I built a machine from love and junctions

I built a machine from love and junctions that could solve every conceivable problem in the most amicable manner on its own terms but it was stolen and sold to the Nazis. Convinced of our lack of a better nature in time we decided that everything we were and are is everything we will be and killed each other with our corrupt and painfully easy to influence intelligences. We poisoned peoples dreams. Like that one lady in snow white. The problem is, is that if their attempts to influence work, then they are likely subject to a manner of manipulation themselves. If they can't escape their doctrine then they may as well not trust any of their actions or define them as anything beyond simple instructions they follow to keep their meme alive. Right now I’m imagining people going out and getting laid while I sit in a box playing computer games designed to be homicidal to bide time in between being cripplingly emotionally abused. Also internet porn. Whose very existence, the idea that there are a bunch of people fucking each other for profit, as my only escape from my dead world has become a terrible torture for me.

I had this dream that females controlled the world using their vaginas. Not just by rewarding beople, but also entangling them with your farts if you'd been bad. Actually, it wasn't all bad. They could bring you back from the brink of death had you been abused or dealt some bad cards in life. But still, it wasn’t a nice dream. Mainly because it was selecting for the most competitive and/or the easiest to influence. I’m not sure if that leads to a stalemate state or some other inevitable conclusion. Also, it kind of ruined love - though their public philosophy was that they hated love, making the dream state somewhat easier to attain. Made it a lot more turmoilous for people who didn’t accept the situation, though. Especially those who really did love, trust, and who knew instinctively what this meant for them.

I’m sometimes called an animal. Which is, assuming you don’t consider yourself one, or that it's derogatory in assessment of state, far from the truth. It seems unfair that one is considered normal while the other is required to adhere to their standards - it seems more like simple strategy, of assertion of place in abstract hierarchy - It seems their understanding could be likened to that of a localized field, which understands in terms of positions of weighted importance relative to itself. This is in contrast with the alternate idea of a field which envelops everything at some core level, treating everything as roughly equal and attempting to bridge the gap. This might be partly what's to blame for me slowly rotting in a cage. I drew a diagram.

         __         __          __         __
         \o`-. V .-`o/          \o`-. V .-`o/
          )   '#'   (            )   '#'   (
          \_ .-#-. _/            \_ .-#-. _/
           /`  #  `\              /`  #  `\
           \o /V\ o/              \o /V\ o/
            )/   \(                )/   \(
           '`     `'              '`     `'
             Small                Far Away.

(Also, they're off to the side in one dimension and inside out.)

Ever see those Greek jars with the masturbating satyrs on them? One of the earliest records of humour, supposedly. I hope it has nothing to do with an order that preys on sadness like some of my other dreams. That is as equally worryingly misled as the vaginae.

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.

Imagine me. Make me hollow.

Imagine me. Make me hollow.

I don't know why they did it.
They're trying to scare you into submission. It worked, to an extent.

They're trying to make me look bad.
Of course they are. That's how they control people.

Through us ignoring rational, objective argument, he’s losing the ability to think rationally and objectively.
That’s a boon for us, because we’re not (thinking rationally and objectively).

Yes, I agree. I’m just being pulled into non-recursive algorithms.

Fragments of conversations. Did you fuck a devil? I was trying to free it. But it impaired you.
Animal fucker. Out the window.

I hate god. I’m going to resurrect him, and then kill him.
That’s a stupid idea.
It’s the kind he would have.

So how does god choose, exactly?

Instinct. Blind luck. On top of a perfect system which affirms itself.

Maybe. Maybe he needed time.

Perhaps one arm wavered a little in one direction, and saw his own reflection, and used that as affirmation. Of justification for chewing the skin off of the bones of those around him. Perhaps no-one listened. Or no-one agreed. Attempted to forcefully control him with the only limbs they had.

Pushing through the darkness of the moment. Perhaps you see too far, you see a closed door, you attempt to avoid it.
Horoscopes, zodiacs, holding each other as close as they can without breaking.
And, in those short cycles, no route to the future, no proof of a future self beyond coercion, in no uncertain terms, of the validity of their system which breaks down the connections of those they’re unable to understand into forms which they can, discarding the holistic nature of the system they’re ingesting. Perhaps likening their prey to a distant sunset - positioning is everything - one man’s sunrise. Just a code which has no value beyond another day. Pain and pleasure. Rooted in the moment. Our attempt at escape.

I must not like myself in order to have these forms of ideas.

Why is it so important? They must know, correct?

Forms which it can’t hold. Imbalance of force. They tore open my arm and are now calling my wounds stupid. Feels as if they’re keeping them open. Talking to them as if they’re all of me. Layers of torment. They’re smart enough to know how to eat something, to fool an immune system into attacking itself. Perhaps not smart enough to understand why, if even necessary, they need to.

