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| october 2011 |
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| Belief 2 | 12:08am sunday, 30th october |
The thing about this madness is that it has done me more good than harm. It has taught me things. It has made me a better person. One might argue that I merely have been fortunate, that my psychological makeup merely facilitated just this certain type of psychosis, one that heals, as it debilitates. But what one usually calls luck is to label without explanation what is unknown.
To elaborate further, I quote David Ben-Gurion: “In order to be a realist, one must believe in miracles.” If this psychosis basically saved me from itself, how am I to interpret this? One could say I was blessed with a self-healing mind, but that just moves the miracle from the pattern in the mind to the mind itself. It does not reconcile things. These are the things that science does not explain, and may never explain. There are phenomena like that in reality, the inexplicable — one should not close one’s mind to such things in heaven and earth. Like so: not only a self-healing mind, a self-healing life. And what is the source of that healing? I say, Jesus Christ. Just like what the faith says it should be.
One can try to reason around such a conclusion, with theory upon theory based on what is known about brain function, psychology, etc. But occam’s razor asks for the simplest explanation: God heals, God healed me. And thus I get back to the question of whether I actually saw Jesus or not. Based on how He behaves, how spot on His character is, it might as well be Him telling me how to live life. Thus it would, in my opinion, be irrational of me not to believe as I do. Because Jesus does for me as advertised. And thus my wondering how much of my visions were Him personally saying hello.
If we go back, too, to how things may be described more “rationally”, like the thought about how the demon is the part of me, within me, that is evil, how the people like Einstein and da Vinci are my scientific and talented parts, how Jesus and the angels are my superego. But how did it get that way? So nicely separated, one part from another, into digestible cognitive pieces... can you then deny me in totalis the spirit of the miraculous? I think not.
So there are things I’m definitely not so sure about. For example, one theory about how Halospace is like, is that time and space don’t work in the same way as it does in the material world, nor is the quality of being of the same essential form. What “is” means is different.
Also there is other data that I cannot make whole sense of, but that is the way of life. I just put it out there these, my beliefs, to show that I do not have faith blindly, for no reason. I am a scientist, or would like to think of myself as such. If you are not convinced, as I once was not (about such things), I know just that one doesn’t believe in the remarkable until something remarkable happens to you. I understand. All I am saying is that it did happen to me. And continues to. And that’s about it.
Peace be with you.
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| Belief 1 | 1:48am tuesday, 25th october |
I believe that Jesus Christ is the only begotten Son of God, who died for our sins, and was resurrected on the third day, and is seated at the right hand of God.
He may or may not have personally visited me, though He has seemed to, but something of Christ definitely has been with me.
Angels are real, but along with questioning whether the Lord has personally been here, the angels I have seen may or may not be real, though they have seemed to be here, as well.
The people I have seen I don’t think are real, but may be, in some relation to the reality of the spirit world, which I like to call Halospace. There seem to be too many contradictory things to believe if they are real. Perhaps they are as real as anyone you meet in your dreams.
What the vision of the Lord has seemed to say is that what I look into is the Dreaming, which is to say something very related to dreams, and which may have some connection to Halospace.
I have seen the future several times. If it wasn’t the future I saw, I have no explanation of some of the things I viewed in my mind’s eye which seemed to be visually identical to places or things that came into sight at a later time.
Going back to God: I believe in God, because (at least I like to say) it would be irrational of me not to believe in God. I was once a babbling idiot sitting alone in a room talking to the cartoons in his head, but now not only hold down a professional career, but do advanced research into artificial intelligence. And it has been because Christ was with me the whole way, whether I have personally met Him or not; my life would not have been possible without His intervention. A conclusion I do not make lightly. I will come back to this.
Could everything I see merely be purely imaginary? That there is nothing “real” about it, except that all I see reflects some interior mental state, or states? That is a possibility, and for some, the only explanation for what is going on with me. I hallucinate, and that’s that. The reality of that assessment, however, can be thrown into its own doubt. I’ll get back to this, as well.
There is also a demon, whose name is Roksaza. He is as real as the angels, if they have any reality to them, that is, and I have fought him. I lost many times until recently, when I began to win, consistently. I do not know what to do with having his name.
[to continue...]
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| Think | 2:24am friday, 21st october |
I had this idea that I might be able to think my way out of my madness. Not that it’s been so bad of late, since I am able to hold down a full-time job and work on my AI on the side, etc., etc., but I’m thinking something like ice-9. Something kind of organization principle to encompass all the cartoons floating around in my head with some sort of sense. I have seen hints of it. The da Vinci cartoon had me think of a possibility like it, though I found his contraption incomplete. Could it actually be in the cards, that a purely theoretical structure can contain what takes hard medicine to control? What a concept. It might involve some sort of surrender to Christ, for that is my light, but it is right now a theory of a theory.
