isolation anonymous

read fucked up stories about our lives, come here if you are lonely, depressed, or feel isolated


feel like i haven’t posted on here in so long but it seems almost impossible to do almost anything anymore. feeling destroyed internally, like incinerated, mutilated, utterly shredded, as if there were a mosquito bite where my heart’s suppposed to be. the more i try to take care of myself and go out on a limb to be myself and try to be happy the clearer it becomes that i’m never gonna make it home to anything but chaos living as this. thankful at least for the fact that cigarettes exist. otherwise i’d be so fucked. lately there have lots of bees outside my house. i got stung in the leg. now it looks almost like a black hole is growing on my calf.

every time i leave my house and try to enjoy  stuff that should make me feel nostalgic, like going to my favorite bar, it just feels like burning. it’s hard to describe. i always have so much to say and most everyone i find out in the world has so little patience or willingness to understand. sometimes i totally intimidate people without meaning to; the typical response is i’ll be ignored from that point on OR, i’ve had this happen a lot, people who seem to feel threatened by me turn around and assert dominance by arguing fiercely with me about nothing. some wench i bumped into at a local tavern my best friend and i used to haunt way back when started screaming at me about hilary clinton the other night even though i wasn’t really listening, just staring at the sky and trying to drink a beer. in high school she had sex with virtually every guy in my circle but i never paid her any attention really. some friendships were definitely injured beyond repair by this girl’s need to seduce basically every male i regularly smoked cigarettes with back then and many others i’m sure. so, maybe she’s just offended i never expressed interest in trying to have sex with her. literally SCREAMING at me, i don’t know why, but people do act weird when they’re sexually frustrated, especially when they feel conflicted about who or what they want.

it was extra weird because a friend of hers at the table that night started talking to me about getting married. girl B and i hooked up once a long time ago but the sex was mediocre at best and resulted in the irreconcilable ruin of a great relationship i had at the time. girl B would come over to my house wasted on the weekends asking for a place to stay and claiming to be too smashed to go home and i guess i was dumb, or maybe it was just that my girlfriend’s twin sister turned out to be the one i really loved and it’s never stopped haunting me to be honest. my experience of living as man is that that relationships with women never pan out in a way that seems to make sense, even though everything is everything and everything happens for a reason. i struggle with finding the reason why i had to be born a boy though. is it fucked up if i want to become a gay woman? i feel like some people would say that just makes me a pervert or a creep or something. thinking about sex gives me a headache but i have one friend, baxter, who i can always talk to about anything no matter how fucked up it is. he’s the only person i like to spend time with more than i like being alone. usually we meet all kinds of fucked up people when we go out, almost like we’re living in a greek myth and he’s zeus and i’m thanatos or potentially even persephone, so i guess it’s not so weird we wound up bumping into the harpies.

i’m so fuckin glad i found this website. sometimes no matter how honestly i express myself or how openly i wear my heart on my sleeve, i feel like everyone just wants to murder me for the level of freedom i have thanks to my newfound total acceptance of zero as the only lasting infinite truth. i wonder if some people would read this and think i’m a misogynist or trying to slut-shame the girls in my story from just before because i don’t respect the way they carry themselves. i called out some girl from town for basically making a rape joke but one of her friends told me in so many words that my interpretation of the comment “i’ll make her look like she likes it” was aggressive and none of my business. the gender paradigm is endlessly mystifying to me. the other girl told me it’s none of my business what the first girl’s joke means and i need to stop “man-splaining,” which according to her is a violent way that men misinterpret the messages of women. the whole conversation kind of made me want to throw up, even just thinking about it now does too honestly.

