A LESSON IN BINARY – HAPPY NEW YEARS

Here’s how my bedroom looks right now.

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My bed specifically looks like this. Not an invitation. A record. I enjoy keeping records.

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It’d have been nice to have some intelligent company, or some weed or a drink (one of those alcoholic ones) to enjoy my New Years, but I had neither. Just cigarettes. A lot of them too. The price and tax of cigarettes has gone up drastically since I started smoking, the packaging has changed too. (And the tobacco industry ADORES me for it – I assure you)

We are closer to 1984 than ever- and now we get some really pretty pictures (sarcasm, sometimes it seems I need to disclaim it when I use it) (Some people haven’t learned to give texts a tone of voice) of people suffering (my current packet of golden virginia has a baby with all sorts of strange wires and bandages fastened to it) to accompany our vices.

My only resolution is to wait to be given whats mine. Money-cash? I’m owed PLENTY of it. Apologies? I’m owed a fuck off tonne of those too. Confessions – if you value your place in this world I’d imagine you ought to confess when you apologise. If you apologise. You don’t have to, but I can promise and assure you that karma is a bitch.

Anyway. Here is a lesson in binary. I suck at maths. I had to take the GCSE TWICE. That is the mark of a true retard I tell ye wat.

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When I lived in Farnham, I occasionally liked to buy books. I had spent my life reading – so I didn’t do that much when I lived there. I’d occasionally and reluctantly flip through books to acquire quotes of entirely unnecessary validation from ‘scholars’ when I was authoring mine and other people’s essays (I was in pain, of every imaginable kind, and I needed weed.) (And you thinking you have any kind of say in what someone else thinks they do or do not need, without invitation to, is a karma you absolutely don’t fucking want in your life.)

This is one of the books that caught my eye – because it was red and blue. >> I created a pinterest << with my own scans of books. It came from being a person who had accurately  judged many a book by it’s cover. (Don’t compare yourself to me.) It also came from being in a brief relationship with someone who used to get upset, because people would reblog art that they hadn’t necessarily done – on tumblr – as a means of expressing themselves.

One time he linked me to a post of mine, on it a photograph I had taken – with a quote beneath it from this song – and said something to the effect of “why would you post that photo with a perfect Kate Bush quote?” – He admired Kate Bush because she wrote some of the most profound love songs, aged only sixteen. He didn’t know I’d taken the photograph. And I said “I took that” and he said “oh”. I deleted that tumblr so I can’t show you the entry, but maybe the photograph is still around.

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I think the quote was “tell me, we both matter don’t we?” [ref]

I took these shortly before my nineteenth birthday.

Some other photos I took of Alex this day. I could learn how to fix the perspective but why bother?

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Apparently Kate Bush choreographed this. I mean it isn’t as good as my version (which no one wants to see, but has probably seen)

Here are the other scans.

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I cut up pages from this book for an artwork I put together, an undermarked one (whats new, really) for my BA degree. You can see it here.

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The page is brown, the polaroid is negative space, the photograph is (a lot of negative space) and is also a ripped up photograph I took. The quote at the bottom was authored by Janet Sandison.

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This particular page touched me, because I have no memories, save for the last two or so years of my life, of not being catatonically depressed. And the last two years of my life I have spent in – mostly solitude. I spent my entire life feeling very alone but for the last two years – I enjoyed it. The most I got out of conversation: was being verbally abused by relatives and a lunch with someone that turned out to be a liar, repeating the same mistakes of everyone I had ever known. Not an unkindly or malicious one, but still a liar.


01/01/2019 – that’s how I used to write the date. Sometimes – I learned from a girl called Molly – no, her name was Meg – Molly was a white cat that I used to play with, that lived opposite my “dad’s” flat.  She would’ve written the date as 01 | Jan | 2019

I don’t have time to be specific about the symbol I use to divide the numbers – this already isn’t interesting to me. So, 0+1 + 0 + 1 + 2 + 1 + 9 = 5 + 9 = 14 = 1+4 = 5

So – the numbers that we are taught formulate binary theory are zero and one.

That is the notion of nothing and fullness.

0 is commonly used to represent zero commonly used to represent nothing.

When zero and one are placed side by side, they either represent 01 – one

or 10 – ten.

I enjoy numerology – I have for many years, since having met my spiritual teacher Lisa. In numerology – we believe that numbers go from 0 to 1 to 10 – there are other numbers yet but every number can be added up – no matter how many digits – to be represented by a number between 1 and 10.

So – 10 is equal to new beginnings.

Years ago my mother and I were rather made fun of, when I was ten years old, by a local village girl – because we went to one of her spiritual teachers – Barry? something or other – and he insisted that computers could not comprehend 00. And do you know – something had be believing him. I was not a gullible child, but having grown up around liars –  disingenuous people who spoke about me behind my back, people I had been taught to call family but never really spent any kind of positive time around – certainly never really trusted enough to communicate with them – I had learned to feel the difference between the truth and lies. I didn’t care for what the truth was, I constantly felt lied to. It began with, after a medical procedure that was synonymous with rape – saying to my parents “don’t TELL anyone” – and then going home to hear my autistic brother laughing that I’d had something put up my ass. And my shitty, poor excuse for a “sister” smiling and laughing along with him. (Not one of her ‘friends’ would agree that she has autism but maybe she does, I hope so) – and then I understood that my family spoke about me behind my back.

