promeny

It has been over a month since I've last wrote here. I would say that I was lazy, but in truth I just had to wait a while in order to see what was really up with my life.

My brother came down here in the first portion of this month in order to see my mother's grave, but had to leave a day before the actual death anniversary because he had to work at his new job in Everett and didn't have enough tenure there to have days off yet. It was nice to have him around; he seemed to have his shit together and to be finally making the right decisions. He was really concerned about my mental health, though, since not being on Olanzapine has made me less focused in real life; apparently, I do fine on the phone, so he wasn't prepared for that. It wasn't my fault, and I'm used to my brother hyping up my so-called "problems", but I do have to admit that there are times when I have more difficulty finishing my thoughts, or not saying them.

We visited our mother's grave on the last full day he was here, and I was little made at first because he was taking his sweet time doing outdoor stuff with my father and his girlfriend. Looking back, I can still say that it was a little inappropriate. But we were fine together, for the most part, and being at the grave was a bit odd. It just felt like a long time since it all happened, and I didn't have much to say, although that isn't implying that I wasn't strongly affected. My brother laid some tulips at the grave, and then placed a picture of him and his current girlfriend (who vaguely looks like our sister despite being half Hispanic); I asked him if he was going to be with her for a while, and he said "I don't know." I honestly hope that he didn't inherit any of the fickle sentimentality that our father has, but at least I can say that my brother was honest about it.

There were two horses right next to the graveyard (the graveyard is in the middle of nowhere in rural Idaho). I looked at them from a distance for a few minutes, and they then took notice of me, and came up to the fence. I walked up to them, and I was pretty sure that both were mares. The one I approached was a tall, brown horse with gentle, brown eyes; I did not detect any negative vibes from her at all, which I sort of did with the other. I then petted her nose, and she made noises that she loved the attention, and moved her face closer to me. It honestly felt that someone genuinely accepted and returned my affection, which I basically never experience. My brother was there, and he got a picture. There were times where he was laughing about it. I asked him about two weeks later why he laughed, and he said that it was because I looked so serious while I was petting her. I probably was because I just don't know what to do in such a situation. I like to think that my mother set that up, to show me that I can be loved.

My father was in the picture, of course, but he never went where we went and he didn't say a word about my mother, except for one time where I asked him permission to have something off a table that had my mother's handwriting on it. That was really odd, but expected. He could have said at least something. I really wonder if most men can truly love anyone. I know that I have problems with that, but at least I don't use women as objects or resources.

Me and my brother went to a bar on the last night, right after we went to the grave. I think that we only went to two bars. It was pretty fun, but I meant to spend a bit more on my brother and buy him more drinks than he actually drank. I felt like I owed him, which I generally don't feel at all. My brother is maybe one out of perhaps three people in my life who I'd give the shirt off of my back for. After we left, it just felt really magical, like I was in my mid/late 20s again and the year was 2011. Several years ago there was a period in my life where I'd go to bars a lot, and it was halfway fun at the time but I would never do it now. That night did bring back fond memories, though, and reminded me that I still have a little bit of youth left in me.

The rest of the month was relatively uneventful. I'm reading again now, having finished The Magic Mountain and one other book this month. The former took me two months to read, partially because it was fiction and mostly due to the bullshit that I had to put with (mostly in my head, of course). I don't regret reading it at all, and if I find a cheap used copy of it, I likely will get one for myself, but I do have to admit that a lot of the lessons that you learn from that book are not the ones that most people seem to think exist in there.

I tried to go to the bars again, for social observation reasons, but I found out that almost everyone at the bars are the same. The first time at one bar, I ran into my old neighbor who I partied with months ago, and he was nice, but he and his friend were talking about how they beat each other up for fun and they were also talking about another friend coming who liked to beat up people who he thought were gay. The next day, I was walking up the road to my father's house and there was this overweight asshole in his mid-20s yelling at me to "get the fuck off the road". I wasn't threatened by it and it didn't shock me, but I wondered just how people are turning out these days. Is it possible that people are really that violent and I've just been oblivious up until this time? I am more aware of my surroundings and of other people, after all. Then again, nothing like that happened in my neighborhood until just then, so I don't know.

