Affirm: I am blessed beyond measures. I am blessed for any hardship because God is forcing me to grow, both mentally and spiritually, he is stretching and pruning my soul so I am mature enough to deal with blessings
Most genuinely talented people i have ever known share the same pathetic affliction, this whingeing reluctance to use what they have dressed up as decency. they tuck their abilities away in some grubby mental corner and convince themselves this is some kind of noble self restraint, when in reality it is plain gutless flinching. ive watched brilliant people rot for years because they were too cowardly to admit they were brilliant, and too comfortable in some small, squalid version of themselves they assembled out of other peoples opinions. your talent is not yours to bury. you didn't earn it and you don't get to decide it should be still. either it gets used or it eats you from the inside. there is no happy middle ground where a talented person sits on what they have and lives to any fucking satisfaction, ive never met one who pulled it off
I’m prolly more than likely going to have to (want to)
my body is made for war and craves the wear and tear on my mind body and soul
use it or lose it 😹‼️
Not only do we not live in cyberpunk, but cyberpunk will never happen for the exact reason it's such an alluring setting: The downtrodden underclass are never going to become super high agency computer wiz genius street samurai warriors, hacking into corpo supercomputers and committing acts of terrorism against THE MAN. They're actually just going to be fat degen gooners and addicts, outsourcing all cognitive function (and gambling action) to machines, eating kool-aid pineapple and sharing AI videos of African kids doing autobody work with brick and mortar. "Oh my God, can you believe this!?” And they'll drink fabric dye elixirs because their penis doesn't work, and shop at Walmart and traffic in novel hybrids of conspiracy theory on the techno-occult app.
The great conceit of cyberpunk is that it assumes most people are transhumanists at heart. That they're incredibly savvy and talented, and they'd all do so well if THE MAN just got out of their way and let them upgrade. As it turns out, people can't even handle the internet. They could barely handle the television. The camera has stricken them in hypnosis, reorienting their gaze to see things for it rather than themselves. Ubiquitous access to food has destroyed their bodies. All communication now routed through a sensory deprivation box, and suddenly they want to end their life. There will be no laser katanas.
The pioneering writers of the genre always assumed, like many people still do today, that technological pessimism relies on a corrupted design. There was nothing essential about it. The revealed dilemma is that man interacting with highly optimized systems doesn't need to be coerced into dysfunction much at all. We can do bad all by ourselves. You merely have to leave too much kibble in the bowl.
I am a sinner. I haven’t always made good decisions. Yet God still chose to bless me.
“Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.”
My own cup overflows with blessings.
Thank you, Lord.