July

⋆ Semi-predictive dream.

⋆ Saquatch and bug shadows...

⋆ Identity refracturing.

⋆ The universe is listening: Ed, explosion, dream, eggs, bicycle.

⋆ The corpse of a fairy, I placed him by the crow's festher, and my lost item returned.

⋆ I am the calamity within the doll's vessel.

⋆ The neurosis was shepherded into my boundaries of sleep and wake. Voices, hallucinations, nightmares– What is reality?

⋆ Do I have the makings of the creative dreamer, or great thinker, or am I merely a madman?

⋆ Losing language. Getting more clipped.

⋆ I dislike how the only time I receive a release of dopamine is through delusions and episodes. They give me will. When I am more cogent I am something rotten and vegetative.

⋆ Refractive and reflective telescopes: Consider convergence points.

⋆ Reality is made up of the same material as dreams.

⋆ To bury someone.

⋆ Pylons beset by fog.

⋆ Pegasus returns.

⋆ If I were to learn sewing, something like a 汉服, elegant gothic aristocratic crossing.

⋆ I think the time I expire is approaching...

⋆ Pineal gland.

⋆ The hands are your eyes that touch the invisible path. Our bodily senses are gateways to the metaphysical.

⋆ Radio, Tv, mirrors, walls, doors, windows, piping, wires, water.

⋆ Vision of the blood red rosary resurfaces.

⋆ Stray webbing flashes across my sight.

⋆ Everything is dead.

⋆ I cannot help but think this is the stage and I am the unreliable narrator.

⋆ 田中.

⋆ Red, white, black, and spiders.

⋆ The Tv was listening ('I will explode').

⋆ Dreamt that every string had snapped

⋆ Saw the birds and figures shadowed on the walls, imprints of rings.

⋆ Snakes burst forth from veins.

⋆ She is alive beneath us, the system of monolithic tunnels, piping in rusted red mesa.

⋆ Angels walk among us.

⋆ Feeling wrought by lonesome. Maybe it is selfish to feel sadness. I must be selfish; it's another day. Of all moments, there is ideation, not delusion. Language slips away.

⋆ [ Soon: People treading through a home. Repulsive. ] [ Ed 2.0 pressure trigger. As if the universe conspired. ] [ Grand, social neurosis. ]

⋆ Cancer was entropy.

⋆ I see it.

⋆ Last Night︎
> Relieved because no positive symptoms. Just spent the day dissociating.
> Sudden return of Ed-related intrusive thoughts regarding something that helps me relax.
> Didn't realise the extent until stressed enough it causes heart pain.
> Now neurotic and starting to think things are watching or out to maim me.
> Understand the hell cycle of triggers.

⋆ Minor suicidal/Sh delusions. Think I am fine today if I distract myself.

⋆ Aimless days. I used to have a direction. It’s too easy to fall into staring at walls. At least the more positive upsurge is having rest, yet without [them] the less alive I feel. Settling back into the illusion. If I could lie in the grass and read… Instead I will sip my tea with in|at|tention.

⋆ The castles have fallen. The white stag runs free.

⋆ People (and the organic) are conduits of abstract energies that tell archetypal stories.

⋆ Let go of control and flow with the role.

⋆ Music and art are undoubtedly physical manifestations of portals.

⋆ And I feel apathy. Appreciation swims with a swelling sense of goodwill when others experience happiness, a drowning pathos when they experience poor fate.

But towards people, there's nothing. I feel more for the people in my head, and even then, just beyond the glass wall.

A failed shape of a person; if I wasn't born dissociated, could I be considered [real|human]? ☽

⋆ The worm unwound itself from the sun and dropped to the horizon.

⋆ The sun is watching.

⋆ By all rational law I was not supposed to be born, therefore I should not exist in this reality. My compulsion to leave this world behind is the act of reality attempting to correct itself and restore natural order. I am in line with the universe. Ergo, [...] has been my destiny since I was conceived.

⋆ Shatter the mosaic and redistribute the pieces.

⋆ The reflection was never real.

⋆ Relationships are transient and I am learning to embrace it instead of reacting only in a disordered manner.

I want to better appreciate the moments I am connecting with the people who enter my circle, regardless of duration.

The fact I have very little autobiographical recall (so I forget the nature of a relationship as it was just yesterday), makes this intended presence all the more important.

I feel like a guy who has to leave notes everywhere to remind himself to stay sane and grounded.