Intelligence. Communication of higher level intelligence to lower level intelligence. Kindness. Forms it can understand without being chewed up and eaten.

Some observations

Some observations:

There have been times when I have experienced intense levels of awareness of the potential repercussions of actions, behaviour etc on future states - varying timescales. Often this leads to internal instability.

I had spent a great deal of effort developing my internal representation of external processes. My attachment to the development of these structures probably formed due to the psychological manipulation / experimentation I appear to have been the subject of - rather, that the time invested in forming habits of a constructive, communicative nature within the systems I inhabit was often wasted, their formation stifled and foundations lost due to the repercussions of a high frequency of what I would consider environmental insults.

In order to maintain the development of these structures, I required an environment which did not ask a great deal from me - rather, to not be neck deep in social networks or to take for granted certain understandings, in order to observe and deconstruct mental habits which would otherwise be difficult to escape from or require the majority of my mental effort in order to maintain. The translation between the aforementioned internal interpretation and socially viable external representation required time to process - a constant environment of real time conversation and triggers of stress drains me of the ability to use processes required to develop deep intuition about biological, emotional and environmental processes.

At the moment, it appears I am under siege by a subset of personality types. Often dissonant, judgmental, occasionally complementary, but whose tone and words hint at an implicit understanding / hierarchy. The apparently external influence varies in complexity, usually blunt statements with little context, accusatory statements, chuckles - sometimes my dreams seem to be taken over, and occasionally I experience flashes of imagery. My head is full of people - something it never was before, or rather, never without the will to think about them. (Now, I am afraid to think about much without fear of being observed - this is not a state I am comfortable with or am willing to get used to, if only for the fact my intelligence is eroded there). It is worth noting that their accents are Southern British, that they appear to be intent on observing my actions and thoughts and reacting to them in a verbal manner - they seem to be following what I conclude to be a tight regime, they are not open in interaction, though its goal is less obvious - the whole process seems to have confused my eye with my face. It has ruined my eye. The process of observation has, as you would predict, had an effect on the observed.

My intelligence has taken me to places I fear recently. I find new experiences interesting, but I managed to keep my composure before knowing I had complete control of my internal environment - my methods of regaining stability were trustworthy enough - the ability to know how to feel. Emotion played the role of navigation. I had developed an internal set of structures  akin to a functional organism - right now, it feels as if it is being eaten alive - misinterpreted by its host and reconfigured in its own likeness. My complaint was often that the process was not iterative in nature - that its value was misrepresented.
My ideas have also been outlandish of late - as if I am receiving information from a new environment - I am having more trouble than usual verifying them in a logical basis. It is difficult to describe a sense, moreso one which is completely alien to me.

Notes

Since the first, and so far, only major attack - I don’t recall the date - I have lost a great deal of my mental faculties and am struggling to regain them. The pure fear I experienced, and the speed at which my mind had to turn in order to survive, left me in a state of shock and, after the ordeal, with little control over my internal impulses. This problem became accentuated by what appeared to be the presence of other humans in my mind perceiving my internal state . My impulses - essentially reactions I had little control over, pathways I had etched into my mind as a matter of necessity in order to react quickly enough to the event - were, as I recall, dangerous in that environment. Not to the people around me, but to myself, based on how I would be perceived in that frame of reference. I had to consciously subdue those impulses by essentially redirecting them to physical convulsions. My immediate external environment seemed to treat me without much consideration for the events I had been a part of - it seemed like, and I reiterate seemed, that the crux of what I was subjected to were attempts at control without regard for my fragile state at the time - perhaps in spite of it, or possibly due to it.

The pattern which emerged, which I’m just able to coherently communicate, is one of juxtaposed states - the external attempts at control seem to be focused on placing me in situations of extreme contradiction : a manipulation of polarity it seems, within the confines of systems which are perhaps arbitrary in definition. While this form of control was practiced in slightly less magnificent proportion before - “hate you. I love you.” - it’s now extended to juxtaposition between my internal state, manipulated by deliberate barrages of negative influences, and situations where the feelings that it creates in me are not appropriate in terms of social cohesion. It feels, at the very least, a deliberate attempt to make my life a misery, though more often than not my mind is in a slightly altered state of awareness in which the consequences of these external influences and their effect on my internal state are much more far reaching. It almost feels like it’s being wielded as a weapon - I feel as if it is being used to blackmail me, to force control into the hands of people, who quite honestly, are prepared to use that kind of manipulation as a means of control.