I also noticed a few days ago that there are people walking around who look like they would beat the crap out of you in an instant, and I'd say that I was paranoid about that, but then I went into another bar not even a week ago and I could see the bartender and the ID checker coldly staring at me like a bunch of smug simians. I got out of there, because I know better than to give any sort of place that employs assholes like that any of my money. It was also about personal safety, but I could have at least easily have harmed the ID checker, if it came to that. I don't think I should go to bars anymore, and not just because I don't have the money; you are far more likely to run into bad people if you do. I'm not a coward, I just don't want to bother with that shit.

Not much else is to be said. I'm just more aware of stuff, I guess. I was worried for myself, for a while, but I seem better now. And I'm writing again now, which is always nice.

Today is my legal birthday. Technically, it was yesterday, for I was born overseas and it was the 20th in Japan yesterday. I generally celebrate both days out of confusion.

I'm 31 years old now. I was ready for it, and I feel that old (more or less), but I honestly can't believe that I've been on this Earth for over three decades, and basically have had self-awareness for 17 years (I consider the age of 14 as the start of psychological maturity, where you start to be aware of yourself and your life).

I wonder how I'm going to be later on, and how my life is going to play out. I sometimes feel like a loser, for I have no solid career or family of my own, and likely never will. At 31, if you haven't developed those yet, chances are you won't ever. I'm still youngish, but in a few years I won't be. Is my life going to be a dead-end? Then again, I do have motivation as well as a very thoughtful and introspective nature to my mind, and I've already written a lot. I also don't make mistakes nearly as much as I used to, meaning that I have gotten wiser. I still plan on writing more, so I think that there is still a chance that I can make something out of myself; that I still have potential, if you will.

I've improved dramatically over the past year or so; most of this comes from the realization that I can be wrong, and that just because I have a thought or an emotion, does not mean that it is justified. Self-doubt, surprisingly, can take you a long way.

I've been really interested in my dreams, recently. It hasn't gotten to the point where I am lucid in my dreams, however I remember them more clearly and all of my actions within them are in character. I even remember things from my waking life in them, and it has gotten to the point where I am able to learn many things from them. I honestly think that dreams are portal to another world, and I have had both out-of-body experiences as well as astral and mental projection over the course of several months. They seem to be getting more common, although I have yet to know how to do it willingly; they come to me on their own. I'd very much like to master those abilities, for I feel that they are very important to possess.

I have a theory that the afterlife is very similar to the dream world, and that it is important to enhance one's abilities through their dreams as well as obtain the aforesaid abilities in order to have a better afterlife, or at least to understand it better. But who knows for sure?

Other than that, I've just been reading a bit. I was originally somewhat fatigued from it; I still had the motivation, but not really the interest in the things around me. But if you start looking hard enough, you'll find something else.

I still am not back on SSI. I went to the lawyer today and he was just as surprised as I was. He did say that he will keep on reminding them, and if he has to, he'll get a member of congress to contact the department in order to speed things up. That was great; I think I will get back on it, it is just a matter of time.

I finished The Threads of The Mind about two weeks ago, and the books of it arrived today. I gave my roommate an autographed copy and he was very pleased. I have five more books to hand out, four to my friends and one to the university library, if they will take it. It would be really cool if they accepted it. In any case I feel great about writing a third book; it makes me feel like I am capable of doing something. At least I'm not just sitting on my ass and playing video games. Writing helps me do something constructive while taking my mind off of my problems.

I am currently writing my fourth book, a grimoire of sorts called Liber Vagus. I'm writing it because I want to get my occult knowledge recorded and distributed in case if I really do die shortly after I turn 31. I've been thinking about that a lot, to be honest. I mean, I probably won't die, but if I do, what will happen next? I know that there probably is an afterlife, but it is a huge mystery to me. Perhaps I won't die, but will be changed in some profound way. I just don't know. I don't want to think about how my possible death would affect my friends and family; I mean, my family just lost my mother a little over two years ago. But if I do die, at least I had done stuff with my life, and lived a full one. I've practically lived three lifetimes in the past ten years.

In any case, nothing else is really happening. Just waiting to have money come in again.

Not a whole lot has been happening. Still not on SSI as far as I know, but that might change in a week or so. If it doesn't, then I'm really going to have to get on them. I don't like how they put me through this, at all. The lawyer has been great but I feel that I may have irritated him a little bit; I plan on sending the office a Thank You card once I get back on it.

