lmfao

283 posts in this topic

Tuesday 13/04/2020 21:48
Well, did some breath meditation past 2 days. Not today yet. To re-iterate for the 7th time, there is the distinction between something and my impression/image of it. My image of the breath isn't the breath. Iconoclastic tendencies. 

There is the faint impression I have of everything in the world kind of floating in suspension. I am in some "needy" state. Previously described as being like a "zombie". But I'm not sure what I'm judging there. 

My experience feels so bland and empty. Is what I'm calling feeling empty, feeling empty? The role, mediation, flimsiness of language is so confusing. What is semantic, what is not semantic? I'm experience this phenomena again where my mind (habitually?) wants to move in a particular direction in a particular moment, but it feels off and not right. It makes me thinking and the words which I want to use come slower. 

In that particular instance of investigation, worrying about semantics was nothing but a distraction. And tangents like that happen all the time, probably that pattern repeating itself 100's of times over in short time span, but this time I'm writing it out. 

_____
I have this pool of anxiety, worry and fear right now. But I'm still masking it with avoidance and subtle denial. And distraction. Scared to smash open this bottle. 

My health and energy levels are shit, which I find multiplicatively more concerning in light of how much piled up university work I now have:

•••7000 report on dynamics of classical and quantum constrained systems. I still have to finish some of chapter 1 of Dirac, then finish chapter 2. But to understand this all will be a pain. So much extra reading and scavenging. And the mathematics will be a fucking pain in the ass to understand, quantisation of surfaces, quantising the photon field with all of the Hamiltonian garbage, weak equality fucking bullshit.

- What fucking integral bullshit is being added to consider an infinite-dimensional function being minimised, I just fucking can't be bothered. Who knows what fucking magic trick with matrixes is gonna be pulled out of my their ass in this theory. Still need to recap infinitesimal canonical transforms. Who knows how much background reading I'll have to do to understand everything....

•• 50 weeks of content from single modules....And more will be added soon enough at a rate of 4 (because 4 modules) per week after easter over. I have 40 days to catch up on everything before exams. Which means I need to get started at a rate of 2 weeks per day at the very least, and soon. More realistically, I'll enter crunch time with this project then crunch time with my studying

So that's that I guess.... Today I'll get my head down and work on the project. My ideal image is that I would have a diet of just meditation and working, but that would be so exhausting and unrealistic it seems. 

My mum walked in with green juice. I don't need to pre-occupy myself with eating then tonight. Huh, why does taste stinging. She added black pepper, tastes like fruit chaat, smh my head. 


Time to clutter my desk with papers, pens, pencils, and enter crazy hobo looking hermit mode. Maybe practicing body and breath awareness whenever I remember. But basically, I know I have to turn up now, it's crunch time. 

Edited by lmfao

Hark ye yet again — the little lower layer. All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event — in the living act, the undoubted deed — there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike through the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me. Sometimes I think there's naught beyond. But 'tis enough.

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Sat 17/04/2021 11:47
I finally tried to talk to _____  online in the end after dodging it for so long out of fear (Too long a story to explain). This is a situation which opened up my PTSD. I feel unsatisfied from the outcome of it. I don't know what to do about feeling unsatisfied. Before I was fearful on the verge of a panic attack. I still am anxious. But now I'm pissed and annoyed as well. 

I could "take revenge" or act more out of spite. Now I must remember my goal is to ensure I handle being meek and fearful, unafraid to express myself in the future to avoid all these problems to begin with. Now, I don't know whether my inaction to express my anger further in what will look unsightly will be restrained by fear or in seeing how it's futile to do so. 

To ensure I put more finality into addressing my original problem of anxiety, I will express the anger. Better to overcome the fear and be spiteful than to be fearful. Intention to put this demon to rest.

Rather than it being spite or anger though, it's an authentic and innocent, joyful last joke/expression of mine. Press F for _____ hahaha. I will do this at a better time during the day as well if I want this joke to work. Let's set a time for it !!! It's perfect then. Feeling like an evil villain right now and taking glee in it. 

Even if my plan doesn't work or get the results I hope, oh well. At least I tried! Go into it with zero expectations of result, just do it until the bare minimum happens. 

"This is my last war troll!!....LA LA LA LA" 

---
Okay what else do I need to do today. I should contact uni support or something today. Message ___ and ____ as well regarding project progress tomorrow. Probably need to have a meeting with someone. So I'll message that today. That will be easy.  

And I should also have busy days filled with things I want to do on top of what I have to do, and not making so much excuses with my health. Ofc I will know to take it easy, and pick path of less resistance and don't fall into old patterns. Just know that this sloth and anxiety is another pattern. 

