When I cannot commit suicide, I feel the urge to do so, because I am a prisoner; but when I become capable of committing suicide, the desire to do so fades, because I am then free to do it.
When I cannot commit suicide, I feel the urge to do so, because I am a prisoner; but when I become capable of committing suicide, the desire to do so fades, because I am then free to do it.
― Atrona Grizel
People think that
because I constantly criticize humanity, I dislike humans. In fact, I love
them—but humans are rare; most are thorny weeds disguised as humans.
― Atrona Grizel
The source of creativity is not knowing.
― Atrona Grizel
Everything
presented as “service to the homeland” is, at its core, the act of stoking the
fires of hell.
― Atrona
Grizel
I spend the
entire day reading books, and yet no one emerges who wonders about me, who
says, “this person has built his own world, a rich-souled individual.” Because,
frankly, no one around me possesses the eyes to see such a soul. All they see
is, “that’s just how he is.” For I still live within a reactionary,
conservative society that believes everyday life is shaped by extraordinary,
“supernatural” beings. In such a society, the mere existence of people becomes,
for me, a source of cancer—because they themselves are the cancer. If I am the victim
of anything, it is only ignorance, and the summary of my entire life is to
flail endlessly in this swamp into which I have been thrown at birth.
― Atrona
Grizel
I want to go outside
only to obtain “supplies.” There is no entertainment, because my entertainment
is already to lock myself in my room all day, writing, bending reality as I
wish, becoming my own god. If great minds spent their time in bars and parties,
they would gain social acceptance, but they would also lose their greatness as
if that were the price, because such types rarely waste their lives in such
vulgar places.
― Atrona
Grizel
My solitude is, of course, full, because it carries my identity. The more I withdraw from my external life, the closer I approach myself, and I realize that my life is actually here. Solitude, for me, is not a state or a threshold, not a temporary triviality that others occasionally endure during bad periods and then overcome. It is my kingdom, and within the walls of this kingdom, I am willing to be imprisoned.
― Atrona
Grizel
I cannot express
my thoughts in a place like school, because when I say that society is a
machine that prevents thought by imposing constant movement and noise, or that
the universe will halt its irreversible expansion and begin to shrink, turning
everything that once existed into nothingness, and so on—behind me, on the
classroom bulletin board, hang empty, clichéd optimistic slogans like “follow
your goals,” “turn your dreams into reality,” “never give up,” “you can do it.”
This already reveals what that environment is for and what kinds of creatures
it is filled with, because the mere presence of such a board, and the fact that
no one objects to it, shows that no one there can understand even a fragment of
what I am saying. Their minds have been careerized; this kind of monkey
collective can only comprehend civilizational decay or cosmic pessimism through
the fetish of “success” and “progress.”
― Atrona
Grizel
Biology does not
reward those who create original philosophy, write emotional poetry, or
construct complex theorems; it rewards those who are accepted in social groups,
have regular sex and reproduce, and spend an entire lifetime chasing momentary
pleasures and empty entertainment.
― Atrona
Grizel
When someone says
“your dreams can come true if you have the courage to pursue them,” it is
obvious what they mean by “dreams”: entirely practical, concrete things like
getting a job, buying a house and a car. I have not a single dream of that
kind, and although in childhood, due to cultural pressure, I was forced to
imagine such things to some extent, I never grounded my identity in them, and
therefore I never actually possessed the kind of “dreams” society calls dreams.
What did I imagine instead? Flying fish, swimming dogs, walking trees, talking
plants, a sky that changes color every day, and a chaotic solar system in which
planets constantly change places and orbits yet never shatter or disappear. No
matter how much I “chase my dreams,” it is obvious these will not happen in the
physical world, because genuine imagination lies beyond “realizability.”
― Atrona Grizel
A person who is
ignorant at the age of twenty can reach their seventies in that same state, and
moreover maintain a wide social circle throughout their life. This demonstrates
that ignorance is not recognized as ignorance by society and therefore is not intervened
against—or, even if intervention occurs, it fails to change anything. This is
merely proof of society’s own ignorance.
― Atrona
Grizel
Everyone debates
how exclusion can be managed, yet no one reflects on why exclusion exists in
the first place. The answers given are invariably unsatisfying psychiatric
jargon, typically terms like “lack of social skills.” What they fail to notice
is the deeper sociological order underlying exclusion. How do humans move in
social groups? As the effect of a primal, inherited genetic pattern dating back
millennia, by instinctively excluding others. Humans evolved to form
coalitions, and coalitions necessarily require a certain sense of xenophobia,
because belonging to a group requires prejudice against those who do not
belong, and every friendship or partnership is, in essence, an inwardly closed
world woven against the outside. Thus, excluding people who do not matter to
them becomes as easy as discarding objects, because they simply do not need
those people. No one notices their own hypocrisy: they exclude the person with
“poor social skills,” yet if the people they are connected to—those with
so-called “excellent social skills”—were suddenly to become “inept,” they would
exclude them as well. All forms of emotional attachment are conditional.
