Jcyf94's Blog

“I think therefore I am.”

This is what I am eager to spend energy working on, separating facts from fiction, invisible conspiracy from delusional speculations, and manipulated fears from realistic concerns.

If I cannot rely on others for their expertise and integrity to guard the most basic safety net for life support, what else can I rely on? Who else can I believe?

If economic or even political considerations were to have trumped my life and existence, what must I do to build resistence against inner despair and outer threats, both imminent at this junction of my life?

Why is it justifiable to slowly destroying my will and mind when I have never willingly and consciously done one single thing against my conscience, ever?

I have lost basic trust in people and languages.  I now believe that people are capable of committing acts unimaginably bereft and conscienceless when properly reprogrammed.

Deception, manipulation, coercion and threats, using mass syndication, multiply the power of spoken and printed words, sounds and images that were so masterfully sculpted and layered that the aforementioned acts against humanity can be efficiently adapted and accepted as social norm.

I wish I had been able to pinpoint my weaknesses earlier in my life enough to do something about them.  I was not because of lack of efforts, but I am learning not to justify myself when facing hostile and malicious verbal attacks.  Attacks are meant to inflict damages and force submission.  I will never mistaken others’ attacks as constructive criticism.

It is too late, I am afraid.  They have already done their irreversible damages onto me long time ago.  My parents cannot save me from the wolfpacks anymore.

To exist in the midst of cold-blooded predators who take pride in their ability to maim, torture and slaughter using various means, is not an abstract concept.  It cannot be any more real and urgent than what I am facing right now.

People condemn bullying publicly but condon it privately. In a way many even encourage it. They claim it stimulates competitive spirit and enables continuous evolution by weeding out the unfit.

I had never been bullied until well into my 30’s, and have no resource for help since it has long been justified that victims are always at fault for inviting bullying. It is the norm here in Taiwan. … It is the norm in Japan, Korea, China, Latin America, Africa, Middle East and the States. I hope Europe is more sensitive to such issue, but it is in trouble because it is being bullied at this moment.

I have lost ability to trust that people have courage to guard the basic human decency with concrete action; most, especially those of profound influences to others, openly encourage bullying by their words and deeds and suppress others relentlessly when men and women with courage speak out.

I have also lost belief to non-violent resistence, seeing that, especially here in this land, submission to violence of any kind is considered a virtue and bullies, when violence of any kind is tolerated by authority figures, cannot be reasoned with or contained by external pressure. There is a reason majority of authority figures are in essense lifetime bullies.

I have learnt my lessons, perhaps too late in life to have any positive effects, and to just recover from trauma and its effects. I should be ashamed to be bullied blindsided at this age, and to let others traumatize me to such extend that might have caused irreversible damages. I might appear shameless to admit to that openly, but I have lost ability to feel shame; I need to numb my emotion any way possible to deal with physical pain.

This is the legacy of bullying and tortures. One lesson I learn is that no one can and will help and seeking help from others risks further damages. Before I was bullied, I hated bullies but trusted that people share similar contempt for such act that bullies do not last. Now, the hatred has solidified into my DNA, and the trust of people evaporates rapidly, as much as I try to hold on to it.

I do not seek your pity or sympathy. I am reaffirming my oath that I, if by slim chance that I would recover from this, will dedicate all I have left to identify, track down, study and purge those bullies and their families thoroughly from the face of the earth, and actively guard the innocents and rehabilitate bullies of all sorts from the youth. One is personal vendetta; the other is one of my life missions. One calls for blood; the other calls for complete healing

However, I am not the same naive and good-natured Julio anymore. The unrelenting Hatred has embedded deep in my soul; I doubt anyone can remove that. I have many to thank for that.

I stumbled upon the social network theme in’ 09 while started to keep my blog.  I had no background in networking or computer science, and I did not know the inherent danger in blogging or using social network.  I did them because others have adapted these sites as the new platform of communication.

At the time, I had started to withdraw myself and isolate myself from friends and acquaintences for various reasons, mainly due to the fact that I was in what I thought the low point of my life, and I thought these tools might help.

This turned out to be what now seems likely to be the key to my downward spiral into the eventual demise, as I have tried for 3+ years to hang onto whatever I can grasp to give myself a fighting chance to survive the real and existential crises.

I like to share many phenomenons I had experienced that were, simply put, figuratively and literally, shocked me into the state of atrophy, but I know that no one would believe me and take what I said seriously.  Hoping for a rational explanation for these phenomenons or giving warnings to others about absolutely unforeseeable dangers and traps , I realize now, were waste of energy and time.

I should have realize that the perception of others on what I said is more important than what really had happened.  I should have detect the danger of being perceived as mentally deranged or socially inept, thus losing any of my creditability remained.  I should, and did seek what is urgently needed, then or now, and I still cannot find it.

These are supposed to be private.  I should not let my past be known, fully realizing the potential fatal damages to my name and future prospect.  I am putting it out in the open because the damages had been done and there are people who would make sure that my reputation and future are completely and thoroughly destroyed without any chance of recovery.  I am aware who those peole are and what they are capable of.

The only thing I am capable of doing is to try to document my side of the past.  I might not stand a chance against attempts of annihilation of my life and my family’s existence.  I might perish with labels attached to me forever.  I might never be able to escape from the paralysing pain until the moment of Ultimate Escape.

I really have little to lose at this moment.  That makes me disregard any malicious words and deeds from others and abandon any concern for consequences.  This is no delusional thoughts, and someday I might or might not live to see the justice done.

I have never been arrogant, or even narciccistic, but I will get done what needs to be done, by any means necessary.  That is a long-kept oath, and I preferred to be perceived as merely a talker without ability to manifest sworn vengeance.  It suits me fine because I crave no longer approval or help, but ability to inflict as much pain and agony to those who had done the same to me, by any means necessary.