I began writing my third book two days ago, titled Threads of The Mind. It talks about how there are actually three different minds within the gestalt mind, and it will investigate the nature and dynamics of them. It is a lot more philosophical and metaphysical than it is scientific, but science still doesn't quite know why our brain works the way it does by this point. I really like writing it so far and I think that it will be better than A Perception of Existence and Reality because I know what to write about and I haven't quite rambled on yet.

I haven't drank any beer in almost a week. Last night was really hard; I felt the urge to drink alcohol very strongly. I had to distract myself with other things, including cigarettes (cloves, this time). Out of all the substances I have ever done, alcohol is by far the most addictive; even tobacco is nowhere near as bad. I'm too old to be partying like a college student (haven't in a long time, anyway), so as such I really need to be sober most if not all of the time. Cigarettes make me feel odd but if they keep me from drinking again, then so much the better.

Overall I'm okay; more calm than usual. I did have a minor episode in the beginning of the week but I quickly got over that. My friend told me that I seem to be handling it better.

I got a new laptop. It is actually a notebook model, much smaller than my former laptop, but it seems to be a bit more powerful, although it cannot multitask very well. The visuals are a lot crisper and the sounds are a little more vivid, however the operating system is Windows 8, which has proven to be sort of hard to use. I try not to get the latest technology because they are a lot more complicated than they used to be. In general, I like it, although I wonder how long it will be used for (new technology isn't really built to last these days).

I finished A Perception of Existence and Reality sometime last week, and yesterday I put it on my Academia.edu account. A little over thirty people have looked at it, and one person has followed me, however no one has commented on it yet; it may be too early to tell, though. I also put it on reddit; hopefully some people will talk about it. To be honest, the manuscript fell somewhat short of my expectations, but I don't place the blame on myself, for the topic was too broad and nebulous to seriously define. But I am glad that I finished a second book this year; it makes me feel that I am using my time well and that I have accomplished something. I will try to write another, and I'm already brainstorming on it, however I won't start on it for a couple more weeks.

Looking back on last month, it seems that I learned a lot and changed a bit over the course of the month. I learned some esoteric stuff, such as how to divinate and summon an angel, and I've learn some basic stuff, such as how to cook rice, how to go to small claims, and how to deal with an awkward social situation. Quite a bit actually happened last month, and I grew a significant amount from it. I sort of realized sometime last month that I'm basically a full-grown man now, inside and out, but the funny thing is that you never really stop learning and changing, or at least it is still possible. Most older people don't because they either don't want to learn or change, or the idea to do so just doesn't come to them. I'm grateful for still learning things because it is helping me with actually becoming functional, and I feel that my life has really just started.

Outside of that, not much else. My life is fairly quiet right now, outside of the SSI thing. I will move sometime, but I don't feel the need to do it anytime soon.

I had a dream last night, where I was at the old house in Pendleton, the one on the farm. My mother was present, and she had married another man, a German who looked similar to a previous professor that I had years ago. He kept on bossing me around, but I was having none of it. During the midst of it, I suddenly said "You're not my real father." Then I left, and I was in the parking lot of the house; it was raining, and I could see three radio antennae on the hills glowing red (it was night). I thought about where I should go, and I decided that I could take my car and go to two shopping malls in some towns that I dreamed about roughly a month ago (that was kind of neat that I thought of locations from a previous dream; maybe there is a unified dream world). I then did something with an animal, but I don't remember what.

And then it cut to another dream, where for some reason I was a woman. I supposedly had to show up in court, and I was at the outside entrance to the lobby; there was a sign saying what to wear to court, and with what, in abbreviations. Apparently there was a rule that you couldn't bring guns to the court, which should have been obvious, but then a female police officer showed me pictures of a rifle on the floor, along with a squirrel that had been killed in court.

I was free to leave, which I did. I walked around the neighborhood, and I was behind an old apartment complex, where I saw a VHS rental store. No one seemed to be in there, so I went in, and they had some fairly strange, but interesting tapes and other objects. When I went out, I saw myself in third person as a woman who had revealing battle armor on, and the armor gradually changed to a demon that was molesting me. After a while, I looked at myself in third person again, and I was naked. I had a female body, but something about my lower half was...exaggerated. Then the dream ended.

