A Moment of Respite

New View found a bit of time to respite in the moment, having dredged through an erudite treatise on the nature of god and the existence of evil, having found the philosophical back and forth without much clarity, though not without inspiration.

Learned Scholars seem to too caught up in defining the extent nature of words from a sort of shallow superconscious view of ego, without taking a moment to frame the question in terms of self and other (which can be as small as self and tool (mechanical, artistic, sensory, etc), and blown out into self and everything in experience and beyond (micro-other ------ macro-other) With an infinite variation of scope between them. So taking it from the perspective of a...............

As NV's philosopher began to play with the shiny ideas of well heeled gentlemen, the real thing took a moment to do what it does. nothin' wrong with thinking, but when doin's gotta be, gotta do it.

><><><><>< Vision of things shiftin' , the Umbral rolling of the veil unfolding, a moment of the uncanny white-rainbow color that only can be seein' from the mind's eye formed as a circle emanating from the mind's eye itself swirled and dropped into the drain of the swirling abyss behind the eyes, feelin' a drop of some cold liquid drip in the bowls of the so-call body, the ever-commenting voice of uncertainty pull's a Spock out the right-sided voice, and for a moment, adrift ... Some Kinda Self is informed that a parcel has arrived at the door, but finds instead what NV thought was the delivery man in the side room, the Laptop Gallery, and comes to realize that this entity itself is the delivery. With a benevolence and caution held in equal regard, NV reaches out, right handed, to welcome the stranger.

Brown duster coat and hat, short reddish-blonde hair, light blue eyes, the smallest dabble of a mustache, and a look of hesitant uncertainty, but after a pause, bloke takes the offered hand {should be said, NV's vision was not able to see the hand outstretched in welcome, and the stranger's hand reaching out reached under the limits of the third eye clarity window -- the contact point unseen}

Though NV never felt hand-to-hand contact, slowly the entity faded from view, leaving an burnt-umber spot in it's place. NV was a little puzzled by this, but as the vision closed.. ><><><><><

NV not only felt the vision close, but some undeniable sense of an inward rushing sensation. So taking a moment to pause and let whatever just happened sink in............ NV realized there was a guest in this preposterous experience of self along for the ride? Who knows. No human words describe the interchange between self and other as composite, but just that sense of knowing, feeling, thinking, being that comes from it.

NV considers that {not shown above} since the philosopher worked out how the appearance of evil doesn't really contradict the existence one way or the other of God, it's probably the case the if anyone's to be told of this experience, chances are good they'd say NV's already punched his ticket on the train to hell.

NV shrugged and considered that even the devil ought to make an interesting experience of self and other. While relying on what some would call faith, that where-ever this journey might lead, whatever one might consider to be God is along for the ride too. 

Distortion Analysis Exogenic

Controlled Analysis for Historical Idiosyncrasies

1. Subjective Experience of "Tomato Feet"

• Child Post Death 1: "Subject Identifies moment of 'split foot' wherein viewing a 'split' tomato in MOTHER's garden, saw or felt or had a foot 'split' right foot that didn't bleed, ooze, or fester, claims to have healed without intervention. MOTHER entity claimed normalcy of experience.
• ADolescent: "Subject Identifies stepping on 'cat food can lid' removed by 'Nonnie' (pet dog by way of Father's uncharacteristic intervention via Maternal Uncle, Alt House) that split foot in mirrored in the left foot, while on the phone with entity "Eko", cutting conversation short. Emergency room visit includes local anesthetic that causes the sensation of 'gushing' fluid from wound while also numbing. Stitches. Removed without incident later.

