Into the Abyss

Lost in the woods on

My morning jog, I found my

Way and returned home.

But everything had

Changed. My cherished wife was now

My foe, having been

Instructed on the great

Litany of my wrongs by

Some unknown scribe. She

Viewed me askance, and

All my efforts to engage

Were thwarted. Broken,

Dissolute, the streets

I wandered until

The beat of some infernal

Drum summoned me to

March, in a crowd of

Damned like me. We followed the

Rhythm, to our doom.

It’s Not Your Fault

I failed my board exam. I had spent months studying, and done everything I thought I could and I should. I bombed it.

I have to retake it in June, and hope to still graduate residency in time. I’m really upset about it.

I pray that it’s a glitch, a electronic error on the part of the testing administrator, and this will all be a bad dream. But it brings me back to dark places.

I’ve spent the past few months writing reflective journal entries about my life. I am starting to recognize how many harmful patterns in my life are the result of what I went through as a kid, terrified and humiliated and neglected, beaten by my brother and verbally abused and sometimes physically abused by my dad, neglected by my mom, and made to watch her have sex when she and her boyfriend were drunk, and all the kids were in one hotel room together.

I was starting to heal, as difficult as it all was. Now I’m questioning myself all over again. And I have to go back into study mode, where I have to sit at a computer all day, mentally roasting myself while trying to stay focused.

I thought I had gotten to a place where I could get back to my writing, creative and spiritual interests, and move past all the hurt and shame and pain of the past. But it’s still here, and I have to live in that pit for another three months.

I’m reminded of this gut wrenching scene, Matt Damon and Robin Williams in Good Will Hunting: https://youtu.be/ZQht2yOX9Js

For all the internalizers out there, the ones who always had to be strong, smile and say that nothing was wrong, they were fine and didn’t need anything. For those who saw what no one else saw, and bore what no one should bear. For the lonely and the devastated, for all who suffer in silence when they want to scream. For the marks that don’t show and the wounds that won’t heal.

Being an abused and neglected kid, you never leave the pit. It stays in you. I relate to this sequence from Tom Kong’s Mister Miracle, because I always want someone to see the good in me, accept the hurt I’ve felt, and help me to move through it. I have to become that person for myself. I have to hug that boy, and tell him he’s loved and wanted and doesn’t have to prove anything.

Matrix

My goal is to detect the matrix and test it’s reality.

There are multiple assumptions built into the matrix idea. One is that what we hear in our heads is detectable and influential to a consciousness external to us. The voice that we hear, the emotions in the actions that we take, must be discernible at a distance and matter to the entity that is monitoring them.

Bayesian I did that I can make a statement regarding my confidence that this reality is the base reality. So I can say that I’m 80% confident that the universe functions in a way that is easily apprehensible.

Another is that I and everyone around me can be manipulated in a way which is completely undetectable except under extraordinary circumstances. Additionally, for this to work, I would have to be able to detect that undetectable force.

The manipulation would have to benefit the entities which were monitoring from a distance.

The reason why matrix was persuasive and relatable when it first came out was because it was so apparent how my current reality was the product of my parents sending me the score and desiring me to do academics. It was readily visible how artificial the construction was. It required an extraordinary amount of energy in order to run an entire school.

Then, it’s 2021, and you stop the world for COVID-19. And the other people still exist, but so much of how you interacted with them is now gone. And you interact primarily through a computer now. It feels fake.

I have an intuition of the reality of circumstances. I have an intuition that there are other entities out there, with whom I want to be in contact.

There have been several times when the veil of reality has become thin.

A few times when loved ones acted in such a way that it was like if they were possessed by demons. My brother had a demon in him. It wanted to kill my younger brother. I had to throw myself in front of him, and he hates me forever because of it. That was more than 20 years ago, and I still think about it a couple times a week.

My younger brother had a demon. Maybe he still does. He nearly died several times. He wanted to kill my mom. He wanted to kill himself. He went inpatient multiple times. If you can’t remember anything, how do you know what was in your consciousness?

The demons have always bowed to me. I know their game. I win, but die a little more each time. They take the faces of the ones I love and twist them. They were the ones I trusted. I gave them good things.

The noosphere described by Pierre Teilhard de Chardin would have to exist, and be manipulated by superior beings who treat humans as subjects. Demons could fit into this framework, malicious programs designed to tweak malfunctioning operators. Or stop people who were getting too close to detecting them.

I feel like things are simulated when I realize how things worked together in a way that I didn’t consciously realize.

As described by Nietzsche, the Apollonian vision of reality we behold in dreams, art, theater, music, represents a hyper reality. It is so desirable that I suffer upon waking from it. It encapsulates truths beyond words, and I can only grasp at vapor trying to hold it.

Alternatively, the Dionysian experience has me dance and laugh a riot, singing and celebrating and weeping with a crew of fellow satyrs and nymphs. I get myself into a frenzy, and all boundaries are dissolved. I am loved, I am home, I am one.

Crushed beneath a heap of people, I crawl to the top, sight golden Apollo, and truly experience the god.

Mutant Freak

I have always been

A mutant freak, different

From the norm, and now

You see it, and you

Watch for my horns to grow. You’re

Sure I’m just waiting

For the other shoe

To drop, to flee and fly from

You, join my freaky

Friends. I reassure

You, that I don’t have any

Friends; you are my home.

I have nowhere to

Fly, and I cannot picture

Life without you there.