How I hate staring at this empty box. How I hate to feel as if any creation that is spawned from my mind in these moments is an unreality. Is it not real if we believe that it is real? Or does a consensual reality have to exist among the majority to term it as such?
I might start using terms that I have either overheard and paired my own functional definition with, or terms that I invented myself to describe some kind of phenomenon that currently has no solid description.
I know I exist in a parareality today. Time is not syncing up correctly. In the slower moments, I am alone in a room with myself. I am caged in this prison, running wildly around the barred perimeter, thrashing desperately and angrily. Those are moments where The Voice is not my friend.
The Voice, I forgot to mention in my last post, had stated at one time in the recent past that we are no longer at odds, because the greater enemy was outside of myself. We could no longer be internally warring for control. Personally, I considered it to be another trick and dismissed it. But, as if right on cue, there was The Voice, sharing subconscious insight to help me navigate my troubled waters.
Listen to me. Work with me. I see things that you do not.
It has dawned on me. The Voice is naturally residing in my extraconscious, the bridge between the conscious and the subconscious. It is the only place where parareality and personas can co-exist with the exterior reality. Truly, the exterior reality doesn’t change much. But, the interior reality is a different story entirely. The Voice is the voice of my deepest fears and darkest secrets conceptualized and personified. And, we are at odds for a reason. The Voice announces things coming from my subconscious that I do not want to be true.
However, my states of consciousness are distorted. My conscious mind is having perceptual dysfunctions. These distortions pass through a short-term memory and are interpreted by The Voice and others of the same nature residing in the extraconscious. The short-term memory releases the memory into the subconscious to be stored in the long-term bank and paired with another event or emotion. Unfortunately, that usually generalizes the emotion paired to the events with similar events and vice versa.
When things are pulled back through the extraconscious, The Voice feeds back many judgmental opinions, hardly based in any conceivable fact. Even when there are facts, they are subjective and distorted, creating complex delusions from the word GO. In times past, I was usually able to rely on information coming in correctly, but hardly ever information going out. However, the information coming in does not seem characteristic of everyday stimuli.
Hallucinations and delusions, walking just a millisecond out of sync with the reality that surrounds me.
I am unsure as to whether this is considered a hallucination. Since I was small, I could feel an emotional climate around me. Just as some animals can sense the weather changing, I sense an emotional climate that has shifted, even slightly. I can anticipate emotional storms, mine and others. But, it was always perceived as just a feeling in my solar plexus and my crown, and faint words and phrases from the detuned radio in my head. Yes, there is a lot of noise in there, mostly static. Today, there are words I am grabbing at.
I can physically feel it as an internal sensation, just as if it were an organ.
When I am in motion, I can jar this sensation out of my hypervigilant scope. Or, I can choose to find a way to render myself unconscious and just sleep it off. I like the former, because of several reasons. Firstly, medication that is supposed to put me under is ineffective right now. And second, I am clinging to any kind of reality that I can. Losing any of it is worse than not being able to process it correctly. Correctly? No, there isn’t a right or wrong. Ummm, I’m at a loss for words at the moment.
I need to shake this before it rocks me.
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