Thursday, May 31, 2012

Of Delta Stones

The whole idea of having myself in contact with all my past generations can be a very useful tool for me if it becomes even slightly feasible. Still as theoretical as the Delta Falls are, these moments of recalling past essences of mine are very real, and I’m calling them Delta Travels.

One of the ways through which I can recall a past perception of life is to trigger it through mnemonic stimuli. Some elements in the surface reality can trigger up past crests of mine and make me briefly re-experience some very early generations of mine. Quintessences can never be this controlled at my own will, so unfortunately I’m always waiting for it to happen randomly.

As it deals with quintessential stimuli, these are batteries that drain and have to be recharged. So these Delta Stones I’m collecting can’t be used all the time, like songs I listen a lot during the month. Also, this little Iron Man toy I’ve bought that makes me like my 10-year-old me has to be appreciated slowly.

Here the boundaries of the concept of the Delta Falls and Crests start neighboring (and Delta Stones might be its returning quintessence if I’m not careful). But these meeting moments are more unsettling than comforting. After all, unresolved subtleties start bubbling the closer they get.

Mindscape #8

Rare are the times I have to feel the sun. But the rarity brings an equation that is the increased intensity of the tasted experience. As the winter comes closer and nights stretch longer, the brightness of the blue sky, the vividness of the green and the warm air of midday sunlight appeal to me.

Whenever I have the chance, I go up to the parking lot on the top of the shopping mall the bookstore I worked at is located. There I can find myself lonely and alive, lovely detached from the human hive (up on the rooftops / I feel so free!). Up from there, I’m free from suffocating stress of the world, and an amazing view is exposed to my eyes.

The long marshlands cover a good amount of this valley. At the left there are some tall buildings from the general direction of the center of the city. But beyond it, there lies the sea between the island and the continent. It looks plain and calm, with dancing blinking lights as it reflects the midday sun. I can’t stop looking at it. Somehow, it means so much to me.

It reverberates some crests of mine. Even some inverted crests, as a shining sea wouldn’t easily be my most defining element. The lightness of this feeling reminds me of the intense beauty of newfound light amethysts. It also takes me back to old selves of mine. Back to ages already gone, passions already forgotten. It’s a travel to past generations.

It’s terribly unfortunate, though, that now I’ve found my fourth safe place for my soul to rest, some security guard told me people aren’t supposed to be in there. Alright then, back to being confined inside closed walls again.

Of sharp eyes for bright circumstances

Once in a while, great ideas of resolutions come to me. But it’s not the ideas themselves that call my attention, but rather the circumstances that involved them. Such rare occurrences appeal to me as the surroundings are used to my favor when they have always been obstacles.

The sudden idea of being able to understand the surrounding logistics and use them to my advantage thrills me. I’d feel quite safe as I would be able to make a victorious result out of any situation. It could bring me some nuclear victories for a change.

However, out of all the skills, this is probably the one I’m the worst at. Circumstances can bring bright resolutions for the sharp eye that I don’t really possess, though it has shown some spins before, so it’s a hint for a developable skill.

Of challenges to conquer (now in the past)

Recently I’ve been looking at my past. Among other things I’ve discovered was how some things in my list of desired achievements I had forgotten I had long fulfilled.

The interesting part is how some accomplishments were done quite unconsciously, or rather lacking realization of them. Such late realizations have the interesting effect of briefly lifting my spirit with the update.

When I realize walls of challenge have already been left behind, a warm feeling of confidence fills me. These current walls around me for challenges to be conquered suddenly don’t feel worryingly impossible.

Of Excelsior State

The human being can be amazing. Any activity performed can become a skill to be taken to almost supernatural levels. Such a level of excellence that can baffle our senses
arouses my artistic ambitions almost every time.

It’s because of this I admire them Asian people. They are some who take this sense of efficiency to nuclear extremes. It’s in the martial arts or spiritual meditation, it’s amazing how far those bastards can go. Even in the visual arts, it inspires me to find how some artists can add details to levels I can only dream of achieving.

In a way, it’s in arts mostly the improvement of technical abilities, but I do find it very inspiring to see how much one can have extreme control over their artistic activity. Indeed, looking for these skills always feel very stimulating, almost a warranty to put me in an inspirational trance.

Of Networking (Chaining’s evolution)

Leitmotifing is a gathering skill that is constantly making me find new edges for me to be entertained with. But it has some puzzling side effects. I can find these connecting points among the texts, mostly by feeling when they are neighboring each other somehow, but now I’m finding just so many connections that having them displayed is now a big trouble for me.

Turns out I have to bring in a new effort: an attempt to understand these connections and distribute them in they bring interesting effects in sequentiality. It’s this effort I’m calling Networking.

Hopefully Leitmotifing, Networking and some eventual use of Chainposting is going to be enough to keep it going. If these three can’t take the burden, new ideas will have to be brought to work on the problems. This is, I’m starting to realize, one of the laws for motif-making.

Of new edges to polish

Stagnation is one of the most disheartening parts of the development for me. The depressive lack of creative endeavours that follows is seen by myself, gladly I realize it, more of a confirmation than a simple consequence.

I dread the feeling of finding something that can’t be improved no more. In fact, finding myself unable to see how something that isn’t even at the peak of its evolution can be improved is an unsettling realization. Luckily, somehow, the ensuing worriment usually makes me find ways to find new details to work at (but I can’t count on that forever).

And then these barriers that stop me usually become challenges that arouse me, in a way I’m yet to fully understand. Some Zephyr winds blow, mindscapes happen, I cross some rims of perception, and in the middle of it all, I’m suddenly, so, so strong again.