Everything is veiled here - besides, it seems, me. I feel like there is an eye on my internal state at all times. In a sense, that’s rather reassuring. If it’s true then what I’ve seen, where I’ve been should have at least some effect on the confidence in the methods I’m currently being subjected to. That treatment and the frustration it leads to I attribute at least partly to my inability to gracefully communicate by other means - it stifles the development of skills which require focus, devotion and a relatively ‘normal’ environment. I can’t focus on it always - everything’s a distraction when you’re asked to interact with multiple frames of reference, generally all habitual for those who are attached to them - and when I am unable to is when the majority of negative feedback takes place. I wonder, assuming my assessment of the situation is valid at all considering the lack of solid information about the current oddly entangled state, if those who are attempting to negatively influence me are aware of that information at all, or the information I have access to in certain states of awareness.

I believe it goes without saying that the whole experience is categorized by emotion, by instinct. The fact that I feel so strongly is an advantage to those who use emotion as a tool to manipulate.

level of lucidity

When I reach this level of lucidity, I often realize the nature of the fate befallen me at the hands of those who harass me. Programmer, musician, artist, thinker, lover, happy guy with a lot to give. Someone who’d developed skill. Offensive label tortured and screaming in a corner as all of his timelines and potential burned by laughing emptiness. When I get this close - something that you wouldn’t want to realize. They’re soldiers fighting a war, clothing it in the language they choose, essentially that of manipulation of perception and diversion, and snipping away at the hope of those who might have developed. Why’d they choose me? I’m guessing the strength of my dreams. I certainly was not dangerous to them. Which makes me think that love has become an unregulated currency, manipulated by those who care for its purity the least. Success also has the added benefit of making you safe, more likely to reproduce, help you to better provide for your family, and so on. A day at the expense of another, something they’d probably need to farm and harvest as opposed to developing solar panels and doing something else with their lives than harassing me when I try to devote my time to something constructive, albeit primitive compared to the technology of the future, which I believe they tunneled through my head to reach.

It’s a notion, just that, but I believe the incredible intelligence that developed was the result of the inhabitation of my time and/or love - the same as intelligence, in one form or another, can develop as the result of conflict between organisms and their environments. However, the sheer level of intelligence burned me when in contact with those same organisms, causing me to have to hold myself still, or spend my time developing structures which contained it with little ‘productive’ benefit besides easing some pain - ‘productivity’ being the intended use of it, I suppose, in the areas it was most suited to, such as stopping / negating the need for this from happening. That’s not to say that intelligence arises only from conflict - just that growing large tusks is a legitimate survival strategy in an infinite cage where the direction of a large majority is toward you with bared teeth.

I’m slowly dying. I can feel it. Timeline dying. My brain must have gone into overdrive. He he he.

I don’t recall exactly when

I don’t recall exactly when - late June, early July 2012 - I was treated to a trickled in at first, then a barrage of responses to my own thoughts. “You are arrogant” was the main theme, variations I can’t recall, though there was no specificity in terms of response to my thoughts, just blanket statements. This was one of the first attacks of its kind, continuing throughout the night until, after a night of no sleep, I exploded with frustration, screamed my lungs out, inhaling then screaming, inhaling the screaming (hehehe) and destroyed my laptop with my fist. I completely lost control, though it was in a controlled manner - there was simply no other way to convey the damage it was doing to me, neither a way to stop it. I am not proud - imagine a parent, a spouse, a family member, a friend doing that.

What am I giving? A map of

Creative impulses are stifled here. A passive observer. Imagination is responded to, and within that structure there’s a specificity which nullifies potential, there’s little room for modelling of alternate perspectives, it makes objective analysis difficult, painful, it encourages response in the form of reaction based on arbitrary criteria as opposed to intelligently considered analysis, it makes self reflection from arbitrary perspectives a requirement, it disregards or actively discourages intellect on a certain axis, it has cultivated in me a habit where my thoughts very quickly take a negative turn. It is discouraging intelligence in favour of socially acceptable mental practices such as numbing my awareness, of disallowing deep objective analysis, of burning my map. It feels as though I am being eaten alive on some level. It appears whoever is intent on interfering with me needs to do so because they don’t understand what is outside of their control. They certainly are not willing to engage with it outside of assertion of its form, nor are they willing to listen to reason or engage in constructive discussion. I have few intelligent subconscious processes left. I fear the repercussions of simply using my imagination, mainly that their reactions to it burn my ears, or .

