Of Vesta's ceremony

 At the beginning of this year I was attempting to make this Vesta's year. It failed. I couldn't get the hang of myself and keep myself disciplined. Suffered from a health issue that made me extremely tired and indisposed. I'd sleep in pain and most of my time I'd be hanging around the internet aimlessly.

Instead of judging her guilty (and being so disappointed with myself), I looked inside and followed her steps. And I saw how her job is much more complex than it seems to be. It's like when we easily judge mayors and other administrator for some clear mismanagement but we don't see how their work is much more beyond that.

So I realized I got so used to being me that I sometimes forget what a silly pityful being I am, and in the outcome she just seems the most potent force inside me. Couldn't she destroy them dark feelings, but she did refrain all this hatred and frustration. And that's one amazing achievement. All this painful stream was mostly directed inwards. It doesn't affect others for I shut down to a self-destructive quietude.

Maybe this is all but a comforting lie I'm telling myself to get a peaceful night rest. It might be, but I don't care. In spite of all her mistakes, just when I think all she puts up with... I hope that would be my own notion of maturity, to bear with circumstances in spite of what they do with us inside. Just when thinking of all the troubles I avoid for knowing what they will bring me, that's one very wise act on my side.

Of Exoverses

 Finally I've got myself another refreshing branch of the innerverse concept. Unlike just unravelling my own inner world, this is about exploring life out there. It's about understanding how others behave, and how they perceive the world. Every one has got enemies, weakenesses and they all work with the same prime words, they just have different meanings to them, or place them around differently. Each person has their own weight to concepts. How is their notion of being tired or skilled. What means to them being in love, or what is an outrageous behavior.

And how would other people's feelings be stringed? Would they have one big monster chasing them? Would it be a very well protected city? Would they be constantly tormented day and night? Is it an empire built over a massive dungeon imprisoning one single apocalyptical monster miles below? Is it a place in a deep valley, walled by giant mountains that prevent sun from getting in? Or is it a gigantic empire over the hills, an impressive civilization, only though with hidden dirty under the rag? Maybe is it a very simple kingdom, however free of bellical conflicts and economical issues?

That's the point of this exostudy, for me to see how other people feel. How different it could be to string other people's lives, how refreshing that would be. How it would open my eyes... Like the search for exobiologic signs is based upon the premise it can expand our own knowledge about our own terrestrial life, my own exostudies can expand my self-knowledge.

Of Arterial Guidelines

 It feels slightly disturbing when I feel I am working with possible returning quintessences. It's like I am dealing with some potentially dangerous outlawed idea. Or then distressed, as if dealing with people who've gotten their share already, and came back hidden in disguise for another portion.

Right in front of me there's one lad I'm pretty sure has been mentioned here before, back to the days where I was building some artistic principles of mine. I haven't got time to check the files and documents, so I can't prove it has been already here before. Either way, there it goes another attempt to have it as a sealed quintessence.

This is one of the helping techniques to make solid designs. Whenever there's a messy confusion of lines or that there's nothing standing out clear in the composition, I've learned that I can use this that I've been calling Arterial Lines to show the most relevant aspect of the highlighted part of it. And not only that, it has an style to it that gives the image a very polished appeal to the shapes with outlines engrossed.

Apparently this helps the brain to understand and process the exposed image with more ease, which brings him joy. The thing is that it's very much present not only in images, but also in music, or in stories. I do feel the Arterial Guideline, very distintictively in these different modalities. It indeed is one nice tool to have around.  

Of Sealed Quintessences

 Though last month I had this needlework a little better wrought, with a story interwoven through the texts, the expression of the meaning of each thought of mine in there was sacrificed in exchange. By trying to make them fit in a storyline, I lost a lot in the terms of definition of these texts, like what I meant with fraud, jealousy or being uninspired.

I felt that it was so incomplete under this circumstance that I should even maybe rewrite them. They weren't unloaded effectively, and there were uncomfortable remainings of them. That is something that bothers me a lot, when a piece of work leave these traces behind.

When I compose something that pretty much represents almost perfectly the feeling I am trying to express I am calling a Sealed Quintessence. It's when I name all these ideas and feelings, and in this name I try to have the essence concealed. Sometimes I can get it right, and sometimes I don't. When it doesn't work and the quintessence has leaked around, it's when returning quintessences happen.

My objective is to make transferrence occur without leaks. The better sealed it is, the chance of having returning quintessences and rq trials decreases. But quintessences do show different degrees of resistance against sealing. They might have different categories, like feelings that I can easily transform into gems.

But it also seems to depend on their depth of my oceanic perception of them. Ideas in thalassic level will show a higher probability of being inaccurately sealed. It's better to wait to fish them out only when they're lured close enough to photic surface. The biggest ideas, though, won't come so easily...

Of Thalassic Fishing

 While I feel I have lost my powers, I've been trying to understand what is it that I've been doing here all along. What kept me in here for more than two years? What is it that has moved me and kept making me having constant thoughts, enough to generate a full book worth of content?

Apparently it seems that what I do is to perceive those mostly neglected thoughts and bring them to surface. It's my job to feel those very faint signals of thoughts, and bring them up, where I can analyze and admire their beauty. Usually they bring secret treasures with them, as they make me understand little factual aspects of my daily life, in the most braudelian fashion possible.