Maybe it’s some revengeful targeting, but I focus on something to improve like it’s the cause of whole tragedy and the whole resulting impetuosity and disillusion in this pattern are the aftergoal issues I’ve been exploring already.

Of increasing self-challenge

The clearest way to achieve my inspirational state of mind is to try doing things hard to do. At least being confident of that, or then, of course, finding myself succeeding (it explains why trances happen more often now as some skills also show more frequent spins). It’s only natural then that I’m constantly bringing myself new ways to challenge myself.

The order here is to make me try to hold the most abilities and qualities at once. It’s the summoning of the Uberflammen. Trying to be energetic, intense, sensitive, cautious, inspired; it’s trying to keep my mind sharp, and also my body. It’s trying to be intelligent, but also keeping a well-kept appearance; being disciplined but not iron-fisted tyrant (which I am, hopefully mostly upon myself). Keeping the duodominium exigencies is sure exhaustive, but at least I feel that’s just the best way to go.

It’s a matter of distraction, actually. The most complex it gets, the higher the amount of things I’m being able to do, the most satisfied I am with myself. It ends up being a matter of doing my best against all odds.

The only drawback is that I can’t bear with going back any step in this escalating development. With that said, it’s clear how scourging it is for my soul to find skills being forgotten or to find time taking some abilities of mine away as generations change.

Of practical view of the world

Most rules we follow are made from inside our own minds. The limits and brakes and vices and blindfolds and mindtraps are mostly what keep us from finding solutions for problems that we find.

Some inspiring people I know have this admirable quality of being apparently free enough from these chains to use their practical view of the world for problem-solving. They have a truly remarkable capacity for using this unrestrained spirit for making the world around them work, no matter how unresourceful they are.

That’s one quality I’d like to have explored and maybe developed. Maybe I’ve got this admiration from a friend of mine who has an amazing talent for making tools and fixing simple machineries. I don’t expect to find myself bearing that talent, but I could use this practical approach to break through plastered rules for development.

Of Faux Avant-Garde

I just flipped me a hamburger for dinner and now I’m drinking coffee in a Christmas cup while wearing some clothes I wear indoors home because too ruined to wear outside (also because I don’t give a damn for pajamas). Aside from the coffee I usually don’t drink this late at night, no one would have even the slightest suspect that right now I’m engaged in such an ambitious project.

It’s amusing to think how some people fancy this idea of following certain habits in order to feel intellectual. Alright, playing a badly-dressed hobo as a form of subversion can count on that too, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about the shallow intentions. As I drink coffee here with the lights off and write in my outdated notebook, I can understand the comforting sensation that it is to engage in intellectual efforts, so I understand how appealing it must be to repeat lifestyles of old thinkers, because this is how they got where they got, right?

But this is a feeling of false intellectuality, as it deals with looks and appearances more than actual intellectual struggles. It’s a false progressiveness, just as this pattern can be seen in current progressive music scenario. Music called progressive now is just repetitions of some musical attitude that, in their time, was a bold turn. But as charming as being rebellious and subversive can be, there will always be those who will simply tread these conveniently opened paths believing themselves to be as revolutionary as the pioneers.

This is the sort of behavior that makes me see academy with such bad eyes. It looks rubbish to me to see the intellectual elite emulating behaviors of avant-garde thinkers. Just imagine how silly it is to find, here in a tropical city, professors wearing cloaks in high summer like they’re in autumnal Vienna. There’s nothing to convince me it was the clothing or the fancy talking that made illuminists the geniuses they were.

For me intellectual efforts are to be judged basically on the grounds of intellectual prowess. And whatever comfort should come from that alone. Otherwise, if I was still to follow some thinking standards, I would still feel like a retard for enjoying my Donkey Kong Country 2 soundtrack instead of some Chopin (I’ve got nearly not as many crests to explore in Chopin’s music, I’m sorry). Also because it’s worth mentioning, as a mindtrap, this false sense of caring for intellectuality is to include some heart-wrenching closed-mindedness.

Of Dreiberg’s Blindfold

Reading my own texts can be a very interesting experience. It can be useful to make realize how silly I used to be, but also can show how disoriented I were. During most of last year I was writing whatever came to my mind. Now I am finding myself getting more, say, focused on the ways to develop myself. Not that it comes without its price.

It turns out this certain specialization can become a vice. If I’m not careful about it, I might very well lose this flexibility of mine I always treasured. If I’m not careful enough, I can end up as plastered as the academic teachings I used to have and now I despise.

The difference between Dreiberg’s Blindfold and Dreiberg’s Deception is subtle, but I was cautious about it. The Deception would be the eventual tastelessness of the studies, while the blindfold can feel as tasteful as before, but the changes can be overseen as the harmful vices will come unobserved.

Of Unfooled Valley

It’s getting clearer to me now what the future is saving for me (or so it seems). I can keep improving while I’m making ideas for myself. However, I know the hardest part of it all will be making it to the other side of the valley where there’s academic acknowledgements and scientific accomplishments and where important things are.

While I’m toying around with my ideas, no one will come and say they’re worthless. After all, they’re pretty much layman wonderings and I’m no menace for others, so let me have some fun. But if I’m to go around claiming my work to be science, for instance, then I’m going to be bashed mercilessly. After all, I can convince some, but experts are always to be around to perceive flaws only they can spot so well.

This idea is analogous to the famous uncanny valley, when there’s this dreaded gap I must cross to get to my ambitious results. Some stay behind and conform to the possibilities before the valley. But as ambitious as I am and I dream of achieving a state of excellence, then I am being carried by the winds through it. But what if these winds of fortune disappear along the way? Going back to the safe side again would too humiliating for me.