read a great article on wikipedia that made me think a lot about who the hell i’m supposed to be. i recommend everyone ask themself that same question more often, every single day if possible. i’m gonna make some more coffee and get lit and work on music ’cause i talked to someone this morning who really centered me in whatever purpose the totality of my experiences up to this point has led me to see value in. good luck everyone, if i die today, even though some people hate me for relentlessly telling the truth, my conscience is clear as spring rain and heart is lighter than anything








just anomally thinggs…

heyy guys russel here, woke up and heard a new song today…

well i wanted just to get on here and tell you guys im ok. people keep contacting me on here about some of my posts from the past when i had a bad addiction problem to alpha-php and 3-meo-pcp, i dontt even do drugggs anymore just for incase you guys wondered. mostly just drink coffee and smoke salem-winston Lights. not that it’s anybody’s GOD DAMN FUCKING BUSIness but mine. sorry i get a littttle heated at times when my phone starts breaking down on me for no reason. im thinking of buying a samsung galaxy in a feww here can anybody speak to that?? is it a good phone?


well some stuff happened the other day but i wont get into it currently im still in court proceedings with my ex-girlfriend jane ross. if you guys dont know her she\\s the most selfish person ive ever met thatss all i’ll say. people always say to me “russ whats wrong ‘ OR  “russ y the long face” well when someonne takes u to court for a restraining order they issued because you told the truth, its frustrating. i represent myself in any and all proceedings because even though the official story sometimes says “no foul play,” i read between the lines when bad shit happenns. Kaelyn the girl downstairs from my apartment in the gas station wher i used to work said the same thing to me even. im thinkinggg of asking me to go out with her and eat tomato soup soon. i got a new job at a firmm downtown wher all i do is jerk off, leave work early to go to the firing range and make coffee. u cant make thiss stuff up. the truth is stranger


well guys i just wanted to say i have been was thinkng about you guys a lot mostly for the time ive been awaayy. i talked to thom and lhj on maplestory the other night and theyr good guys honestly most of my friends that id say are the best ive met from there and started reading another blog and whoever is the mixtape character on there hes my new fuckinggg hero. not sure why the guy writing the blog is aggressively deriding mixtape so much. seems like frommm what i can tell the author must be sexually attracted to him in order to hate mixtape that much and likely a closeted homosexual,  i have a sixth sense for these kindss of things but im very busy, gotta go to work soon and always am fighting for time to take a shit before i clock in. welll i guess thats it for now guys im gonna go bust out grande latte enema tyler durden style annd go jacks  smirking revenge on the situation as usuall. dont worry about me 2 all my friends on here. i wont ever changge


ifrit _ over and out&– RUSSELL JAMES, JR.

pissed off

hello it’s jack, sorry for the confusion. feeling extremely fucking angry. this summer has been the most fucked up yet just like everything else. wanted to just give shoutouts to lhj for reminding me to do pushups when i’m feeling this way, hate heals. you should try it sometime.

hooked up with this mousy lesbian girl who wrecked my whole fucking world. people love to call me a drug addict and sever ties with me, well guess what bitch, the needle is full of you. it’s not even fair.  wish i was a lesbian living on a bed made out of pomegranates and avocado shells.  then nobody could play the ice queen card in order to destroy my happiness for no reason.


god, im fucking finixhed. i really am. takes almost all my energy to keep it real like i do and my face just keeps getting jerked off in as a result. i tried watching gay porn and i liked it. ten dollars left to last until payday next week, i wonder how much liquor that will buy. definitely no reason to be sober at this point. my lesbian mouse said she had loved me since before we ever even met, then ran back to her girlfriend before anything could get real. plus i had tried to say no in the first place out of respect; she tried to take me into the woods and use me to satiate herself and i defiantly blacked out on a bench instead. then once she sobered up and came clean, it became a matter of her trying to say i started it. so i changed her name in my phone to “Trick2” and was reminded why the people who only pretend to love me so they can use my dick are always the ones i hate the most.


i’m not gonna lie i’ve always struggled with gender dysphoria. this girl being a bitch on this level really made me want to just change into something nobody can touch. i want to be a gryffin chimera of all good things beating to the rhythm of the heart of the world.  fucking glad i’m not worth loving to most people honestly, if i’m straight up with almost anyone i can see the machine of themself short-circuiting while they wonder if i’m a person who sex could be ok with. people are so fucking fake, if the apocalypse happens in my lifetime i’ll enjoy the carnage so much. a violent death could only be glorious


happy birthday jerry.