All in all, I've been feeling slightly better. Just feel like giving love to a certain type of woman that I probably never could, and somewhat distressed over that. But it is still a step up; I now think about selflessly giving love, rather than selfishly receiving it.

Someone on OKCupid messaged me back. I may or may not pursue it; the woman is good looking, but she has a kid (she's older than me, slightly) and I sort of get some not-so-good vibes. Still, it might not hurt to do so.

I did DXM again two days ago. I didn't get my ass handed to me, but I still didn't know what the hell I was doing. The visions seemed to increase in detail and color, and I got the vibes from the spirits that I was on the right track to becoming a wizard. I could actually see, faintly, the spirits around me with my eyes open. I didn't get a lot of insights during the trip, but the next day I learned a lot from it. That seems to be the trend, now; the greater the message, the longer it takes to figure it out.

I've been reading Jung again. The book is titled The Psychology of the Subconscious, and although I've only read about a sixth of it, it is really cool. I'm learning a lot about the subject, and it will help me with writing my book in a month or two.

So, two nights ago I did DXM after a tolerance break of six months.

I thought that I was only going to mildly trip, but instead, I got my ass handed to me.

It was a very brutal experience, the most brutal I ever had from any drug. I even thought about not ever doing it again, when I was coming down from the trip. But it was necessary, in order to learn about the nature of the world, and to move on.

I did it, mainly because my chronomancy abilities told me that it was the right thing to do. Over the past week, I was very bothered by an issue that I have had for half of my life, and I finally told it to my friend, my former boss at the Chemistry Department. She was very worried about me, to the point where she told her husband that she was afraid that I was going crazy. I tried contacting my therapist, but she never called me back. I didn't see her this week, either, even though I was supposed to; the appointment was cancelled.

DXM has proven to be very therapeutic in the past, and I had no other option. So as such, I tripped my balls off, to the point where I didn't know who I was, or that I was tripping in the first place.

I had many visions, but one stood out. It was a crude mechanism of parts that differed from one another, rough in shape and covered in grime. A part would fall off due to not being either wanted or needed, and then the vision zoomed out, with the mechanism being a part of a rough matrix of other similar mechanisms, working separately and in approximate unison.

At first, I didn't know what the vision meant. But now I know; the grime resembled the fact that reality is neither clear nor consistent. Life is filled with various factors contributing to the chaos, and we can't perceive the factors and try to ignore the chaos. The parts resembled humanity; neither equal nor uniform, working as best as they can to function. And the part that was discarded resembled the fraction of humanity that I despised; that they would be recognized as unwanted and unworthy, and as such would be sloughed off and sent to the depths.

All in all, it taught me that life is filled with so many things that we either can't or won't perceive or understand, and that is what makes things interesting. We also try to find those that are compatible to us, in order to be functional with both life and ourselves. There is no global unity; we have to find our own group. Life is complete, but not consistent; we don't understand either existence or the world, but we are nonetheless apart of it, trying to construct our own artificial reality in order to deal with the world better. And the ones who I hate, who don't deserve to exist? Either nature or God will take care of them, and thus things will remain decent in the long run so long as we don't fuck it up with egalitarianism or other worthless ideals (or just plain cowardice). The design will still function, and God will always have his way in the end.

We can't all be equal, for if we were, we would all be the same parts, and as such there would be no working mechanism. And some parts just never fit.

Today I went to church, and had an early dinner at the pastor's house. I've been there roughly three or four times before.

I was eating a nice dinner with some of my friends from church, one of whom was the pastor's youngest son. I got into a discussion about how I support universal healthcare, and they didn't agree with me. I didn't agree with them, either, but it was still interesting to hear their perspective. I was telling the other friend about how I wrote a book, and when I told him what it was about, he perked up and said that he wanted to read it. I promised him a free copy, I'm pretty sure; I've said that to around six or seven people about now. I do mean it, but I'm not sure if it will get published.

I actually made him laugh, but I don't remember from what.

In the spiritual discussion, I asked if being curious about the occult was bad. The pastor said yes, and while he did lend himself to the possibility that not every spirit is against God, he said that detracted against the devotion towards God. He said that he didn't think that magic itself was evil, but rather how people used it for their own ends. I told him that I was just curious, and simply wanted to gain visions.

