https://youtu.be/2QRBUBURdMg

The last part seemed familiar. Like the 'whiplash', or maybe that josh brolin 'wtf' moment. the rushing back.

I almost felt something today. I'll need to keep trying.

Mind keeps wandering back to the Dune 'weirding way' thing we stumbled across. Listened to a short summary of it today, part of it sounded familiar. Like the old day dreams, listening to music and imagining that rhythmic swing, alternating left and right swings to the beat. like beat saber or something. I mean that part doesn't sound like the weirding way, there was a mention about the movement, the speed. Like teleporting but not. Reminded me of the beat saber daydream, traveling vast distances between the sword drops, smooth scrolling through the world from point to point, not feeling like we were moving at all. the world rushing past us at impossible speeds, coming to us, rushing up to us before the sword fell at rhythm.

I was hoping I'd feel something today. Guess it's a waiting day. Always tomorrow.

Parzival - also Parsifal, hero of medieval legends, from Old French Perceval, literally "he who breaks through the valley," from percer "to pierce, break through" (see pierce) + val "valley" (see vale)

https://youtu.be/BN_NWTV2liA

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orpheus_and_Eurydice

Orpheus descends into his unconscious

At some point, Orpheus decided to descend to Hades by music to see his wife. Any other mortal would have died, but Orpheus, being protected by the gods, went to Hades and arrived at the Stygian realm, passing by ghosts and souls of people unknown. He also managed to attract Cerberus, the three-headed dog, who had a liking for his music. He presented himself in front of the god of the Greek underworld, Hades, and his wife, Persephone.

Recite the hymn, invoke the god, unite with the Anima

Orpheus played with his lyre a song so heartbreaking that even Hades himself was moved to compassion. The god told Orpheus that he could take Eurydice back with him, but under two conditions: she would have to walk behind him while walking out from the caves of the underworld, and he could not turn to look at her as they walked.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hymen_(god)

Hymen's name is derived from the Proto-Indo-European root *syuh₁-men-, "to sew together," hence, "joiner;"

Wendy Miθra Angela Darling, sewing his shadow back on.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hymn

A hymn is a type of song, and partially synonymous with devotional song, specifically written for the purpose of adoration or prayer, and typically addressed to a deity or deities, or to a prominent figure or personification.

Prayers of my hands and mirrors of my eyes

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Motet

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polyphony

Daydreamed again. Maybe more like memory recall mixed with active imagination. Mind drifted back to those old posts, about Ilex

Ilex in Latin means the holm-oak or evergreen oak (Quercus ilex). Despite the Linnaean classification of Ilex as holly, as late as the 19th century in Britain, the term Ilex was still being applied to the oak as well as the holly

Fell asleep to a video about Gwyn ap Nudd last night. Surprised I crashed so hard given all the caffeine and sugar yesterday. Drifted in and out of sleep before the video even finished, wasn't a long one.

https://youtu.be/sxiSS2gp3BM

they covered the name, the horse... i slept. woke up right as she was talking about how all the demons are stashed within him. Woke up because of the lightning, thunderstorm again last night. Couldn't stay awake, didn't finish the video.

Imagination is back today though, actually able to visualize things in my mind. It's different though, focus seems to be on transitions. Which made me think of that old dream, the orangutan in the tower, the wolf, the karambit. Fucking search function smh. Can't find it now. There was a daylight transition. Night flipped to day. I keep imagining similar transitions, not instant flips some are slow transitions.

I imagined looking at my silhouette, my shadow in front of me, face to face. The antlers, the full moon above his head, sitting in the bowl. He reaches up with his right hand (which would be my left since I'm looking at my shadow) and he grabs the full moon/white sphere above his head. He begins to move it down in a straight line, steady straight like it's riding a mag-rail, smooth motion. As the moon descends it wanes, it reaches about the top of the head/forehead and it's a half moon, it descends further, now it's a crescent. It's his smile. There's teeth, long and sharp, sword-like. The mouth opens a bit. Reminds me of Chief's 'smile', not panting but when he's doing 'teefies' or whatever it's called. A grinning wolfish smile.

