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 Now online (2)Roger Wilco Monoid ...and 106 guests Last 5 registered Oplandisks nothingstar N_loop yipe foxtrotromeo Browse members... |
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Tell her that. And flowers and cards And love yer mum! tits |
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💐 |
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i'll be honest. it's not hitting me well. that we've pretty much not spoken in months since she was over and sent me into a panic meltdown that extended into some general insanity for about 2-3 days. and i'm supposed to call her. and i'm thinking about this. and she's thinking about this. and i'm thinking about her thinking about it. and already i'm getting mad and talking trash in my head. but i'm supposed to call her. and it's a beautiful day out and i fucking hate it because everyone and their dog's mom is out and i want a cigarette and the general climate of this, i usually don't, but i picked something on my face to death and it looks like shit and i want a cigarette and it's really just, like, i usually don't. and it'll pass. in fact, i don't think i'll do another any time soon, but this already looks like i have some horrid disease. and i want a cigarette. and a bazillion people are out. and i'm supposed to give mom a call. and she's thinking about me thinking about it. that this is already fucking me up, and, actually, probably her along with me. that i should probably just text "wishing you a happy mothers day" or such and resume tactical distance. this is how it is when you're trying to quit cigarettes again, and it's mother's day, and mom is pretty is pretty much as bad as epicmegatrax in all the same ways. that there is utterly no spite in this, it's some bastardly psychological panic room that i have to defuse. bother. happy mother's day |
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then dad's birthday was a few days ago, and it was like... why do i feel i'm getting sewage flowing out of the back of my brain? and then it was like: oh, mom and sis are both in a foul mood because it's dad's birthday and i've not noticed the date today yet. that also he died a few days after his birthday; i've purposefully avoided retaining this exact information. it's a reliable, scheduled yearly collision of dfjgk |
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that, i dunno, i would generally write off some sort of quantum entanglement thing going on, spooky action at a distance. the secret is shared, common information... and timing, which is just another form of shared information. that my mom is simulating me and i'm simulating her and she's simulating me simulating her simulating me stonewalling her on answers and i can already hear how she'll get around that, and dammit get out of my head. and it's just a parlor trick, we're both off in our heads doing this to ourself and it creates the illusion of some level of psychic activity. this is also how synchronicities work. i finally caved and had a cigarette and i feel a bit better. people outside are being vastly louder than i've heard in months, and that's not an emotionally skewed perception -- they are really fucking loud today |
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oh hell. it might finally be time to do a track again. only thing i can have that can out-noise today. few more things to try first |
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i've been doing my best to tune it out but now i'm utterly unable to be not aware that this is some drunk idiots on a PA in the housing complex over yonder and the drummer can't keep time for shit. ugh |
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ok, i'm man enough to admit when i'm wrong. that i finally went outside and it's actually some chick doing live salsa ukelele crap and some bongos at the aforementioned complex, and someone else orthogonal to them doing some sort of rock thing. and the drummer can't keep time for shit. i find salsa music all very boring and same-y. knowing what it actually is doesn't fix anything. it's kind of worse now actually |
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alright, here was my answer: that, if you walk into the kitchen in the morning and everyone's there half asleep, and you say "good morning" you will get a distinctly different level of response from everyone if you... well, the classic, unhelpful phrase is "put some feeling into it." that more like, you actually kind of meditatively prepare yourself before stepping into the kitchen, and you try to be GOOD MORNING! and the caps are not being loud, or forcing air through your lungs for tone, it's that the meditative prep was clearing yourself out a bit so you could very clearly focus on: kind of, i dunno, pushing out a feeling of WOOO YEAH and shit, it feels utterly natural to me to do this, it only doesn't work if i don't actually try, but now that i'm here i'm still not sure that will make any sense and i realized: "wishing you a happy mothers day" -- that's correct. make it a verb, so to speak. send that and spend a moment. that, really, from the above -- i'll live, thanks, but it's not been the greatest day. and i really do hope your day was better, for real now i'm hiding from my phone like a coward. if my foot hadn't been busted up we'd probably be on better terms. if her dog's foot hadn't been busted up we'd probably be on better terms. i guess i'm saying is this will sort itself out eventually. it just did rather sneak up on me: ohhh, right, this whole string of having the family psyche poked with a sharp stick in a regular clip over two or three weeks, yeah |
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i guess that's somewhat how prayer works, actually. the good morning thing i attempted to describe. if you grow up with someone, mom sister etc, there will just always be a part of your brain simulating them, off in a corner, because... hell, you went through all your critical neurological phases with them around, and 20 or 30 years, etc and your brain just has a dedicated section for this forever, now. it may slow down as the serpentine belt of consciousness pulls energy elsewhere, but it never stops entirely. i think the Godel Escher Bach guy got into something like this in his second book, written after his wife died. i've not read it. or GEB. who has that this is my answer, really, for how things happen, like [a family member somehow reads your very specific thot and calls you up on the phone about it with uncanny timing]. that you are all just simulating each other still, and part of this is simulating them simulating you, bounces back and forth and collapses [according to some calculus limit] and this is how i'm arguing with my mom in my head as she's anticipating how i'll react when she presses this or that and how will i respond and how can she hack this barrier but then i stopped thinking and did the thing i described. and then i was thinking about unrelated things. and then eight or ten minutes later it's like, i can hear her think: "...that's it?" and, well, she's not happy, but at least i said hullo and i still stick by my answer as to, like, this is not psychic, this is very faithful simulation of each other. but i still can't tell you how... the timing lined up. or, at least, i feel quite certain it did. i actually could be wrong. but i'm not. halp but at a certain point, it's not worth wondering why the dog turns left or right when it poops on the lawn. you just know the dog poops on the lawn in this area and watch your step. i don't need to figure it out |
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sorry to be a bummer, really. that i guess i feel compelled to quantify and i still stick by my answer as to, like, this is not psychic, this is very faithful simulation of each other. but i still can't tell you how... the timing lined up. or, at least, i feel quite certain it did. i actually could be wrong. but i'm not. halp that if this were happening all day long for random people on the street, well, it'd clearly be a rather broken mechanism. so i felt i need to stress that this does not happen hugely often. it's akin to hearing a fire engine coming down the street: oh, what? that doesn't happen often. what's going on? let's have a look then it's just people simulating each other. and sometimes i've been... not quite a pest or a pain, it's more that people are massively confused why i'm asking them... questions about this. and, sorry, i'm just trying to establish some reliable numbers as to how fucking insane that is. enough people were like "oh alright" that it's... if i feel strongly, it's like 90%, say, that i'm effectively right but there are always some details botched. i was walking into a diner recently, and this guy comes out, and i just think: that guy is clearly on a bunch of drugs, mostly opiates, and he's paranoid as shit right now and it's the same deal: probably been at least a month since i've gotten a similar vibe off of someone. usually about all get is that they think i'm a bit odd. or the crabby persian man who... he'll just hate my guts no matter what i do. i tried smiling, but no dice. so now i just soak it in like sunshine and linger in this spot in a way i can tell pisses him off even further. that he's decided i'm impolite somehow, and i dunno, that persian thing to out-polite each other? i don't do this |
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it's more that people are massively confused why i'm asking them... questions about this. er, sorry, what i meant was -- i've walked right up to people and asked the very direct questions simply to see if these feelings were nuts. and then: if i feel strongly, i've it probably 90% right but details will inevitably be botched |
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EpicMegatrax Seriously shut the fuck up and quit ruining every thread |
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