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I'll be honest and say that I don't know who I am I mean I'm very early into my life right now so it kinda feels like I've

done a lot, but

I still have a lot ahead of me.

I'm in a very exciting part of my life right now.

I have everything I need to do what I love right in front of me

I'm working hard to get what I want to help myself do things

But I still don't know who I am.

The Artist Is Absent: Davey Wreden and the Beginner's Guide

Every script, every post, every creative work starts with a vision. It starts with an author finding an appropriate creative medium to express the desired feelings and/or experiences to any consumers.

I took this away from this video thinking, “can this be taken to its logical extreme?” and “what is art, anyway?”

I tried to rationalize the latter question with this:

“Anything that has had human intention put into it is art.”

This means the following can be art:

  • YouTube video thumbnails

  • Plagiarism

  • Elden Ring

  • The frontend of

  • SponsorBlock's extension settings panel

  • Unofficial XKCD Reader

  • The concept of God

  • Honda Accord

  • The insides of the Nintendo GameCube

  • The Wii U Gamepad region error

  • Google Pixel 6a

  • Homestuck

  • Not Homestuck

  • War

  • 's administrator panel

  • Bag full of SATA cables

  • DIY estrogen

  • Kurtis Conner's WaterTok video

  • Katy Perry's Dark Horse

  • Taylor Swift saying the word “The”

  • My usage of labelling XKCD as “Not Homestuck” as a reference to XKCD having “Homestuck” as a suggestion on its front page

  • My meta detailing of my usage of labelling XKCD as “Not Homestuck” as a reference to XKCD having “Homestuck” as a suggestion on its front page

  • The concept of God

  • List repetition

  • Brainfuck


  • The domain

  • The .link TLD

  • The letter “l”

  • The inside of a vacuum chamber

  • The exhaling of carbon dioxide as done by human beings

  • Network patchbay setups

  • Engineering, as a trade

  • Engineering, in ways unique to shower curtains

  • The admiration of art

  • The Mona Lisa

  • The nail the Mona Lisa may or may not hang on

  • The building the Mona Lisa resides in

  • AI generated “art”*

  • AI “art” prompts

  • Asterisks, as a delimiter for footnotes

  • Asterisks, as a character in the UTF-8 character set

  • Asterisks, as a symbol in computer code

  • Asterisks, as a formatter for modern text content

  • Asterisks, as a delimiter for lists

  • Lists, as a container for asterisks

  • Recursion

  • **

  • ***

* When modified to a degree that it becomes purposeful human art (like a single byte being changed from 0A to 0B in the header)

** The part where it says “Did you mean: recursion”. The rest of the page is not considered art

*** The content within the search bar being purposefully typed by me, the author, to generate no results at the time of posting.

I am possibly the first person to search – but who can really prove that?

Did I author because I searched it up on Google? If I gave that URL to someone else and told them to think of me whenever they looked it up, would that be enough to prove authorship? What if they gave it to someone else?

You might think, “but it says in the top! that means it's clearly made by you, right?”

No. It does not. Any old schmuck – any algorithm, even, could send a request to and get the same exact page I got.

That begs the question,

In what way is this artistic? I mean, by my definition, this is art – but how? Would you define it as art because I am certifiably the first one to send Google's servers a network packet saying GET HTTP/2? Would it be because I made this blog saying that I'm the first one to look it up?

What if I'm not? What if I'm the second one to put it into Google – maybe the third, fourth, 100th, 10,000th? What if I'm not even the first to put it in a blog saying it's mine?

I mean, for all practical reasons, I probably am... but again, I don't know that.

This definition of art is useless. It's clear that is an idea, not art. Ideas can be reproduced. Someone else can go to and get the same exact result I would. Art however, cannot be reproduced. If you destroy it, it's gone forever. Nobody can take, and nobody can copy its front page and expect it to be the exact same***-*. Art can be made of ideas, and ideas can be made of art, but ideas are not art, and art is not ideas***-**.

Nobody can reliably prove I searched up first – logs can be lost, or wiped, messages can be fabricated, and empty Google search results can always get new results after something becomes popular enough.

***-* Technically it is the exact same code but it's not on and it's hosted on a different domain (which means CORS will probably not work correctly, causing the site to function differently)

***-** I can't just beam ideas into your head telepathically – I have to adapt it to art in order to generate ideas in your head that sort of resemble my ideas.

I think that's pretty cool. Here is a list of things that cannot be art:

  • Tree leaves

  • Naturally generated AI “art” (no human intervention)

That's about it

There is a reason why it is like this: because there is art, and then there are results.

Nature is a result of thousands upon millions of years of evolution and adaptation. Nobody purposefully created nature.**** Nature is not art.

AI “art” is a result of a prompt and influence by hundreds of thousands of pieces of art to create a neural network.*****

Art can create results (like bad code generating error messages******), and results can become a base for art. You can always take water and add cheese powder to it to make cheesy water. Nobody is stopping you*******. That's art.

