None of the propositions, debates, quarrels, or fears regarding the future state of society have any meaning to people without children. It is only when you have children, or genuinely want them, that you begin to worry about things like: What school zoning am I in? What are the rules in this district? What politics dominate my country? What religion is on the rise? What is the social contract between men and women at scale, and what does that imply? What if society collapses or loses the ability to sustain life as we know it?
These are the worries of someone who has invested future flesh—future will—into this realm. Without that, you actually resemble a more literal version of the Christian who says, “I am just passing through; this is not my home.” The thing is, even the Christian is very much “at home here,” because having children ties them to the functioning of the earthly system. Their real priority becomes preserving a world that can support domestic life. (Interesting isn't it? I live more in line with "I am just passing through" than they do. They betray this. They are the most concerned with politics and human systems of continuity. My version of "I am just passing through," is literal. Yours is performative dog shit.)
The only thing that ever made reproductive investment seem appealing was the short, fleeting moment during the emotional height of being with a woman, when the hormones of the life-machine attack with full force. It creates visions that eclipse the conscious mind, where suddenly “everything is beautiful.” I learned that these visions are not real, nor true. The baseline of my existence always returned. This is nature’s mousetrap.
I accepted my life as more or less a forced-labor examination, a “may as well since I am here” sort of experience. Since I am stuck with consciousness and existence, I endured whatever suffering needed to be endured until certain layers finally released and allowed me to live in isolation the way I wanted. The depression is long over; it was only the process of accepting that the only other option available to me was full investment in a life-system I do not believe in. Once I fully saw and processed that isolation is the only alternative to primate theater, I was no longer sad about wishing some imagined ideal reality to be true. When that death was complete, the debate was over.
I see myself now as no more than a transient entity in this realm. I have no care in the world for the concept of “blood going into the future” in such a pitiful place. I would feel nothing but guilt for casting life into this world, which is why I avoided opportunities where I could have cut the top off the condom, thrown it away, ignored the cycle, and spawned offspring. "Thank God" that I was conscientious and dutiful in my pursuit of pleasures, and consciously careful enough to not recklessly cast more life into the circle.
Now I see those with permanent investments in the realm—people whose biology and emotional sense of self are completely hooked into the drama of the world. They care so much, and the squabbles of collective concern overwhelm them. If you believe that “society needs a new myth,” or that life “should be a certain way” regarding relationships, politics, or human systems, then you are automatically forced back into the loop: primate theater, tribal warfare, and outrage dramatics. Good luck. None of that is my problem anymore.
As well, whether there is an AI overlord or a “beast digital ID system,” it doesn’t matter to me. These fears only affect people whose biology is tied to the system for “permanent meaning.” I have no meaning in that regard, and it doesn’t bother me. I don’t feel any need to be permanent here. The entire human race could be enslaved to the maximum degree in fifty years by robots, and I genuinely wouldn’t be bothered by the idea. You would be, if you are invested in flesh-and-blood futures here. These are all transient forms as I see it. If you believe otherwise, your fight or disagreement isn’t with me—it’s with those who are competing for the same things you want. I will simply disappear at some point, and that is perfectly fine by me. This project is a clear bungle.
My music can exist only during my life for myself and for others who enjoy it as part of supporting my transient experience, and whatever remains afterward is not of great concern to me. It is fine enough for me that I lived, experienced, and interacted with those who were alive at the time. The desire for permanence is likely a projection of the need for status and admiration in the present, extended beyond one's death. I'm so over that, it didn't begin.
For those worried about “meaning,” let me tell you about meaning. When I went through the Christian phase growing up, I followed its logic right down to its inevitable outcome. The message was clear: “The day of the Lord is at hand, leave everything, follow me, full stop.” I realized that mainstream churches do not do this at all. I eventually ended up in an apocalyptic sub‑cult of Christianity, where we actually performed “leaving everything behind.” This is the logical end point to be deduced from the text if you actually read it.
Nietzsche was right when he said, “If the Christian dogmas of a revengeful God, universal sinfulness, election by divine grace, and the danger of eternal damnation were true, it would be a sign of weak‑mindedness and lack of character not to become a priest, apostle, or hermit and, in fear and trembling, to work solely on one's own salvation; it would be senseless to lose sight of one's eternal advantage for the sake of temporal comfort. If we may assume that these things are at any rate believed true, then the everyday Christian cuts a miserable figure; he is a man who really cannot count to three, and who precisely on account of his spiritual imbecility does not deserve to be punished so harshly as Christianity promises to punish him.” I came to the same conclusion on my own.
When I had invested my entire self into this sub‑cult, and then realized it was another trap, I experienced the rapid decompression of self‑dissolution. My tendons tightened up, my arms curled inward and became stiff, I violently shook and shivered as though freezing, my heart raced, I felt cold blood flow through my extremities seizing it still, I heard ringing in my ears, and I was waiting to see if what the cult said was true—waiting to see if God would kill me for leaving. From there, I did not grab onto a rebound religion or ideology. I sat in the void and allowed the experience to follow through to its end. Most people call the hospital or spiral into incoherent terror if it happens to them and it is labeled a "psychiatric emergency." It is in reality, a "bio-spiritual experience."
I rebuilt my worldview from first principles: I seem to exist. I have a mind. This is a world. My thoughts are inside me. Others exist. They have thoughts. This is a planet. Then goals started to emerge from my biology itself: “I want to do this because it interests me. I want to eat. I want to play. I want to do this or that.” Larger goals appeared over time, and that was “meaning” emerging from my body.
My entire system had reset naturally, but it took enduring the void and avoiding a reflexive reboot into some other “packaged form of meaning.” My ability to withstand this extreme reset of the mind was likely foreshadowed by experiencing the same “loss of all meaning” I went through as a young child: losing my family due to explosive catastrophic meltdown of its members and relationships with one another, being sent to group homes at the Children’s Aid Society in Toronto at ages eight and thirteen for 1.5 years at a time, being medicated with drugs now illegal for children because they were later found to cause fatal heart rhythms (ex: Mellaril). I had already been given a dress rehearsal for the total loss of perceived self and meaning. I recall a loss of safety and meaning in existence so profound at 8 years old, that I vomited.
Later, when this lesson appeared in the form of religion, relationships, or ideology that claimed to contain the “meaning of self,” I was able to lose all of those things and endure the void in each cycle. What I learned was that meaning emerges from the body itself if you simply take care of it, wait, and allow it to speak.
If you lose all meaning and assumed premises of structure in the mind, you will experience an assault on your senses that can make you vomit, violently shake and shiver, cycle through thoughts rapidly, and feel a sense of extreme primal fear. This is where you are most ripe for reprogramming. You have to let it pass, or else you will rebound into another ideology or religion with even more fervor than the previous one. This loss may be experienced in a number of areas, such as religious meaning, relationship meaning, or ideological/worldview meaning. I lost all of those and left the table.
Once this happens to you at any point in life, you are either destined for incoherent insanity (failure to complete the process), or permanently removed from the collective experience as a human being. If you complete the process, you become an alien for the rest of your days, never to return to the land of the living as you once knew it. Whoever is here with me, are the only people that could ever "know me."
Many morons glamorize the loss of self, or ego death. It isn't some beautiful experience you seek out to feel "the infinite." It is something that HAPPENS TO YOU, and if it does, it’s a force that sweeps you out of your life like a riptide. It is when your entire structure is removed internally, and your body reacts as though it is physically dying.