I have a lot on my plate but there are some things to do
--
12:55 Alright let me write an actual schedule for things then. Next 45 mins I spend messaging some University contacts. Maybe even contact my tutor as well.

Then I'll set up things on my second account for this troll to work for sure in case of emergency. Maybe even a third account I should do it with? That's maybe too far. Anymore is a waste of my time and excessive. Anyway, I'll set up those logistics in a brief time. Let's give that 20 minutes of planning. And I'll execute the plan maybe 1am or 2am {this is nothing involving actualised.org btw, in case people are worried} 

I'll do some kriya yoga probably then. I haven't done kriya yoga in a while, just breath meditation when I meditate. Maybe I'll end up wanting to take a nap during the day I don't know...

And then after that, unless/until I nap, I'll do my university work. Oh, but maybe I should got for a walk some time today though and go outside. Maybe go outside BEFORE I work. 

18:23 I instead spent 4 hours on a walk in the car. Now because of my sleeping pattern my day probably ends here. Depends when I'll wake up. I might have to do my troll another day or time. And fuck, I'll message the uni peeps after I wake after sleeping now. 

Edited by lmfao

Hark ye yet again — the little lower layer. All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event — in the living act, the undoubted deed — there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike through the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me. Sometimes I think there's naught beyond. But 'tis enough.

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Sun 18/04/2021 09:53
Alright so let me switch off the music first, it's just noise when I play it constantly like this. I woke up at 04:30 after sleeping at 23:00. I couldn't fall back asleep, but my body is groggy. I had some contemplations and things whirling in my mind earlier but now it's vanished into the thick fog in lieu of my sleepiness. 

Too tired to do anything, but I can't fall asleep either. Am I to accept my place and lie here as a starfish? Through will alone am I to attempt increasing my consciousness and let go? Despite torpor and sleepiness being the very things which prevent from concentrating and increasing my consciousness? What's this double bind. 

10:11

So be a starfish if you must, but keep your eyes open. Feel cold, sick and tired, but keep your eyes open. Don't let your distraction be hijacked. Know when to not use your phone and laptop. That alone is enough. 

However you might close your eyes or avert your gaze sometimes anyway. It will happen. Maybe you lose focus for a few moments or for a few lifetimes. Doesn't matter. When you remember again, remember your intention and keep trying. 

Perhaps this is what dhikr means 

Edited by lmfao

Hark ye yet again — the little lower layer. All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event — in the living act, the undoubted deed — there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike through the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me. Sometimes I think there's naught beyond. But 'tis enough.

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Monday 19/04/2021 11:11

I think I often forget the very obvious fact that whatever I'm thinking, I'm indeed thinking and is in my mind. I can get so lost in my thoughts that I imagine the thoughts to be something external to me, but it is in fact here with me.

I think this partially adds something to not procrastinating. It's then somewhat impossible to procrastinate facing my fears and negative emotion, because whatever I'm thinking about and am lost in thought about is already here. The alarm clock is ringing, it's already time. 

Whatever I'm thinking about is indeed already here, in my mind. This is a very important point to realise.

The mental lag between not even realising that your fantasy and bendy maze of mirrors is indeed actually occurring. 

--

The pain in my stomach yesterday was unbelievable. Eating any food sends me into an intense nausea and pain right now. I had this for 1 week several weeks ago, and now I'm having it again.

After I only had 1 meal yesterday, I was so nauseous I was making gagging sounds but no vomit came out. And so I instead forced myself to vomit hoping I would feel better. It hardly helped. I tried eating yoghurt later yesterday, my stomach made lots of sounds and I had the same problem. 

I've been losing weight quickly due to this. This has all been very unpleasant, but at least I'm getting one benefit perhaps. 

I'm gonna be ringing and going to the doctor ASAP, this is all so unbelievably painful and debilitating. I have too many stresses in life as well regarding uni, but I'm now taking steps to face them, god willing. 

My imagery is one of my intestines being all tangled up and tightened. Plus a deep pit of negative emotion and misery. 

This is all going together with all the pressing deadlines I have. I'm gonna have to change my course, I can't just "push through" some of this. Need medical advice and support from uni. 

--

Yesterday was an intense day. When I was feeling extremely low, someone reminded me by mentioning one of my best friends who commit suicide. All that repressed grief came out again. I just erupted crying. I had forgotten about him and had repressed it. Typing this now, I'm tearing up slightly. 

I woke up this morning feeling a lot better. Just briefly, I was feeling great. But then I remembered the events that happened yesterday I felt and the guilt I felt, and this guilt was a very old thing I recognised suddenly coming to the surface. 