1. Distortion in Perception of Familial Interactions "Memories of UV Level Youth Experience"

• Memory of what REDACTED recalls as a 'military compound' in a 'valley' surrounded by chain link fence, late at night. Seems to recall that (problematic) member of family taken there for un-explained reasons one night, but that upon visiting location in YA perspective, appeared to be a 'normal' rehabilitation center for at-risk youth. (Subject indicates multiple indications of UV level substrate memories of different family interactions that seems disconnected and confused. Memories indicate a constant and unrelenting 'downgrade' of perspective with many incidents of being told to 'look at something' while suspect 'family [INCEPT] members' did unexplained and unremembered things and were told not to stop looking despite worry/fear not only at being deceived but that something inexplicably wrong was happening. {Someone remembers, fool}

1.  Inexplicable Audio Certainties

• Upon first and only successful attempt at REDACTED to end {nicotine} addiction, experienced a moment of 'fairy' music, coming from everywhere and nowhere. Described as 'more beautiful than anything in 'reality'.
• Soon after YA Post Death 2: experienced 'podcast' from local internet from 'facility' on the 'other side of the continent' that contained inexplicably pleasant feelings that did not seem to fit into any of REDACTED's sense of apparent current reality paradigm (flux levels: highly unstable at time of incident) {reignited memories of UV reality, feelings of safety and contentment and peace}

Once More Unto The Void

Now it was that the sense of bereavement set into YA's soul, stranger in a strange land, abandoned, afraid, confused, sad. What strange set of coincidences brought YA to this place? What was it callin? Cause the run needed to happen, but what brought this place into a set of circumstances that matched destination criteria? Why did a set of stupid coincidences, like a reversed remembered first name that could never be shaken till the moment YA met the one who had the look and held the name, of the two comedians reversed? Something -broke- and the map ceased to be the territory, and the entire sense of self and other vanished. But it wasn't.. liberating. It was a fire that burned in the hole that felt like YA's stomach, so bright and so warm that it engulfed the whole world YA knew that night.

No planning, no thought, no action, no ritual. YA tried to make new friends, YA heard their truth, the Cheshire (The Anima Chained) and The Kindly One (The Anima Free), and the destination set itself. Stormed himself down the stairs, round the bend, thinking 'gone be late, 'gone be late, with the stride of a majordomo off to the place where the money trap was, an argument trailing in the nerves like an argument between the devil and angel YA sat betwixt. YA shouted to down inside 'mself  {it's locked, it's locked, it's locked}

Door swung open like an invitation. The rage became silence. Piercing, remarkable, blissful silence.

Up the stairs and across to the center of the market, where the money trap was, be takin what's remiss,borrowed though it is, and the Janitor man shouted "Hey! What are you doing here?" "Getting my money out."

Here a pause, potent but pregnant. Then the Cheshire took the Janitor's Face, and says "I'm glad you got your money." And a crackle of the multicolored light framing the intertwining of Janitor and Cheshire. [both masks; one physical, one symbolic]

Silence persisted, but the fire was slowly becoming a rumbling distant but speeding from without and within. A shiver too subtle to experience as a noise, but too loud to shake YA. Found the Merchant, black hair, bandana, and shadows obscuring face. Black dog at his side, regarding YA with benevolent but unmoved eyes.

"Cheshire said you have the key." - spoke YA- And revealed the necessary debt bills.

A moment's hesitation from Merchant. "Course I have what you need. (translated badly)"

A pocket opened faster than the eye could see, and the key was produced. "Enjoy yourself."

YA returned to the 4 rooms, and waited for the unplanned party to form itself. For YA knew that it would. And when it did, the key was used, and the door unlocked.

And the party was on. People talked, people laughed, people played cards. Beers were had. Dog had his day. But YA now... the key was unlocking something unexpected. Something unbidden.

{The entire body becomes distortion. The soul becomes the noise. Calls to the Void. Shaking, distortion, so loud, spinning, shouting, crackling lightning, YA's body is sitting calmly in the corner by the front door, but YA's soul isn't there. YA calls, please, please, please, please, please, PLEASE HELP. " -- that last one the most earth-shaking mouse squeak ever been heard. But only one heard it. The ? in a dark blue dress with dark black hair, whom up till that point.... never seemed to have been there the entire time. Why was she the only one who saw the soul screaming while the body wouldn't move?}

-snip snip snip- <----- ???? Who was the editor?

David and Morrison helped YA back to the 4 rooms. Shaking and crying and lost took YA to the OiV, told em calm and stare at this and listen to the music, {something was/had happened that they covered up from YA's eyes, for reasons beyond this perspective's ken} and when YA realized it wasn't right, got up and drug the crying man inside into the 2 of 4 rooms, collapsed in the center of the room and screamed into the darkness consuming YA for {The one that cannot be loved}.

