thediaryofanhonestman

[thediaryofanhonestman]

Hello, diary!!! Entry number 5. 01/08/2025 Woke up again feeling like I’m late… Where to and why — no idea! But once again, I lose myself in life, giving in to speed… I want to live, and I want to prove that I can live relying only on my own abilities. But for the past 26 years, all I’ve shown is my failures. You see, diary, with you, I can be more honest than with anyone else… Yesterday and tomorrow will be just like today, and in this cycle of repetition, it’s so easy to get lost — and, even worse, to lose yourself… And all I want is to live like everyone else. Sooooo! I finally managed to sort out those damn payment systems!) Now we’re one in a million, but still, one of a kind! I wonder, what do you think? How will people perceive the idea that they can donate to us? I’ve always approached this question with a bit of embarrassment, and maybe the way I present it makes it look even worse… Maybe I’ll think about it some more. Why was the donation system even created? It’s a system designed to support content creators, meant to be a bridge between the creator and the admirer… Well, let’s see how it goes. Such a noble idea, and yet our contemporaries have managed to ruin it, constantly chasing, often criminal, schemes. So… Even though my help is still needed in the real world, diary, I solemnly and wholeheartedly swear to you that, day by day, entries about research will appear inside you — I’m already looking forward to it!) Entries will appear inside you… Sounds a bit questionable, of course, but I hope you’ll survive it, buddy!) I noticed a thought in my notes: When we say to someone, “I’m with you,” we’re essentially allocating a fragment of space within our consciousness for minimal focus on them… Essentially, if we remove the condition of distance, in the end, “I’m with you” means that you give a part of yourself, your consciousness, for the sake of someone close… And you create a little space within yourself for them. That’s it, I’ve figured out how the system will work!) On various platforms, people will be able to see the final result of my thoughts, but on Ko-fi, everyone will be able to see the process! That’s how it is, diary… I never would’ve thought that keeping you could, in some way, positively influence the structure of my thoughts… I also have plans to improve this system for readers. But it’s too early for that, since we don’t have many readers yet! Let’s wait until they get to this point, so later I can gauge their desire to move forward… Yeah… I’m quite the audacious one, diary!) Some might not understand this in the future, but by putting a date in the diary, I’m marking the previous day… Even I got confused in my own system today!) Basically, those who see my diary as complete are seeing both my and your yesterday. One thing the future reader of this diary might not realize… Every thought expressed here is the truth. But thoughts about the future should stay in the future! For now, we have today, and some don’t even know how to deal with that — let alone the future…

[thediaryofanhonestman]

Hello, diary! Entry number 4. 01/07/2025 Well, the day starts at midnight, morning begins with sunrise, and breakfast with coffee. But for me, morning starts with explaining to the GPT chat what kind of picture I want. Why is it like this? Yesterday, I finished working on you, made you absolutely lovely — so that one day, when you “come to life,” we could enjoy the effort together. And today, I just wanted a new picture, and here we are, all tangled up… Neural networks are so smart, yet sometimes such little dummies. It seems like I’m doing everything as usual, but in the end, I can’t publish you in the journal we’re posting in. And you know, I’m noticing more and more that the publication system on Medium is complicated for me. Sometimes, I even find myself wondering: why here, of all places? Don’t get me wrong. The journal itself is great. I see how it’s growing, and it became the first — and so far the only — place that accepted me for who I am. But the Medium platform… Maybe the issue lies in my lack of understanding? Or is it because I’m blind? Or the language barrier? Or maybe… it’s just me? What difference does it make! As strict fathers say: “Foolishness is cured by pain.” And the pain, in this case, is that the entry, which was supposed to be published with a picture, won’t come out on time. But that’s okay. Life goes on, and someday, someone will find you anyway. Today, I was able to help a friend. He had some work-related issues, and as a loyal companion, I dedicated my day to solving them. Admittedly, it sounds a bit exhausting, but honestly, I’m glad. Glad that I was able to be useful. Sometimes, these moments feel more important than my own questions and dreams. Now it’s evening. I’m resting and enjoying dreams of a future where, at the very least, I can return to learning and exploring. Oh, and by the way, I managed to publish after all! So our story continues. Oh, and by the way, I managed to publish after all! So our story continues. When I finish everything, I’ll update the description on Medium. I’ll try to link it with Ko-fi, add PayPal… As you can see, there’s a ton to do, and the new diary entry is already waiting to be prepared for publication! Well, my dear friend. Tomorrow is a new day. What will it be like? No one knows. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t greet it with a smile. Whether it’s a paper one or a human one, let it be.