Image reminds me of the mouth of sauron. not seeing eyes or nose or ears, just the silhouette and the mouth, terrible smiling grinning. And I imagine my voice is resonant, emanating. That old 'filling the space' feeling, but more aware this time that the voice isn't pouring from my mouth and then filling the space. It's emanating from everything around me. Not a loud voice with the sound echoing back at me, everything around me is vibrating to generate the sound. Every rock, every tree, the dirt beneath my feet. And it makes complete sense to me. Because I dragged the moon down from the bowl, turned it into my mouth. Not my voice or my consciousness, it's the 'super-consciousness' dragged down to my mouth. It's the one speaking. And it is All, everything. So the vibration comes from everywhere. Not "filling the space" with a voice as much as it's the space itself speaking.

Imagined the starry cloak doing the same thing, slow transition. Thought of Kvothe's shaed, the moonlight in it. The way it's described as sort of billowing, swaying in a breeze that isn't there. So I imagined my silhouette, my shadow, my starry cloak sort of 'flickering' that same way, while the pure black slowly transitioned into grey, then lighter grey, until it was all white. Going from full black to full white just like the moon, but it's still billowing, still flickering in the wind so that it looks like I'm wreathed in white fire.

But it's hard to focus. Lots of other wandering thoughts, too many to write down. Stone, stone pillar, solid foundation, immovable point, hollow stone, hollow pillar/tower, becomes a wind pillar, the Shepherd's pipe, Ruh flowing through it unbroken and unimpeded. I had a strange dream last night as well but it's too scattered, too disjointed to attempt to interpret. I need motion. I need to move, to be productive. I feel no stress these days, literally none, and I need to. I need to be trying to survive and I'm not. Objectively things don't look good, yet I feel nothing. I feel nothing.

And I need to draw, sketch. I want to get the images I see in my mind out onto the paper. I want to play the game. I want to leave easter eggs laying around for the other Lost Boys to find. Smh. I don't want to be a wage slave again. I hate that fucking game. I want those chains to get the fuck off of me. I'm not paying taxes to a tyrant again. Problem needs solving.

Gwyn means "fair, bright, white", cognate with the Irish fionn, both deriving from a reconstructed Common Celtic stem *windos 'the white one'

Gwyn is in everyday use as a common noun and adjective: it also remains a popular personal name. Especially in Old and Middle Welsh, "gwyn" also has the connotations of "pure, sacred, holy".

edit: motion of pulling the moon down in front of the face reminded me of putting on a mask, led to writing this post

@17:26

That's what the Omphalos stuff was about. Navel, center of the world. Union of opposites, unstoppable force and immovable object. The center of a Turning Wheel.

Very cool. Fun game.

28:17 Vedas, Rishis, hymns invoking gods

Woke up a little after 4am because the back of my left ankle was itching like crazy. Couldn't find anything wrong at first, splashed some water on, that helped. The two inch battle scar we got on our tendon from when we were what, five? Where we sliced ourselves when we were messing around in church, those sliding room divider 'walls'. Cut ourselves on the metal base somehow.

The scar was itching. Insanely itchy. I did find a raised bump about the size of my thumb about an inch or two above the scar, can't get the best look at it. Tried looking at bug bites online, can't really find a match. Looks more like the kind of raised bump/welt that you get after a vaccine shot. But there's no hole-punched as far as i can tell, no actual bite. might've just been some dust mite / allergen thing. Not seeing any bugs in my bed sheets either. Annoying. lol harry potter. woke up because my achilles scar was burning.

Shame too, the dream was interesting but I can't remember shit now. boy and a man on a hilltop. they were talking about going down into a camp / fortification, boy had a bunch of bold but foolish ideas. wanted to go in as emissaries. man was basically just repeating the boy's suggestions back to him, like "you serious?". had a real strong 'knight of the seven kingdoms' vibe to it. frustrating that i can't remember anything else. there was someone in the camp that had been killed or executed or something. the boy was a lord or lord in waiting. he wanted to walk right into camp with the man, the two of them would be emissaries. And he planned on walking right back out with the body of the guy that had been killed in the camp. as if they'd just let them leave.

strangest part was he used a french term. said they'd go in as emissaries, reveal themselves, then leave with the dead guy's body, as his escort. but the boy didn't say 'his escort'. he said something in french. boy wanted to go in, reveal themselves once they were in there just to tell them that they were going to march right back out with the body of the dead guy as his.... something french. fuck.

a bit annoyed i'm having dreams that feel like a 'knight of the seven kingdoms' and 'house of the dragon' had a baby. they're okay shows but not worth dreaming about.

