This latest endeavour with the cliche name is selfish act of mine to add to my digital epitaph. These entries are taken from a small pile of composition notebooks dating from 2008-2011. Most of these ideas were the foundation of construxnunchux to be used as a digital diary for Ian and I. I am going to transcribe some of the scribblings inside of these notebooks to share with you all. My goal always is to entertain but also to add to the deeply personal nature of this website.  Enjoy.




[editorial note: this was probably just a justification of me blaming my parents for me turning out like a shitty person]

Why parents are responsible.

They get to influence you from day one. They mold your perceptions. They sculpt your fears. They tell you about the world - they are infallible.

For years they are who every man and woman in the world are. An endless assembly line of imperfect authoritarians. They make the rules, and they establish right and wrong.  They give you their limitations. They strain you with their hopes and dreams. You are the alpha and they are the omega.

Why blame them for your shortcomings? It could be science, but its all the fingerprint on your brain. Try and fight it but you are hard-wired for it. From day one that's all you know - its an undeniable fact.

When you overeat it was because food was used as a celebration ritual. It makes you feel happy.

When you abuse yourself, its just that nagging sense of worthlessness.

When you give up on something, its because you never knew how to succeed.


[editorial note: this next section gets pretty heavy and deals with suicidal thoughts - if this makes you uncomfortable please do not continue]


Think of the freedom you have when you decide that you are going to kill yourself. No more worrying about money, no fear of rejection, confrontation, truth, ... no more fear of death.

You can stare anyone in the eye and feel pity for the long beaten path they have yet to travel. They can feel the burdens of love - not you.

You are free. All the pressure in your head, gone. All the pain in your chest, gone. I would imagine its like floating in water. Weightless. Mute. Nothingness. Void of all stimulation.  Absence of light. Just Nothing.

I wonder if you keep all the music stored in your head?

I think that's why Buddhist believe that death is an undeniable truth. Not to fear it, but accept it. That way you fear nothing, and your worries are all gone. If you die now, will it be more sad that if you die in 10 years? Sometimes people only appreciate the person you could have become before you died.

It scares me to write this.