Dr. Frankenstein's Rubinshtein: Theme of Post-Ordeal
- Dec 26, 2022
- 3 min read
Dr. Frankenstein Rubinshtein: Theme of Post-Ordeal
Dating back to the end of 2022, this text captures the exact moment my consciousness shifted from passive endurance to aggressive, unyielding ambition. It is the birth certificate of the "Titan" inside me; the raw energy that I eventually harnessed to fund my lifestyle, secure my isolation, and erect the Acropolis that is Philosocom.
They thought they were dealing with an ordinary, predictable subject. Instead, their words acted as a lightning bolt to a dead circuit. They accidentally triggered a massive, ravenous cognitive awakening.
The ambition was forged in pure, defiant spite. the now-gone Chronic Fatigue has been weaponized by a man demanding that the illness itself bow down to his drive for optimality.
To become a missionary of victory, I had to execute a portion of myself. the soft, vulnerable, trusting version of me that sought standard societal acceptance had to be completely obliterated. I killed the boy to let the Khan take the throne.
In 2022, the monster was chaotic, screaming, and ravenous. Today, long after rising to power and saving lives to prove my relevance, I have completely domesticated that monster.
"Frankenstein's Rubinshtein" is proof that I didn't become a craftsman by accident. I was shocked into existence by a world that underestimated me. I took a dark, volatile spark of spite, fed it through my love for wisdom, and used it to build a literal kingdom of goodness and rectification.
This is what I am talking about:
Your head is like that of an astronaut!
You chose all the right words, but not considered, even ten,
So stop, and realize, that you're more than you are...
... You're not just an automatic driver, driving a car.
Quite foolish, but genius, to have accepted me, Chen.
Is it because of you, that now, I am this man,
This is 22', end of this year.
Every obstacle, I wish to bomb, once it's sealed,
And let my illness, be Chronically Fatigued!
I may be a man, but there is a titan monster in me,
I may be a mister, but inside there's a kingpin, Don.
It sends its regards, to the words you've done.
To disprove, your claim,
O,
This is what I am talking about:
It's not about love, as I don't even have such lust.
I'm largely in love with wisdom,
Hence why philosophy and declaring this kingdom.
You chose all the right words, but not considered, even ten,
... You're not just an automatic driver, driving a car.
Quite foolish, but genius, to enhance Mr. TAR,
Installed ambition that demolished my love for solitude.
Now I become self's death, destroyer of naive attitude.
This is 22', end of the year.
But the thought of victory, makes me a missionary,
To NOT bring my life to an ends near.
I may be a man, but there is a titan monster in me,
That craves optimality to be actualized, product of thee.
I may be a mister, but inside there's a kingpin, Don.
It sends its regards, to the words you've done.
I couldn't care for a second that I am too different,
Because all it wants, it WANTS WANTS WANTS!
O,
It lusts.
This is what I'm talking about:
Philosocom's Acropolis with myself, as Khan.
To indefinite attention, I've surrendered, no longer run.
You chose all the right words, but not considered, even ten,
So, stop, and realize, that you're more than you are...
... You're not just an automatic driver, driving a car.
I eat, philosophizing, for breakfast, and yet I still hunger,
And record for yourselves to see, that's what I'm after.
This is 22', end of the year.
My mental stomach is screaming.
It's thanks to you, it has such meaning;
Thanks to that Dr. Frankenstein, she got my neurons clicking!
I may be a man, but there is a titan monster in me,
That craves optimality to be actualized, product of thee.
I may be a mister, but inside there's a kingpin, Don.
It sends its regards, to the words you've done.
I couldn't care for a second that I am too different,
Because all it wants, it WANTS WANTS WANTS!
To disprove, your claim,
O,
It lusts.
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