Of lonely areas of interest

It’s not only because of my lack of professional and martial effort to read scientific and serious studies, or a deliberate isolation to practice my self-expression. While I’m not reading too many scientific articles, mainly in this area of psychology, I know I’m not finding my areas of interest in them.

I am not acknowledged in the area to know what is being talked about, but no student or teacher seem to even indicate me some authors. Not only that, they barely seem to understand what I’m talking about. Even if they do, they show a lack of interest that makes me go “whaaaaaaaaat?”.

No one is talking about mindscapes. Hell, no one ever refers to what I’m calling crests: there are some texts by Freud referring to it just superficially (he uses the expression residuous elements, I think), as if it wasn’t a goddamn matter of interest or relevance. The closest I got to regurgitation was some articles on Altered State of Consciousness. No word about something like the Wehmut Process, or Masks for unconscious manifestations.

And even if there are people talking about it, I can have the secret joy to know these sessions of self-taught analysis are bringing me one strange result: my explanations not only seems to understand some mnemonic phenomena well, but the explanation is also allowing me to take deeper steps, which isn’t usually possible with cracked arguments.

Maybe I’ve convinced myself of those things and even unconsciously made things behave this way to fit in my theory, but I don’t think that’d be all. Why would that be easier to conceive than the idea that I’m just understanding these processes more easily exactly because I’m letting go of all this blinding academic model?

Of self-study and self-expression

There are moments of crossed rims of perception that make me realize I really talk way too much about myself in here. But I shouldn’t come myself to it with short-guessing and think I’m just one egocentric and pretentious fuck.

These exercises of mental exploration and attempts to understand the world without external reference are very useful for practicing the expression of my own creative efforts. After all, this is something that lacks in academic procedures: we’re always  goddamn copying opinions – even when we have an idea, we have to prove them by showing other authors who have had them. How good can that be?

No, what I need is to develop my own vision on how the world works, and find my own way to express them. This exercise breeds some very important qualities. Practicing nuclear descriptions can make my writing more swift and elegant, for instance. But the most important of them all is that I am getting myself free from the academic chains. Maybe a little too free sometimes, but still a freedom that has an incredibly refreshing scent to it.

Of casual flirtations with science

While I have my contentions against academic procedures, I have never had any problem whatsoever towards actual science-making. In truth, I find its clean and objective approach a very solid warranty for trustful diagnostics and solutions.

The problem is that, although I have a fascination towards those human areas like psychology, anthropology and history, I usually get too overwhelmed by the way the subject is dealt with sometimes. Usually it’s something neighboring my allergy for academy.

Still, I know my low researching knowledge is mostly a matter of half-hearted dedication and lacking commitment to my areas of interest. I have to start reading some thicker books and absorb more knowledge. It’s actually a comforting feeling to know I’m doing something the right way, even though it might be a false sense of security.

Of forbidden vices in writing

As I keep exercising my writing skills, my perception towards vices I have grows. The more I write, the more I notice there are words and tendencies that I use that I consider more limiting vices than an actual writing style of mine.

For instance, I have forbidden myself of starting paragraphs and sentences with “I am” or “it’s”. I also have a tendency of overusing the words “sometimes”, “maybe”, the expressions “after all” and “it seems”. Sometimes the vagueness of using “thing” is a limiting vice I’m also trying to overcome, as it prevents me from trying to express the things I feel in a really accurate way. Other vices that bother me are extremely long sentences, usually taking several lines to make one idea complete, instead of separating it into several smaller phrases to let the reading flow with pauses for recovering breath.

However, it seems vices aren’t extremely harmful and useless. Vices can be used as templates, a solid base that has to be reversed or improved. For instance, I can only simply take “things” away and replace it with a more accurate description.

But my efforts are bringing me results, even if slightly. Something that also seems to improving is the roundness of my texts. While I’m still in the double-three rule, I’m making a more martial effort in making my texts feel like having a purpose of their own.

Back to my first post my intentions were set: I first needed to unload the overloaded mind of the thoughts occupying space and preventing new ones to come, and then worry about developing it with writing experiments. I sincerely didn’t think I would come to find a way to do it, but I’m truly finding a way to express things I wouldn’t dream before. Not only that, but hey, leitmotifing and chainposting seem to be a very ambitious experiment. I’m still being true to my very first post. Hooray!

Of being carried by the winds (automatic and manual labor)

There’s no control I have over when a trance is going to happen, or when one of my sorrows is going to wake up again. It’s one of the current issues I’m trying to comprehend better, this incapacity to do things because I have to wait for these winds of fortune or turbulence to carry me around.

There’s not much room for pride here as a huge chunk of what I achieved was done almost instinctively, or something. All that requires an actual effort from me is flawed in some way. For instance, these ideas I talk about might be interesting, but the execution is poor. Everything that comes from my direct attempts are trifling.

It’s one of my main concerns, having no control over what’s going on. I’m only lucky to have these ideas coming to me, they are natural to me. It’s the same for this motivation that makes my struggle constant. And that’s the reason why I dread so much any sign that these automatic forces might drain out.

Of behind-the-curtains

Dreaming is a constant activity of my mind. Going about wild reveries is so easy to me I find it hard to see others having difficulty to create. But as a compensation for that my ability to make my dreams real is laughable. So my dreaming is, at the end of the day, awkwardly useless.

In the real world, ideas have to be practical and somewhat possible in order to be accepted. The logistics in the world reduce the applicability of ideas to an extent that hurts the hearts of us dreamers. But overcoming limitations is one of the things that make my dreamer side warmly challenged.

