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Disreality

Started by Jenne, April 26, 2007, 07:56:13 PM

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Jenne

NOT unreality...not the lack of reality...but apart from reality, away from reality.

It's that point when, to all intents and purposes, there is a reversal of reality, you are taken from it, and placed instead in disreality.  Where the surreal is the real.  Where life is death, death is life.  The not is, and the is never really has been.

And the disbelief in the disreality causes a lack of cognizance, a dissonance, with the center of being.  So that there is an imbalance of proportion, and gaining back the fulcrum seems the impossiblest of tasks.

When you reach disreality, you wonder why it has to be, even while you know the very direct because it came into being. But you still question the necessitation of consequences, the necessitation of the action, the weight and counterweight to the scales.  Off-center suits when you are in surreality or impracticality.

But the unrecognizable disreality brings pain, absence of control, horrifically dark feelings that swell and never subside.  Disreality is the conjunction of all forces opposite that bring it all into lopsided focus, when you say goodbye to what was irrevocably known, and you enter the world eternal of the inconceivably unknown.

Cramulus

#1
Is it like this?

My OBNOXIOUS JERK CABAL was born, in part, when a bunch of my friends spent long periods of time being very very sarcastic assholes to each other. After months of being perpetually sarcastic, we actually experienced a cognitive flip. It was a prime example of language sculpting reality. My cabal-mate Squire Candyass called it the "terrible/awesome" phase.

"So I failed my Junior Seminar class."
"That's awesome!"
".... yeah, it is awesome! How'd you do on your chem final?"
"I aced it."
"Oh, that sucks. You want a beer?"

We'd get really excited about injuries and illnesses, and really depressed about good weather. It was a supremely weird period because somebody would leap out from behind a bush and slash you with a kitchen knife and you'd thank them. Someone got sick and threw up all over the living room and you'd high five them as you hauled out the mop. I remember scrubbing a floor with a grin, saying "I fucking love cleaning up puke!" and sort of meant it. That kind of shit was happening nonstop.

After months of this, we had to make a collective reality check. We found ourselves unable to communicate with others because our sense of humor was so far out of whack. That's just the tip of the ice berg, but suffice to say that in hindsight, I can only describe that period as disreality.

Copious use of hallucinogens, of course, made the period that much more bizarre and personally significant.


'zat what you mean?

Jenne

Yes, it's Alice in Wonderland meets Alice in Chains.

P3nT4gR4m

Operation mindfuck. When I first encountered the phrase it was something you did to yourself. On purpose you'd alter your whole approach to life, your belief structure, your mental and emotional reactions to things, derail your train of thought at every available opportunity. Kind like roleplaying but with much greater intent and intensity.

Objective is to allow you to see, by deconstruction, just how much of your world is actually nothing more than some bullshit your head created to represent it.

I totally fucked myself up on this. Massive time. Second time I ended up in mental hospital operation mindfuck was the single initiating factor. I did it to myself. By this point I had been in the void, that terrifying place where even you, yourself do not exist. I'd gazed on absofuckinglutely nothing, through eyes that weren't there and after that it was the only thing that made sense.

Crowley says - 'nothing exists and is all things'

I know where he was coming from.

I'm up to my arse in Brexit Numpties, but I want more.  Target-rich environments are the new sexy.
Not actually a meat product.
Ass-Kicking & Foot-Stomping Ancient Master of SHIT FUCK FUCK FUCK
Awful and Bent Behemothic Results of Last Night's Painful Squat.
High Altitude Haggis-Filled Sex Bucket From Beyond Time and Space.
Internet Monkey Person of Filthy and Immoral Pygmy-Porn Wart Contagion
Octomom Auxillary Heat Exchanger Repairman
walking the fine line line between genius and batshit fucking crazy

"computation is a pattern in the spacetime arrangement of particles, and it's not the particles but the pattern that really matters! Matter doesn't matter." -- Max Tegmark

Jenne

Yep.  It took my dad going to jail for me to see how easily one little thread holds the whole illusiary world together.  After that, patterns don't exist, and life as you'd always known it, within and without, just dissolves. 

And this happens in every scenario--going out to get the mail, driving your kids to school, etc. etc.

And the dysphoria...shit...that is what drives the nailhead home.

Shit

That's what I hate about chaos.  The cursed damnation of it all when the world inverts.  Only happened to me a couple of times when I was dabbling in methamphetamines, but it left a lifelong scar.  Literally.  You can't see it anymore because I got a black sun heart tattoo over it, but I tried to impale myself.  A wooden stake through the heart.  I coulda just jumped off a building or bought a gun, but I was in a zone where I wanted to go out and for some reason I wanted people to know why, and believe me.  I guess I coulda just wrote a note, but I was so psychotic at the time that could barely control myself.  Of course it would have only made a ripple effect of sorrow and chaos had I succeeded, and did anyway, but now that I'm back to some semblance of sanity with a quasi-illusive dash of life and love, I can repair some of the grief I instilled in those around me.  It was as vampiric as it gets without actually turning into a bat.  Nothing mattered and there was no love in me.  No reflection.  Empty, hollow heart.  Ghost in a body.  But, best not to dwell in Tartarus too long, unless it gets funnier than this (funny that it always does around here).  Chaos magic really can be bad shit, though it can also effect mental healing.  Double edged blade that.  Anyways, back to getting my life in order amidst great and terrible chaos.  When Eris rolls apples, make cookies and pie.
So long, and thanks for all the shit.

Jasper

Scientific Fact: A few days of sleep deprivation induces hallucinations comprable to LSD.

Cain

Unless LSD really sucks, I find that hard to believe.

Jasper

No, your brain just freaks the fuck out.  I read this in Psychology Today, but haven't tried it.

Cain

Trust me, I've been awake days at a time.  Apart from spiders out of the corner of your eyes, there is nothing.

That One Guy

Well, unless I had some rather weak acid (a definite possibility) I'd say the visual aspect of both LSD and sleep deprivation past, oh 40ish hours straight will produce remarkably similar visual effects. Although acid never really did much for me visually (slight "walls breathing" and minor color shifts at most) so it might just be a personal thing.

Mushrooms were much more visually intense, and sleep deprivation doesn't come close to the visuals on shrooms IMO. Acid for a head trip, shrooms for all the pretty colors  :crackhead:
People of the United States! We are Unitarian Jihad! We can strike without warning. Pockets of reasonableness and harmony will appear as if from nowhere! Nice people will run the government again! There will be coffee and cookies in the Gandhi Room after the revolution.

Arguing with a Unitarian Universalist is like mud wrestling a pig. Pretty soon you realize the pig likes it.

Shit

There is no wake but dreams.
So long, and thanks for all the shit.

Jasper

I used to be so disinterested in classes at High School that I'd stare sleepily at the ceiling for almost n hour at a time.  After a while I'd be able to see the walls bending or breathing slightly just by imagining it hard enough.

Shit

Me too.  After High School becomes all possibility.  So long as you do not blow your school up you could move on to become an astronaut, a messiah, or just dead.
So long, and thanks for all the shit.

maphdet

They say a small kid's life is similar to an acid trip.

ahh to be a kid again. ;)
I wish I was in Tijuana
Eating barbequed iguana-