  • jackz

the fucking fury

hey guys russ again. where to start. well it’s been a long time since i thought i first saw myself wholly and at total peace with the duality of things. guess i must have been wrong. self-diagnosed myself with rapid mania but nothing seemss to help. it’s as if things are adding up in total at some times, then at others like a tetris games where all the truth was cleared away by dropping the L block and now i don’t even know anything anymore again.

well not sure what i want to tell you guys, my cat is crying and i’m getting fucking pissed off, even though her breakfast time is 5 and she knows that but it’s 4:40 currently. very often i hate her so much, at times i’ve even held a knife to her just to think how much more a sustainable decision it is to eat her fucking brain.


surrounded by death lately. everyone is always trying to say “well don’t worry russ” or “u takeing things too seriously” but im fuckng not. i got an ak-47 on layaway because the tec-9 i wanted was a $600 price, not what i could afford but the AK i can have for a monthly fee which is nice. so far i’ve been shooting two times. also found a bunch of bottle rockets at my new job but the wood stems are fucked on ’em so i keep burning my hands trying to play wwhenn i get drunk.


wasn’t to smart about my money this week but i’ve invested a good deal into medicine over time. Lionshead Beer for me is what some people probably think tylenol is, some people who are fucking shit. sorry i thought i was jack for a second you guys. just was acting more fucked up then usual



existential aloneness

Lately my life has become more than a video game… Existential aloneness surrounds me from all angles but I am enjoying the peaceful solitude…somehow I feel better than ever. I have somehow bursted through the level ceiling of 200 and transformed into level 205. The new skills I have learned are embrace aloneness, navigate deep self, and connection with the five elements through the practice of isolation.

The way I have been improving my character I feel like CJ in GTA San Andreas after swimming driving and biking a million miles, working out for 2 hours each cycle of the sun, and killing hundreds of thousands of people with each gun.

peaceful solitude

peaceful solitude

The way I’ve been achieving inner strength lately is through the peacefulness and practice of solitude on an every day basis. Now not much has changed in the fact that I spend 99% of my time alone, but a new outlook and perspective have led me to deep realizations of inner strength and fury which I have been harnessing day by day with each breath that moves through me. The Earth is a violent place and sometimes we must be violent with ourselves in preparation for the unknown.

The future is a field of infinite possibilities of scenarios that have already played out and are being played out still, unendingly. There is a wormhole opening deep in my self. My life is an endless feedback loop of refrigeration and reheating, on and off, information and silence. I am traversing the line between light and dark and have looked the scepter in the eye.

art in our life

Honestly I’m still still video games but lately while I’m playing I just think about myself. I think about darkness, death, aloneness, realness, solitude, light, peace, longevity, aloneness. But I mostly think the war tactics involved in each moment of each game I play including life itself. I envision myself as a warrior, fighting a battle against everyone else in the world. My primary weapon is a worm hole. My secondary is a broadsword. Daggers in all of my sneakers and razor blades under all of my tongues in all of my mouths.

Ever since lhj told me about push ups and how they were increasing his strength and making him a better overall warrior I’ve been doing theme everyday in between my other activities like playing video games and sitting still and lying down and walking to the store. I’ve been taking ice cold showers to strengthen my spirit because the war has already started. It would appear as though the gods were bestowing some type of blessings upon me, manifesting their will somehow through me. I owe them sacrifice. Ready to do something positive to this world.


purging emotional pain

can almost feel the chicken clogging my veins… as i’m purging emotional pain – transitioning into fire…burger king breakfast every day until i become a pancake. if life were a pancake death is maple syrup and i am the part of the pancake that got burnt on accident and tastes weird. chicken finger yearning doesn’t stop for me.



chicken finger

been going through an emotional purge lately and i feel good around 11 am everyday and by 3 I feel like a dump trunk full of garbage legs seeping into a rip in the universe… told some girl her hair was cool today and she looked really fucking happy it was kind of cool. then she said how her hair used to be blue or some shit and i didn’t know what to say to her so i just looked at my phone.