Indeed, every conflict in relationships is rooted in this infantile impulse:
the desire to satisfy one’s own needs. In relationships, people may appear to
care about the other, but in truth they come together to satisfy their own
needs, not to satisfy each other’s. Because they meet their needs by exploiting
one another, an atmosphere of “mutual aid” emerges, which is deceptive. Even
those who care for people who are mentally or physically disabled—those who are
“socially dead”—and who remain attached to them, loving and respecting them,
are, in essence, captives of a deeper desire and need. They are reluctant to
acknowledge this, because it is impossible for a person to think of another
more than of themselves. If humans were not egoistic, they would not exist;
they would go extinct as a species. At its core, every relationship is based on
expectations, and this is the root of all arguments. Those who fail to meet
those expectations are simply expelled, because people will not bother with
someone who does not quickly and easily satisfy their needs when they already
have many others at hand. As sociability increases, respect for individuals
decreases, because individuals become replaceable. This merely reveals the
sickness of the social world, and that exclusion is almost always a response
produced by herd-minded primates. Ordinary collective communities therefore
require detachment and alienation, not attachment or closeness, in order to
sustain themselves. A society dominated by an atmosphere of mutual aid and
brotherhood would collapse, because it would require individuals to be
recognized as individuals—and mass society is fundamentally irreconcilable with
this. Unusual communities in which individuals are genuinely recognized and cherished
do exist, but, as the name implies, these communities are exceptional. They do
not encompass popular culture. The vast majority of people in any given
society—say, nine out of ten people—are socioculturally adapted creatures, and
therefore they will continue to enact the instinct to discriminate against
others, even after centuries have passed. It has always been this way
throughout history. It was the same millennia ago. It will be the same in the
future. Because the ordinary human, mass-produced by nature in endless
succession, will never come to an end unless technology finally rewrites human
evolution rather than being rewritten by it.
― Atrona
Grizel
The derealization
I experience is not pathological but strategic. If I fully felt and perceived
such a dead society and such a diseased world as entirely real, I would have
gone insane long ago. Nothing becomes real automatically unless I myself grant
it that ontological privilege. With the ancient world weariness within me, this
is the only way I can manage my torment: by pushing the world behind a veil of
fog.
― Atrona
Grizel
If they were to
hurl me into the void of space and I somehow did not die, all my troubles could
disappear—because every one of them is human-related.
― Atrona
Grizel
Humans create
visual pollution. They are everywhere. How could I not look at them? I am
forced to see those stains that deface the whole beautiful picture. It is such
a thing that, whenever I am in any crowded place, I feel my stomach turn, as if
I am about to vomit—almost reflexively. Shyness? No. Worry? No. An absolute
metaphysical disgust. You cannot find anyone who cares about “ontological
hygiene” as much as I do.
― Atrona
Grizel
Society is built
upon small lies—lies so minute that they appear almost natural. A simple
example: instead of telling someone that their haircut looks ugly, one says the
barber was a bit incompetent. Or, while waiting at a bus stop, one asks the
person standing nearby about the “weather,” pretending to converse merely to
appear “gentle,” while in truth thinking only of boarding the vehicle and
leaving. Or, instead of saying, “I am tired of this and want to leave,” one
invents an errand and escapes from the context in a “polite” manner. The same
structure repeats everywhere. One says “I’m fine” when one is not, because
truth would rupture the social surface and superficial bonding. One praises a
mediocre idea in a meeting to avoid appearing hostile, even vocally endorsing
it everywhere, while internally dismissing it. One laughs at remarks that are
not amusing, simply to maintain “cohesion.” One says, “We should meet
sometime,” with no desire to do so, but only to be seen as “caring.” One nods
and mimics listening while the mind is elsewhere. One says, “It’s not a big
deal,” when it is, to avoid the burden of articulation. Hundreds of examples
could be given, as the mainstream social world is full of them, but there is no
need to extend this unnecessarily. This context resembles a costume party, and
I am always wholly myself, even if masked. There is no person and no place
where I act as if I were someone else, because I am incapable of doing so.
Lying is not even possible for me; only withholding reality is.
― Atrona
Grizel
People who do not
believe in religions may feel repulsed when they see religious programs, clips,
or recordings and may want to rid themselves of them, yet they rarely display
the same reaction toward things like advertisements, films, or institutions.
For example, even if they are atheists and dislike visiting religious places
because they perceive them negatively, they still maintain their faith in
career, still bind their identities to their “professional achievements.” Many
people labeled as “great minds” and “questioners” are in fact
academicized—institutionalized—people, and among them are specialists from
every field, from history to astronomy, and from sociology to cosmology.
Because they continue to believe in humanity. They are people within society
but outside religion. In this case, their religion is civilization itself,
because those who see religious mechanisms as “indoctrination” regard the fact
that society does the same things merely through different channels as
“natural.” Whereas, just as one can say, “I do not believe in religions,” one
should also be able to say, “I do not believe in societies.”
― Atrona
Grizel
People who think
I am “clean” from the outside, who believe they truly understand me, who admire
my thoughts and find my emotions deep—if they knew what kind of foul-mouthed
being exists inside me, they would probably be surprised. Because I do not only
swear verbally; I swear as much as I want inside. When I see a new face, since
the person behind it is almost always the same, my first reaction is an
internal curse—imagining doing shameful things to their body and dragging them
through the streets to humiliate them. I curse their voice. I curse their
facial shape. Their walk. Their clothes. Everything. Because there is no
consciousness in any of it, and that consciousness will not come either. There
could have been better humans within their bodies, but instead such creatures
came to inhabit those bodies, and in this way they have come to occupy the
place of that superior human. And knowing this, without anger, almost coldly
mockingly, what else is there for me to do but swear to them?
― Atrona
Grizel
If something alienates the majority, then there is something in that thing. That thing exists. It is only that thing that exists.
― Atrona
Grizel