Forkbender
Holofractale de l'hypervérité
- Inscrit
- 23/11/05
- Messages
- 11 366
What's your favorite technique for mastering the mind? How do you go about it? How often do you do it? Does it work?
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confusing statement, calrify?Nomada a dit:there's nothing like writing some thoughts and then trying to run from myself...
Nomada a dit:for example: [I feel] some things are said and done mecanically, mechanically as in hidden from attention, but as I was raised in a nest of cheap pleasure and complacency and was always such a unsuccesful merchant I became a complacency whore: saying and doing things for the sake of not rousing the incomfortable, the criterion for what was right was never leaving and always searching for what was comfortable. For example: I was always nice to everybody because I needed them to be nice to me. So, as much as my alineated consciousness could float in worlds of anything in the ground I always looked for the petty pantomime of "it's all right, everything is going to be fine" as an explicit form of comunication completely dislocated from my actions and my will: I learned to stand still in the face of every material urgency because I was afraid to let anyone down. Of course, this is completely contradictory.
Talking, or words, became infected with this bot not just on the outside, as in a mask, for purpose or whatever, but also on the inside, the voice of the inner dialog, because I had taken this charade way too far. But now that gig of mine has been exposed and I know whenever I just say things to stay put. Writing things down dissects them in the explicitness of words on a screen (I use wordpad for the diary, used to do it on my notebook but I stiff at the slowness of my hand) so when I read them sooner or later along a couple of pages I just know it's the big old me with the sad excuses again and my previous mind that simulated (as in not actually living) all the worlds of ideal can descend on my programed mind, turning myself against "myself" and offering the possibility of not running away from myself again and tearing its hideous limbs one by one, in the comfort of a .txt file. If I turn against those circuits in the comfort of words I feel I take some of the will that was stolen when I am actually living. I feel close to myself, like an ecstatic sense of identity with a very angry beast.
Maybe this was a more ambiguous statement. lol.