More than the prospect of having my ideas materialized in a way that is the closest to the project in my mind, I like understanding the circumstances that can be limiting to a satisfying conclusion to the project. Almost as much as choosing the right colors for expressing the ideas, I like seeing how the paint closest to my vision reacts to different surfaces, which textures reflect light the way I expect it to. Or then making the best artistic choices within the lowest budget, which can be a Nuclear Victory.

The making-of that apparently nullifies the magic can be almost as magical to me, as it represents the witnessing of seeing a dreaming coming true.

Of refrained potential

The fear I have of not getting anywhere in spite of my efforts is so great that I think I might unconsciously be holding back potential because of that. And as this realization showed up, the fear suddenly was unearthed together.

The unconscious belief in my mind is that if I am to unleash all of my potential and nothing happens, then I will be devastated. The outcome is then of half-assed attempts and frequent postponement that will let me avoid this terrible reality. Usually my unconscious beliefs are thick as a brick, but this time I am afraid this one might be true. It’d be a nuclear defeat that would take much too time for me to recover from.

Honestly, I only know what to do until some extent. Maybe I should try bending my mind not to worry too much about it all, but this whole silence towards everything I do is traumatizing. The future is such a frightening beast, and I can’t avoid it forever.

Of Loudening’s Zone

Social skills were never my strength. Being surrounded by people has always been intimidating to me. I just don’t feel comfortable. And it feels that, whatever I do when I’m around them, all of my skills are turned steeply down.

Confidence is what is needed for the loudening of the skills. It was something I wasn’t able to do even alone, but now I’m getting strong here. But my intention isn’t to remain here (Csillag knows of that). For my talents to have any purpose, they can’t be used for my own pleasure.

But it’s a true struggle getting myself confident in front of others. It’s not a matter of shyness. No, it’s just one of these complexes that I have about of my image (though, yeah, it renders me timid). However it goes, lately I’ve been trying to convert that. I’ve been practicing my drawing in front of other people, and I’m getting more used to it. I still don’t feel much of a change yet, but I’ll try bolder steps to test it out.

Sobre variações

Depois de um ano inteiro treinando meu inglês, escrever na minha língua materna é um tanto estranho. Apesar de ser o idioma que uso diariamente e no qual tenho mais aptidão, ter meus trabalhos secretos sendo feitos em uma língua diferente acabou criando esse interessante efeito de sentir o inglês intimamente relacionado com minhas ambições.

Ainda assim, apesar de todos meus exercícios serem em inglês, nada supera a versatilidade ao estar trabalhando com algo que você realmente tem controle. Afinal, não é nada raro eu estar frustrado com meus textos quando sinto que minhas habilidades com a língua inglesa me deixam limitado para expressar minhas idéias com perfeição.

Apesar de este blog fazer com que, estatisticamente falando, a maioria dos meus esforços para alcançar meus objetivos sejam em inglês, de algum modo minhas habilidades de me expressar em português não só se mantiveram intactas como pareceram se desenvolver junto com minhas sessões em inglês. Mesmo que esse seja meu primeiro texto em português nesse blog, esse texto surgiu com uma facilidade realmente espantosa. Talvez o treinamento com algo que te deixa menos desenvolto realmente tenha esse incrível resultado, ao se livrar das amarras.

Dizem que treinar outra língua faz com que uma das outras línguas seja menos usada e se enfraqueça, mas não acredito nisso (e talvez isso me ajude). Acredito ser possível manter habilidades extensas sem que isso signifique um desgaste incontrolável. Afinal, o que vejo aqui é a prova disso. Aparentemente essa transição entre as duas línguas é extremamente benéfico, pois a flexibilidade em manter as variações constantes e transitar entre sistemas parece ajudar o desenvolvimento, em vez de realmente causar enferrujamento.

Of Liber Novus idealization

There’s a certain dryness in my texts that I long to extinguish. As my self-expression efforts are making me practice my own descriptive skills, a certain specialization is being created as I lose the focus on making the texts actually attractive (though in my mind using accurate words would be appealing enough).

A certain embellishment could spice up the reading. And by embellishment I mean doing serious studies while still doing something beautiful. It’s a Jungian notion of reattachment of science and art, of the safe accurateness and appealing mysteriousness.

These are the grounds where I am developing my desired style. The more I spend my time here, the more I’ll explore this quintessence and mine motifs from it. For instance, it’s from here I’ve got Duodominium, Spices and Gusto Effect.

Of Duodominium

My heroes usually share a common trait. Most of them, fictional and fleshy, seem to have the ability to be good at whatever they do. It makes me wonder whether I’ve made my character through them, or I’ve chosen them as heroes due to this trait. In any way, they are always my inspiration to keep doing my best at whatever I am doing.

Other than my heroes, I’m always discouraged to try being good at everything. It’s not like I desire being a good soccer player or several other activities. The underlying trait  I admire comes through as the ability to go through opposite extremes, and do them both fluently.

I find such ability a sign of excellence that always keeps me inspired. Whenever I read an author that can go from comedy to epicness and do them both greatly, I’m always delighted. Whenever I listen to a guitarist who can shred and still do some groovy riffs, I’m always looking forward to absorb this skill.

This is a principle of mine that I had nourished for most of my adolescence. As it eventually was forgotten, it became an unconscious desire, but lately I’ve been making myself more aware of it through some siege on this delta ability to feel it exactly like I used to do back then.

