Toilet Rumination #125

Toilet Ruminations has been banned from Instagram. I am going to quit Instagram. What a repressive regime Instagram is. I mean there is not even anything that bad on my blog. But I do express ideas that are countercultural. My ideas are radical. Some of them are radical. Some of them are typical and even sad. But it is my honesty that is radical. We are not allowed to be too honest in our culture. The only ones who can be too honest are the ones who can afford being too honest. I can’t afford it but I take the risk anyways. I am a writer. That is my job. So I am going to quit Instagram. Maybe I will move to Twitter. Give that a go. See how long I can freely express myself until I am banned. I have already found myself censoring myself to avoid getting banned on WordPress or other places. That is not good if a writer has to censor themselves in order to reach you. In order for you to have access to them. That means everything you read, on-line at least, is censored in some way. That is not good. Who wants to read things that are censored? That is just watered down crap. Not full honesty. Not complete artistic and intellectual freedom. So everything you read on-line lacks this complete freedom. Possibly. If you read this censored stuff all the time written by writers who are censoring themselves you become watered down. Your ideas are lesser then. Your mind is just average. Filled with censored ideas. I don’t want to do it but I do it to avoid being banned. But I have already been banned by Instagram. Guess I was not careful enough. Maybe it was my description of jacking off in my garden while watching my wife have sex with another man in our home. Maybe that did it. Or maybe it was talking about my love of prostitutes. Or maybe it was talking about how conformist our culture has become and how to attempt to exist outside of it. Maybe I am just too honest about my struggles. It sheds too much light on contemporary inner-life. That is not allowed because if we all became aware of it, talked about it, were honest about our own struggles we would do something about it and repressive institutions like Instagram would collapse. Who knows. I have no desire to be happy. I am not interested in the goal of happiness. There is nothing more conformist and normalizing than the desire to be happy. Happiness is overrated. It is not a goal that I am interested in pursuing. There are few things more pitiable than the happy writer. I am more interested in pursuing meaning. Experience. Inner experience. Sex experience. Just experience in general. It does not have to be a particular way. If I am suffering and miserable that is just as valid an experience as being happy is. I take what comes and try not to have too much judgement about it. All these idiots in pursuit of happiness and judging others who do not share the same pursuit. But it is just a pursuit leading nowhere. Even the people who judge you for not being happy are not happy. It is a front. Happiness has become the default state for denial. It is not genuine happiness. It is just a status symbol. BS. Genuine happiness is the acceptance of whatever is happening. One can be happy even when miserable if they do not judge being miserable. I’ve gone off on a tangent again. I do this when sitting on my toilet. It is only because I see through the myth of happiness, because I do not buy into that false pursuit that I have been banned from Instagram. Instagram is supposed to be a happy place. That is ok. It is a terrible platform for my authentic self-expression anyways.

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