Recommended Reading - Quantum Psychology

Quantum Psychology by Robert Anton Wilson on Scribd


This is one of those books that totally caught me off guard and ended up changing my perspective in very good ways. It may blow a few fuses if you're not prepared, but it will most likely be a really fun and engaging read anyway. Easily my number 1 book. Ever.

To my reader(s?)

I must offer a genuine apology for my public display of pitiful hopelessness stretched over the past week or so. As you are probably sick of hearing about, I am in the midst of quitting both ingestion of caffeine and inhalation of carcinogenic smoke containing nicotine. It has affected me much more strongly than I had imagined it would. Last night I was completely immersed in fatigue, depression, hate, and just plain misery. I think I'm over the nicotine withdrawal but this whole quitting caffeine business is really taking a toll on me.

So, I will attempt to avoid posting things that no one could possibly care about. Even though this is my blog and no one else's, I find myself a little ashamed of the poor quality of my recent posts. At the time of contemplation or suffering I use this as a forum to vent my emotions, but perhaps it's just not the best idea, and revealing a side of myself I am better off dealing with on my own.

That being said... There is something incredibly strange about what I've been enduring the past couple of weeks. Maybe even this whole year. It holds the general theme of a battle against evil within my own mind, but the strangest part is that I have the impression that winning will result in peace on earth. I feel myself receiving 'keys', magickal thoughtforms which temporarily fend away the encroaching darkness. But as soon as I find these mantras working, events will occur which negate those models for interaction and introduce contexts in which they do not work. This is part of the reason I'm trying not to tell people how I am currently viewing existence, because my viewpoint is changing constantly. In my mind I'm just sketching and erasing, sketching and erasing, but not quite getting a good view of what I'm drawing, or even what it is I'm drawing. I feel like in my mind I'm doing everything I can to tune in to an optimized stream of thought that will allow me to be at peace with my surroundings and to transcend the fear within me. But for some reason, that fear always seems to win in the end.

I want to think it's because I'm not really confronting it, but I have been for the past few weeks, and it's really, really hard. I always wanted to avoid the concept of "evil" but I have been experiencing something that I cannot label with any other word. It flashes through my mind like a sword in the dark, like the sudden sound of a lightning strike. I want to think it's been the source of all the pain in my life, maybe all of the suffering on earth, and I have a chance now to defeat it forever. I have been telling myself "I don't know what anything really is, I only know how it seems to me at the moment", like in Quantum Psychology. This frame of thought is helping me to think I am a lot more powerful spiritually than I assume I am, and that it is my purpose in this life to realize this.

What we think has a profound effect on our perceived reality. When I am meditating I become fully aware of the impact that the thoughts I am actively creating are having on my surroundings, they are actually one and the same, it just depends on what I am tuned into that creates my reality and its potential. And yet, there is this devil on my shoulder, there is something telling me I must forego exploring creative realms, and it does not seem to be a helpful presence. It seems to be something that is stopping me from transmutation, to keep me enmeshed in a cycle of submissive seeking outside for what I already have. This is my primary reason for quitting my ritual drugs, to realize I have everything I need and that salvation does not come from any outside force. I am hoping this will loosen the grip of the entity that has been attached to me for so long, with all of its masks, all of its deceptions of hope. My idea of salvation is something that one initiates on their own.

Deprivation

The past 8 hours of my life have been absolutely horrible. Ever since deciding to quit drinking corporate cola I have found it harder and harder to sleep. On the night of the 29th I only received 2 hours of sleep before waking up. I wasn't able to go back to sleep. Yesterday went somewhat normally, save for the usual delirium. But last night, as I attempted to sleep, I slowly realized that this was not going to happen. My sister's cat has been in heat for the past 3 days. All throughout the night, she makes an incredibly irritating and loud sound. Every rare instance where I began to doze off, she would start again. I cannot describe the level of powerlessness and frustration this stirred up in me. If I closed my door in a futile attempt to block out the sound, my dog would scratch at it wanting to come in. I only got 2 hours of sleep again because when I locked her in my room to have the door closed (and when the cat fell asleep or something) she scratched and whined again to get out, instantly waking me up. My entire body aches, my teeth are sore from grinding, my mind is being sucked into a vortex of hate, and just as an added bonus, sometime during the night my rabbit broke one of his claws and he is now nearly unable to walk from the pain. I just can't believe the snowball effect that is taking place. Every time I tell myself the universe is naturally good and it's just my perceptions that need to change, shit like this happens. We are clearly in what could be described as hell. Nature is beautiful on the outside but totally cruel and unfair on the inside. People who are innocent and actually care for others are punished the worst out of anyone, while people who lie and murder are given all the power that could potentially change things. It is truly a pointless, endless struggle to see anything here as being inherently good and balanced. If there is a god, he is a fucking bastard.

Lagomorphic Resonance

Today I decided not to indulge in my ritual ingestion of a particular popular caffeinated soda beverage. I'm on a sort of quest to detox my body of all undesired chemical dependencies. But in the process of eliminating this agent, I feel my mind coming back under personal control. No longer in an unconscious frenzy to destroy all beauty, I can feel something emerging that is very rare to me: Peace. Naturally, stimulants are not very beneficial in attaining this state.