OK that's all I have to say. thank you goodbye

**** some people believe in god. in your case nature is art and that's fine by me i suppose

***** Fun fact: neural network weights are art by that definition, and that's also fine by me

****** i'm actually torn on whether error messages due to bad code is art or not. it probably can be (like removing files from software to intentionally cause an error) but usually it is not

******* depends on where you are adding cheese powder to water



content warning // lots of death, killing, and other related stuff; possibly direct threat

Translated from futurespeak for legibility.

hi, um... it's me, rocco here
i thought about the date today


who's been keeping track? it's gotten me thinking about the past and if anyone dedicated themselves to holding onto the date and time even through the fall of civilization
it's clear someone did, or it might be some kind of computer

emotionless boxes that do nothing but work
do you think someone should free them? do they enjoy doing work, like how my "dad" enjoys going out and collecting firearms?

all i know about computers is that there's one on my arm right now. it seems technology (is that how it's spelled?) hasn't been inhibited quite so bad by the fall

it's a little strange thinking about it
can you believe that there was something before me? something so big that just collapsed?
sometimes it doesn't feel real. like my whole life's a dream

sometimes i wish my life was a dream honestly
that all of everything that's happened to me hasn't actually happened

do you think i'd have friends when i wake up?
maybe i'd go to school? like a real, official school, with kids my age?
i'll admit, it's really weird learning english with people almost twice my age.

how am i real? i'll be honest, i think i might be in hell
this is hell, isn't it? i mean, it's all i've ever known but

i hate being shot at. i hate almost getting fucking killed because i have to steal to keep living.
and i just
i hate being on patrol. i hate having to murder people to stay alive. i wish everything wasn't as hard as it is right now.

i get homicidal dreams almost every night. tossing and turning as my mind goes insane thinking about evaporating every single goddamn person left on this earth
maybe if i was born before the fall i wouldn't have to do this
maybe i'd sleep better
maybe i could dream about puppies and kittens instead of blood and guts

i'd love to throw up thinking about it but i'm desensitized to it now
but i still feel the pain
immense amounts of pain

whatever. goodnight, log reader. i'll be staying up all night

p.s. if you are who i think you are, then you better keep an eye open tonight, you fucking prick. by now you should be dead. if you're not... i'll make sure that you are.
enjoy sleeping, cunt. i'll be outside your window, knocking


In relationships, I (as many) referenced obtaining hormone blockers.

In What are we?, I (as many) talked about the personal meaning of singular pronouns.

Today, “I” points to one (who you know as “” or even “Theo”), and “I” is no longer as many.

But, hormone blockers are still on the table.

The thing is, I currently feel a new way about my gender. I'd prefer to be non-binary, at least online, neutralizing my gender presentation and all of that.

Estrogen, even, is on the table. I wouldn't mind taking estrogen if it meant I could... be happy with myself.

Maybe it won't solve my problems.

Maybe it, let's say, makes me incredibly miserable.

At least I tried.

I'd... just like to be something nice. Something that isn't so... generic. Man, woman, cisgender, It's all kinda boring.

As I mentioned in Something Small Yet Integral, a lot of my friends are trans. And I love all of my friends! They're all really cool people and... god, they make me think.

About me, about my gender, about... how I present myself to the world. I think I've been under-representing who I am with my appearance in real life.

You know what, maybe I'm following a trend.

Maybe, even, I'd jump off of a cliff if one of my cool gay Fediverse friends did.

So what? At least I'm trying things.

I could be “confused”. It could be “a phase”. It could even “wear off”.

Even if my feelings aren't strong, I'm trying to make myself happy. To make myself comfortable in my own body.

If you're worried about me in any capacity, you may try to stop me, or have me reconsider.

I used to be like that.

“Are you sure? This is a huge life-changing thing!”

The thing is, a lot of trans people know this. They already know what it'll do to them – who's to say they don't know the cons?

To ask a trans person this question could help in theory, but in reality it's an unnecessary stopgap.

Hormones are reversible. You can sell clothes. You can give your BLÅHAJ to someone else. You don't have to get surgery to be trans.

Instead of trying to stop a trans person in their tracks, here's another way to help them: support them.

To show doubt during a trans person's exploration can make them slink towards their comfort zone, preventing them from finding out what they might really like.

To show support is to empower their experience. To make special things feel that much more special.

I'm... really tired right now ,, hehe,, but ...

I think I might be non-binary, or, at least, some kind of it.

I've been trying they/them pronouns for a while, and... they're really comfy. I love when people use they/them for me, and I think they fit me well.

I've also been wanting to get hormones, for that extra oomph. Having the effects of estrogen – hell, even the side-effects (like periods) sound ... really enticing, and they've actually sounded enticing the whole time I've been on this journey.

Maybe I should do it.