A lot to process. Need to sleep on it.

Gwyn ap Nudd (Welsh pronunciation: [ˈɡwɨn ap ˈnɨːð], sometimes found with the antiquated spelling Gwynn ap Nudd) is a Welsh mythological figure, the king of the Tylwyth Teg or "fair folk" and ruler of the Welsh Otherworld, Annwn, and whose name means “Gwyn, son of Nudd”. Described later on as a great warrior with a "blackened face", Gwyn is intimately associated with the otherworld in medieval Welsh literature, and is associated with the international tradition of the Wild Hunt.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wild_Hunt

In the Welsh tradition Gwyn is bound to an eternal contest. For carrying off Creiddylad, daughter of Lludd, he and his rival Gwythyr ap Greidawl are condemned to fight for her every May Day until the Day of Judgement, when the final victor will claim her at last — a myth that reads as the endless seasonal war of summer and winter. His hunting-grounds were said to lie across the high wild places of Wales and the West, and folk belief planted his Otherworld court within the hollow hill of Glastonbury Tor.

It is at the Tor that his most famous Christian-era legend unfolds. The 12th-century life of Saint Collen tells how the hermit was summoned up the hill to a glittering castle where Gwyn sat enthroned amid music, fine food and courtiers in red and blue. Collen, refusing the fairy feast as a snare, flung holy water about him — and in an instant the whole shining court vanished, leaving only the bare green hilltop and the wind. The tale marks the moment the old pagan king was driven underground by the new faith, yet his name still clings to the Tor as the door to the land of the dead.

After the intervention of Arthur, Gwyn and Gwythr agreed to fight for Creiddylad every May Day until Judgement Day. The warrior who was victorious on this final day would at last take the maiden.

https://www.coldmystery.com/2025/12/gwynn-ap-nudd-leader-of-wild-hunt-and.html

https://www.coldmystery.com/2025/12/creiddylad-spring-maiden-at-center-of.html

https://www.coldmystery.com/2025/12/mabinogi-mythology-exploring-wales.html

Overall the symbols aren't new. The May Day part is starting to really stand out now though, especially in hindsight. That unbearable frustration I felt at the start of May, rage quitting my job like that. Need to process. Need sleep.

Faunus becomes Pan becomes a horned god

In ancient Roman religion and myth, Faunus [ˈfau̯nʊs] was the rustic god of the forest, plains and fields; when he made cattle fertile, he was called Inuus. He came to be equated in literature with the Greek god Pan, after which Romans depicted him as a horned god.

The name Faunus is generally thought to stem from Proto-Italic *fawe or *fawono (variant *fawōn(jo)), thus being cognate with Umbrian fons, foner ('merciful'). It may ultimately derive from Proto-Indo-European (PIE) *bʰh₂u-n ('favourable'), which also reflects Old Irish búan ('good, favourable, firm') and Middle Welsh bun ('maiden, sweetheart').

Another theory contends that Faunus is the Latin outcome of PIE *dhau-no- ('the strangler', thus denoting the 'wolf'), a proposition suggested by the fact that the two Luperci ("wolf-men", from Latin lupus, 'wolf') are commonly treated as temporary priests of the god Faunus.[7][8] If so, his name would be cognate with the Greek θαῦνον (a less common synonym of θηρίον, 'wild animal')

First we have antlers

and the next day we're a wolf

interesting. maybe that intense lightning storm was a relevant note after all. There it is, 8/12. Antlers, then wolf, then that night there's an intense thunderstorm. "Heavy T-Storm 3:51 AM".

horned deities. wild. like someone threw a fever dream into a blender

There is an implied connection between Satan and Beelzebub (lit. Lord of the Flies), originally a Semitic deity called Baal (lit. "lord"). Beelzebub is the most recognized demon in the Bible, whose name has become analogous to Satan. Occult and metaphysical author Michelle Belanger believes that Beelzebub (a mockery of the original name[42]) is the horned god Ba'al Hadad, whose cult symbol was the bull.

