Sunday, June 30, 2013

Liberty

I'm re-listening to a church sermon right now and of course right now, everything in America is focused around July 4th. To me, July 4th is about blowing things up and eating gummy worms and South park and destruction with my late nephew. That is not what this entry is about.

Freedom is often the absence of necessity. In our bodies we will always be somewhat tied to things, with things owning us, because we need them to continue living. You are a slave to your water and food supplies. I want to step around that and look at applied freedom. 
I want to talk about mental freedom.

Most of humanity are slaves to their amygdalas, to their conscience. What all would you do if you had no moral hang-ups about anything, is "right" and "wrong" were just words. What if you didn't have the normal amount of anxiety.What if your security blanket were to be in your mind? What if your sub-conscience and your waking mind could speak back and forth, so that you know what you want to do and you do it deliberately. 
What if you could be standing in a house that is falling down around you, and still feel like you're going to be okay? 

Necessity is the mind are the "values" driven into your head, the ones that keep you from losing it and acting on your animal instincts. Necessity in the mind is dependence on reassurance of others, of writings, of stimuli. 
And liberty is given in the process of simultaneously accepting mortality and overcoming it.

Dizzy.


Saturday, June 29, 2013

Schrodinger's Rapist

I know my body language is not a good indication of how I feel in particular, but I do know I'm prone to giving off "leave me alone" vibes and I still get approached in person a lot. Of course, sometimes, this is fine. I am not entirely anti-friend. Usually though, it's not okay and I'm being approached for someone to inquire about my phone number. 

When I or any other lone female is walking through a dark Walmart parking lot, every unidentified male around is Schrodinger's Rapist. Pulling up to me in a low ride car and jumping out to ask me what kind of perfume I wear is a good way to make me into Schrodinger's Psycho and knock you out. 
This rule also applies to a variety of unpleasantness that is possible when involving a stranger in ones universe. 

Be wary of how you approach. 

Dizzy.

Schizoid Friends

I looked at my Youtube channel analytics today and my most popular video is still "Schizoid VS Aspergers" and I was so skinny back then damnit, but that is beside the point. I did more research on Schizoid today, even though my knowledge of the personality disorder is extensive.

I made that video before I realized that I had been misdiagnosed as Schizotypal (I'm going to say a more frisky Schizoid so I don't have to explain it all) because I have Aspergers and they are so similar. I talk to several people who have Schizoid Personalities. 

These are some of my most odd friendships. Schizoids do not care. They are not worried. They don't have any emotion about what's going on in their world much less mine. They don't ever want to hang out or even meet, but they like to stay in contact because I don't know why. Schizoids think a lot. A lot. I also do but with more motivation than they do so it makes a good relationship.
Neither of us have to meet in person, the Schizoid gets mental input for their personal reality and I get a case study and human interaction. 

Anyhow.... that's all for now... I've been busy all day.

Dizzy

On Extroverts

Most of my friends have been introverts. As I've gotten older, I have been drawn more to extroverts, although I grow more and more of an isolationist. I do not relate to extroverts at all. I have had numerous conversations about what the point is in many extroverted activities and I never quite get it. Extroverts are inclined to GO OUT to wind down from work. 
WHAT? 

I'll go out to forget my problems, which isn't advice anyone should give another person in a professional setting, but I do *not* go out to relax. I only learned to relax more when I made myself realize that my life is not a ladder but more of a complex mobile. This is internal processing, because I am an introvert with an N function. 

If I could change my type for a while, it would probably be to ENTP. I don't dislike being an INTJ, but I would like to see what someone with my specialties could do with extroversion and the ability to improvise. 

Dizzy

Friday, June 28, 2013

On Blood, Sex, and Denial.

My subconscience is Shiva. 


Since I am heavily focused on the sub-conscience, I've been wondering why I do what I do when I'm not calculating, which is something I do on a regular basis based on the theory that allowing my subconscious to play during the day (which it always has very actively anyway) will ease my life-long nightmare problem. So I have been doing exercises and I've also been doing some analyzing.

In the blog entry I posted earlier today, I mentioned that when I allow myself to draw freely, blood is often in my pictures. It's almost always a person with blood on or around them. I also see blood in my dreams a lot. So here's blood in my sub conscience. 
What does blood mean?

Blood is representative of life, sex, and death. Those three things are extremely linked by the subconscious mind in all of humanity. 
The thought of life doesn't cause psychic discomfort. Childbirth is a bloody thing. The absence of pregnancy is a bloody thing. The formation of the heart, the lifesource, is based around blood. And as much as blood causes discomfort for most people (yet we somehow love gore as entertainment, norms?) the thought that blood is shed to bring life - a shiny new opportunity for an individual and the world - makes it more palatable. Christianity teaches that blood was shed for eternal life. 

The thought of death isn't comfortable for most people. It's a top fear, people use so much distancing language when they speak about it that it's unreal. "Passed away." "Moved on." "Life was taken." People will even put humor into how they speak of death, because saying someone died or is dead or was killed, is very real. Death is often a bloody thing. Even if there is no direct bloodshed or murder involved in the death, the heart stops, and the blood stops moving. The DNA of that being has stopped its traverse through the body. 