[thediaryofanhonestman]

Hello, diary! Entry number 3. 01/06/2025 Today, I gave in to a friend’s persuasion and changed the color scheme on my phone to monochrome. He insists that this way the brain adapts and starts perceiving incoming information differently. Well, having embarked on the life of a researcher, I must live up to it, right? I don’t have certificates or medals to prove the importance of the experiments I come up with to anyone. So, I conduct them on myself. Diary, you probably don’t know this either, but in recent months, I’ve spent a lot of time trying to find common ground with the scientific world. I’ve written to various organizations, institutes… And you, perhaps, could answer me: “Did anyone at least reply?” “But the truth is, my inbox is empty. Sometimes overcoming language barriers is much easier than social and bureaucratic ones. But in every negative, there’s a positive. At least I haven’t yet been labeled as crazy. After all, in our world, it’s enough to look at familiar things from a slightly different angle — and that’s it. Clinics, doctors, injections. And eventually, the loss of oneself as a person. Still, we humans are so humane. I look at the open thread of dialogue in the GPT chat and realize how far my thoughts have drifted from studying society and consciousness. I used to be passionate about finding an answer. And now, even when I find it, I don’t know how to describe it. A vicious circle of questions that are so hard to answer. Maybe my social theory isn’t just an answer for society. It’s an answer for myself. But for now, I’m still searching for it. And once again, the confinement of the room, where I don’t know what to do next. I’m writing the third entry and starting to doubt: are they even necessary? They say that to get used to something and understand if it’s worth doing, the body needs 21 days. And how much time do I need? Another thread of my thoughts is connected to the idea of a program for retraining military personnel for civilian professions. I know there’s something like this in America. In the context of my country, it would be extremely beneficial. But I have the idea, I have the understanding, yet there’s no result. I only know how to speak, while our material world insists: Any idea is just an idea. Go and make it happen. That’s how we live, diary… Today, I played chess again. It’s nice that I’ve been able to do this more often lately. For me, chess is an art, not just a game with strict rules and opening theories. Once, I had a first-category rank in chess. But those times are now just memories, filled with a light sense of nostalgia. Even back then, I saw chess as an art that needed to be understood. But instead of understanding, I was offered to memorize openings and puzzles. Perhaps I was meant to come to this understanding on my own. Then and now are, of course, two completely different worlds. I’m considering moving you, diary, to Substack. Not just as a collection of entries, but as a place where anyone can follow the entire flow of my thoughts. I really hope that after years of obscurity and solitude, this work will reach someone and become a captivating story. But for now, you live on Medium. And the uncertainty worries me a little: I don’t know the platform’s rules. Could they block the diary without reason? There are more questions than answers… I’ll have to work hard to figure out how to convey information about you to this chaotic world. But I will remember the main thing: Only what I do shapes me as a person.

[thediaryofanhonestman]

Hello, diary! Entry number 2. 01/05/2025 Winter days in Kyiv feel like an endless cascade of changing seasons. Today, outside my window, I’m witnessing autumn. Yes, AUTUMN! Leaves are still clinging to the trees, and golden light dances along their edges. I wonder, why do we call this time winter when it feels so much like autumn? But last year, around this same time, I remember slipping on the ice. There you have it — time’s relativity, diary. Remember this! How did I notice such a detail? Well, I simply managed to play a couple of chess games with a colleague while listening to classical music. By the way, it reminded me of how society once emphasized “aristocracy.” It’s amusing how it was understood as something pompous, associated with self-admiration. But aristocracy isn’t just refinement; it’s also the freedom to choose — to be or not to be aristocratic. Yes, diary, connecting my thoughts into a single picture can be difficult. But it’s a good thing you’re inanimate. I can imagine you as a smart notebook that understands everything. The other day, I was watching the series “Eureka” and heard an idea: “There is no justice in the world.” And you know, I don’t understand why, realizing this, we don’t do everything possible to fight injustice. I’m not saying it’s the number one problem, but still… What real steps can be taken to make the world fair? 2,000 years ago, the world was unjust. And it remains unjust today. Maybe it’s people who are mistaken, not me, for questioning why the world stays this way? “Consciousness determines being,” they say. But consciousness is a process of learning. And until a person learns to understand how their thoughts are formed, they won’t be able to control them. And sometimes control is harder than understanding. Take selfishness, for example. If I know that I’m selfish, I can become aware of all its manifestations: both the positives and the negatives. Bad — a negative; good — a positive. And it’s up to me alone to find that point where it balances at zero. Where my selfishness stops affecting someone else’s life. But even here, a question arises: If selfishness can bring self-confidence, should I influence someone else’s life? And does that person even need my influence? Diary, congratulations! You’ve become a star! 🌟 Yesterday, I posted your first entry online — in the vast network where people are intertwined like a web. And then I encountered a language barrier. Imagine: throughout human history, we’ve created hundreds of languages. Now, to understand one another, we have to make enormous efforts. I write my thoughts to you, then, with the help of AI, I make them smoother, and afterward, I translate them into another language. So many opportunities for the meaning to shift! And at the other end of this chain is another person, just like me. Who is now sitting there, unable to understand exactly which world I am afraid of… My own world, the one I’ve imagined, the society’s world around me, or is it just a play on words… Only dynamics will define my state… But I believe the moment will come when our misunderstanding will fade into the background. We will discover who we are and understand how we affect one another. Perhaps, in that answer, I will find my own answers too.