It's as though the universe will present me with the same situation again untill I choose differently. And so I've chosen slightly differently. 

But I felt like shit. Saw some other thing which made me feel like shit as well. 

 

And so it is I wonder. What was that sweetness in the morning? Why does any of this have to happen? 

What is my choice now, and is existence + reality a prison on what I can do, where I am predestined to go through all sorts of garbage? 

But why ask such questions? What are such questions? The taoists like to say war is the opposite of reality so as to prescribe how I should align, but if I'm not in a war then what am I in? 

I've had a hope or fantasy that I could terraform and recreate myself. 

Platitudes about Plato's cave are another plateau.? Lmao. 

I'm pruning the ___? Hedges. Ledges like the Freemasons are ___. Praising. 


Hark ye yet again — the little lower layer. All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event — in the living act, the undoubted deed — there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike through the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me. Sometimes I think there's naught beyond. But 'tis enough.

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Sun 25/04/2021 17:03 
This depersonalisation, it is feeling like nothing I am doing (ie with moving my body) or I am speaking is me. Some sort of robot or automatic program is running me but it isn't me doing it. 

It's as though my body and the entire world is moving far, far too quickly. The feeling therefore is guiding me to slowing down and doing less of this automated activity. Becoming aware of whatever program is acting of it's own accord. And to speak or talk or do too much feels discordant. 

Two days ago I thought I somewhat pinned this feeling of depersonalisation to feelings behind my eyebrows in my head. And being mindful of it resulted in random jolts of energy. But ultimately I didn't get far with it.

19:07
Now I'm left feeling irritable and impatient instead. My usual coping strategies and cognition for working failed, and so instead an impatient rage aimed at efficiency has taken over. In some sense I think this needed to come up but to get lost in this would be a mistake.

I shouldn't allow myself to be "run" by this either. Anger is tiring and destructive. So, lets relax. Jumpy and impatient energy still fills me. But those are labels. 

Edited by lmfao

Hark ye yet again — the little lower layer. All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event — in the living act, the undoubted deed — there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike through the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me. Sometimes I think there's naught beyond. But 'tis enough.

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Monday 26/04/2021 14:42
Typing is faster but my best journalling happens on paper. Why? Probably because of association. I use my computer for wasteful activities and to get connected to The Wired (Serial Experiments Lain is such a good show, need to watch more). I use it to set up constant streams of noises and distractions.

What's the mechanism there then? Some sort of way to avoid facing and accepting feeling...I don't know what name to put to it. But it has addictive component as well.

Maybe there'll come a day when typing, the superior format in terms of word speed, starts to appeal to me. But I will always be an analogue>technology man in terms of what I appreciate. I've ranted before about my fear of a world where everything is reduced to 1's and 0's, everything becoming grey, colourless and standardised.

Natural things simply have more character and have a real feeling. I like the sensation of touch of different materials or of dirt. Paper feels better than a Kindle. Real wooden logs>electric VR fire 

Edited by lmfao

Hark ye yet again — the little lower layer. All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event — in the living act, the undoubted deed — there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike through the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me. Sometimes I think there's naught beyond. But 'tis enough.

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Tuesday 27/04/2021, +1 03:55
Just enjoy this moment Mujtaba.

I could die with peace of mind, just like this. This alone is enough.  

AT THIS MOMENT, AT THIS TIME, I'M BACK. IT'S ME. I'M ACTUALLY ME AGAIN. I'm left breathless 

HIROGARU YAMI NO NAKA KAWASHIATTA KAKUMEI NO CHIGIRI 
AISHITA YUE NI MEBAETA AKU NO HANA 
KOREKARA SAKI OTOZURERU DE AROU SUBETE WO 
DARENIMO JAMA SASERU WAKE NI WA IKANA

ITSUKA BOKU GA MISETE AGERU 
HIKARI KAGAYAKU SEKAI WO 


Hark ye yet again — the little lower layer. All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event — in the living act, the undoubted deed — there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike through the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me. Sometimes I think there's naught beyond. But 'tis enough.

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Wed 28/04/2021 23:27
You have to pick an option Mujtaba. Right? Being in Limbo does nothing good. The fear keeps rising and rising, going on and going on. Is there an end?  

Will it keep rising until you do it? It feels like death to do so. If I ask for anyone to hold my hand, wouldn't that defeat the entire point of the fear I'm facing? But if I do it, will there be any bounds? Will it be transcended? Will I be fearful and facing those fears my entire life?

Perhaps I should deliberately visualise and bring up my fear of death and my worst fears, and keep surrendering and surrendering. Sounds idealistic but idk, something like that might be worth it as a meditation.