Of flexibility

Being riddled with vices is the most harmful state I can find myself in. Vices are the kind of mindtraps that bring most damage to one’s work. Not only they make efforts lack elegance, but also the lack of new winds to refresh when exploring new grounds have the effect of making one’s arsenal of ideas and tastes very poor.

As a key principle of mine, flexibility seems to be somehow working in some areas of my life. After all my thoughts and feelings keeps feeling refreshed from time to time (with some poignant hazes in- between). New experiences and mindscapes allow me expand my psychic reality, and so I’m always with recharged batteries. If I were to be so entirely introspective without interference from the outside world, I don’t think I’d be able to keep moving like I am.

Still, as a key principle of mine, it also seems to have its clashes with this other one, solidity. Defining styles start to seem to me like one way to vices slowly can take control of me. For instance, I’m finding my style of self-expression, which I can develop and make me feel good as I do it the way I like. However, as I find my way, I can slowly feel departed from other ways. But not only departed, blind to them.

Of disassembled selves

Investment is turning into a risky business. The more effort I put into developing this inspired self, the more my other mundane self feels departed, as all elements of inspiration are extracted away from there.

This is the place where I feel comfortable at, where my insecure side is dampened by this isolation (however an increased paranoia). But I’m always being in contact with a reality where I’m so weak. I’m a fool if I’m not trying to make this strong part of me to leak in there.

I long for a future when this inspired self will be I control of the majority of my time. But it’s not uncommon for me to be inspired and to see my reflection somewhere and lose the inspiration as I’m reminded of this me I’m usually trying to get distanced from.
And until I get what I want, I’m always being unsettled by my sight.

But there’s something discomforting about this. These two lives I’m living sometimes feel like being stretched apart. I hope it’s only my imagination, otherwise one of these two wouldn’t bear the tension. And then the most fragile self would be destroyed somehow. Though it’s in the other side where I feel weak, I have no doubt the fragile side of this disconnection is this one.

Of limited but concrete identity

One of the old ideas that I have when watching things is how simplicity has a very appealing factor to it. Something concise has much more chances of being absorbed than overcomplexity of elements.

The hardest result to achieve, in my opinion, is to combine the fewest elements as possible and make them surface a very distinct identity. It’s something I see a lot in symbol-making.

Such idea seems to be very useful for the purposes of this blog. For example, the current leitmotifing exercises are making me work with a countless amount of themes, and that’s been very exhausting to deal with. It seems to me that choosing only a few of them for each monthly round is going to bring a more complete and rewarding result. The problem is, of course, knowing which of them to choose…

Of shapes in a metaphysical reality

When I was a child I used to imagine settings I could put stories to take place in. It could be a medieval period, or science fiction. It could be in a Jurassic times. It could be inspired by Russian, Scandinavian, Arabian, Japanese, Chinese folklore. It could happen nowadays, a world parallel to ours. It could be just ours, or some invented reality entirely aside.

Then I started growing aware of the zeitgeist settings. In the age of exploration, new mythical lands across the seas were to be explored. During the height of space exploration euphoria, the space was the mystery to be unfolded. But also there has always been a place for the exploration of the human mind.

Maybe it has always been about the mind. When I look at those stories bout spiritual worlds parallel to the human world, mainly in these Japanese stories, I used to see spiritual world as a place of ghosts and spirits. But then I realized it could be a simple metaphor for the world of the inner soul.

In a way, my force-characters seem to be shapes in a similar spiritual world. The Fire Ensemble and the Dark Army can belong to this metaphysical reality, these onirical lands created by my creative endeavours. The states of trances seem to me like the charged chi.

Of Samples of New Horizons

Vices are dangerous for the experimentation of the world. Thanks to them, we might become unaware of new things to be explored and felt. But here and there in the world there are people, places and pieces of art that can always make us feel with a broadened view of the world.

Though they can be found every everywhere, it’s in nature that I can find them more easily. Finding these samples is always a pleasure, because of their inspirational consequences. As they loosen our vices, they make our senses cleansed again.

They bring zephyrous winds that show us how wide the possibilities for manipulation of vertices are. But they don’t need and won’t even be able to show all these new possibilities. Not like they even need to, and that’s their charm. They only have the apparent capacity of hitting our strings the moment we needed them.

Of the appealing mysteriousness

Expectation always plays the higher role. They seem to play with our hearts that hardly are the same with the realizations. It’s the human heart that fills the vagueness of the unfolded with its own idealizations.

The mysteriousness of the expected is somewhat related to the Neighbor Mindscapes. Other people’s lives always feel much tastier than ours, because they are still unfolded. New things always feel fresh and interesting. This new routine, these new people, this new city, that amazing new song, etc.

But the exploration, proximity and solidification is the reason why sometimes things lose the magic. The quintessence fades from these solid shapes, and that discovered source of appealing mystery that once hooked us no longer exists.

It’s something that I remember feeling a lot in the entertainment world. The unfolded always brings unavoidable wonderings. As we hold an unread book in front of us, we will try to think of what is in it. We’ll be wrong for sure, but chances are the mystery that exhales from it will remain, albeit hidden, enchanting.

Of Secondary Wall of Consciousness

There’s a very frequent feeling I have of perceiving my mind working in two roads simultaneously. There’s always the main thoughts I have, and then there are those secondary thoughts that work around and interfere with the thoughts I have.

I’ve never heard noone ever talking a thing about such structure of the mind, so this could be a cracked argument. But it’s pretty clear to me this is something real, as it’s what allows the fusion of things and the making of exquisite meanings.

Mindwalking is also something that can only be explained through this theory. Regurgitation too is an experience that begins in the second wall and I manage to bring it to the main frame and explore its potential. Also, sometimes the realization of the ongoing second wall of thoughts also seems to bring these derailed thoughts.