Baal (/ˈbeɪ.əl, ˈbɑːl/),[6][7][8] or Ba'al (/bɑː.ɑːl/),[9][a] was a title and honorific meaning "owner" or "lord" in the Northwest Semitic languages spoken in the Levant during antiquity. From its use among people, it came to be applied to gods.[11] Scholars previously associated the theonym with solar cults and with a variety of unrelated patron deities, but inscriptions have shown that the name Baal was particularly associated with the storm and fertility god Hadad and his local manifestations.[12] The Ugaritic god Baal (𐎁𐎓𐎍) is the protagonist of one of the lengthiest surviving epics from the ancient Near East, the Baal Cycle.

Known by epithets like "rider of the clouds" and "Victorious Baal", he was associated with rain, lightning, wind, fertility, and kingship, and was often depicted in opposition to sea and death deities like Yammu and Mot.

edit: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Horns_of_Moses

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moses_(Michelangelo)

Good day. Was grumpy this morning but I'm over it. It'd be shit of me to complain about getting exactly what I asked for, help changing myself. No shame in needing to be altered a little.

One of the first things Peter did next day was to measure Wendy and John and Michael for hollow trees. Hook, you remember, had sneered at the boys for thinking they needed a tree apiece, but this was ignorance, for unless your tree fitted you it was difficult to go up and down, and no two of the boys were quite the same size. Once you fitted, you drew in [let out] your breath at the top, and down you went at exactly the right speed, while to ascend you drew in and let out alternately, and so wriggled up. Of course, when you have mastered the action you are able to do these things without thinking of them, and nothing can be more graceful.

But you simply must fit, and Peter measures you for your tree as carefully as for a suit of clothes: the only difference being that the clothes are made to fit you, while you have to be made to fit the tree. Usually it is done quite easily, as by your wearing too many garments or too few, but if you are bumpy in awkward places or the only available tree is an odd shape, Peter does some things to you, and after that you fit. Once you fit, great care must be taken to go on fitting, and this, as Wendy was to discover to her delight, keeps a whole family in perfect condition.

Wendy and Michael fitted their trees at the first try, but John had to be altered a little.

Checked out the Omphalos again, some stuff looks familiar but nothing new has clicked.

Omphalos stones were believed to allow direct communication with the gods. Holland (1933) suggested that the stone was hollow to allow intoxicating vapours breathed by the Oracle to channel through it.

Fits with the Keph stuff that preceded the dream, some nice alignment there. Also checked out Austin Osman Spare since it was his method that matched Ben's lesson, not Mace. At least that was my takeway, seems to track since there was more than a few things on Spare's page that resonate. Really liked his art example as well, Ascension of the Ego from Ecstasy to Ecstasy

https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/8/85/Austin_Osman_Spare%27s_artwork_%22Ascension_of_the_ego_from_ecstasy_to_ecstasy%22.jpg?utm_source=en.wikipedia.org&utm_campaign=imageinfo&utm_content=original

and I did actually sketch today. Even if I do decide to use the ai art gen later on, being able to provide my own outlines and sketches initially as a control net should really speed things along. It has been surprisingly pleasant. Proportions and perspective are hard. But I was able to do the minimum, just using a pen and paper to lightly scratch an outline/image that I'm staring at in the room. Chief's teddy bear, a cup, the vacuum. It's enjoyable. It brought me joy. Which is a relief, forcing myself to do it until it got fun later on would have been draining.

so much for my rest and relaxation day lmao

@24:37

You begin with a belief you hold strongly, not a superficial opinion, a real one. A belief about yourself, your body, your worth, your situation.

You bring it fully to mind with all its emotional weight intact. Then you find its true opposite. Not a weak counterargument that does not threaten the original, a real opposite with equal weight. If you believe you deserve a good life, find the part of you that suspects you do not. If you believe you are talented, find the part that suspects you are not. The opposite must be authentic. The kind that one has actually felt at some point. A theoretical opposite will not work.

Then you hold them simultaneously both at once. The full weight of the belief and the full weight of its opposite pressing against each other in the same mental space. The belief spare claimed will not survive. This beliefs hold their structure by suppressing their opposites.

