, which is probably more likely to happen given how I just love penting things up. it’s like shaking a soda bottle, where slowly opening the the cap to release the gas pressure is my normal way of dealing things - giving me alcohol is basically the equivalent of teleporting menthos inside, and decapitating the bottle for good measure. now that’s a scene I’d like to see

kinda reminds me of my favourite quote from the A song of Ice and Fire saga - “you know nothing”. Aye indeed, the more I learn, the more I realize I know nothing. ahaha, maybe it was best if I didn’t really know that I knew nothing

fucking facebook, they don’t delete posts when you want them to. and I can’t delete this myself, since I made this mess, so I live with it. I wonder if someone would do me the favour of reporting this post to facebook, so that they delete it for me.
then again, as if. nobody reads the drivel I shit out anyway. I’m just a speck of dust anyway.




These are from a wonderful book called The Art Of Comforting. Check it out and learn how to be better at supporting people going through difficult things.


(not that i would say the stuff on the left. but i’d probably say something useless)

Odd. For some reason i find it hard to understand why the right column is to be prefered. Maybe i’m just broken, but the right column just screams of overpatronizingness to me

(via brownmonkeytheory)

#rebl.   #entr.  

cog log

Sometimes, I wish I was ignorant, that I knew nothing of how much I knew nothing. That way, I could fool myself into thinking I knew a lot, and be more at ease as as a result. Instead, knowing I know nothing, and more importantly, knowing very well I don’t have the capacity to make up for it, nor can expect external augmentation to get around it, means that I consign myself into the abyss of unknowing, unable to crawl because the desire to escape has long been extinguished



You might remember Keigo Shinzo from this roundtable with Taiyō Matsumoto and Inio Asano which made the rounds a few weeks back; here he draws a pair of lovers fucking maniacally while Godzilla smashes their town. Note that this is *not* dōjinshi, but the artist’s contribution to a special all-Godzilla issue of the mainstream seinen magazine Big Comic Original.

(Godzilla Couple, Keigo Shinzo)

ahahaha, what….

(via deathpill)

#rebl.   #entr.  






Part 1
Part 2
Part 3 

I am just crying tears of happy joy and whispering GAIAONLINE TAKE NOTE

‘the Irish head (skull) is one of the largest in Europe’

‘Irish are broad built and large boned’

‘Irish have characteristically thick eyebrows’


guess I know what to blame my problems on

thanks genetics

but no this is a great resource totally rad check it out

This is really, really fascinating!

i’ve been waiting for this reference for a million years

I was mildly amused with this note:

 IMPORTANT: Mixed types (such as Filipinos) are not covered in these guides, SO DON’T ASK. 

haha, true, we mixed types certainly are hard to portray right, since we can pretty much range from stereotypical Malayan/Indonesian to pretty-much Caucasian and wide spectrum of inbetweens (I personally match that of the “hobo” subtype myself to, hahaha)

(via rostov-na-don)

#rebl.   #entr.