Sunday, 4 August 2024 ------------------------ Hello. All is well. God is love. The buzzing sound or tinnitus in my head seems to change frequency and origination depending on my state of mind. I'm not directly in control of it, but it seems to change depending on where I place my attention and which thoughts I have. My best example is when I woke up today, I felt more like my usual self, and the buzzing sound was now coming from the left side of my brain. In my bed, my feet were moving around, and I jokingly thought that the right and left hemispheres were playing or fighting each other. Interestingly, the buzzing sound then switched over to the right side of my brain. It may just be a coincidence, but it resonates with the idea that when I've allowed my reflective thinking to be more deluded in the recent past, a buzzing sound occurs from my right hemisphere. If I stop using my brain intentionally, like watching a movie or just being in mindless thoughts, the buzzing sound will go away. Depending on how loud I've allowed it to become, this transition can take a couple of hours. But there are different kinds of sounds because, in my overall life, I have experienced sounds that come more directly from the ear, which may be the type of tinnitus that comes from hearing damage. However, my hearing is a bit whacky. It's sensitive, but paradoxically, I have trouble hearing things sometimes, yet other times, I pick up things others don't hear. A noteworthy occasion, many years ago, was at a mall of sorts, I could hear an annoying static noise, but no one else could hear it, except perhaps when I saw a small child walking by with his hands covering his ears as if he also could hear it. Oddly, I think I've become better at hearing what people say in the past few weeks. My current theory is that my left hemisphere has overwhelmingly controlled my perception, inhibiting my right hemisphere. I think I heard somewhere that the corpus callosum is not a connector but more of an inhibitor. I will have to look into that sometime. I don't want to look up too much at the moment because it affects the state of mind I want to cultivate. If I turn completely mad, now you know why, haha. Honestly, it feels more like I'm the one escaping the madhouse, heh. Luckily, I have money and little commitments, so I can stay unnoticed. Unfortunately, I think you must have absolute financial security to fully observe your mind with intention. Most wealthy people don't even have this because of commitments and their assets requiring maintenance, keeping them on edge. Personally, I became very frustrated that I now had to worry about how to keep the money I've made due to having no security in knowing what central banks, governments, companies, funds and other institutions or powerful groupings may do. Moving on to another subject, you might've noticed that I haven't written much about my family. There are several reasons for this, but one simple reason is that I didn't have the competence to tackle it clearly. I also want to make it very clear that you are reading from my subjective perspective. It would not be in good faith to take my words as the truth, nor do I make any claims of that. Like everyone else, I am not god, merely an image of god. I don't like the word forgiveness because for the act of forgiving to make sense you must be attached to a particular imagination. I'm referring to how the word is commonly used, as you may change its meaning to fit another imagination. I've done that myself with the word love because it means something more specific to me than what it's commonly associated with. I'll specify what I exactly mean with love later in this writing. Anyway, for me, it's not about forgiveness but trying to see things as clearly as possible, which fundamentally has limits due to the finite power or energy at your disposal. My connection to my closest family members (my father, my mother, and my older brother) is a strong bond. This means that as an agent, as an image of god, I lose agency and become driven by this manifested imagination. This is difficult to explain correctly because I'm implicitly talking about a specific type of connection in this instance. To truly understand what I'm talking about here, one must be in a place of certain clarity or detachment. Otherwise, one will intuitively fill in the context gaps without more reflective consideration. I am also not making any claims of whether this imagination is inherently good or bad in absoluteness. The concept of good and bad is an imagination itself and requires a frame of imagination to exist. Let's ground ourselves a bit. My life wasn't going well, but it was okay because I had security in my home and family. But that sense of security started breaking down when I was ~13 years old. My father had been working on a big project for many years. He became deeply attached to it, pouring all his life energy into it. It became his life project. It became him. But, as life is, we have little control over its unfolding, and ultimately, the project would come to a halt due to outside forces he had little influence over. In effect, all his energy attached to this project would turn positive to negative. He was now in a massive deficit for his manifested imagination to make sense. What would break him further is that he discovered that no one cared about him like he thought they did. It was not him on a personal level to which they had attached energy. It was his project. Of course, I can only speculate. I vividly remember walking into my parent's bedroom one day. My father's body was there but empty of any spirit, unresponsive to my presence or words. I think he then became desperate for energy but could not handle that properly due to the circumstances and the sheer force of his manifested imagination pulling him, making him not face the underlying problem or the manifested imagination that was not serving him. Ultimately, over the years, I felt he took my energy for granted, and I became a crutch for him, and I only had so much to spare. It became more apparent to me, as I gained more independence. When he shared his new projects with me, he sought validation and reassurance, not genuine feedback. He crossed some lines I could not tolerate, and I had almost no energy left, so I became increasingly strict with having no contact. Going back to the beginning when his project came to a halt. I did not really care about his project. My dad was my dad. That's why I loved him. But I believe my brother had, just like his father, invested energy into the project, attaching himself to the idea of his dad as a great builder of sorts. I think this impacted him greatly, making him chase some notion of success himself. I had a lot of attachment to my brother, so I was very open to his ideas, making me chase success now, but I wasn't sure why, haha, except that it made sense since I wasn't generally happy at the time. In the end, it turned out well for me. But I increasingly became detached from my brother. Same story again. I loved my brother because he was my brother, but he slowly became someone I no longer knew, and he, just like his father, took my kindness for granted. It was harder for me to distance myself from him because I didn't know how he was doing or what genuine support system he had because he was so closed off. Luckily, I think he improved and found someone who seemed to be taking him in a healthy direction. That made it easier for me to tell him not to call me anymore, as I knew he wasn't alone. The recent times he has visited me, it seems he has improved, diversifying his energy investment. My mother has genuinely been there for me. I probably would have ended up very differently if it wasn't for my mother keeping me sane throughout my childhood. But she can't save me from the world alone, especially with everything else in her life. She has been too generous with her energy most of her life, but it seems she has become better at setting boundaries recently. As I've written before, I've been in a very dark place the past few years, hiding it as best I could from my family. During these years, as I weakened, I sensed she had a lot of things to deal with. However much she tried to hide it, cracks would reveal to me her suffering. I know she genuinely wanted to be there for me, telling me she was strong enough, but it didn't make sense. I was in a very dark place. I didn't want to drag her down with me, so I tried as best as possible to distance myself from her, making her understand why and genuinely deal with my manifested imagination, heading straight into the void. I've already covered a lot today, so I'll wait to talk about my ideas of being an image of god and what the word love means to me. I also want to talk about how going into your manifested imagination is not something to take lightly, especially with no external support system. It requires surgical precision, and one wrong cut can become fatal. I also want to clarify that one must be realistic and pragmatic. You must work with reality. Use your environment to your advantage. Don't feel bad for comforting yourself, but try to do so competently, or you'll be in an endless chase, slowly wearing you down. That's at least my experience of it. I could be crazy, so take everything I say with a grain of salt. Also, I don't fully understand it, and this is highly simplified. It's much more nuanced.