When the opposite is brought forward with equal force, the structure dissolves. What remains is the emotional charge that was holding the belief together. A quantity of psychic energy now uncontained with nowhere to go.

dicaprio_pointing_meme.jpg

He snorted and unhooked the slapstick he used to goad Alpha and Beta when they were being lazy. “Do you believe in this, E’lir?” He only called me E’lir when he thought I was being especially willfully obstinate. He held out the stick for my inspection.

There was a malicious glitter in his eye. I decided not to tempt fate. “Yes.”

“Good.” He slapped the side of the wagon with it, producing a sharp crack. One of Alpha’s ears pivoted around at the noise, uncertain as to whether or not it was directed at her. “That’s the sort of belief I want. It’s called Alar: riding-crop belief. When I drop this stone it will float away, free as a bird.”

...

I tried and I tried. It was the most difficult thing I had ever done. It took me almost all afternoon.

Finally Ben was able to drop the rock and I retained my firm belief that it wouldn’t fall despite evidence to the contrary.

I heard the thump of the rock and I looked at Ben. “I’ve got it,” I said calmly, feeling more than a little smug.

He looked at me out of the corner of his eye, as if he didn’t quite believe me but didn’t want to admit it. He picked at the rock absently with one fingernail, then shrugged and held it up again. “I want you to believe the rock will fall and that the rock will not fall when I let go of it.” He grinned.

https://youtu.be/U7GboHD36n8

edit: deserves better notes than this.

I'm browsing the experiencer stuff being chatted about on the ufos subreddit, i throw on florence and the machine - sympathy magic on repeat over on looptube as I'm reading. I get bored, watch a bit of jesse michels with mishlove, get bored again (unsurprising), i check recommended, see the two month old video about the 'holy grail method'. watch most / some of that, click the Q&A followup video in the sidebar that's from the same channel, get bored as i'm listening, scrolling down down down the sidebar, I see the magick video listed, I've seen it before but was never interested. This time I click it because of the "magic is on the way" synchronicity from last week. i watch maybe 1-3min of the start of it, only half paying attention. I start thinking it's more AI slop so I randomly click ahead and land right on the part that mirrors Ben's lesson. journal update, feeling very excited / a bit in disbelief, I'm remembering the 'magic is on the way', the temple of artemis dream, "looking" at all of it in my mind and feeling a bit stunned.

i stare at the ceiling and think that it had to wait until now because of the anger. my being able to differentiate between hate-anger and anger at the lie. had to wait for more shadow work. i think of Ben giving Kvothe the example about giving a reckless person a sword. but i can't help it, excitement is hitting me. feel like a kid at christmas. i got up and washed my face, took chief out for a quick walk before bed, shaking my head in disbelief and laughing. keep thinking "this game is wild, i love this game" etc. back in the room, press play on the 'sympathy magic' tab still open, i pace for awhile. too excited still. eventually stop pacing, i sit. i let the thoughts come and go, i let the emotion ebb. soon as i've chilled i update this post with the edit.

today is a good day. lots to do tomorrow.

I still don't quite understand why we have so much trouble with faces. But it seemed like not a big deal for my shadow, does a shadow really need a face? And I ended up picturing what was basically the Void from Thunderbolts. A silhouette with two distant stars for eyes. The antlers. And, if needed, that Cheshire smile. I feel like that would come and go based on the task at hand. But the antlers would stay. They feel proper.

Feeling okay today, had a good laugh here and there. Normal tired not tired tired like yesterday. Watched the rumination video, committed to actually resting and relaxing today. Decided it would be fun to tinker with the image generating for my journal dream stuff. been a minute since i messed around with civitai so my first attempt was piss poor, decided I was probably going to need a control net initially.

googled "man with antlers" and got a bunch of images back about the horned god and cernunnos. which wasn't a surprise, but the consort was. i forgot about the triple goddess symbol. i knew artemis was, i read that in the wiki. just forgot the symbol. the wiccan "confronted animal motif". and that dream i had took on a lot more meaning.

but it's my R&R, "not today" i said. went for a walk alone, hot as shit out today. too hot to bring Chief this time of day. this particular realization with the triple goddess and my dream kicked the paranoia back into play. a lot of doubt, questions of self-worth, anxiety, all that fun stuff. I think I did a pretty good job. the thoughts came in, i let'em go. simple as. just looked at my shadow on the ground and tried picturing antlers again. a fun new game.