A quiet darkness, interrupted by third eye seeing, 'body' on the raised bed, the OTHER inside speaking with the 'body's lips and voice, YA couldn't make out the words being said, but the OTHER was laughing and having a grand old time, YA third eye watching but not able to interfere. The OTHER with it's eyes indicated that 'blameless' should not enter, and they took/kept 'em from the room without the OTHER ever stopping it's story, just making things happen with it's eyes. But as the OTHER continued YA began to panic, began to worry that what was happening was wrong. YA looked for shelter, looked for anywhere but the multicolored light was in the Girl in the Hat's eyes, and into them YA felt the soul spiral into those Void Eyes.

{{{{{{{SECOND DEATH}}}}}}

Interlude B

Members of the Counsel on Entropic Relations: We Begin with the ritual Transgression of Logical Thought.

Christian Era, Normal Time: 6/20/2016

Interception of Transmission from the Redacted:

Darkwhisper: Make up your mind. Make up, Your Mind. Make up your... mind?
Mind your own damn business.

 VoidSession: I don't have my own business.

Darkwhisper: Make up your own damn business.

 VoidSession: Crows come around, told me I could be a frog, led me through a crap twine, remind'd me explorers look but don't touch. But I want to see the hearts, and touch them. Just for a moment, to show em'. They still there, afterall.

VoidSession: But it's easy to do that. Make up your own damn business. Our business is your pleasure. Pleasure and pain, only signposts on the road we all gotta walk someday. Which way they turn you is up to you and yours, matter of fact.

---- (Esthero): You are a divine reflection of this earth, she does not belong to you no... There is no need for your correction

Darkwhisper: ...

VoidSession: Frogs. Remember being a frog once, in saltwater that stung my flesh and the artificial (HA) freshwater beach that didn't care what I was, but enjoyed the company in it's own way. Beachers payed no mind. Can't see what isn't there for them, aftermuch. Child didn't even know what it was then. Just an afterthought in the moment.

Darkwhisper: Rumor spirit called you toad.

VoidSession: Blood cousin child called me witch. Puck called me werewolf. Len called me shapeshifter. ABC called me Kitsune.

Darkwhisper: You think that crap is you, Child?

VoidSession: That is the best fucking question, anyone ever asked. We all wear many hats. But not so much nomore. Mostly we wear other people to mask our hearts, and expand our minds.

--- Transmission Cut

Let the Counsel on Entropic Relations be fuckin right off back to wherever you go when you're not bothering the rest of us. Oh, and happy belated fathers day, everyone!

Meeting A Stranger-Than

Young Adult had been having a rough time of it lately, to say the least. Tragedy after tragedy, world turned  upside down. Ruined friendships, uncontrolled actions and reactions. Focus spiraling in and out. Spouting radical honesty at what YA thought was inappropriate times, then shivering in terror and relief when the news went well, cringing in horror when it went the other way. Hurt a friend beyond YA's understanding. Lost and lost and lost. Many tales could come from those days, walking through the shadow of death. This is but one.

At a time when strangeness had it's grip, and nothing seemed like it could be the same anymore, YA was taken carefully to a psychologist.

There were two  secretaries in the shared office pool, the fairer one made a comment about how YA got hair so long, down to the midsection. YA was feeling honest, said just let it grow and grow, over years. But that it had just stopped  about where it was. Seems like it won't grow longer, or would take a long, long years. The suave one never looking from her work agreed, that's true! I've heard that before! YA pondered that, cause remembers seein a lady on the tv who grew hair out the door and round the back yard once. Maybe every bodys body's there own business.

Glasses-white-tail greeted YA calmly, offered a chair. The words were exchanged, but something about the words seemed hollow and unreal to YA. Monotone and script fed was GWT. Though maybe GWT said something about being a hypnotist..... And that's when the multicolored specks of light in the shape of a tower (about adult sized) came to into focus, off to the right between YA and the potted plant (Was it real? Was it fake? At this point, did the distinction matter? --- referring to the plant, of course) .