This perceivable stream of involuntary thoughts can carry some resemblance to the unconscious mind (as regurgitating feels close to dreaming), it’s an important discovery to make. And however unfooled experts of the mind might be towards these introspective wonderings, they’re having undeniable results.

Of unconscious vortexes (only show up in dreams)

One of the unexplained subtleties around crests is the notion of what in the world makes something a crest. Somehow the explanation that crests allow future crests is an incomplete answer for me. I might have enjoyable experiences with pine trees as they’re a crest of mine, and so it’s a self-fueling cycle, but why they’ve become crests in the first place is the mystery to be unveiled.

It’s by analyzing my dreams that I have these questions flourished. Sometimes in my dreams I can find something from my routine being regurgitated. But it puzzles me as to why that graffiti showed up? It never called my attention, but somehow, to my unconscious mind, it had its meaning.

It’s clear to me that dreams are similar to these conscious regurgitations of crests. But as dreams deal with much deeper memories, it’s expected for forgotten crests to be unrecognizable, mainly in the mess that all those things become. Still, I wonder if I could perceive when my unconscious mind has met an element that would later get into my dreams.

If I’m not mistaken, that November ability I called Wide-awake Dreams, I was having the sudden ability to perceive things just too subtle for my mind to usually perceive. And then, by realizing it, sometimes I had the sudden feeling of immediate regurgitation of some kind. Eh, I wish I could retrieve that ability to describe it first-hand.

Of Masks (for unconscious manifestations)

Along my introspective observations, crests seem to be kept in some form of storage. The stored images and sounds from one’s experiences are later used in less conscious activities, like dreams and regurgitations. These shapes, colours, scents and sounds that express unconscious messages I’m calling Masks.

As the dreams are so throughout believed to be important messages from our unconscious mind, I’m prone to believe the things we see in our dreams are used by the unconscious to express itself. But masks can also be useful in conscious thoughts. For example, it seems to me analogies are possible because of this capacity we have of noticing the mechanics of other systems for expressing ideas that are hard to describe.

The first apparent rule for unconscious manifestation through masks is that it doesn’t seem to care much about being actually understood, other than being just some form of regurgitation. The meaningfulness of dreams over these imagetic regurgitation seems to me more a coincidence than the unconscious mind pledging to be heard. As far as I could notice, the apparent appealing mysteriousness of dreams because of the puzzling use of masks for its uses seems more because they are simply unconscious. We remind of dreams like stories and events being told, when in fact it seems to be more like juxtaposed regurgitations (like mindwalked places, people and events that), which explains why sometimes dreams mean nothing.

The way I feel it in relation to the regurgitation process, it’s just some sort of natural reaction of the mind, responding to the experiences we had. So far I didn’t have the chance to explore much of this natural reaction and its physics, but I’m most definitely interested to see how far I can go by observing those things myself.

Of Wehmut Process

To balance out the abilities my mind can come up with, there’s always stupid things I’m just incapable of doing. For instance, in disregard of mindscapes, I’m sometimes truly unable to taste things. It’s as if I needed inspiration for them to be felt and enjoyed intensely. I don’t know.

Anyway, my mind only makes my conscious side unable to feel them. Right below, these experiences are being recorded, and then only later they can be felt. I know this happens because of this effect I’ve called Wehmut Process. It’s been mentioned frequently around here, but it’s only now it feels good to be dissecated through writing texts (though this Double-Three Rule is making the dissections rather shallow).

The Wehmut Process is the development of the experience towards a memory of that experience. I generally perceive it as an installed memory or crest through the feeling of noticing the impact of the experience later, in future generations.

The effect is usually a longing to return to this experience (hence the german word). An early sign of the Wehmut Process is of an approved experience. If we are to take another spoon from that ice-cream, or listen to that song one more time, the wehmut process is already under way.

It’s sad to think there are things I can only truly taste after they’re gone. Once in a while I can feel one of those barely-perceptible mindscapes and right in time know they’re going to become some crests, and so, by foreseeing the forthcoming Wehmut Process I can enjoy it a little more. But still it gets to be empowered only after the crest is recalled. And it is a bitter taste close to the neighbor mindscapes, as it feels like belonging to a life that is not mine. The Outsider Complex is always around.

Of Regurgitation (artistic fountain)

There’s one perennial ability I have that travels the generations. With a fortunate frequency, I find myself able to create things in my mind automatically, involuntarily. I’ve referred to it before as artistic digestion, but as I am determined to find it important for my materialization exercises, a solid reference is needed and regurgitation is a better term (maybe it’s not, but it’s too late already).

Regurgitation happens in the back of my mind, in a semi-conscious way. I never see its beginning, I can only perceive I’m doing it halfway through. But when this perception happens, sometimes I can turn my whole conscious efforts to it without derailing it all, and if I manage to reach it safely, I can even try manipulating this regurgitated information. For instance, I can add layers of details or remove them, as if I was practicing the Layered Method. Or then overstretch vertices and play with the lines (pretty much what I believe Peugeot designers are doing with their cars in their sophisticated computer programs)

This mental phenomenon would leave me puzzled back one year ago as to how the hell it happens, but through my own experiments, now I find myself able to explain it better. Very suspiciously easy: it happens through crests. As they get into the mind through our experiences with the world, it’s only natural they’re stored in the mind and can influence our mental storage of information.

I don’t understand the subtleties surrounding it, mainly their apparent random appearances using erratic crests and mixing them in even more puzzling ways. But I know I can sort of play with that. As I can make efforts to understand my tastes and crests to be formed (through crest vortexes, I assume?), I can risk some lottery on trying images to be later regurgitated in my mind, such as pieces of armory and weapons that make my eyes shine.