I feel as though the pressure cookers are on max setting. If there was ever a time to cut out all the useless shit and distraction I'm doing, it would be NOW

Edited by lmfao

Hark ye yet again — the little lower layer. All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event — in the living act, the undoubted deed — there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike through the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me. Sometimes I think there's naught beyond. But 'tis enough.

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Friday 30/04/2021 +1 02:53
Just do this from the comfort of bed, no paper. What would becoming directly conscious or figuring out these different things mean? I was feeling cold in my room, so I tried paying attention to it. I took off my shirt to make myself colder. 

I was in physical pain and tension, that was my cue to porn. My physical pain was what I could tell was driving me. I perhaps could have stopped myself, but I went through it anyway because I wanted the pain to go. So I used it as a pain killer for my body aching. My libido wasn't large, I just wanted to alleviate the pain.
But after doing it, I honestly didn't feel much different. But some body aches did alleviate for sure. Some particular thing which I can't verbalise got tired from it though.

"What's the alternative? Are you just supposed to sit through the pain and suffer?" Well. That's true except for the word "just" there. It would be paying attention to my experience. I'm still figuring this all out. 

What's the point or where would direct conscious even lead to? "As far as I can tell there's only the task in front of you. Do that a million times and then you drop dead". However there's some added charge/connotation. 

So what's the approach to take to my various addictions then? Been a while since I did openness. I have no plan. Is that a mistake? I can't predict what will be discovered. 

I'm kinda mellowed out rn and tired with not much content to inquire. Thirsty though and tense. I feel intensely bored. Will I be able to sleep right now? No. Work? No, can't look at computer screen for too much longer, hurting eyes. 

Perhaps I will just lie down, with nothing to do but fantasise and laze. Maybe I can just pay attention to my body, relax as if I was floating hypnotically. Maybe I'll sleep then. 


Hark ye yet again — the little lower layer. All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event — in the living act, the undoubted deed — there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike through the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me. Sometimes I think there's naught beyond. But 'tis enough.

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Tuesday 04/05/2021 16:27
How can I ever figure out what's true? The words "what's true?" and everything spoken is a thought, only a subset of all experience. What's the significance of everything that's written or spoken being a thought? 

It drives me crazy. What even is the self, every time you look at yourself it's as though one is created. What even is my body, and how am I moving It? 

Does asking "What's true?" even have any meaning? How can anything have any meaning? I ask what is true (what object or statement or thought or thing has the quality of "true") but I haven't asked what is "truth" itself. 

I am unhappy and wish to seppuku. 

Feel the jolt awake. Create it. So where does that put my thinking? ughhhhdisugjhfi. This is severely distressing apparently despite no sensations or accompanying physical sense of pain or tension, phantom pain and distress. My thoughts and emotions are slower for some reason, but this is still uncomfortable. Mind panicked that itself and everything is meaningless. 

Shit, dead end. 

No, it's not a dead end. 1) Don't worry so much about conveying literal meaning into words, very deeply ingrained. Worried about whether other people can understand you. Also worry about accuracy (assumptions of language containing truth) 2) It's not a dead end there just isn't the rhythm for the direction, let your mind move on. 

Edited by lmfao

Hark ye yet again — the little lower layer. All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event — in the living act, the undoubted deed — there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike through the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me. Sometimes I think there's naught beyond. But 'tis enough.

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Wed 06/05/2021 +1 05:39
What are the anchors of sanity that I've lost, and what can I gain? It's pointing wrong however, "maybe I can reverse this".

I am comfortable or fine with my own physical death, but this is incomplete or off. My indifference towards my own death seems to be due to hating life and finding it hard. Oscillations between ambition and indifference. I can't work out what this indifference is. It's me saying "I can't" rather than "I won't" it seems. And so I then subtly aline my life with my own self destruction.

Despite the "negative" indifference however, the "insanity" is still a strength. It's not insanity, that's just a label. Framing it like that is off. 

But I'm not fine with anything, and I'm not fine with death. For if that was really true, why does the thought of certain things flood me with fear I avoid?  Yes, you can handle the fear. That's the key thing to realise. For even if my worst fears concocted in my mind actualised, it wouldn't matter, I could handle it. 
Perhaps then my indifference to my own death could take on a different form. 

"Do you have the grit to sit through all the pain and emotion?". You'll be using the computer, but you have a really bad eye strain and head ache it. But to distract yourself from it, you keep using the computer. But the more and more you consume, the worse and worse the pain gets. Likewise, will my pain not intensify until I am able to pull the plug on distraction? You may finish Akagi at a reasonable pace. And vote at the AGM. 

I've seen a few of these impressions and forms come up many times before. Will I learn otherwise? Will I relate to them differently.

