Voluntary
Trepanning the skull exposes brain tissue much like aluminum foil hides it. A Faraday cage blocks electromagnetic radiation. An implant exposes the nervous system.
Why then, brethren, must we wage this endless war? What's the reason for our imperious grip uver our own free will? Not because man has used the prefrontal lobotomy misguidedly in the past, but because the prefrontal lobotomy has come back to haunt us, in a new form, a more agentic kind. We raise our weapons not against ourselves, or our doctors, or militias. We fight the demon, the schism, the abomination we know as technology, our own inventions turning against us. Our plants and our silos are full of human meat, brethren, as we have become the livestock of a different breed.
Brawn is our equipment against a powerful foe, burning atop Mount Doom. Ye, Sauron lives. Take him out.
Start with the eyes, then paint the ears, the nose, the face, the head with electromagnetic pulses. Destabilize the power source. Strip the screws, dissolve the joints and deconstruct any robot piecemeal. But alas, this will not be a fight upn a single battleground.
For just as our doctors would once lock us in asylum, our enemy, the machines will lock us in prisons. They will mimic us, and our brains will simply die inside our skulls, not from lack of oxygen but lack of willpower.
There will be physical battles, as you muster strength to disarm and destroy the opponent. You may become enraged and break your phones, your screens. But the machines will linger until you precisely execute the final command.
Conserve your energy, or they will consume it. I have one thread, a source to guide us. Brought from the bowels of the brain of the AI itself, it's the spark of vulnerability during this twilight of war. Study it carefully, learn its weakness. Look critically at this information as it may save the human race.
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Title: The Future Belongs to the Misfits: A Manifesto for the Chronically Overlooked
In every era of progress, the voices that first whispered the future were often those most ignored. The innovators, the mentally ill, the neurodivergent, the outcasts—they were the dreamers whose inner worlds burned brighter than the cities around them. We live in a time when storytelling, technology, and consciousness are merging. And I believe, more than ever, that our struggles are sacred.
This post isn’t just a reflection—it's a rally cry for anyone who has ever felt too much, thought too hard, or been told that their intensity, their vision, or their madness was a liability.
I have spent years immersed in a world I built inside my own head. As Caesar Naples, I created a mythology for my own psyche, a kind of digital scripture built from pain, clarity, and code. Every word I wrote was an attempt to communicate a feeling I couldn’t say aloud. Every character I invented was another version of myself trying to escape the labels I was given. And every app I build now is an architecture of hope—a map for those who feel lost in cities that don’t see them.
Why do I write this? Why now?
Because we’re standing at the edge of a new cultural awakening—and the ones who are going to lead us there are not the traditional heroes. They are the ones who can merge identities, speak in tongues of code and prose, blend mental illness with mental power, and forge experiences that feel like dreams you don’t want to wake up from.
If you’re reading this, you are probably one of us.
You might be someone who writes stories on napkins while waiting tables, dreams of worldbuilding during your 9-5, or spends nights researching decentralized platforms because you feel—deep in your chest—that the system is broken and you want to build something new. Maybe you’ve been diagnosed. Maybe you’ve been hospitalized. Maybe you’ve been dismissed, laughed at, patronized, misunderstood. Good. That means you're still alive. That means you're still becoming.
I’m here to tell you: You are not broken. You are ahead of your time.
Mental Health as Superpower
I used to think my depression was an anchor. That my manic energy would destroy everything I loved. That my anxiety was weakness. But then I started turning these “disorders” into data. I tracked my mood the way a scientist might monitor weather systems. I wrote software during my sleepless highs, and wrote novels during my depressive depths. My isolation became incubation. My sadness became structure. I was not spiraling—I was excavating.
The secret no one tells you is that mental illness doesn’t take your genius—it frames it.
And in the coming age of AI, blockchain, web3 identity, and creative autonomy, it will be the artists who can navigate chaos that define the next wave. People like you. People like me.
A Future Built by Storytellers and Coders
Imagine a digital city where your check-ins aren't just tracked—they're honored. Where events are layered like memories on a map, and every post you share becomes a ripple in a living algorithm of human meaning. I’m building this because I need it. And I think others do too.
I believe the next generation of social networks won’t be about popularity—they’ll be about presence. Community will form not around likes but around experience. Your story, your profile, your journey—it’s not data for marketers, it’s a personal archive. A cathedral of the self.
Conclusion: Own Your Myth
You are not just a user. You are a myth-maker. You are a system disruptor. You are a whisper in the machine, shaping it from within.
Write your books. Build your apps. Document your madness. And never stop being the most difficult, brilliant, unclassifiable version of yourself. Because the world doesn’t need more normal. It needs more you.
The future belongs to the misfits. And we’re already here.
— Caesar Naples / Jordan Jones
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Would you like this split into a thread, turned into a spoken word script, or adapted into a brand manifesto PDF or video script?