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161

Basically: I've started a new job, which allots me way-less spare time, but has actually given me goals to work towards; so it seems more like "gettin' 'er done" than "slave labour," if you get what I mean. Either way: I've been busy. Busy enough that mindlessness and repetition began to take over the less-important aspects of my life. So I began mindlessly logging in to voat, without much consideration to what I was doing.

Here's the weird (or not-so-weird, if you get what I'm getting at) thing: the more I waded in to mindlessness, and the more the routines set in: the more despondent I became. Aloof. My life became monotonous, in the grander social aspect of it all: the view out of the window was crystal-clear, but the satellites hooked up to the meta-feed said "no signal," so to speak. And then it hit me, as I scrolled past page 7 of /v/all... I didn't care.

The rage. The baiting. The shilling. The debaiting (sic)... I just didn't care. And then something wonderful happened: I remembered Poal was a thing. From a deep sense of pointlessness, the memory resurfaced of a chill place where I actually cared what people had to say. And after I started coming back here, again, something even crazier happened: I felt the urge to upvote and comment. And I don't just mean one-off quips or random trolls: I actually felt like contributing something again; like what was being discussed was interesting enough that I wanted to join the conversation.

I don't know if you can appreciate how crazy that is. I basically got to rediscover Poal, and relearn/reinforce why I enjoy it so much. As far as I'm concerned, voat is dead. Like: for-realsies. I'm calling it: 8:35PM EST, 01-10-2020— the day voat died.

Basically: I've started a new job, which allots me ***way***-less spare time, but has *actually* given me goals to work towards; so it seems more like "gettin' 'er done" than "slave labour," if you get what I mean. Either way: I've been busy. Busy enough that mindlessness and repetition began to take over the less-important aspects of my life. So I began mindlessly logging in to voat, without much consideration to what I was doing. Here's the weird (or not-so-weird, if you get what I'm getting at) thing: the more I waded in to mindlessness, and the more the routines set in: the more despondent I became. Aloof. My life became monotonous, in the grander social aspect of it all: the view out of the window was crystal-clear, but the satellites hooked up to the meta-feed said "no signal," so to speak. And then it hit me, as I scrolled past page 7 of /v/all... I didn't care. The rage. The baiting. The shilling. The *de*baiting (sic)... I just didn't care. And then something wonderful happened: I remembered Poal was a thing. From a deep sense of pointlessness, the memory resurfaced of a chill place where I actually cared what people had to say. And after I started coming back here, again, something even crazier happened: I felt the urge to upvote and comment. And I don't just mean one-off quips or random trolls: I actually felt like contributing something again; like what was being discussed was interesting enough that I wanted to join the conversation. I don't know if you can appreciate how crazy that is. I basically got to rediscover Poal, and relearn/reinforce why I enjoy it so much. As far as I'm concerned, voat is dead. Like: for-realsies. I'm calling it: 8:35PM EST, 01-10-2020— the day voat died.

(post is archived)

[–] 1 pt

Yes, except that poal is run by wolves. Which is a problem. I don't think there is anywhere left for us to go. We have become the wandering Jews. I think they are casting about for people to devour. Poal is a Honeypot, a trap. Except it's not the government that set it. It's the "woke" people. The antifa types. Unless the government IS the antifa types.

[–] 0 pt

I don't really care about all that anymore, frankly. New places will always pop-up as we need them, as has always been the case. There will always be spooks and manipulators, wherever "we" go. Jesus didn't care what people thought of him as he whipped the jew merchants out of the temple. He had nothing to hide.

[–] 0 pt

My brother. You understand. I love you.