I don't remember the people who are gone, so the place they left behind and assimilated lessons are all the more important. ☽

⋆ Looked up at the sky. Saw a small carpet of grey blotting out the blue. Brain keeps repeating "A storm is coming"... and I still don't register the meaning of my thoughts. It started pouring and suddenly I understood.

It was perceived as separate, the running dialogue was something other, like the words repeated on Tv and not heeded. ☽

⋆ It's one of the nights where the shadows come alive and I can't feel my body, but at least I can tell myself it's in my head.

⋆ I don’t know if I am entering a more delusional frame now or if my ration and reality is still guiding me, but I suppose I will let go and follow it.

⋆ I knew how to open a portal. There was never a need for ritual or blood sacrifice...

⋆ Colours are our informant. They are the kernel of reality.

⋆ o→

⋆ The moon has a face and it's always watching.

"One by one by one
Do you bleed for something
One by one by one
Or will you die for nothing?"

"You're always there to help me when I'm down
I'm lucky you've been keeping me around
You're the star I look for every night
When it's dark, you'll stick right by my side

I've got something to confess
I keep you in my pocket to use
You're my only compass
I might get lost without you"

⋆ Fear is our compass.

VI of Swords
"Take me out tonight
Because I want to see people
And I want to see life
Driving in your car
Oh please, don't drop me home
Because it's not my home, it's their home
And I'm welcome no more

...To die by your side
Is such a heavenly way to die
...To die by your side
Well, the pleasure, the privilege is mine

...And in the darkened underpass
I thought, 'Oh God, my chance has come at last!'
But then a strange fear gripped me
And I just couldn't ask

Take me out tonight
Oh take me anywhere
I don't care, I don't care, I don't care
Driving in your car
I never, never want to go home
Because I haven't got one...

Oh, there is a light and it never goes out
There is a light and it never goes out"

Knight of Cups
"We tiptoe around, and I keep shutting my mouth
But silence is the match that's gonna burn us down...

There's truth in the lies like I predicted

It's all in my mind... just leave it all behind...

The fear inside won't let me go
Until my heart lets me move on"

⋆ Portals. Portals. The planars of the wormhole. A straw is an elongated hole, a circle extended into the third dimension. The sphere occurs if you rotate the slice 360 in all directions. Time. Where is the other side of the moon? This is the underground. Fell through the mirror. I was sent to a beautiful hell. Listen to the hare and atone. We live in a dual world. Become the sphere and traverse the wormhole. But why for blood? They told me to draw the instruments, call upon [M] and song. The dragons are circling.

Waking to unreality,
Another reminder of awaiting fatality.
In this apartment, we live alone,
No sins to tempt, but time to atone.

The fan's on the wrong plane, mutely back facing,
Doesn't prevent the weak heart from erasing,
The past, present, future, time is a ball,
Throw a dart and where does it fall?
When I open the door and enter the hall,
Colourful paintings stretch onto chipped walls.

Walking away and living through art,
Where is the end when there is no start?
I stopped at the edge of a dying world,
The moon laughs at me and taunts with a twirl.
Man, you are so fucking pathetic and alone,
This patchwork prison is your time to atone,

Run as much as you want, til your lungs collapse.
A knife to the heart, bury the axe.
Do remember, you will never leave home.
The moon smirks in crescent and shows us the dome. ☽

⋆ "Does the body rule the mind or does the mind rule the body?"

⋆ "The search for God is absurd." / "A storm is coming." / Travel within God's channel.

⋆ This is an extraneous timeline. Careening far, far away; the ultimate divergence. Dead and empty puppet reality.

⋆ While I don't want delusions or hallucinations, nor psychosis, they're all simultaneously terrifying and comforting. Liberation and devastation speak my name.

⋆ I don't know what of myself is real anymore.

I feel that I have been acting so long I never developed what was real. It was discarded, withered away, or didn't exist to begin. I spent my life wondering who I would be if I wasn't acting, but that person who l imagined is simultaneously more real and more false than the one here.

Usually I can't identify with the person in my dreams because they don't seem any more myself. Some of those expressions are more liberating though.

And I feel the barrier. It's something built into my perception of the world, this thing I have referred to as the veil I cannot get past. Everything on both sides, myself and realness is distant, unreachable.

I don't know how to go around it, as if theres a glass box of consciousness I am confined within. I don't process experiences and memories too well, so even those are faraway and unreal, dissociated.

Existing as a whole, singular, continuous, and unfractured being is alien. ☽