From that, we talked about my previous drug use and my experiences with having visions. They frowned upon my previous habits, but I told them that if it wasn't for my experiences, I'd still be a functional agnostic and would likely be with the Unitarian church instead of a real one. Some reacted with a "BUT YOU DON'T KNOW THAT!", but most said that it was due to the fact that God reached my heart in spite of my destructive habits, and as such I reached out to him.

The pastor eventually did a poll where he took note of everyone in the room (about ten of us) who had visions. Outside of dreams, there was only the pastor and I with our hands up; there was one person who had one while sick, but the pastor didn't count that. I had told them about the "ADO" incident while at church a few minutes earlier (they were surprisingly accepting about that), which is what brought up the whole issue. I explained myself by saying that while I thought that a fair amount of people were connected on some level to the spiritual dimension (far from all, since physicalism and atheism have rendered most people dead inside, in that respect), some had a deeper connection for some odd reason, and I was one of them. I couldn't explain myself; that was just how it was. The pastor agreed with me.

Eventually, I left; the bottom line was that it was okay to be curious, so long as I checked my head. One person gave me an 8 out of 10 in how I presented my arguments, so I didn't look like a fool. I wasn't angry, either, so that was good.

I smoked a cigar a while later (I meant to smoke it with the group, but didn't end up doing so) and I felt horrible for about an hour or two later. I don't want to smoke again; dead honest.

Overall, I learned a lot today.

Due to having internet at my apartment again, I don't go to the university as early as I used to. I'd usually be there at around 9:00 am or 9:30 am in the past; now I arrive at around 11:00 am. I don't have to use the library computers anymore (although I currently am right now), so there is no other reason to go there besides visit friends and go to the one class that I audit.

I don't mind it, really. The mornings have been quiet and pleasant, with me being able to look at whatever I want. I am starting to notice that I am spending a lot more time on it, though.

I did manage to read a book last night. It was hard at first, but it eventually helped me think about things. I don't even know what the main point of the book is, outside of the whole science versus faith theme that was common in the early half of the 20th century, and still sort of is today. It is kind of sad that I'm not as attached to reading anymore.

I found a group on reddit that is centered around the occult. At first, you are sort of put off by how silly it seems on the surface, but when you start looking more into it, it just becomes more fascinating to read about and study. The occult has had a tremendous impact on the development and evolution of humanity, and I think that it is sort of sad that people are turning away from not only God, but all other things spiritual.

The group is a lot more accepting of fringe subjects, and outside beliefs. They don't usually see you as being an idiot just for having an opinion or belief that others don't have. The philosophy group wasn't like that at all; just purely based on consensus and clarity, and while those two things can be important to have, they alone don't make anything true. Yet those fools think that things are so simple. In any case, there is hardly anything more offensive than a person who thinks that reality is nothing more than a limited set of abstractions; in other words, they think that things are more simple than they actually are.

I had a lack of energy yesterday, but I decided to start proofreading my book.

I was pleasantly surprised at how well written it was. I did have to make a few minor corrections, and some parts are slightly repetitive, but it flows together very well. I'm about four-fifths done with it, and I guesstimate that the book would take about two to six hours to read, depending on how fast you read, as well as your interest in reading it.

So yeah, I'm impressed with myself. I definitely want to write more books, and this was a great start. I haven't read very much so far this year (nor do I have as strong of an interest to do so, to be perfectly frank), but writing is better than reading, provided that you have the skill for it. And even if you don't, it is still a good way to exercise your brain.

I do realize one thing, though; the reason why me and the others have the same level of ideas and thought, is that I finally started reading. In just seven months, I read enough philosophy and the like to be on the same level as others. I was always a fairly bright person, but for some reason, I didn't read, because I by and large felt that I didn't have to. Well, a lot of knowledge is contained in books, and if you don't read anything at all, you won't become as educated or aware. Of course, there is such a thing as reading too much, or at least taking everything that has been published as the literal truth, but it is better to be aware of the thoughts of others than it is to live in your own self-absorbed bubble. I know realize that I don't know everything, and I need to at least be open and receptive to the ideas of others, even if I think they are wrong.