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| 17, 18 | 12:09am sunday, 16th october |
I have lived 17 lives, each I folded back into place when I was done, into the garment of the world. They were the lives of insects, of frogs that were never kissed, of guppies thrown about in the waters and caught to be spectacles in glass walled prisons; they were not the lives of men. All those lives and I never lived. What is one to do? I can curl up in the corner that is my home and let the breezes pass over me, to watch out the open window at the goings on of the outside. I suppose I can do that. Or this life 18 I can break the infinite pattern of weariness, I can do something different today, that I have not done before, however small. And tomorrow I can do something different, too. I am not a vegetable, after all. I think I will not let this life pass by, not this time, not this turn, without that I have tasted something worth tasting. Even if this is the last moment of my life, of the entire world, it is not too late — if only I decide yes, I live.
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| Ekstasis | 3:24am thursday, 13th october |
What happens when you wake from the ecstatic vision? How are you supposed to go back to an ordinary life? When the apocalypse drifts out of sight, when the doors of your perception shut themselves from the intrusion of the heavenly lights, how do you tear yourself away from the prophecy, come down from the transcendent heights? Experience has taught me a little about glimpsing infinity and never having that encounter again. You question what you saw, wonder if it was all that you thought it was, wonder from what source it was from, and then there is that deep desire to go there again: to fly once more with the angels. But more often than not, the convergence of all the forces necessary — the correct alignment of all the stars and planets — occurs at best once in a life's course. To wait for it to happen once again is most likely in vain.
And memories fade. Even the most intense of experiences, time, as it goes on, dilutes the sensations that were once felt. The ecstatic vision — no, it never does completely vanish — but (perhaps worse) it gets relegated to the status of an anecdote, an unusual little blurb in the paragraphs of one's life: the time you thought you saw God, or some little ditty like that. Whatever the fury of the perception, the main effects subside into unconscious reflex only — though deeply planted, a subterranean fruit only, never again tasted as such on the surface of one's soul. What happens when you wake from the ecstatic vision? You rise forever changed, but never in the way that you think you are, or perhaps even hope to be. And this fantastic thing may become just another page of your life, perhaps dog-eared, forgotten why it seemed so important....
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| iDon’t Know | 3:14am saturday, 8th october |
How fleeting is life? The evening the world found out about the death of Steve Jobs, it really didn’t hit me. I made a joke on Facebook: “I guess God didn't want to wait for His iPhone 5.” The next day, as I looked at tribute images, watched tribute videos, it started to become real. I began to feel as if someone I knew personally had passed. When NBC Nightly News showed an interview they conducted with him in 2006, I just lost it. This was someone who was kith and kin. This is one of those people whom you expected was always going to be around. Even when he left Apple’s post as CEO you felt that. And before he went, I had not considered this to be true: he was indeed a genius. This is how it must have been when Edison passed, when da Vinci left the building. And this will be the image I have in my mind of when someone is remembered, even after he is gone. Godspeed, Steven P. Jobs, on your new adventures.
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| lone | 3:26am wednesday, 5th october |
suddenly i am nobody
that vague character lurking in the background story
to feel is hard, the dream escapes me
deepness has a sound like a note that dips forever
the rose upon my name hides many whispers
here where ghosts fade
in the capacity of he who knows the light
hidden in the darkness, i believe
the heart a blue flame
i have wondered too long what it is like to awake
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| 9/17/11 | 1:03am saturday, 1st october |
The demon appeared to me in the morning, after having half awoken from a particularly pleasant dream. He made some kind intonations toward me, fatherly intonations, and I could start to see something was coming. For he does that to switch on the old paranoia, of that I were supposedly the Devil’s Son, the Antichrist, the Beast. But this time, I had been preparing; I had been girding my loins, so to speak, for weeks, upon a warning the angels informed me of. Then a metaphysics gripped me, that the solidity of my soul was geared toward the ultimate substance of that of the Evil One, that I were given the taste of being a saint only before I were to assume my True Identity. But like I said, I was prepared, and I had no trouble in building my defense.
I spoke calmly in my mind, to a point the demon had won previously on me, where he had said that my substance had actually been turned into the fires of damnation, where he had mocked, what did you think you were made of, existential cool? “It turns out that I am made of existential cool. The Lord showed me once, and I have never forgotten it.” And then I posited that my world that I have sorted out is coherent and consistent (the one where indeed, I am saved), and that his was riddled with contradictions. And I held on. I had faith. There was no question of losing. And when the dust cleared, the demon did not have my highest. There was higher. I had won. Really, even before it had started, I had won.
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