Sex is the middle ground for life and death. It's also a topic of psychic discomfort for most people moreso than death, but it is also an obsession for most people, and an open obsession by society. You're supposed to keep quiet about it, but it's everywhere. At it's core, sex and it's purpose is the combining of two beings in the life-state and producing a massive race, and death, of many cells in order for one to combine with another to create one living organism, containing the DNA of two living organisms. Sex is how each of is come into being and it is a bloody process in many situations and the end result is very blood-centered. The life and death process is a circle of blood. This causes more discomfort and shame than death because sex is the pure and undeniable combination of both life and death and the subconscious does not want to accept fully that we are mortal. The uneasiness about blood and the uneasiness about sex are tied entirely to the mass denial that we are mortal. 

Dizzy

My Daily.

In the morning, I try to go back to sleep. My body is ready to go, my mind doesn't want to be ready to go and deal with a day of thinking. I need a break from thinking. I fall back asleep and I get up an hour later. 
I don't think about food, that's really more of a night time thing. 

I check my email. Twenty-seven non-spam emails waiting for replies. I put on my headphones and begin responding, still barely awake. Schizotypals with delusions and anxiety are asking for reassurance, schizoids just want to talk to someone who isn't stupid and has no connection to them, psychopaths know I know and want to at last talk about it, suicidal people, other people with Aspergers who have found comfort in knowing someone real is like they are. I type minimal words back, I answer their questions, give examples, and let them reply to me again with a long email. 

Sometimes they ask about me. Some of them are much more interested in me than they are getting help from me. 

I feel intellectually stimulated and nothing emotionally. this is what I do. 

Drawing time. I try not to plan my drawings. I like to draw with both hands to let my subconscious decide much of what comes out through art. I draw weird things, almost always including blood, and if I just want to draw for drawings' sake, I draw Erika. 
Drawing Erika can lead me to suicidology research or to editing; I am currently in the process of adding some Fe (emotion) to my second novel where Erika is also a central character. Writing from Miriam's perspective drives me crazy; she's an ESFP (malfunctioned) with a wonky relationship to her twin and a stalking obsession with Erika. Miriam feels a lot. Writing as Erika is easy because she rarely feels anything, and Lewis feels but he's a guy so it's relatable. 

I realize I'm being a hermit. I need to go out. I text all day really but that's not enough. I need to be in the light, I need to be around conversation. I don't desire these things much but I know that if I don't pull myself from my brain and my research and whatever the hell I'm doing on my planet, I'll keep floating until it's very difficult and very shocking to come back to reality. I put it off by cleaning a little. I go to the store maybe but probably not because I have no money. I go to the gym. I go see family and when I see family, friends also come over.

I'm quiet around my people. I don't feel anxious or shy around them, although I don't make eye contact. I don't start big conversations and I interject little. What I say is often not heard or is informative. Sometimes both. I listen to the conversation around me a little. It's about....nothing, really. If I started talking about what I spent all day researching, and what I'm pondering, and what I'm writing, they would stare, like they always do, say "...okay" and then talk over me. 
I don't really "socialize" as much as I "participate." 

I leave and go by my fathers house. Nothing much to say there. No news? No news. Get some stuff and go home. I decide if I'm going to read, write, draw, or research. I know it's going to be one of those things. There's a chance if I'm in a mood that I'll paint. There's a chance I'll watch the same show over and over. I will shower, eat at some point, and contemplate what combination of sleeping pills to take later. Cartoons maybe but probably not, you need to work on Two Hearts. While you think about what it would be like to be Miriam, you take pictures of your doll that was made to look like Erika, much like Miriam would take pictures of real Erika if any of this were real and it weren't just an elaborate world centered around a trilogy that you spend so much time on.






Dizzy

Thursday, June 27, 2013

Ok


I finished my summer session of college today. I do not know grades but I know I passed. Now I have no obligations until mid August, other than court in July, and I plan on doing things I feel like doing.

Like I always do.

Shout out to the youtube followers doing a reverse analysis. I'm interested to see what y'all have decided I am.

I think I have bronchitis. I haven't had such in several years, back when it was chronic. This often ends with me having several cough-syrup stupors and leaving tissues all over the house, but I really hope not, because I hate being sick. When I moved back to the south, I got sick again.

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Study of Imagination

I am in constant strong use of my imagination. This isn't because I practiced to do so, but I am almost always having a minor out-of-body experience or the sensation that I am a very foreign organism existing in a slow-motion world (this was attributed to "Schizotypal Personality Disorder" by a shrink but I don't know if that was an accurate diagnosis). But for whatever reason, probably Aspergers-related but who knows, I am emotionally much younger than I am. Intellectually I am older. But my emotions are about 11 years old. This has an influence on how conversations happen for me. 
Much of the time, the conversations I have are very one-way. Sometimes I have monologues. But usually it's the other way around, and the other person has to do the heavy lifting in the conversation. I just don't know what to say or if I should say anything in a lot of cases and sometimes there is nothing to say or it's just not my department. See also: extreme issues with small talk.

However, when I write dialogue, I write a lot of dialogue. I have written several novels and they are full of dialogue. My characters have a lot to say to eachother. Even the main female who is socially oblivious can converse better than I do. So what exactly is it that my characters have that I don't?
And once I identify that, could I mimic it and fit in like an NT?

As much as I believe that one of the reasons is because my characters don't interrupt eachother and real people do, there's probably something else to the whole deal. My imagination is my primary outlet and tool for processing things out of my little world. I don't think I am empathizing with people and don't realize it, but I think I've figured out how frustrated I am with not being able to express my own thoughts and/or emotions to other people in my waking life. My writing and drawing aren't something I took up to be cool, I had to do it to get out pent up energy. The amount of writing dialogue I do has much to do with how emotionally wound up I should be in real life. 

That's all. Just rambling before I go edit more dialogue into my 2nd novels draft.

Dizzy.