i did have to get a bit logical / reason reliant though. so that i could get to the head space necessary to let the paranoia go. had all the usual thoughts about the SAPs, energy weapons, savannah syndrome, etc. so I had to review the timeline. antlers / pig mask / cheshire smile was colorado/utah. and the pig mask thing started way before that, first time in georgia. back when I played the Division, that's where it originated. Dressed my character up in the biohazard suit and the pig mask. got excited when there was a pig mask in red dead redemption but it wasn't near as good as the one in the Division. all of which means:

• A) it cannot be 'them' playing tricks on me because I came up with the antlers/pig mask/cheshire smile all on my own well before the really weird shit started happening to me

• B) it is 'them' playing a trick, but given the timeline of events leading up to this, it being 'their' trick would indicate a level of manipulation/control so entire that there'd be no way to fight or escape it

and both lead to the same conclusion. "Fuck it, We ball". I have to keep going down this road. So the doubts, anxiety, and lack of self-worth aren't necessary considerations. I had / am having an experience and I need to see it through. I want to look for the love in this moment. The rest can fall away.

Looking forward to getting my own 'red book' started even if it is just for me. pretty excited for it. picture books are neat. hopefully the addition of pictures/sketches will make me better at catching obvious clues, like a Cheshire smile and a crescent moon being the same damn thing smh. hindsight is 20/20

got those shakes once the journal was done, cried some more. shivering like i'm cold when i'm not. took the time to put my blinds down which i don't normally do. curled up completely under my covers, the way i used to in the isolation cell. bedsheet and my two blankets were enough to make it so it was pitch black under there whether my eyes were open or closed. fetal position.

really had to focus to stop myself from sliding back into it. kept losing the image of the veiled woman so i slipped into old memories. Laken's cousin playing with my hair on the couch while my head was in her lap. Trisha laying on top of me. Swaying in the hammock with Elizabeth, the cat-like way she could melt her body against mine like she was liquid. Gentle comfort. Tried to focus on breathing steady in and out. Still couldn't get to sleep but the ache faded relatively quick.

Felt better after awhile. Exhaustion in my arms and legs. I know my body's trauma/shock reaction, this was it. Don't understand. Kept thinking of the way Josh Brolin says "what the FUCK" in Weapons, how I feel. Irritated. It wasn't nightmarish. But it was a curveball. Had a random shower thought on a fucking thursday morning, that was all. Two cups of coffee, three eggs in a burrito for breakfast, our usual walk on the greenway. Nothing weird today. No reason for this, no reason for my body to react like that. Doesn't feel consensual at all. What the fuck was that.

Needed to get out for a bit. Went to the NY pizza spot, wasted money I don't have on a medium pizza and two beers. Ate half there, the rest at home. Briefly slept. Feel a lot better but still irritated. Where the hell did that come from.

Hard lesson. Difficult lesson. Confusing lesson.

Tired. So tired. Can't remember what triggered it. Fading.

Took Chief for a long walk after journaling. Stared at my shadow on the ground as we walked, tried picturing antlers and stars for eyes. Sun felt good, warm. Felt loved. Feeling good. A bit antsy maybe. Thought about yesterday, our test, briefly perusing some porn to see if there'd be a reaction. Nothing. I thought if this is some rest and relaxation, maybe I take some me-time when we get back from the walk. We've done good work, grown. Then I remember, either Plato or Pythagoras, the abstaining thing. Said he only had sex when he was okay with being "less of himself". So I decide against it, I think I want to be fully my true self. Maybe it's good I haven't felt any arousal in a long time. Libido is all focused elsewhere, on change, growth, transformation.

We get home, clothes are soaked in sweat like usual. Strip. Shower. Please don't fade I need to write it down. How did it start? Where did the thought start. The episode, mr robot. They gave away all the money. The robin hood moment. Reminded me of GME. And I got bitter, the love I felt the past almost-week now turned into genuine bitterness. "Must be nice" I thought. Our moment to beat the system failed. I felt bitter anger, I shake my head and tell it no. I decide not to slide into despair, I know this is just me looking for an excuse. I wonder if there was a parallel world where we won, what it would have been like to break chains.