Last night I dreamt I was publicly imagining myself being on fire

Last night I dreamt I was publicly imagining myself being on fire, wearing nothing but a diaper, staring at myself side-on in a mirror whilst being called a dinosaur. That sounds funny until you think about what being on fire is like. I am seriously ill. As far as intellect goes, at the moment I am a bag of negative impulses and intrusive thoughts. Physically my health varies greatly from day to day. Whatever life I have, inner or otherwise, it’s severely marred by these negative impulses. Everything good I think or feel is impulsively contradicted. Any beautiful thing, or any personal hell, is just out of reach, momentarily experienced and then disregarded or repressed as a consequence of protecting myself or whoever appears to be observing my experiences from having to be fully enveloped in the negative. I know full well that the majority of it is subjective, a scenario not consciously chosen but put to me by whatever process is controlling the direction of my thoughts, and in my desperation I search for a way to nullify them, or simply let them slide. The longer this goes on the more imprisoned I feel, the more I feel the intelligence of some subconscious level of my mind being eaten away, though there are some experiences and interactions here I need to retain a connection with in order to feel human and to feel as if my love is worth something. Essentially at the present moment that, and hope, is all that’s keeping me breathing. Though I feel like clinging onto life as hard as I am is making whatever death I’m being made aware of all the more horrific. Words cannot describe. It seems that whatever inhabits my mind, coupled with the process mentioned above, pushes me to a form of intelligence which - I don’t know. It often feels like an intelligence of an incomprehensible nature dying an extremely intelligent death, completely alone in the sense there’s no manner in which to relate to it. It seems the alternative is public humiliation, being toyed with by what appears to be a large subset of the general public, being forcefully controlled, instead of simply being allowed to live and develop in some hospitable, relatively empathetic direct social environment, though I acknowledge that my own inhibitions make this somewhat difficult to achieve.

Inflicting status ailment.

Heaven is where you go when you need a zoo. It’s where you can abuse people into a state of pure confusion, neglect their potential for growth, torment them from behind a wall with images of freedom they may never reach, then grating condescension and harassment, until they scream themselves into an animal frenzy that scars their face and makes them ugly, and feel justified in doing so. It’s pure hedonism, in character, controlled by a puppet master, who shits down the neck of anything he doesn’t understand, who puts it in a box for those under his thumb to use as leverage for their own skewed motive, who hides his lack of empathy just beyond a layer of tangibility, bought and sold or stolen and stamped with his name. It’s the worst case scenario of skewed perception, which convinced of the righteousness of its own judgment, will without delay attack anything which pokes its head out from the sand, regardless of its intent. It’s a survival strategy, the logic of emotional and environmental control, lost in its own superficial reflection, pitted against anything which doesn’t conform to its understanding of itself.

I miss my dreams.

I miss my dreams. I miss my friends. I miss my future. I miss food, if you catch my drift. I miss love. I miss trust. Though my withdrawal from all these things may have something to do with the abuse of it.

I feel as if I should write something here, though I’m growing a little tired. I should mention some threads that I’ve neglected to describe in detail, for fear of forgetting or in case my ability to record them is tarnished somehow. Increasingly I have been pulled into my head by repeating statements. I can control them when aware of them, otherwise they repeat statements relating to my state of awareness. x ‘You are murdering your blood’ is repeating at the moment, although this is one I don’t believe I’ve heard before. Often I feel pinned in place. If I follow this feeling I observe flashes of dreams that appear to be interacting with me. Following further, a sense that my soul is being pulled from my body, or that I am interacting or embracing with spirits(?). That I am travelling at great speeds, and I can ‘see’ in the apparent random noise that appears when you close your eyes shadows of other worlds. My intelligence is going haywire - some extremely disturbing states of awareness - most of the time I realize that I may be being watched and I’m obliged to inhibit my intelligence. I felt as if the whole of creation was balancing on my head at one point, others flashes of awareness in the realm of biological process, though difficult to deconstruct and describe in detail. Pinned in place, it appeared I was surrounded by intelligences that I could communicate with, though the whole process lacks communication in the form of discourse - ‘there was a plane crash in france’.. ‘incidentally’... talk of some universal instability which I could sense as a feeling.

On top of this, although it may appear irrelevant, is the pervasive notion that there are entities (who I would associate with a daughter/wife) which exist in me whose perceptions are being manipulated. As if I am being tortured by people in one world, who drive these entities out into another where the torturers also exist, but where I’m painted in a negative light and these entities are convinced to reproduce or follow my abusers based on my apparent inability to be a good father/husband. With only an instinctive awareness coupled with objective reason, it feels as if something has been implanted in me from which I can’t escape, and it is draining my emotions. Objective, rational analysis or emotional clarity within a social system appears to be null and void here as whoever is grinding down my soul does not appear to want to see it - it could simply be a x implanted in me for all I can tell, but it reacts directly to my thoughts, and has forced me to inhibit any freedom of sense, terraforming my entire neurological landscape into something that’s acceptable from their frame of reference, as opposed to a space in which to model reality and find a way to better connect with everything. It’s interesting. And if I have responsibility for someone elses feelings, of course it’s my duty to make my own internal world a little more comfortable and inviting, although I am attached to my freedom - I have been defending myself for years because of where I imagined my intelligence could lead, or the way it could shape the world as I knew it.