This is how introspective incursions have helped me, by making me understand so much about myself. All these psychological theories I've got came from this, and later practical uses I've got from them that leaves people so impressed are a proof that this is a good job for me to have and to get better at.

The thing, though is that I require these sensitive sensors to be able to feel those things. The decreasing of my sensibility, even as slightly as it can get, already gets in the way of the productivity. It seems to be all that matters, so I must work to keep it as sharp as I possibly can.

Of living in sprints

 It's always been a very essential question to me, knowing whether I am beyond or behind (who knows). There's always evidence indicating me as someone awkwardly behind, at the same time here and there I get some comforting signs that I have my own worth. The question that remains is whether these are coexisting or followups of each other.

Though sharp reasoning tell the probability of coexistence as I tell of being behind in some aspects of my life (mostly of social nature, of course) while beyond in other areas, such as unbound creativity (with no evaluation of financial gain, of course). But I get some indications to the contrary. I can get behind on both, while I can also get beyond on both, and I don't know very well why.

My life is bland and uneventful, except for occasional outbursts of dense productivity or social participation. Rarely at the same time (and when it is it's goldilockingly amazing), but to each it's a sudden moment when I wake up and run and do lots of things, all to settle down to slumber again for another time. Yeah, that definitely sums up my life. I suddenly wake up, look at my watch and, realizing the grave danged of lateness, I run, run, run. Then I feel that was good enough, and as the despair wears off, I decide to rest a little.

What seems important for me to ponder here is why do I decide to rest a little. Is it just because I feel I've done enough not to be late? Is that all that moves me? Is it just the last-minute panic that will always scare me to move?

Of Capital People

 Those highly influential forces are very dangerous when hiding behind thalassic curtains. I have to uncover them, and understand thoroughly all these emotions and drives that move me. For instance, why do I seek the people I seek.

It's clear to me we all seek people who have life in them. We just have different assumptions on what having life means. I like those who have life around them, wherever they are. Whether it's intelligence or curiosity, their presence is vital to me, and I feel attracted to them, intellectually, or romantically sometimes as well.

It's like growing up in a place where people are all emptyheaded and, I'll be polite here, just plainly uninteresting with boring talk about beer and football and cars and women, and then you meet people with Ideas, and they seem to be aware of the big world beyond. They talk about international politics, music, science and world history. They might live in a very little town or a faroff house, but their presence and knowledge makes up for that. The opposite doesn't work for me.

And I like myself being like this, and it's a nice protection against solitude. It's also one of the factors that determine the way I string my life into the innerverse. It's one of these Gravity things that keep a rivalry between Ilium and Lazuria.

Of a slow march to death

What scares me about time isn't just how relentless it is when bringing us to death, it's how we start literally feeling it closer. In our weak bones, stiff muscles. It seems to exist simply to deter us from neglecting this inexorable fate, but to force us to acknowledge and face constantly that we are already dying.

I hate feeling the death coming closer to my body through the agency of time. It sounds so rude to say such a thing, but then I can't really tell if this is right or wrong to be said, but there it goes: aging is a disease that can't be healed. We get weaker and everything starts malfunctioning. We lose power and energy. We get trapped in sad, boring routines in order to treat our health well.

And the dreadful part of it all is that we adapt. We get used to living to it. We adapt to this condition. And that's not beautiful or reassuring. On the contrary, it's scary. We forget what we used to have. In order to survive, we supress memories of great experiences from the past.

We die, little by little, day by day. Each day when we get to read one less page, we're already tired. Each day we learn one less thing for being too worried about others things. We become less sentient, we become more like zombies. It's like slowly drowsing away, without noticing our belongings and traits taken from us, one by one.

Of Trygve's Roar

 Since his return, I've been paying attention to him, this Trygve guy. It's a power that I was sort of able to reclaim, and then I have been trying to understand him again so I could get better at summoning him. Or finding him again when he is going to get lost again in the woods.

Some of these traits of his essence I was aware before, and some I learned right when he came back. But then there seems always be some other unperceived notions to this strange, mysterious and always surprising character, and it's the essence of unsheltered courage.

That's about how to deal with life, how to adapt to it. Somehow turning the refuse down and accepting it makes the pain much less affecting. So if life gives you heat, bring it in. When you have scorching cold, open your chest towards it. Be willing to accept with open arms what is given to bring you down.

When life roars at you, you roar back.

Of Lifeframes (Zombie Period)

 There are siderooms full of unfinished and unexplored projects I've initiated through the existence of this blog. One of them I barely touched after I got the first woven thread was this one about Lifeframes. There I called it the Goldilocks period of life, when everything is so sweet and we keep routines we love to remember as an unchronological stream.

This new one, similar in several aspects to Goldilocks, is more of a downer. I call it the Zombie period. It's when our life is just going in an automatic mode. Day after day, we aren't driven by any passions. We just get out of bed, do our deeds, head back home, hang around something until time is up to go sleep again.

This is the result of a lack of motivation, a lack of reason to live. No self-steem to feel worthy of being passionate. Being passionate, we constantly are being taught, leads to suffering. This moment in life seems to usually happen after we fall from some metaphorical ladders, and is constant in stages of depression.

It feels like being trapped in the Samsara, so it's a terrible fate for someone to be living in this routine. Imagine lingering in this doomed state for years. Imagine that a good chunk of the world population live through this for most of their lives...