For once in YA's life, 'stared boldly at the apparition, roughly where one could imagine eyes might be,... if it had eyes. A grin that Fox would approve of formed, eyes widened, as the conversation with GWT was maintained minimally, but YA never took eyes off of their visitor. A mental image formed, though it was a projection of YA's mind. GWT asked YA if there was anything to be asked of him? Just out of curiosity, asked if YA was going to be hypnotised. GWT said he didn't think it would be helpful. YA considered that maybe hypnosis was a term for letting that pillar of lights do whatever it was intended to do.

When it seemed like the visitor wasn't going to appear to do anything, YA wrapped up the conversation with GWT. YA didn't return. Seemed like what needed to be seen was seen. Though it wasn't the end of the troubles, no. Not even the beginning.

Confrontations

One day, Child reluctantly acquired the attention of a future friend, but  there was angst. A duel was scheduled in a usually empty cul de sac not far from the field.

Slim-tall, older sibling of a friend, was told of the impending ordeal. Child did not know how to fight, but watched silently as the specs of multicolored light spun around ST. ST spun around and tried to psych Child up with aggressive language. Child was less than enthusiastic. But advice was given, to push in at the abdomen before the fight. Child mimed but it hurt. Why hurt oneself before a fight began?

At the appointed time and place, FF was a little late. All the while, Child felt the blood tighten, the muscles primed with gently gripped then released hands, partially in frustration. Just as Child was about to let out a sigh of relief, the duelist appeared around the corner, walking in an intimidating but slow pace. Child's chin tilted up slightly, eyes narrowed. The defender waited.

The FF and Child circled, FF tossing accusations, insults. But never stepping forward. Child remained silent. No need to waste breath before the onslaught. FF slowly wore himself down; Child stood the ground. A small eternity passed, then a few words of admittance were exchanged that neither was really interested in harming the other. With some relieved breath and soft laughter, it was agreed that it was a draw - to save their mutual honor. Child kept his word.

It was a draw. End of discussion.

Not Always Aware

Now Child was known a friend of the trees, save the Icebog Impaler. Wound still stings every now and then; and the homeland still knows Child's blood.

But Adolescent wasn't always in a good place. Emotions unknown and ideas unread start to flood in the hidden body. ADolescent started making choices. AD started making mistakes.

One fateful day, AD stormed into 3/4th house in a rage. Something been stewin, somethin ain't going right. Rage like hot ice in the blood and bitter candy once bitten. Probably bout someone AD fancied. Probably heard the word on the grapevine Eko moved on with not a word. Not a letter. Not a hint. It wasn't so much that it happened, no. That AD wasn't considered worth telling. Infuriating. Unreal. But what comes around goes around, and rudeness begets rudeness. Sometimes in more than one way, splintering off like a whiskey bottle shattered with a baseball bat, collateral damage ensues.

But AD wasn't one to harm no-one, and thoughts of Eko had, among other things, pushed DF into  the subconscious, or back to the Dream.

Harm no one, good, but along with DF, AD forgot to be the tree friend. Forgot in the worst way. Storming around, looking around for an outlet, AD saw the hand ax, sitting there. It didn't call out, but it was in the hand before long. Went straight back to Old Greybark, beside the old red tree-rise. No thought, no consideration, AD put all the rage, all the feeling of betrayal into a single swing. A single gash. After the moment past, AD looked into the wound. And though didn't  ask to be forgiven right then, felt a hot, slow river run down the cheek and shook it off, went inside to hide in the den, not even stoppin to greet the four legged family. Shut in, AD cried.

Greybark didn't exactly react right away, and AD later considered it might be okay. Not so, not so. Took awhile for the old giant to bleed, but when he did, it was a torrent, measured in years. AD eventually learned to regret what happened, and once asked Greybark for forgiveness. Never did 'feel' a response -- somethin was already numbin by then, a bad habit Eko left with 'em, though unknowingly, at first, enabled by the Mother. But if GB didn't forgive, seems like acceptance or indifference was going to be all there was to it.