I can't remember the last time I wasn't totally hooked on some kind of stimulant. Starting in elementary school I was drinking coca cola on a near-daily basis. My parents would buy the decaffeinated kind so I wouldn't be up all night. But even then, it had high fructose corn syrup in it. So the past 13 years of my life I have been under the influence of these stimulant chemicals. And for the past 13 years I have suffered chronic depression. I was lucky enough not to be put on any sort of medication. But I was also unlucky enough to never really have anyone to connect with. I have felt extremely isolated my whole life, due to events in my childhood.

To summarize, when I was very young, my mother treated me differently than my siblings, and she made me feel special and loved. She was also a violent alcoholic and a drug user and she and my dad fought constantly. She left our house suddenly around when I was 5 years old. My sisters hated me because my mom didn't treat them like she treated me. So naturally, they bullied me. My dad decided to make up for what my mother did, and he would treat my sisters better than he treated me, to make them feel special. So when my mom left, I was stuck alone with an unbalanced family that psychologically scarred me. I was silent most of the time, just thinking more than anything. I would wait for my mother to come back. My father was silent towards me, unloving, uncaring. Acted like I wasn't there. I know it's somewhat normal for fathers to treat their sons this way, but after being raised by mother to feel like I was smart and cared for, and then to have that presence disappear, well... You get the picture. It created in me a feeling of abandonment, of despair and loss, a feeling that never quite went away. When she came back I was already gone.

To love is to be loved. The goal of my life is to heal from these wounds and to transcend the factors that have caused this grief. I have taken under my care a small rabbit. He was my younger sister's before I returned from Georgia, having escaped the farm. My sister would disappear for days on end, and I took upon the task of keeping him fed, and introduced exercise and proper attention to his life. She had been planning on giving him away to someone (clearly, a sign of responsibility and love), but I did not trust any of her friends to properly take care of this rabbit. They're not the very reliable people. So he fell under my care, to no complaints. He is helping me to love again.

Mister Mystical's Crystal Mysteries

A sinister air of outlying false superiority is spreading through my mind like dense fog. In the words and actions of others I see an incredibly harsh judgement of myself where no such intent is ... intended. The being which has taken up residence in my mind is cleverly directing etheric spears from my brainwaves towards my heart. It has to be sneaky and act as if these ideas are originating from my true creative source. A sabotage of will, if you will.

My revealing self, the one who displays these deeply personal interactions, the one which analyzes and sees these illusions as such, is the one I know I truly am. A shredder of veils, a solver of brain-games, an ejector of demiurgic influence. In the act of disclosing the presence of a invasive darkness, this spiritual parasite, I have defeated it, checkmate, for it does not "exist" as any sort of truth, but is trapped within the confines of my analytical mindcycle. There it is isolated, and shall be purged with the rest of my faulty reality models. 

I have the slightest feeling that my writings as of late are very hard to follow. Maybe even meaningless to the observer who cannot find substance with which to feed their brain. What I'm doing is casting a sort of spell. The act of presenting these words to the internet-mind acts as an expelling force, the mechanics of which are extremely vague to me, but something is drawing me to the conclusion that this will aid in flushing this entity from my stream of thought and out of my being forever, allowing me to flourish, allowing my presence to be cleared of this primitive fear.

Spectres on the Screen

The Demise of Guys: How Video Games and Porn are Ruining a Generation

"Increasingly, researchers say yes, as young men become hooked on arousal, sacrificing their schoolwork and relationships in the pursuit of getting a tech-based buzz."


I agree with a couple of overall themes of this article. I know firsthand that video games and porn can be incredibly "addicting". However, having broken both of those "addictions", I would say the actual disease here is a lack of critical thinking and some sort of spiritual path. The real problem of this generation, as I see it, is a complete lack of any sort of foresight, any sort of motivation beyond acquiring money. Those of us who are lucky enough to get off of society's hamster wheels after high school see this immediately. Having once been what is now called a "New Atheist", the ideas of which were cast violently out of my mind soon after I was out of high school and began experimenting with meditation and drugs, I can easily say that it is a frame of mind that is a complete dead end and may be the most important factor of this "ruined generation". We are not taught anything that would be truly important to know, just a set of mental skills that will more easily convert us into servile tools of some faceless corporation.

With this article, the problem posited by the authors and by commenters is that by indulging in these vices we are incapable of being efficient drones. Some habits are just more profitable to our "benefactors", I suppose. Yet within this porn-and-videogames model, The dominator aspect of our output into the physical realm is reduced to an entirely mental interaction. Our emerging thoughtforms are what we now dominate, our creativity eliminated or transmogrified into seek-and-destroy urges manifest. The spectres on the screen are of our own dead dreams.