The options appear limited. The paradigm of forcing discipline in that particular manner doesn't work. What I'm doing there is putting pressure on the arising/future. Weaving and pushing the slinki (black plane) to occupy space on the right/forwards. Occupying all the space there is a god awful idea and contortion.
Unsure what bending left/backwards mean in this analogy if there is one. I don't feel one.**

What are my options? I see one perhaps. Give up on fantasies of health and improvement, and instead work with the real. Give up on all fantasies and strict standards about what's "grounded" to adhere to as well. Give up your out of control worrying and ambition, let it be.

Actually fuck it, none of that made any sense, and this whole conversation was for nothing.

--
None of my problems were due to the digital. But this dry mouth and thirst, that was the problem. Yes. I can feel myself almost transported, yes to my childhood. But beyond that bubble I cannot go back any farther. There is nothing for me to see or have to know there beyond that, perhaps. Perhaps there is nothing else to know.

You know about the heat, thirst, ordinary childhood, ordinary people, the madrasah, the slight boredom, the ordinary joys and annoyances. What else do I need to know about my past? It is not exactly thus? The ordinary friends, the ordinary adults at St A____s, your ordinary father, BBC News, playing Badminton, going to the Park.

Your friends at school, bullies at school. Your loving father and mother. Your loving siblings. Your overactive and hilarious mother, playing on the wii, sitting in the hot conservatory, sitting in the cold conservatory. Watching Friends, watching Cartoon Network, watching Fosters Home for Imaginary Friends. Watching Big Brother. Playing in the Garden. What else? 

What else did I need? What else was there to do? Do I need anything else at all? I could simply die and fallaway exactly thus, and it wouldn't matter in the least bit. I could die with order, in this unchanging human-ness. A simple life

Everything's changed, but nothing at all changed. I am ordinary. And exactly thus. 
--
This is your sense of ordinariness Mujtaba. However, that may not be the complete story. It is simple the reunion of all the different versions, images and perceptions of you. This is meshed in with a sudden flood of Si. "A self is constructed every time you look at yourself"

Speaking of mental locations your mind visits. How long have you been imprinted in Uncle Memon's house? For such a long time now, you've hd the same image stuck in your mind of your own death and future. Why are images of Karl Marx and communism imprinted there? You see yourself split between cradle and death like a bowling split, it was all over in the blink of an eye.
Image of lying outside in the grassy garden in the breeze, and fading to black like that. 

It must be some strange mixture of my depersonalisation and Si flooding which leads me to have the perception/illusion that I'm having freaky probings and reunions with all past and future versions of me. My attempts to rationalise it or give it words usually seems to get detoured. I understand visions of the past but it's the future element which is weird as well. My brain will hurt if I try to explain


The spiders web/prison of memory and impressions is here. And it all started from feeling this thirst in my mouth. From this thirst, I was transported into 6 year old me, sitting in the hot car and being thirsty. Memory is a bitch. Fuck this boring shit. What will it take to get these chains off of me. The chains of memory and karma are bothersome.

It doesn't help that my impressionistic and symbolic thinking knows no bounds in rumination. Any second now I could burst into an obsession with threads of hair, insects and embryos in visual impression. And then freak out about how trees and nature are alive on that super slow rhythm. 


** Maybe this is what happens when the worm bends left, answered my own fucking question. Congratulations Muj. Fuck the worm, fuck the black plane, fuck right, fuck left, fuck that entire dumb shit. I made the whole thing up, this is all a thought stream of nothing

"Tornado mind", obsession with that past label of mine is more tornado mind.  It's been 9 months bro, stop ruminating over those memories. 

Edited by lmfao

Hark ye yet again — the little lower layer. All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event — in the living act, the undoubted deed — there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike through the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me. Sometimes I think there's naught beyond. But 'tis enough.

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Thursday 06/05/2021 +1 10:03
I wasted too much time chattering. I should have only replied to the messages of my friend talking to me about Christianity.

 

I have always had the urge for curse words and colourful language, but I restrain myself out of fear. "They're asking me to commit to a giant lie. When the naked emperor looks into my eyes and asks me to tell him how good his suit looks, I can only say n1gger".

There is no reason or justification needed. People who are deeply afraid of language and taboos are acting out programs, they are regurgitating someone else's ideas.* I call everything and everyone n1gger. As I do with retard and fagg0t. 

*I am full of programs as well, regurgitating and mimicking someone else's ideas and principles.  The foolishness of other people and the outside world is unlimited. If you believe in it, you'll forever be the slave of something
--
Fear over being authentic or honest. Habit of not expressing or verbalising feelings and thoughts as they happen.