I am not whining or preaching. I am seeking help with my future at stake.

I was disgraced and wronged here.  I will fight to right the wrong here.

Revisiting Negative Nabob of Negativism, as the starting point:

Do not count on decency in men.

Do not count on kindness in men.

Do not count on charity in men.

Do not count on mercifulness in men.

I used to believe the opposite and I built my core on such belief.

Then I learnt 20 years too late that the rest has already evolved.

I am merely the product of my habitats and circumstances.

Being negative is the only way to keep my optimism alive.

I have expeienced excruciating pain for over a year and a half.

I am certain it is inflicted upon artificially but without proof.

I cannot seek help from most, knowing it is of no use.

Doctors I confided in implied that I deserve to suffer.

There are experiences that are uniquely personal.

You tried to connect the dots and make sense of them.

There are great risks by sharing them with others.

You must distinguish the facts from their implications.

I have been writing here and documenting on my own.

It allows greater buffer bwtween thoughts and expressions.

I have embarrassed myself and my family by what I wrote.

I was not seeking attentions.  I was seeking help all along.

People cannot read more than 140 characters nowaday.

I try to condense what I tried to let known with fewest words.

I can manage to seek temporary pain relief on my own.

I cannot continue to let such forces causing damages.

Whatever you think I am doing or I should be doing,

I am doing it as the very last resorts, if you believe me.

I do not deserve what I have suffered and endured.

No one deserves what I have experienced.  Never ever.

Before I am disabled, I will keep on writing and reaching.

I cherish my privacy with as much care as I cherish my life.

I have been made to publicly swallow shame so unbearable

that taking to the extreme to numb myself is not enough.

As my life was ruined here by lack of necessary caution,

I need to keep on setting the records straight to you all

If I were the only one who appears to have lost my marble,

I would resign to my inevitable mandate in silent atrophy.

I am a terrible writer and worse talker.  I do not fantasize.

I am determined to documeny publicly what need to be known.

I also just aim to regain what is taken away fro me maliciously

by enduring further pain and shame and letting the facts be known.

Have not driven a automobile for 4 1/2 years, I just suddenly realized.

Whatever the reason, I am losing more and more of my ability to mobilize myself, and it has been hijacking me to total atrophy and turning prolonged frustration to uncontrollable rage to crystal clear hatred.

I have running out of methods to untangle myself and extreme emergent measures must be taken to jump-start my ignitions of both my good ole wagon and my body/mind hybrid Self.

I have tried to force myself with internal and external stimulants, including applying self-inflicting pain by forcing myself to be reminded of my publicly persecuted defamations and privately perpetrated embarrassments in mass scale, in order to whip myself into motions to deal with these unwarranted assaults.  Those have proved to have backfired as they have turned peripheral psychological wounds into possible permanent neurological damages, to the delight of nay-sayers and oppotunists.

It is popular for some to apply shame, anger, fear and embarrasement to motivate others under their control and establish distinct hierachy of power structure.  I had applied such concepts onto myself in order to self-motivate under duress, for the purpose of my struggles is to take back the control of myself by extreme force as it was stripped away then by brute force.

I failed, but there is absolutely no room for adjustments or backing out.  I had cranked my inner drive beyond my limits and had no choice but to rely temporarily on outer stimulant to maintain what is left of my basic life functions and recover the ones in state of atrophy.  I will never acknowledge that it is my own undoing, or that it is others’ undoing.  By observing my own behaviors, one would never able to conprehend the mental activities behind years of non-action and why I must do what I do in order to really start doing something.  They call call it bullcrap and conclude that the most obvious solution is the right solution and the simplest interpretation is the accurate interpretation.

I started by randomly noted that I have not driven a car for 4 1/2 years, then I detailed part of me that no one would be interested to read about and that I should never divulge in public.  I do not know why I am doing what I am doing now, but after all the embarrassment, all the ridicules, all the unbearable mental anguish, I have given up on parts of broken pieces of my life I could never recover or regain control.  I no longer cared being exposed in public’s scrutiny.

This is FB, not a blog, and I had been buried alive here with my own words without possibility of resurrection, so I am laying everything out here without filter and with abandonment of self-restraint.  I have crossed the point of no return, so I am heading to the cliff with full speed. At least I get to present my version of truth about myself instead of being hammered continuously with libels and heresy.

There is a difference between boredom and resignation.  When bored, one seeks to be excited, amused, and entertained in order to fill the mental void with time. When resigned, one behaves similarily to that who has boredom, but with drastically different state of mind.  He is relegated to a place to escape from overcapacity of an exhausted mind which has run out of terms with the irreconcilable aspects of reality.

Each second passed feels like being slashed with a small blade, and the thousands little cuts inflicts long-lasting pain because there are better and more essential things that he wants to get done but can only watch time passing by.  That is pain cooked with an uniquely crippling sorrow, and it will not stop.

I am betting writing of such length will attract no readers.  140 words society allows no meaningless boredom and I am not a good writer.  I write to curb pain and motivate myself.  I am using my banality to conceal my life.  It serves the purpose of wanting to be let known and fearing to be let known at the same time.  When you are being disappointed long enough and frequent enough, you will feel the numbness starting to fill in you bloodstream.

This is what the past 2 hours feels like.  No whining, just hitting the keyboard in resigned numbness with couple spell of uncontrollable and painful screams out of utter desperation, then at the end, knowing I am about to meat the mental anguish that is about to hit, retreating to the temporary somatic relief under pharmaceutical shelter.

Now, analyse me. How do you prepare to use this piece of junk writing to inflict further pain and gaining more leverages.  I have not given up, but in essense, I have.  You cannot hurt me anymore than I can to myself.