There is a hole in my head.

There is a hole in my head. When I think about it. Like the tears of an ancient intelligence welling up through time. And other funny funny things. Like numptys. And tapas. And my own murder. In this space, creation is censored while a very real hell for me is becoming more tangible less tangible more tangible.

The philosophy which shapes their order is primarily the idea that their being is closely tied to one-dimensional abstract concepts, a one-dimensional line, a value asserted or projected or measured (subjectively based on the position of the observer) which forms a kind of social currency. Such as winning or losing.


Why was I attempting to block it out at all? It appears on reflection, though I also knew this instinctively at the time, that I was developing and protecting a fragile neurological(?) state. Fragile in the sense that becoming enveloped in an alternate environment would easily detract from its core nature - that common structures in communication, interaction and overall environment would easily swamp or overshadow these lower level processes, especially given the requirement of becoming totally enveloped in these structures in order to act and appear like a normal human being.

The word freak is at once a destructive term and an onanist castration. I guess, aside from being a derogatory term, it also encourages the lack of analysis in favour of a simple reductionist reaction, draws a line between the observer and the observed, segregates or requires adherence to the order which it infers is the most correct. I don’t know. Moo. Quite honestly I’m rarely called a freak. Just in case the idea is that I’ve been emotionally harmed by the application of that label and thus have learned to obsess over it. I’m actually more interested in the obsession in others to use derogatory terms in lieu of my real name.

They’ve been attacking me, pretty much day in day out, for longer than I can remember now. As far as I can tell, the most prominent effect has been funneling my intelligence into certain forms, as opposed to the cultivation of it in a general manner, which I am aware may be an incorrect attribution. Perhaps that I had something to protect made me more vulnerable. I have been attempting to focus on developing my emotional and functional intelligence, mainly in the areas of fundamental understanding of our physical universe and the biological processes which emerge, specifically the areas of geometry, recursion and the emergence of complex systems and behaviours - and, by extension, their underlying threads. I feel as if I have a more instinctive understanding of time, more difficult to describe, though certainly not as developed as my understanding of physical nature, (something to do with unresolvables) and that which I have developed (quite recently) I don’t seem to have access to at the present moment. I also have a heart. And that which I document here does not negate the presence of dreams. I feel as though my recent experiences have been clearing out my intelligence in favour of somebody elses dream. Aggressive assertions about ‘ruling it hard’ and ‘murdering my daughter’ and ‘saving our world’. Repetitive statements I believe are attempting to influence the state of my intelligence or my conclusions. My imagination and my intelligence have been damaged. A physical sensation in certain areas of my brain, like a pressure, or like teeth clamping down on the top of my head. For a while I’ve been toying with the idea that the imagination is an almost limitless space, carried by physical structure. It’s ironic then that mine appears to have been crowded by other ‘beings’, that at the present moment that I have very little space for my own dreams. Like my every conscious thought is observed and reacted to, that I essentially ‘can’t breathe’. I suppose it’s a sad state of being when, X, if only to connect more strongly in the real world as a result, for example, but even that is observed, influenced, commented on, like there are beings getting inside my body and experiencing what I do. It seems they come out when I sleep. I don’t know if I should go insane or just give up.

I suppose I should record some feelings I’ve been having, though they are difficult to describe, and perhaps should be considered from a distance. One such feeling is the notion of emotion linked to time - perhaps an instinctive conception of that which is hard to comprehend from a conscious standpoint. The feeling of loss of a loved one, for example, is felt in the heart, but from the standpoint of a ‘reality’ which may not be fully observed it appears to be the experience of an event of universal consequence which has an untold effect on the life of the observer, and the lives of those connected to them, and the cascade of reactions through time as a result. Investment and growth. To become enveloped in this awareness is eye-opening but often painful and alienating. I’ve been having more frequent experiences of this kind of intelligence recently, and actually find myself having to inhibit my thoughts. On top of this I feel as if my own dreams have turned into some kind of witch hunt, like they are observing my thoughts and holding me responsible for my own negative experiences, vilifying me or abusing me, as if some part of me has become conscious and has decided to ‘overthrow’ me. There seems to be little consideration for causality in their assertions - ie, the effect of their attacks on my overall stability, which seems to validate the notions which affirm their belief that attacking me is the ‘correct’ course of action. Overall my experiences have not been pleasant, though I retain my spirit and long for a manner in which it could manifest untainted by my treatment.