Peak Ghosting: Not Needing or Wanting Anything The Matrix is Selling
Many regulars who read the heresy of TNMM know that I’m a ghost when I must suffer ungladly the fools and frauds of Anglo culture. It doesn’t take long after coming back from Asia, the Caribbean or South America – places where I’m engaged and alive – to quickly disconnect from an Anglo America built on its obsession with fueling female materialism and pushing fantasies about what this nation IS NOT.
As someone who has been to 48 states and nearly every major city, who has seen this country from inside the TV news studio to the harsh realities of life spent living inside a truck – I can assure you America is built on little more than a lie.
I am fucking miserable when I’m here in the matrix.
The situation is so dire, an unending work-sleep-spend cycle with no time for anything beyond that unholy trinity of consumerism, plus a miserable social environment, and lack of sexual gratification I naturally return to ghost mode when I’m in this hellish matrix.
I have found myself screaming into the wilderness: There’s nothing here for me, goddamn it! There’s simply nothing in America for a man other than unending toil. In recent days I’ve even found myself envying a primitive African tribe that made the news, simply because life in modern Faustian machine culture has become so miserable. Hunting animals and growing one’s own food while enjoying social connection and the priceless gift of TIME with friends and family seems like a much more fulfilling way to live than being inside the belly of this beast we have created in the West.
All people do in America is feed various machines with their lives. I fed the mainstream media news machine with much of mine. Now I feed the retail machine by transporting goods from factory to market, but only so I can build a life free of this madness.
Dreams of my next escape from the matrix keep me motivated and alive.
But while I’m here, day to day life is nothing short of drudgery and misery. The modern economy doesn’t benefit men, it benefits women and their unending obsession with shiny things. Imagine, no time for people. No time for human connection. No time to ponder life or to experience the natural world. Only time to think, act, and live like a human machine producing money and goods for female consumption. (Women drive 80% of spending in this travesty of a society.)
For some time, I’ve been pondering a way to escape the madness through minimalism and ghosting. I don’t want to spend the second half of my life trapped in debt bondage nor wage slavery, culturally castrated and socially atomized as Anglo America would have me live.
No, my time would be much better spent free of this insane system.
I’ve been pondering how far I can take my ghosting/minimalism to completely escape the matrix. The thought occurred to me that peak ghosting would be not needing nor wanting anything the matrix is trying to sell me. Frankly, I’m already to the point I don’t want anything it is selling.
When I walk into a store I am immune to the seduction of cheap, plastic gadgets and doodads most fat, unhappy Americans are beholden to. I don’t want any of it. As a minimalist, I’ve realized the human cost all that junk imposes on not only me but the wage slaves designing, producing, transporting, and selling it.
So, I’m already at the ghosting level of not wanting anything the matrix has to offer. The next steps are not needing anything the matrix has to offer beyond the barest essentials like food and enough money to fuel my adventures around the world. (Although I’d eventually like to grow much of my own food someday.) Not needing to kiss corporate ass to afford a place to live by building my own cabin in the woods on some land I own. Depending on myself rather than a thoroughly corrupt system.
The only way to escape the matrix is to not be dependent on it. That’s what I’m working on now as I live the minimalism I preach in the back of a sleeper unit in a truck. I dream of the day I travel the world half the year and spend the other half living in my cabin in the mountains, largely self-sufficient, living a world apart from the gynocentric machine culture I have grown to despise.
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