Remember to go the full way though. Honesty means honesty all the way. I wonder if there's such thing as "authentic dishonesty" or "authentic liar". Those are funny conundrums to contemplate. 

Edited by lmfao
Annoying word filter

Hark ye yet again — the little lower layer. All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event — in the living act, the undoubted deed — there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike through the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me. Sometimes I think there's naught beyond. But 'tis enough.

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Monday 10/05/2021 +1 09:42
Love and Kindness alone isn't the answer, but it sure as hell is powerful. It's how you remain centred and to heal? Maybe I'm wrong about "it" not being the answer. Whatever the case, it's at least a great place to operate from. 

Very fed up of straining, "forcing and not going with the flow". But I refuse to give up my quest for understanding just cause I may start to discover the heart. Not gonna give up on "deconstruction", just because níggers like Sadhguru or David Hawkins recommend you transcend yourself by making yourself a stage blue bitch.

I get it already. Your Fe vagina is huge and warm, and you've found your purpose in being subservient and cleaning old people's poop. That's one way to distract yourself until you die. 
[We get it already. Your Ti dick is huge and sturdy, and you've found your purpose in being a contrarian faǵ who dispels people's illusions]

Truth or no truth. Love is great. Perhaps it's more powerful than everything else you run on? 

Despite how tempting that way of being a submissive nun and caretaker looks, it's not for you.

 

Hahahaha Those were all roles you played! You played them like a fool, but perhaps it was good fun? It was good fun. Personality and times may change, but humour is eternal.

So relax. You needn't get caught up in people's bullshit and taboos, e.g. where they believe that seeing the word nígger is a psychological mind attack. Alongside all other manner of empty rhetoric and sophistry. 

Cursing and brash with everyone. "At times it's vindictive, but most of the time it's playful fun" - I am beyond such justifications, and simply am. 

And if someone says they're hurt? There's no pre-planned response. Perhaps if I see honesty or realness in the other person, extend grace. 

All these perceptual filters and programs the average person runs on. They talk in "category" and mistake that for using words. 

--

There's a reason you stopped being so nice. And you still haven't figured out yourself yet because of that. And that's something interesting. 

Whether you're nice or not nice, love. Love, love, love. 

AND SLOWLY......

YOU COME TO REALISE

Edited by lmfao

Hark ye yet again — the little lower layer. All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event — in the living act, the undoubted deed — there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike through the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me. Sometimes I think there's naught beyond. But 'tis enough.

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Tuesday 11/05/2021 +1 01:30
Man, what will it take for this dissociation fog to lift? I'm not sure I even understand it anymore. I look at the world, and it doesn't seem real. It's dreamlike.
Why am I not psychotic instead? If I was capable of psychosis surely I'd have got it already? Who knows. I'm somewhat insane, but not in the psychotic variety. 

 What is my DPDR? Get tangible and grounded now. Well, it feels different. There is no space for thought if you try to focus on it 


Hark ye yet again — the little lower layer. All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event — in the living act, the undoubted deed — there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike through the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me. Sometimes I think there's naught beyond. But 'tis enough.

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On 12/05/2021 at 5:46 AM, Vision said:

What are the differences between DPDR and Enlightenment? 

@Vision I can't draw lines between these things, I can only ramble. It makes no sense for me to, I can't. I will borrow Leo's analogy of dials on consciousness for later. 

Trauma and anxiety is thought to be a variable involved in DPDR often. People with DPDR are typically metaphysically existential, perhaps due to their altered state of consciousness. Maybe you can also draw the arrow of causality reversed or double sided partially though (e.g. perhaps questioning reality leading to anxiety maybe) 

I couldn't tell you how long I've had "DPDR" verses not had it, so it might be moot to make a lot of statements about it (ie contrasting it to no DPDR). Since I can only talk from my own consciousness .
My earliest mystical experiences happened when I was 12, I've had a double whammy of crises in faith with my world turned upside down , discontinuities and black-outs in perception/identity, little connection to my past or past self. 

DPDR; The world seems unreal and dreamlike, but also foggy and somewhat visually distorted at times. And it isn't only the world which is affected, so is your self and mind affected. DPDR can feel like hell.
Your ego and self may be a bit more loose than the average person, but you're still in Maya, and what you instead experience from this disarray is suffering.

DPDR has a large brain fog component often, and you struggle to concentrate on anything.

With DPDR, there is sometimes the feeling you are watching "yourself" but yourself is a robot/film/program which isn't you.

I look at myself in the mirror, it feels very strange.
--
In regards to the hidden "trauma". When DPDR gets at it's most intense and suffering, my monkey mind of thoughts, emotions and imagination are so powerful and overtake my mind that I almost blackout. I lose so much awareness of the outside world, as my mind just produces such powerful images that engulf my awareness. 