The First Challenge

Following the first death (editor's note: death, lowercase: total loss of consciousness following an incident), something went terribly wrong with Child's life. Memories were lifted and shifted, some things happened before they should have, some things happened long after the cause. Child couldn't laugh so much no more. Child couldn't talk so well no more. Child couldn't understand so much the other people no more. No one cept the Mother. Some things happened. Father kicked the screen door in one night. Child thought it was heard that evening layin in bed, but Mother told him of it later. Not long then, Mother took Child to another place. A different place. Didn't feel too bad, but didn't feel too great neither.

Child didn't want to sleep in by self, couldn't explain the terror commin that night. Begged and pleaded to the Mother, but in the end, Child was left to abide. Something was commin. Something Child never knew before. Child didn't sleep normal no more. Was the first time Child felt an Other in the Dream. Might have been the first time Child dreamed. Couldn't remember. Didn't want to remember after.

Child felt himself being moved. Child felt the body sliding along the conveyer belt, a demonic machine with blades and grinders but... smooth and silent, no sound, but Child could feel it's vibration. Child could see The Marionettes come to the side. One Pink in the foreground, one Blue in the background. Blue slowly withdrew from sight. Child couldn't always see'm, they didn't move like people move. But Child felt them. Felt the left side and guts been torn and twisted, cut open and sewn back together wrong. Everything was wrong now. Child screamed and screamed but no words came out. Not till they's done. Then the scream came out, child woke in a panic'd sweat. Tears pouring from the floodgates. Mother came, held, and rocked together with Child, "Shhh, shhh, don't cry. Twas but a dream, child. Twas but a dream. And dreams ain't real." she implored. "But, but, but.." "They're not REAL, child. Come on. Come on. Calm down. Go back to sleep." "But what if...?" Mother rounded the corner, Child heard: "GO. TO. SLEEP."

More nightmares. In the dream Child tried to escape to the Aunt-Cousin's house, but the Mare paralyzed 'm, movement slowed, and struggling in an invisible cage, the Mare had it's fun. Got its fill, and left him back in the bed to scream some more. "GO! TOO! SLEEP!" from the other room, the room of the Mother and MOTHER. The Child was balling. Child couldn't understand. But Child obeyed, cause child was good. So the child ran and ran, back in the dreaming, this time didn't make it that far, just down to the living room, round'n the corner Child saw the MOTHER, sittin' knees folded underneath. Child groveled and begged at the knees of the MOTHER. "Please, please protect me mother. It can't get me when you're around!" MOTHER said 'Come, child. Know I won't always be around to protect you..' more words fade into a surrussus as she floated away faster than Mother ever did.

Soon as MOTHER was gone, BAM! Mare got Child right in the head, left side. Never saw it, but in the mind's eye Mare did it with a giant mallet. As the warm blood pooled under the head and around the cheek, they cackled with glee. Child stared with wide open eyes out the windows of the atrium, out into the bright daylight. Child was in the shadows though. Child knew they won't to be seen in the light.

Child woke again, shaking, scared, confused. Mother sighed as she ambled down the hallway to the threshold of the room. "Child, Go the fuck to sleep."

Child slept. Slept in peace this time, not for long though. And not very often. And not very well most ways.

To Be Continued

Of Time Spent in Silent Play

When Child was in grade school, on the playground mostly alone. But usually smiling. Walking a mobius between two pine trees with interlocking roots, brushing fingertips along the bark of each with the nearest hand. Chatting with Dream Friend in audio silence, learning how to gently caress the wood of the bark, making it sing it's joy into the hand, a vibration once felt always remembered. And happily shared.

The trees knew when Child was upset, and did not mind when the roughness wasn't containable- it was barely a thing compared to the gouging of feline claws.

Introduction: Choosing an Avatar

Chose to find a picture of 'tv static' to represent the constant 'visual noise' that encompases the entire visual field almost at all times. In searching for the appropriate one to use, find that these images both resemble QR codes. some are called Grey Noise, and this somehow seems appropriate. Would be that we'll come back to this later. And of course, dots aren't always grey. And aren't always dots. Sometimes you see the forest through the mists.