Maybe I should ask... again.

Maybe they'll even say yes.

Maybe I'll get to feel good about myself.

That'd be fucking awesome.




some people, when asked who they are, or even what they are – “are you a good boy?” – “are you trans?” – etc., know the answer for themselves. it could be “yes”, it could be “no” – hell, it could be “not exactly”... but they usually always know.

every morning, when i head to the bathroom to start my day, i look at myself in the mirror. i put on my glasses, i fix my hair, and i brush my teeth. sometimes, though, i find myself staring. i stare close at each strand of fur on my face. i feel the hair on my head, and even look into the ridges of my horns. it's always interesting to see.

of course, i don't really think of what i am when doing this – it's pretty well-defined in my brain that these horns, these strands of fur, and this hair are all mine. it's easy to stare at myself in the mirror. but when I ask why I have horns... why I wear glasses... or even why I am the way that I am...

it all starts to break down from there.



It's May 10, 2124, and Rocco sits in his room. He found a few artifacts from a society that pulled itself apart by the seams.

Political Differences, Dynamic and Systematic Oppression, Wars and Violence, Greed and Money, Democrats and Conservatives, Woke America, Transgendered Individuals,

The Internet

The World Wide Web

Tumblr Dot Com

Google Dot Com

Facebook Dot Com

What did this all mean? He was sure, after a few months of research, that technology hadn't reversed so much ever since the fallout, but he didn't understand any of this.

All of it was impossible to investigate. Archives of “The Internet” are incredibly hard to find in things like books and such. Only logs from jaded and defeated so-called “blogwriters”, recovering from the fall, managed to give him any kind of glimpse into what the culture was like.

Anything before or after? No luck.

It seems like a lot of people kept archives of The Internet on The Internet itself. The people on The Internet depended on it so much, that nobody really knew any ways to preserve any kind of artifacts from it into the future.

The mind of this feral 17-year-old boy did not like it when he figured this out.

MAY 10, 2124

hi rocco here
i dnno what happnd
i lost track of th time

k so im like frsrated rn because
iv been readin all of ths books nd
is rly hard 2 make out

what happnd 2 th internet

t js looks lke a ton of ppl

we rly havnt changed

hav we?

from is not dead I swear. New sona character, compiled from many traits of many characters I like. Let's hope this works ???!??!??!?!!!?!?!??!?

Maybe it should have robot arms.

#digital #theofur



Some sort of fox being ~/ sees in dissociation, far away, separate from the original system.

Systemization has proved to show multiples in our head – not just multiple people, but multiple systems. ~/ is a part of the original system before everyone else disappeared due to Thea's re-association.

Maybe this is a new era. A new system, marked by bouts of dissociation and re-association.

And our fox friend here marks the start of something new.

They were seen speaking to others, all behind a veil of the membrane encapsulating each system's collection of members. ~/ could only barely see silhouettes behind these veils, though it does have 3D vision in headspace – it can't see too far, and it can't see what the head doesn't want it to see.

To reveal this character, and their possible associates, it needs to investigate closer.

No further information is given.



it identifies most closely with its Pixel 6a, loaded with CalyxOS

The Pixel 6a is an agile, flexible extension of its own abilities. Powerful and internet-connected. With its bluetooth bone-induction headset, it can listen and speak to the Pixel 6a in much the same way a technopath would with their terminal, just without the direct brain connection.

It trusts and protects the Pixel 6a, in much of the same ways it protects its own body, from such things as spyware and malicious parties (like its parents). Any further proprietary software that does not trust the Pixel 6a gets contained on its Googled Pixel 2 XL, such as Minecraft: Bedrock Edition.



content warning: transphobia, of course

this could be a new dariacore song name

anyway, the moral of the story is not to look up “trans” on

we joined as “nitterdown_” in order to view posts on the site

we are never ever going to post there but it's nice to view posts from the friends who never migrated anywhere

the first thing we did was look up “lgbt”. then “gay”. then “trans”

can we stop doing this to ourselves?



You remember and forget.

It's an ambiguous cycle. You're sure you've thought of this before...

...but when? And how?

After all of the thinking, you end up very confused.

Like you almost always are.

It's tiring... sometimes you wish your brain wasn't so weird.

Not even you understand your own thoughts sometimes.



She stands at the base of a tall tower.

It's a tower she's heard of many times before. From friends, from loved ones, even from randoms on the internet.

Her tower stands very tall from a look at the very bottom... it stretches far, far up into the clouds. Many others have had their own tower climb, and have either found the truth, and lived happy for knowing it... or trip and fall, either by unpreparedness, loss of motivation, fear of heights... or just straight-up self-doubt.

From what she's heard though, the tower is a nice climb. Having multiple windows and telephones at every level to communicate with and see other tower climbers...

All it really needs is your work.

She's a little scared, but excited. She's already started climbing.

What awaits her at the top?