anyway i fucking hate how people just bump into you on the train it makes me want to knock someone the fuck out… why do people still not wear deoderant in the heat of the summer in twenty fuucking sixteen i had to tell some dude he smelled like the curry he ate 3 nights ago because he insisted on putting his arm right on top of me in the bus like I’m just glad he moved but i honestly should have kicked him out the back door cuz after he moved he just like moved right on top of this old chinese lady and had his arm pit right on her face man and i don’t know if i should have saved her or him BUT FUCK ITs not about him man

i just got back from copping a fucking lot of fruit because i just feel all the meat pasta and rice fucking stagnated within and i need to help myself help myself FUCKING PURGE…

honestly think I’m ascending into space somehow… feel like my emotions are EXPLODING like a fucking star.. need to fucking go to sleep now sorry for the shitty post honestly


but i just wanted to say whats good and welcome to the new members and big ups to jackruzst for holding shit down .. hope everyone is good

-stay isolated-


purging emotional pain

purging emotional pain

somewhere inbetween

neutrality is such an important concept. the color of total nothing. the flavor of pure emptiness, undistilled as ice cream splattered on a hot sidewalk. i don’t care about anything in the world anymore. there’s no room to given how disturbed things all are. everything makes me feel like laughing just by the way it is, until i start thinking about death again. maybe some times in order to truly love someone you have to really hate them too but not always.

i like going to my meaningless job that doesn’t matter and spending all the rest of my time messing everything up. the world is gonna have to get  a lot more messed up before it gets any better honestly. seems like i have offended plenty of people lately. i wonder about rhythmic disorganization. things have to happen a certain way or else they would be inauthentic. there’s never any value in being half-closeted about any certain way you might feel. writing helps me try to understand. words are stark and to the point.


the art of total isolationism

hey what’s up guys, this is rex. have been reading your guys posts for awhile so jus got up w LHJ recently and asked if i could post on here so i thought i’d drop one. just was thinking about total isolationism while sitting on my back-stoop feeling the bern of somethin good while watching a bee pollenate a flower. just was thinking about the way things work. it’s amazing the shit i remember during the day while i’m at my job, mainly things i said to people through my phone, the total discomfort of things i’m able to communicate faster than any other way via text is incredible. it takes me so much longer to craft any kinda realistic sentiment of how i feel usin just a pen and paper anymore. this shit is lightning. yo the world is all like at the end of final fantasy vii before the dead girl’s infinitely uplifting spirit saves the planet against the laws of reality or what it might seem. i’m voting for hilary. fuck what everybody thinks.


i keep abusing boundaries and repelling people from myself. this whole summer’s been a time of radical transformation. i genuinely feel most interested in the limitlessness of isolation. the human mind has far to wander, to the brink of something at least, and the infinity of chaos is endlessly astounding. literally anything can happen. i watch a lot of cops to remind myself to be grateful as i can about not being arrested irl atm. it’s so great to not be getting arrested. u really gotta always be thankful
anyway i just got off work, i’m having a few cold ones and watching a few highlight reels of the police doing their job, passing my time as greatly as any American can. i hope i’ll think of some more shit to say so i can get on here and post. really wanna thank LHJ and thomas for keepin it real all summer. honestly feel the most connected to distant whispers cast in moments of crushing reality



shutdown burnout frazzle star

So many things happen each day, it’s hard to take it all in at times. took a ride out to a part of town I don’t usually visit and had the same archetypically heartbreaking experience of walking into a bar that I’ve had endlessly since 2013. If you’re jinxed the way I am, you can’t quietly drink a Budweiser in any liquor-licensed American establishment making without Cripple Creek auto-playing on the jukebox and all the clocks saying 7:21. It’s not a bad feeling when the tone of things becomes a little too close to home, it’s just “a puzzle that can never be finished,” in the words of Erik Petersen, who the world is deeply wounded to have lost this week.

the impossible amount of energy resonating as a distant echo from the core my being each time I am reminded that I knew true love once and pissed it away, there’s just nothing to do with it all. summer was just getting going when we shared a beanbag chair, a Blue Moon, and a Camel Light. The tension between us was electric and ablaze as the brainstems of the plastered cast we partied with that weekend in aught thirteen. The next week I drove across state lines to her house in the dead of night with a quart of moonshine riding shotgun to keep me steady. I brought her home and we sat under the Japanese Maple Tree in the front yard and I saw all the faces of everyone I’d ever met assigning themselves in a harmonious order according to my own magnetic pulse. Was I reliving every lifetime? Just a few weeks ago I had woken up in a house I knew I’d always lived in, though it was my first time spending the night there, a home that I was always meant to find.