This was significant you see- there is a memory I have where I am playing with toys and I think to myself (I am about two or three) “I am the only thing that is real” – “nothing exists unless I am in the room with it”. Years later in a philosophy class I was introduced to the term ‘solipsist’ by a philosophy teacher that was literally – the biggest creep ever. He had a big, fat, red nose and ginger hair and looked a lot like that little boy that went viral because his classmates were throwing ham in his face and calling him ugly. I’d guess him to be about thirteen years old actually. (About thirteen years ago I had a pregnancy where I ate about 8 ham sandwiches in one sitting. It was deeply traumatising and no one was genuinely there for me, plenty of people knew – and enjoyed the gossip.)

So if you want to refute the idea that there could be a single solipsist, ask them to explain gossip.

So – this story takes place around December 1999, I think – when we were entering the millenium. My mother believed that computers were going to stop working and that there would be a catastrophic melt down. A girl I knew made a bet with me, she said that if the computers stopped working I would have to give her 50 pence. This story goes somewhere and it’s amusing if you’re into numerology. But lets begin here – half of 10 (new beginnings) is 5. 1 and 0 mean the same thing. Life and Death. Yin and Yang.

I recently channelled my spiritual guides – the angels Gabriel and Lucifer. Who did a very very quick maths lesson with me – and the nature of it was to prove – through art – that the symbol representing nothing – 0 – can be halved. If it is true in art, the argument was – it is true in mathematics. Which means it is true in science – which means it is true in philosophy – which means it is absolute truth.

The star of David is a mathematical formula – the idea of truth being the shape in the very middle, each of the lines that create the hexagon, is it? facing one another – are truth. Truth must be verified by every school of thought – so – this was the issue I imagine for scientists, who knew that the various religious or ‘divinely inspired’ texts ignored the laws we know at this point, to be truth – within science. (We don’t understand science at all though.)

One sec lemme upload the images – I drew straight onto paper, without thinking – kind of the way one does when they do automatic writing – kind of the way one does when they do calligraphy. Basically it begins with an artist formula – the circle and the line – and in maths these are the zero and the one. ONE SEC IT TAKES TIME I’M VERY PARTICULAR ABOUT HOW MY IMAGES LOOK. THE INTERNET STORES THIS STUFF FOREVER.

 


(explanation comes first: Someone got pedantic about the date – “what is 1 divided by 1?”
I thought.. ‘zero?’ Also I thought ‘no it’s one?’ (as a question) – but actually no, it is 1 but only conceptually – because zero and 1 are the same) (but technically it is zero) (fuck you ian) (fuck every fucking ian alive) (fuck them all) (there is no ian i don’t hate) (except for the one that plays Gandalf. I don’t hate him.) (But I did switch sides – your loyalty was to Saruman the White and your issue with the ring, that you alleviated yourself of responsibility for and literally gave it to a DWARF – was your desire for power. You fucked over Saruman – who had worked all of his lives to be Saruman the White – I MEAN HIS JUDGEMENT WASN’T NOT-SOUND WAS IT – UPTO THAT POINT)

1 DIVIDED BY 1 IS NOT FUCKING 1. MY CALCULATOR IS FUCKING WRONG.

IN THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE – TO DIVIDE IS TO SEPARATE? TO BREAK APART?

1 separated by 1 is fucking 0! WHY IS MY CALCULATOR LYING TO ME

MY LIFE IS A LIE

2 as a whole – represented by 1 –

fuck you, seriously fuck you

0.5? WHY ON FUCKING EARTH

WOULD IT BE ZERO POINT FIVE

 

ah

what we do. eghem. is shoot every mathematician alive first because they are a PLAGUE and their thoughts PLAGUE EVERYTHING

right

what symbols are used for division .|. and / and r

/ 1 split apart by 1 is – that is split – not subtracted –

MY CALCULATOR DOES DO DECIMAL POINTS YOU KNOW

could it hypothetically be 1.5?

no because that would be 6 (numerology doesn’t take symbols into account)

6 as in death (6 – in most religious practices represents death. 7 in most religious practices represents divinity)

I mean the suggestion is that we’re dividing wrong – just because you’re ‘dividing’ something doesn’t mean you’re decreasing it’s mass

I will decrease your mass

anyway so if you can’t do maths properly using the symbols zero and one, don’t bother with any other digits

my brain ^

your brain .. do you.. do you have one? technically? what do you do with it?

she asks into the ether of nothingness because she talks to no one and hates everyone


 

When you divide a single worm in two halves, it becomes 2. So

“one divided by one? …one what?” is the appropriate response to the mathematical equation

(maybe it is 3)

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This is a photograph taken – >> not by me, but by someone I found on google, sort of << using a kirlian camera. Kirlian cameras are great, they photograph auric fields. that is, the energy waves around both: organisms and objects. When you amputate a limb, it leaves an auric residue for quite some time. That means that the appendage or ligament or whatever – that is amputated and removed – won’t necessarily show up (unless you place it, I suppose, beside the body it was attached to) but it would show as being attached to the body it had been amputated from on a kirlian camera.

