Niklas Anderson's Blog

IsThisCreative

This blog is also available to Tor users here: http://writeas7pm7rcdqg.onion/niklasanderson

I used to have my blog hosted by Netlify running Jekyll. But I found it all cumbersome and annoying, so I have swapped to write.as. While Write.as does not offer all the features I would like, it is more or less in line with my expectations of privacy. It is also simple enough for my simple mind.

I apologize if you have found this blog. I occasionally write here, but I do not accept any responsibility for any damage caused by me you reading what is here.

I have these categories which you can sort my posts by:

#MyIgnorantViews #MeaninglessAphorisms #TechnoPosts #IsThisCreative

#IsThisCreative

"The degree and kind of a mans WiFi password reach up and in to the ultimate pinnacle of his spirit"

- Thus Typeth Friedrich Nietzsche

#IsThisCreative

What is overcoming others, other than the overcoming of the shortest obstacles, of which we select for our own convenience, around us?

I have outdone my neighbor! A declaration of little worth, since you pick among your neighbors the easiest to overcome in the easiest of tasks.

What if I overcome the best of them in the best of tasks? The best by your self serving judgment! Like a child playing with an adult, “I beat you! I beat you!” The adult looks shyly around for your sake, embarrassed by you.

The best of targets is your own self. The best of people hate their own selves whom they have left behind and below. A cringe at a memory: a sign of overcoming, like remembering your own declarations “I beat you!” But now you as the adult of your own self's child.

But you are still child to your own self. Not now, but later. You will look back on yourself, now, with shame. Such is growth and overcoming; good health in good spirits.

Too much self acceptance is a shamelessness of weakness, without the pain needed to move beyond your own self. One who feels pain over oneself does not think of other similarly, at least not easily.

You cringe at yourself, how can you think yourself as being better than a child now? You accept others better than you accept yourself.

#IsThisCreative

A golden touch.

I am here for a short time. Let this time leave an impression.

Let there be a garden on the bare earth I lived.

#IsThisCreative

I used to think my own mind was at least interesting.

Not smart. Not brilliant. But at least interesting to be within.

You can only live with a million thoughts if you can, in at least brief moments, condense them into smaller, encapsulated thoughts.

The genius and thrill that results from living with ADHD is the demand that you push through insistent thoughts and self produced distractions by putting them to rest. By taking these impositions of the mind and pressing them into something into a singular, satisfying summary.

Some insightful, self satisfying idea that calms the god damn demons that flicker like flies inside your brain.

The emotion, the impulse, the insistent pulsing of images that at each moment take you away from world in front of you at each moment. Fighting to stay in the world right now is like fighting to keep your feet on the floor without gravity or anything in reach to hold on to. I want to be here, need to be here, need to live life, but these fucking worlds that pull me, toss me, swing me around their orbit. How did I live this long, through all these years with my mind?

My mind flattened by strattera, I know what a normal, boring life is like. I know what it is like to go a day without a fascinating or intriguing, possibly original thought. I know what its like to have a job, pay bills, and function like a modern human being: without any of the things that made my childhood so horrible but also memorable. I now know what this departure from meaning: functional adulthood, is like.

I am here. And I can follow your words as you speak to me. Now that strattera has taken my mind away,

I can live.

#IsThisCreative

A long walk in the mountains.

A long walk in the deep woods.

A long night alone at a library.

A long night alone at a bar.

A long night alone.

Any short moment.

Any short moment looking at a screen.

#IsThisCreative

Remembrance of an anti-natalist's biggest regret.

#IsThisCreative

Look at existence, and say what you see. The whole of the universe in all of its energy.

I see a tree. I see entropy.

A cold void expands. Radiation coalesces into matter, and matter cling together into planets and stars.

Branches reach out. Bleeding into the sky like a blotch of ink on cloth. It expands into the white. Emptiness stained with existence.

The expanding void, stretches across at all sides. In all ways. Matter expands with in it, expands to fill it. It must fill it. It will fill it.

An expression of the combined will of millions of cells. Individually, but codependent and mutually attracted, they break out as a single body. Cell, twig, branch, trunk.


Light passes through the leaves. The branches licking the horizon. The dust is crawling to the edges. The light, like star, fades as time passes.

Gravity. Planets roll closer to one another forming clusters. From a distance, they look like bright clouds contorting around one another.

Stars explode and collapse. Leaving ashen dust spraying to fill the space that the star could not. Dust collects together, before bursting out.

Leaves scatter, taken away by wind. The color fades away, and in death the limbs give way.

Degradation and collapse. Or is it growth and expansion?

Earth burned red. It burned green. Now it burns brown and grey.

It reaches out. Bleeding into the empty space that holds it. It takes what space it can. It does what it will.


Earth bursts out in radiation. Radiation walking on two feet.

A tree withstands the growth of its limbs by the growth of its roots.

Grow inward to grow upward.


Roots entangled. We grow outward, and into one another. A single body, bleeding into cold blackness that licks our skin.