It's like blackouts due to getting lost in and abruptly switching between thoughts, emotions, outside world, imagination ; A disjoint and lateral mess.


My most recent (several months ago) biggest mystical experience however happened in relation to dials on my consciousness which DPDR touches. 
Somehow I was just sitting outside in my garden contemplating and it happened. I saw for a fact that everything is Nothing, and that my true nature is immortal. I saw that dying was impossible, because you can't kill Nothing. It was certain.

But then the dial kept turning up painfully. The ungrounding increased and increased, reality just increasedly felt more and more dreamlike in substance. And instead of "blacking out" it felt more like "whiting out". It felt painful. 


TLDR: For analogy, we might say DPDR and enlightenment touch dials which are near each other, or maybe sometimes touch some of the same dials. But those differences between them can mean the world, whether you describe the differences as big or small . "Heaven and Hell are a tenth of an inch apart"

Perhaps the smallest of dx distinctions and nudges can be the difference between rambling anxiety and insanity such as this and crisp enlightenment. Or perhaps not, since everything I'm typing is not but a story
---
Serial Experiments Lain was a really good anime, the vibes of it are very DPDR. The way things are disjointed and things don't make sense. Time, past, identity and location being in a postmodern non-linear shambles 


When it comes to things like my brain fog and not being grounded in my body, those are things I wish to work in. But it's hard, and part of the ungroundedness from "reality" might just be my temperament and have spiritual connections 

Edited by lmfao

Hark ye yet again — the little lower layer. All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event — in the living act, the undoubted deed — there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike through the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me. Sometimes I think there's naught beyond. But 'tis enough.

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Friday 14/05/2021 11:05
After a charged conversation with my dad, something in my unconscious awoken. So I'm glad something happened. I feel as though I've discovered some sort of highly selfish, emotional but also very cold/mean core. It's like I'm conscious and in contact with some sort of black orb/hole inside of me.

It feels so uncomfortable though, and I don't know why. It's making me stressed, agitated, upsetting my gastrointestinal track further.  I'm just glad to have discovered this hidden thing, but I've been unwilling to examine it or let it go.

I'm clinging onto the image of discovering a black orb. It's a energy of linear selfishness and coldness. So in a sense, extremely not complicated. 

Controlling and domineering tendencies. But, those tendencies are unnatural, they make me feel physically ill to be in contact with. I feel no love or heart right now. 
--
I'm glad to have made this discovery. And because of that, I'm unwilling to let go of my images and preconceptions. But I think I can become willing of that. 
And now I have to be willing to surrender to these uncomfortable sensations. Its so fucking painful. Holy shit 

The uncovering and presence of this dark orb was what I've been motivated and acting towards. What the hell is it? What's this dark orb and unconsciousness about? What's this selfishness and impulsiveness about? 

It all feels linked to me discovering my shadow through meditation from that day. Radical honesty, authenticity, all these things. 

It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts.


For a very long time I've admired the psychopathic and joker archetype characters and modes of being. Admiring authenticity and not giving a fuck about what other people think. Is this the karma from that? Am I paying for my sins, for I wished and admired the selfish, and am now becoming the evil?

Don't kid yourself Mujtaba. Who cares if God is punishing you if it's all a hologram.That said, I absolutely know this is linked to my life long prayer and fantasy to become authentic like that. This is a junction, a reaping or uncovering of something I wished upon to become actual. 

This black core is so extremely painful, but maybe this is the time to step into it. I'm ready for that. I'm starving and hungry, sleep deprived, moody, agitated, on the verge of mentally exploding, but you can open anyway. 

Edited by lmfao

Hark ye yet again — the little lower layer. All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event — in the living act, the undoubted deed — there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike through the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me. Sometimes I think there's naught beyond. But 'tis enough.

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Friday 14/05/2021 +1 01:34
I'll stop clinging to the black. I really don't know why I was doing it. It was curiosity, and just the program. Voluntarily descending myself in this manner isn't the way. Being impulsive, mean and harsh is a waste of energy. It is pettiness and hyper (ego?) sensitivity. 

There is more yet to understand about it. I labelled my endeavour of contacting that "dark" as "becoming more conscious of". Which first of all, I don't really know what that means, and I shan't equivocate with pre-sumption being more conscious to becoming possessed by some obsession or meme. But that's what I've been doing a bit. 


I am very not okay with this dark black hole feeling of misery. But when my contact with it started to fade, I got scared and wanted to contact with it again. I then deliberately masturbated to hardcore porn of sadistic taste to bring to surface those same feelings stronger again, and it worked. 