I recall reading somewhere on tumblr that this kind of knowledge – you know, that of the occult, spirituality whathaveyou – would not have continued to exist until today, unless it had actually been useful. Worth keeping around.

I once signed a petition, to legalise euthanasia in the United Kingdom. I was motivated by having known of a person who was suffering with muscular dystrophy, and who had suffered throughout his entire life. He was stalked by police when he was trying to have fun riding his wheelchair down a road (what guy doesn’t want to drive down a road at least once in his life? honestly?), he has to be helped to use the toilet, helped to masturbate – I assume. He has had no privacy throughout his entire life. He had to be fed – on one occasion – by his mother – with a spoon. In his mid twenties. aaaah I want to cry writing it. I empathise to that degree. That is my real nature. I didn’t cry, but I felt to. That is also my real nature. Rising above the performance that is tears. Little actually brings me to tears. At this point in my life anyway.

The response, to me, was that the issue that this official had with Euthanasia, and I could not refute it – was that sometimes people’s families want them to be euthanised. For all sorts of reasons. And that can call into question their motivations – that is the person wanting to be euthanised’s motivations, and their families motivations also.

There are some kinds of evil that I can’t comprehend – they are so far out of my line of thoughts. My depth for feeling is beyond anyone’s I’ve ever met but you’d believe me if I told you I was a sociopath if you didn’t know what I’d experienced. And for whatever you might have seen, a lot was not seen – at all.

I was not enraged by the idea of his choosing to disagree with legalising Euthanasia. But there are alternatives – the Illuminati can arrange for people’s consciousnesses to be transferred. I have further issues with this – the body has a consciousness of it’s own. You have thoughts, you have a spirit (MANY spirits, if you eat meat or have ever witnessed a death) – don’t shit on my beliefs, it comes back on you. I could be moved into another body if I wanted to be, and no one could blame me – but there are lots of children that hang around me who are bored by their parents who aren’t intelligent enough to understand them. There are children who think of me when they use the toilet, because they know I wouldn’t laugh at them for needing to use the toilet. There are children who probably watched Legend of Korra and are disappointed because I can’t do any of that stuff – yet. But I can imagine it. There are children who get bullied and their parents might never have been bullied, so they don’t know how to stick up for themselves. There are children who have done some hella shitty things and who probably find comfort in the fact that the only person who has probably done more embarrassing things than they ever have is me.

There are other factors – my teacher Lisa taught me that sometimes, disabilities are a karmic lesson. Sometimes you are forced into a body that teaches you something. Sometimes, people run from their mistakes – she knew I might want to kill myself at points in my life and there was no sympathy on her end, towards the fact. She said “if you kill yourself, your next life will be three times worse than this one.” It was simple and concise – and it saved me. My “karma” ended in my flat, but people continued to abuse me and create new karma. These were people I was not abusing back. (Actually I stored up a lot of responses to abuse for a later date. Monopoly taught me to store up ‘get out of jail free card’s.)

I believe that everything you suffer with can be overcome if you choose to focus on that somehow. I practice Art of Manifestation. I wanted the truth of my life. I got it.

Believe me or don’t – I had a miscarriage so traumatising that I felt my heart palpitate and then abruptly stop beating. There was no fanfare and no drama, I knew I had died. Imagine adrenaline pumping through your body the way it does after a run, and then a hand reaching into your heart and stopping it, and then starting it again. But at that point, that miscarriage, I sold my body to Lucifer. Not my soul. My motivation was revenge.

I don’t lie. I make mistakes, but I do not lie. I spent months in Copenhagen visualising a form that looked like Ralph Fiennes in an angelic courtcase, the same image over and over and over.

Eventually it became the angel Lucifer (tall, blonde, long haired, identical to many of the other angels -_-) and a child version of me going to Heaven, me getting angry with God and being sent back to Earth again.

My family thought I was a zombie/robot – I was depressed. From infancy. I was also in pure agony, from infancy. My family thought I was stupid – I didn’t want to talk to liars and I hadn’t looked in the mirror much cos I didn’t like how I looked. The only time I remember being called ‘pretty’ as a child, I was then told off seconds later and I absolutely hated compliments after that.

I think of all the people in psychiatric wards, and prisons – some of them at the very least – people who have been abused by their families and friends and society and who were not as fortunate as I have been to rise above that …to some extent. Some of them spiritual masters, like me, who were misunderstood or mistreated because of the jealousy they inspired in others. Or because people were trying to hide something that they had done.

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