At least it’s Sunday. I’m sitting at my desk listening to that one Mazzy Star song everybody knows and trying to prepare for how crazybatshit fucking insane this upcoming full moon is going to be. It’s a “Full Buck Moon,” according to the Farmer’s Almanac…

deer-night-moon-deer-buck-antlers-sky-full-size-free-desktop-background-736x552… and she always told me her spirit was a deer, and they’d surround her in the yard or assemble at the window if we were inside. Every time I spy a fawn these days, I always hope it’s trying to lead me back to her, though likely I’m too lost to ever find a way. But maybe on the horizon there must be #somethin’ (there has to be that much at least), unless this is my last night, but that time won’t be for quite a while I don’t think, in spite of the fact that the realer things get and the older I grow the more my pack-a-day habit bleeds into being more like two or three sometimes. In this country there’s something so infinitely comforting about a pack of Marlboro Reds on the kitchen counter, or at least, it always affords me equal solace as a pack of Camel Filters in my front pocket.


She told me that there used to be a light to follow my words but that somewhere along the way it had got lost. All of a sudden, I feel I have so much to say


– Rust


hopez & dreamz

I’m lucky if I can get any sleep at all these days. If I feel the inclination like I have to pass out, I basically have to it right then, otherwise, it probably won’t happen at all. I never know what’s gonna happen when I drift away. A lot of really fucked up shit happened when I was little. Sometimes in my dreams, most recently, it was and endless loop of violation, people like my boss from my old job stepping to me aggressively in one vignette after another and attempting to manipulate my space for malignant designs. They called me down for a meeting with Human Resources this week, but as soon as I got there the HR person vanished and I was fired on the spot. Apparently my behavior seems erratic lately. Oh well. I didn’t like working down in the gulag much anyway.

When I do sleep, no matter what state of mind I pass out in, I always wake up with my head spinning. It feels like shit’s just getting intensely real lately and I feel as though running out of time. The second I regain consciousness, my mind darts around the real at a gajillion miles an hour, re-acclimating to material truth and boundary designations. I believe in the astral plane and sometimes I try to will my spirit body to go there. Sometimes I think it happens of its own accord. I try to draw on the parts from my dreams that seem a little too close to home but it’s like sand slipping through my fingers.


So I get up and boot up the whispermachine, i.e., whichever medium is most accessible and most suitable for trying to distill the chaos into something digestible. Lately I’ve been having this one recurrent imagination about an island of total isolation, a place where I wake up and nobody is anywhere, a perfectly archipeligraphic locale of impeccable solitude. I got a few books about spells and incantations but none of them work. The other night I followed a recipe in my Chaos Magick textbook for a seance to try and communicate with my dead dog, Baxter, but nothing happened. So lately when I’m in the between state of this world and that of dreams, I imagine Baxter and myself on the island together, encased in an impenetrable diamond prism filled with sweet-smelling smoke, like frankincense. Maybe there are other ghosts like us around. I’m not really sure yet.

One thing I do know is that when I wake up, there’s one beat I like to listen to that when I turn on,  I feel totally reset and motivated to fall back and take the subtle, roundabout whisper-ean approach to destroying everything.  always seems to work out for the best. it’s good to return to things that are comfortable and familiar. everybody just wants to buy a box of nostalgia packaged as marlboro lights. nostalgic for lifetimes we can’t even say for sure we lived in unless we step out that far onto a limb. I have a lot of suspicions about what’s going on here but I don’t like to talk about it too much. Mostly I just like to think about my dog and the island. RIP Baxter. One day we’ll ride together again

– Jack Rustle

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