But overall, I have no clue what I'm trying to do or what's going on. And that's the thing to see, that I'm just going along with some patterns and memory. In some sense, I was trying to erect a 2nd ego bubble of perception, one which is more mean. 


This little dark orb I've discovered, it's so weird. Maybe it's great I've discovered something, but I don't feel like that. I fear it's power may consume me. Maybe that's why I made it "unconscious" to begin with. 

With the dark orb in your hands, the ball is completely in your court. Now that you can feel this thing, what do you want to do? Predicting the future is impossible. One hand can't clap. 

Seeing the pain without getting lost in fantasy or turning away is what's hard


Hark ye yet again — the little lower layer. All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event — in the living act, the undoubted deed — there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike through the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me. Sometimes I think there's naught beyond. But 'tis enough.

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Human interaction and events are inherently chaotic and misshapen and non-fitting. Thinking, thinking, I'm tired of fucking thinking. I'm tired of thinking. To hell with low IQ rationalists and unimaginative dullards, get with it or get the fuck out. Let me fuck bitches get money and live in peace. 

"Thinking has never done me good"-the sentence's function is to express the current truth and feeling. But pernickety faggots will always say "oh but that's no true"....blah blah blah, no fucking shit you retarded nígger. 

When two people are together and interact, it is quite literally a matter of instantaneous chemistry. And when the jigsaw doesn't fit you reroute, maybe repeat yourself or instead go in circles, or something. But it's all so fucking slow.

After observing my family and humans for long enough this should have been apparent to me. All my contentions to observations of them were in sense bullshit and too complicated. 


Humans who are in mutual agreement over a topic will still bicker and bicker. 1: "Oh why yes, I was just saying that because I saw you were XYZ. Oh and don't get the wrong idea, and I dont mean ABC, and I can see you're DEF" , 2: "Yes that's right, I am DEF, but I was reacting with GHI earlier because I perceived you were being ABC. But that's just my perception, and maybe it was wrong , Insert more gibberish" ....  Then person 1 continues this shit anyway , 1: " Look, I was trying to just comment on the XYZ, why are you so defensive". And then person 2 keeps the rally going

People in agreement still manage to talk in circles and circles. Emotions and arguments are like that, I'm like that. Life is like that. Emotions-thoughts are like quantum electron cloud forms which dynamically change shape. Overlap; no now it's collapsed;  wavey and hovering the next moment
And then at the root of it, fueling all those machinations is a dog forever chasing it's own tail.

Now time to study for my retarded exams
--
This rage is naught but an attack against myself ,my overreaching and stale mind. An attack against my previous modes and formulations. An attack against a life wasted due to second guessing. 

Ironic that my mind and thinking should be hyper active. Was intensifying and intensifying. *exhaling noise*.

Whenever I'm writing on paper, I wish I could just make some system of markings and symbols to save time writing words, and to format and contextualise things efficiently. Always used odd symbols and markings, triangles, squares, using the margin, dashed lines.....but maybe if I found some way to just use it all well. 

That way, I could actually animate and get in the flow. Then I would feel like making my notes, my process, is alive and flowing. A proclivity for impatience and hastiness can be my strength. 

When my brain is hyperactive and chaotic, I get impatient and give up the task of writing. Calm down a bit, without entering some lazy full mode of torture. 

Edited by lmfao

Hark ye yet again — the little lower layer. All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event — in the living act, the undoubted deed — there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike through the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me. Sometimes I think there's naught beyond. But 'tis enough.

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cup.png

THE BEST IMAGE IN TELEVISION HISTORY. 

I coom.
I thought to myself "I have unfinished business" and BOOM. I remember this. His unfinished glass

Walt was about to give up. But then he saw the interview with Gretchen and Elliot. And he got up for one final Act. And what an act it was.
--
I thought I was almost fine with the decision to be mellow/warm/content, but I'm not. I have unfinished business and there's a sense in which ambition implies dissatisfaction. This pattern has played out a few times for me. But it shouldn't be an excuse for me to go about things in the exact same way and get burned.

In my happy go lucky mode, I'm somewhat ignoring or not addressing my deep problems or discomfort. But. I can reach a better balance between extremes of hardcore mentality vs happy go lucky.

Choice of words is irrelevant. All I know is that my Act isn't over yet. I was ready to cease my ambition, but I perhaps I won't do that exactly

It's a balancing act. And like I said, the way I've done things until now is unsustainable and lacks wisdom 

Edited by lmfao

Hark ye yet again — the little lower layer. All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event — in the living act, the undoubted deed — there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike through the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me. Sometimes I think there's naught beyond. But 'tis enough.

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