[thediaryofanhonestman]

Hello, diary!

Today is January 4, 2025, and this is my first entry.

Itmight seem a bit strange to address an electronic publication as if it were a printed version for preserving my thoughts, ideas, experiences, and interesting observations. But I believe this is how they begin to take on meaning.

I notice in myself and those around me how we gradually come to the need to realize our “significance” in this world. But the most surprising thing is that neither I nor anyone else around me has a clear answer to the question:

Who am I?

There is no thought, no hint, no idea.

And you know what’s the most interesting part?

Mychildhood coincided with the time when the idea of “Ukraine” began to take shape not only as a geographical concept but also as a social theory. It was seen as a place where a society with a shared idea, culture, and mentality came together under one concept — Ukrainians. I have a normal attitude toward the concept of statehood and understand its necessity. But isn’t it strange that from the very moment we are born, even before we comprehend our desires, a certain status is imposed on us? Labels are attached that seem to distance us from true self-discovery and self-realization.

Sometimes I’m deeply afraid that society itself doesn’t want to become better…

And so, approaching that moment in my life when I need to answer the questions, Who am I? and What do I want?, I realize that I don’t know the answers. This lack of understanding gives rise to a primal fear — a terror at the thought that I might live a long, or even short, life without ever grasping its meaning. A life at the end of which I won’t even know what awaits me next.

A new life or eternal death?

Somany theories and ideas, beliefs and mysticism, yet no one can definitively answer the question: What comes next? Maybe it’s just that people can’t come together and decide, at least collectively, in which direction to even think?

I want to… I really want to trust the rules of this world. You see, diary, everyone keeps shouting that physics will explain everything, that the world operates according to physical laws, yet we know nothing… Some say we’ve existed for millions of years, others say thousands, but none of them acknowledge that in all this time, we’ve understood absolutely nothing — aside from how to order chips online. Here’s a funny thought for you, my paper friend — imagine this! The moment I started writing in you and addressed you as if you were a living being, I essentially defined you as alive in the context of our world. We both know it’s absurd, but imagine if I really put effort into it. If I spent ten years and involved a couple hundred people, I could actually prove that a simple paper notebook is alive and has rights… It’s funny, of course, but in the end, a couple hundred people would have spent ten years on some incomprehensible nonsense, only for nothing to really change.

It’s scary… Just terrifying, the world I live in…

And now you understand how terrifying it is for me that I have to search for an answer to the question, What comes next?

Is time relative? Does a nerve impulse have a length? Do we experience emotions, and are they what shape what we see?

But let’s step away from these “silly” thoughts for a moment, shall we? Can you imagine, diary? I’ve realized something: to understand myself, I write down my thoughts and observations to you — a nonexistent, inanimate object. All of this — because I don’t know what it means to be human… And no one in this vast world can convince me that I am simply a biological system, or a soul trapped in a material shell, or a product of evolution.

Because everyone around is playing with theories and hypotheses instead of implementing laws and models…

Who am I? Why am I?

The only truth I have is the realization that I am the space within my own head, looking out at everything around me through the “windows” of my eyes. A space for possibilities that I choose for myself. A potential for movement that will only fade when the nature of my existence demands it.

You know, all this time I’ve been trying to understand how I’m different from others. Yes, I have a disability — I’m blind. But how does that affect the fact that I am a person? Who even gave us the right to decide who and how should live? When did it happen that people started to think of themselves as gods in a world they barely influence? Who initiated this original idea of societal stability, this confidence in the future? Why do we believe in things that don’t exist?

Here, in this diary, you might not know, but we had this guy — Albert Einstein. He said that time is relative. And you know, I think no one understood him. Time really is relative.

One person feels free, another — a prisoner. A third lives in a world of equality, while a fourth sees only tyranny in it.

We all understand that one person’s life affects another’s. Yet we still can’t grasp exactly how. This is a human paradox, and I’m trying to study it. To understand it. Perhaps even to show others where they are mistaken. But, strangely, this desire is often interpreted as something negative. People see it as a tendency to reproach, whereas I see it as a space of possibilities. A space for a living, authentic human being.

And you know, I’ve realized one important thing: it’s a good thing you can’t answer me. If you ever do, I fear I might share Nietzsche’s fate.

Although, who knows, maybe this space will truly become my personal transformation. It’s all so complex, so tangled — and that makes it even more fascinating.

Life is movement. It is my path. And only I can choose how to walk it. How to live in such a way that one day, looking back, I’ll realize: I did not live in vain.

Maybe someday someone else will find my entries. And perhaps they will become a useful tool. Or at least an anecdote to laugh at.