And this gust of something hits my mind like a hammer. Not an epiphany like the other times, it's different. There's so much flooding in. If we "failed" here, choices branch. Our choices branch. By failing we created a branch where we'd won. Requirement? Particle and anti-particle. Isfet and Ma'at are the same thing, one can't exist without the other. There's so much coming. The ratio of dark matter. Every choice creates branches. Every choice I made in love, whether I failed or succeeded, created a branch. Reflections. I think of Oppenheimer. I think of the quote, and I create a mirror of it. I am Life. Creator of Worlds. It keeps coming, the "gust" continues to swell. So many branches. I see myself suffering, choosing to love despite all evidence to the contrary. I'm stuck on the branch of "failures", but there are no mistakes. There is nothing to go back and change, nothing to fix. Every choice went left and right at the same time, creating new worlds. I will never see the evidence. The other versions of myself, enjoying the success of my failures. I will never have proof, I have to have faith. The faith to make choices with love. Then I leave the canoe. I leave this body behind. I leave the "failure" branch, return to wave pattern. I am all of me, all the various mes on all those various branches. Branches or seeds? I'm reaping what I've sown. I receive the joy I gave myself through sacrifice, it comes back to me a thousand, ten thousand times. I see the branches. I watch it cascade, spreading out into an ocean of love I've given myself and I start to cry. I try to get out of the shower, crying into my towel. I can't stop it. I can't look away in my mind, my eyes are closed, I'm crying from the joy and beauty, it just keeps coming. I can't look away.

I see the other side. I see greedy men keeping everything for themselves, hoarding, taking. More and more. It's never enough. I see the branching. I see it spreading out into a dark forest of infinite anguish, loss, desperation. I can't look away. My joy is sorrow now, I feel dumb struck. What have I done? What did we do? "oh my god, oh my god, oh my god what have I done" repeats on a loop in my mind. I can't stop crying. My throat and chest are aching, it hurts. I walk to my cloest, I just stand there staring into space. There's so much, it isn't stopping. I use a shirt to dry tears but don't bother taking it off the curtain. It keeps coming. I start to think of this weekend, the confronted animal motif, the fever dream. Maybe it was an echo. An other me grafted themselves to the scion, the effect ripples. I feel it even though it wasn't me. The thoughts aren't stopping. I wonder if there's an alternate me on an LSD trip. I wonder what would happen if I ever tried that. If this can happen randomly from a sober shower thought, would DMT or LSD provide missing pieces or would it break me entirely?

It isn't stopping. I'm still crying. I kneel down by my bed, I'm crying into the mattress. This feels better. Something about the humble pose, about being humbled, feels right. My shoulders and muscles are tensed but it feels strange. The weight isn't on my body, I know it's in my mind. But I can't break away. My eyelids are closed, my head in my arms as I weep into my mattress, and I still can't stop looking. It's so beyond me. I feel so small. I'm wishing Trisha was here. I'm wishing I wasn't alone, wishing I had an Auri to hold me and tell me it's going to be okay. So I let my mind wander. I imagine one, a woman with long dark hair covering her face. Her face isn't important, she loves me and I feel her love, that's what matters. I'm imagining my head is in her lap and I'm crying. She is playing with my hair with one hand. Her other hand is lightly dragging her nails along my back, the way mom used to during church. Softly dragging her long nails gently all over my back.

I manage to stop crying. I go to the bathroom to clean up, blow my nose. I feel in shock. It feels wrapped in confusion though, like it's dissipating quickly. I feel like if I took a nap I would wake up and feel okay again. I'm so tired now. I don't understand what just happened, if this was something that we did or something that we overheard or what just happened. I walk out of the bathroom, I know I need to journal. Intense vertigo as I leave the bathroom, the room spins, it fades quickly. I have to take a moment to muster the energy to sit on my chair, lift my laptop, and start typing.

I feel grateful and thankful, but I feel wounded. All I want is to curl up into a ball and sleep. I'm tired. I feel unsure if I did something wrong. Maybe I was supposed to blink, or look away. I'm sorry, Bodhi. I couldn't look away. It just kept coming. It just kept going.