As an addition, I’ve been growing aware to the notion that I can add different ingredients to expect them regurgitate together. For instance, I’ve found this book of rocks and minerals I bought to bring me frequent regurgitations. It’s been coming up along with Hindu statues and Victorian instruments. Yes, statues and other objects coated with ruby, malachite, agate gemstones. Eh, no wonder I’m so eager to develop my drawing skills.

Of Delta Falls Initiative

Sometimes I think of what I have already been and I no longer remember. Once in a while I have the strange feeling of recalling something that once had been a constant in my life, and it’s long forgotten. Apparently, these past selves are stored in my mind. And I wonder if it could be possible to go reclaim those past generations.

Some generations are made of routines, so maybe I could trigger them by reenacting old routines of mine. Some are, very unfortunately, pretty impossible to recover. But another trick under my sleeve would be to travel through my memories. And now when I think of it, I’ve been doing it unaware of doing what now I’m calling Delta Falls experiences.

The purpose for such initiative isn’t really just to toy around with it. Some past generations of mine really showed some very important abilities. There’s the highly treasured Musical Quintessences, but these are in a distance I’m not able to reach directly. For now, my Delta Falls expeditions will travel back against the stream over those falls that separate mental generations, to explore the most recent (thus accessible) past ones: March and April. If I can understand them better, whenever there’s a fall, I can go to them to reclaim some of the abilities from there that made me so strong before.

Of egotistical atmosphere

I’m pretty aware of the fact that the eventual reader of this blog could easily come to the conclusion that I’m just a self-centered man. Not only aware, it’s to me the default reaction. Sometimes I think of trying to convince them against them these petty realizations, but it’s mostly because of my loyalty to my path that I can’t change my ways.

No word would be needed to explain how conveniently short of guesses one would have to be to ignore the reasons why I’m so about me me me other than being indifferent to the rest of the world. I wouldn’t need to explain that, as I should just be aware of that, and not feel guilty of it. Mainly because there’s no reason for me to feel guilty about this. If I indeed were to be this self-centered, I’d have to bend me blind towards some things I feel.

Eh, I can’t avoid thinking about me. It’s the center of which my reality spins around, and it’s by dealing with nuclearities the surrounding reality changes. If I am to do something very altruistic to this world, it’s still through me that I’ll be doing it.

Of Idolized Realizations

As opposed to the negative polarizations people have towards us through petty realizations, there’s some other form of reception from the other side. It’d be a too benevolent acceptance of whatever is said, pretty much an idolization.

I won’t deny it, I am jealous of people who get idolized realizations from others. But it wouldn’t be such a grievance to me if I wasn’t seeing idolized realizations when, at the same level, I’m getting unfair petty realizations. It’s only quite annoying to see someone having petty realization towards you bearing idolized realizations on the same matters towards some one else.

It might not be a terribly harmful mindtrap while we’re not using the benevolence of the receptor for delicate opinions, so I don’t think it is really something that requires extreme vigilance. But it’s a mindtrap still, as fairness of judgment is concerned.

Of Short-Guessing

The limited perception we have can only so much be harmful. We should perceive that and try not acting like we know of the complex ways of the world and jump to conclusions too early. And there’s a kind of jump-to-conclusioning I’ve come to call Short-guessing.

I see this idea in the world when something outside the daily ordinariness being interpreted mistakenly because of limited range of possibilities on the side of the guesser. It’s easy to be exemplified. It’s when we see someone with an umbrella under a blue sky. ‘What an idiot, can’t he see it’s not raining?’.

It’s spooky frequent how much I see things like this happening, mainly because it happens in more complex situations than this one. And these situations end up being a bait for petty realizations, so this seems to be an equation for trying to see what other people think of us.

As a mindtrap that it is, we can never be too careful about it, the way we don’t really understand something when we think we do. Being aware of our ignorance is then a safer path than having things always too suspiciously clear in our minds.

Of reader’s reality

Even with my hardest efforts, this realm never seems to make true justice of the experience I’m going through. It’s because I know all these ideas are making a great difference inside me, but I wonder what is really showing up in here.

Writing on this blog has the one unexpected feedback that is to always make wonder what readers of my texts make of me. Someone quite egotistical, probably, the way it’s all me me me. Or then someone too unsure as I’m always changing the ideas and repeating them and creating names that are soon abandoned. Or then, I’m convinced, someone quite dreamy and innocent of the true hard paths.

While these might be some petty realizations, thinking of their silent judgment is very poignant, yet very important for making me cross rims of perception and broad my horizons. There’s always paranoia involved that bends my mind from here to there in matters of minutes as unsure my mind is about it all.

But if I manage to work with it and separate the grief from it, it might be a valuable tool. Also because I can study the logistics of writing to see why petty realizations are to happen, and study the better way to convey my messages in written form.

Of Psychic-bending

As the reality I perceive depends on the accumulations of perceptive knowledge, I start to wonder if things I think aren’t somehow validating my subjective reality because of my awareness of them.

If what I’m thinking is true, then this feeling that things are working have no use, as thinking of them makes them real. Everything can be so real that reality can become meaningless. It’s a confusing idea. It involves this weird feeling that Csillag or Trance are more solid because I first noticed them, and thought of them, and created their shape.

It involves the Creator’s Paradox as these creations might not be a perfect match to the quintessences in my mind, and so they becoming entities of their own that, being perceived as part of my mind, interfere with their newly-gained solid power.