To what ideal do we aspire? Our aspirations lie just beyond this electronic window, the visual information displayed not damaged or pleasured by our internal transactions of primitive urges. Violence is being fomented in the cycles of the developing mind. When people say "go fuck yourself", it is something you really do any time you have sex, due to one only having immediate knowledge of one's own impressions. So the only difference between finding pleasure in a computer screen and another human being is the aesthetic association imprinted throughout one's life. However, that's only the sex part. The development of nurturing symbiosis with another human being is not attainable through a machine.

The video game part is a bit more concerning. From a very disturbing personal experience, I have related thusly: A few months ago, shortly after learning I could "embed" myself into a matrix-like superhuman ability-structure while playing a popular online game, the violence carried over into my physical form. The same night, I gave my rabbit a bag to play with, and he got caught up in one of its straps. In a natural fear response, thinking himself to be in the clutch of some terrible predator, he darted around the room in an absolute frenzy, smashing into the walls. Eventually the bag lost its grip on him and he jammed himself behind a bookshelf. It was the most horrifying thing I have ever witnessed, to see this creature I loved completely lost in his illusion of fear, hurting himself in the process of trying to escape. I could see the correlation immediately and did not play that game again for a very long time.

What does this mean? To me, it means there is no difference between killing through a surrogate in a virtual dimension or killing in "real life". Either way, you are accessing and enacting some latent wish to harm, and carrying it out in mental space.

This is not all doom and gloom. It means that what you seek in your world is already in your imagination and subject to a psychotronic relay. However, our priorities and goals must be clearly outlined. Personally, I am seeking love, wrestling with some internal demon for control of my interface.

Virus Alert

During and after my meditations lately I've been reaching a strange place in my mind. I am tuned into extreme polarities, what one could call switching between heaven and hell. It almost seems like pure luck that I tune into either, and when I accidentally go to hell, it's not fun. In hell mode, every move I make is advanced by some inner force of darkness and my thoughts are invaded by sinister entities that take over my energetic form and make it perform incredibly evil acts. My way of breaking out of this trance is to place my awareness back into my physical body, to settle into the structural balance inherent in this universe. This is limbo, you could say. Proving to myself, I am not doing those horrible things I see in my mind's eye, I am sitting here calmly and at peace with my surroundings. It's a blessing that we are not constantly spiraling into the chaos of lost autonomy.

My heaven mode is where I decide that I, as a loving being, am in charge of my perceptions. Everything makes sense, and it's far beyond any sort of rational explanation, or reason to explain to others because they must find it on their own. When we are in pain, we view our entire lives as taking place within that pain realm. When we feel that all-encompassing love, it is all we have ever known. Yet they act as analogs, references to one another. We exist at the merging point of those analogs, we are their transaction. We are the energy of their interactions and fluctuations - we created them.

So, lately I've been far too mired in hell mode to really explore different perceptions. This archonic entity is acting to prevent me from altering reality too much. And in a weird way, I am appreciative of that. I know that I must listen to the heartbeat of being more to be able to do this properly. Something is speaking as if to say "so, you've figured out that your mind and your reality are one, what will you do if thoughtforms that are not your own end up in your mind?" Is this paradoxical? And could it just be showing me viruses in my holographic mindfield that could be screwing up my reality? I am convinced that our consciousness is far more influential upon our relative realities than we are aware of. One of my more frightening drug experiences involved me coming to the realization that by observing conspiracies and demonic alien forces, I was creating their reality. I alone, as a quantum observer, was responsible for the terror and iniquity of the world I found myself in. Which is, of course, why shamans are important. My only consolation within this total hell I find myself in from time to time (more often than not lately) is to actively direct my thoughts, to clear my mind-space of archetypal influence. I become nothingness, I clear the slate so to speak, back to the drawing board. I am not the artist nor the art, I am the act of art becoming and all variables involved.

We only know as much as what we're thinking about at the moment. We build big houses of cards and sometimes live in them for our whole lives, constantly in fear of inevitable winds, or approaching pachyderms. However, my interactions with the universal mind as of late are troubling. Synchronicity is informing me of a darker truth than what I am comfortable with. Something involving time loops and what Mark LeClair refers to as a "false womb". What's good is that there is equal response to negate or transmute this notion. My daily ventures into the vegetable biosphere are soaking me in the most undeniable beauty. I cannot observe the majesty of these trees, their deep, glowing hues of green in the foreground of the pink sunset without feeling like I am somewhere so pure and perfect, tarnished only by the cold logic of man's systems, of culture's needs, of our selfish stupidity in contrast to the wisdom of animal and plant kingdoms. There is something to be said of the beauty we have the option to interact with on a daily basis.

It's very important to consider your role in what you see around you. Some associations stick more than others due to the aesthetic in which you initially experienced them. But if those wear out, one should always go "back to the drawing board" and re-associate. You have that power, although from personal experience, it is not easy at first. I like to try and observe things without using words. What becomes important to you about that object? How do you see yourself as affecting it non-locally? How can you use this associative restructuring to make life better? To assume that one could simply be fooling oneself into delusions of grandeur by doing this would be implying an absolute perceivable reality to which all should subscribe, which is of course completely ridiculous.



"Everything should be constellated outward from the perceiving self. That is the primary datum." - Terence McKenna