Psychic-bending must not be confused with reality-bending. The differences putting them apart may be very subtle as neighboring these ideas are, but they exist. While reality-bending is being too dangerously convinced about a theory that it’s forcefully adapted to reality, the psychic-bending is more like the opposite mental structure. The mind would be much less sure of the definitions of reality, and apparently the first one to try could become convincing enough.

I’m not sure yet, but maybe the psychic-bending could come before the reality-bending. And if I think enough of it like this, I’ll probably find myself too convinced of it. Belief is powerful stuff.

Of psychic reality

The only things that exist to me are the ones that my mind knows. Lack of awareness towards matters implies lack of their existence. A limited range of consciousness is, I really believe in it, a sign of a very poor mental world.

Maybe I’ve always been unconsciously aware of that, as it was not a planned act of mine to find new perceptions of the world. Mindscapes and realizations have always been valued by me and know I know better why.

Crossed rims of perception is a concept very intimately connected to this idea, and being in this journey constantly finding for new tastes and refreshing new winds is an important trick for the broadening of my horizon.

Of Martial Methodism

There’s something that makes some names work magnificently, while others don’t. I don’t think it’s the Trance or the Quintessential Rule that determines the efficiency of a chosen name.

As I’ve named dozens and dozens and dozens of ideas here, there has been names of all kinds, and still each case was unique. There were names that were perfect at the moment, but not so much later. There was also the opposite, names that seemed silly but later revealed to work fluently. Some names worked well for some time until they stopped working somehow.

It looks to me I should control myself before severe namedropping, but it’s not like avoiding this overcreation would be the best resolve. In martial exercises, for instance, the more names I use, the more opportune. Sometimes what makes names work are their frequency. If I’m involving myself in any kind of analysis, recognized patterns will come and go and for that any kind of name.

Realizing this makes somewhat more tranquil about these naming issues. While I don’t think the abusive naming I find in old texts of mine had any hint of needed caution, at least I know it was an attempt to take part in this kind of analysis that brings very positive results in comparison to the drawbacks.

Of mistakes luckily recorded

It’s very poignant to me, putting myself in this condition. Writing for this blog and having my ideas shown to the world and letting my failed attempts to develop myself and understand what’s going on always bring a disturbance to my mind.

Even if I could consider my current state developed enough to captivate the benevolence of my readers, still there’s the issue of having all these past months full of clumsy texts and balled up ideas. If I was doing this secretly and if I were to find my goals, then no one would ever find the mistakes I’ve made. However, I don’t intend to erase my past, or to hide it again. Somehow, I think it might not be something incredibly bad, after all.

There’s the possibility I’m bending my mind for comfort, but I’ll have to try it to avoid this disturbing factor getting in my way always too often. Still, I have to count on the chance of having any sign of development to be spotted. If that’s a positive, then the chaotic and truly underdeveloped state from when I begun would actually serve me some good use as if it could be an encouragement to others.

Of Overcreation

My mind is overflowing with creative energy. But I know of the dangers it carries not to be disillusioned by it. While in the past it would be the ultimate accomplishment, now I’m aware of its aftergoal consequences. Without restraint, these overcreation issues are more a motive for headaches than glory.

Dealing with this overabundance of names and ideas becomes much more tiresome when some of them are creative missteps and the cracked decisions remain to haunt me. I have to contour these these deranged creations, as they seem only to bring short-term satisfaction.

Being careful with returning quintessences is now becoming too frequent to become almost become tiresome. Mostly because of the Fire Ensemble, as the flames are supposed to encompass most of what I feel. While these winds of creation aren’t being controlled, they bring an accumulation of returning quintessences that aren’t being resolved in time. The result is an increasing snowball of incompatible inventions over creations already thought of.

However, I must not think of the Overcreation strictly as a mindtrap. It’s something inherent of me, my quality and also my flaw. In the past it has been harmful, and I haven’t mastered it yet, but I’m slowly learning how to control it.

Of prizes of the recovered life

There are some hopeless situations in my life that make me incapable of perceiving any sort of future for me. It’s as if there can be no recovery for my fall. The drained energy makes me grieve with the prospect of not being able to keep marching again.

It’s easy to remember I’ve been through dead-ends so many times before, but I have the inability to recall the struggles of past generations. Mainly when I’m so out of energy that life seems a constant struggle to harvest strength to resist the pressures, that maybe giving up isn’t such a bad idea. After all, it has not always been actually a choice of mine to start crossing this uncanny valley to success – I’ve suddenly found myself there.

But somehow new refreshing winds always appear to carry me. New tastes of life make me so relieved that the strength is every time more valued when it’s recovered. The regained interest and inspiration are to be used like there’s no tomorrow. Of course, there will be falls again and I will lose it again. But next time I’ll be not only strong enough to be prepared for the falls, but willing to look for them.

Of post-depression mindscapes

Dead-ends have the horrible tendency of making the current situation feel forever incurable. All the poignancy I feel seem to have pierced and stained the life surrounding me permanently. The only feelings coming close to being enjoyable are the ones that I can only imagine others surely to be having, as this outsider complex drags me even below.

Dead-ends bend my perception of future. And so this lack of refreshing winds to hurl me around seems to extend for an eternity. The haze is disheartening, and as it stains everything, mindscapes that make me feel so refreshed are not only lost, they feel also like an imagined delirium, as dead-ends also bend my perception of past.

Somehow, zephyrous winds always come back. It wouldn’t feel possible, but they always do. And nothing like regained interest in life for it to be recovered. All of my interests suddenly shine again like a new sunrise after a never-ending storm. Golden treasures once lost can always be reclaimed.