Letho

[Letho]

 

Christmas Haunted Hospital and Lessons to Learn from the Carol Sphere:

The days here in the hospital are becoming increasingly indistinguishable even though this night at the haunted house of comic variation of Ghost Buster's has only just begun, as though time itself is quietly slipping through the cracks of the sterile walls around me, injecting bubbles into my skin on the strike of midnight forcing a floating to the ceiling for nurses in the morning to preach that they'll be reducing my medication from now on. The hum of machines, the distant murmur of footsteps indistinguishable from spiritual friend or foe, everything seems to echo with a rhythm I can barely grasp, each second passing as if it were part of something larger, something I can almost understand but can never fully reach other than to say that on the edge of all enquiry, humorous and otherwise, I deeply miss my father and I have no doubt staying in the hospital under the conditions I am including being back in my home country reminds me of my father's late stay much more. I can’t help but feel as though I’ve wandered into a space between spaces sometimes as I try to build a trench between my thoughts so I can take the time to reflect on what my mind builds, neither fully here nor entirely there, where the past and future bleed into one another, losing their distinct boundaries, and for me at least that's hardly glass behind glass I see myself from solely because of the medication; there's an existential yearning, a deeper spiritual closure I seek with my father, that we all seek with our loved ones concerning the movement of life as it departs from ours.

I find myself sitting with this feeling, tracing the outline of time, like someone searching for meaning in the fog sometimes as I stare out the window where there's a helipad not far from me. The silence presses in, and yet it somehow feels familiar, there's no chimney here but if Santa wanted to, he could come through the window here given there's helipad access from my window and yes, my adventurous side has certainly thought of it, both the child in me dares me while reminding me of early childhood memories of the looming Christmas and the films that surrounded, Home Alone Three was a big one for our family for many years; everything just felt.. special. Like home. The times of his times used to be not just generational but historically without this digital era, when it didn’t feel like something to be managed or measured, but something that simply was, in the same way our freshly cut Christmas tree simple "was", it didn't need to do anything it could just be the beauty of nature both in life and, following it's natural course. I can’t help but think of the years long past, before the weight of responsibilities and decisions started to press down on me. Back then, there was a magic to time, a sense of wonder. I remember Christmas from when I was a child, how the entire season felt like it carried with it an essence that couldn’t be captured, but could only be felt in the quiet moments leading up to the day where my younger redheaded sister and I would playfully fight over where we were going to sleep underneath the tree. I’d stay awake at night on Christmas Eve, we'd listen to Christmas carols and roast marshmallows in the fireplace, and then when put to bed  waiting for morning with the sparkling lights above we'd know something incredible was just around the corner, but not quite yet, we could feel my mother and brother moving about as elves placing presents around as gently as possible in the sacks and under the tree but still we held the dream within before it was spoiled. The anticipation itself was the gift, not the wrapped presents, not the food or the decorations. It was the feeling that the world was full of endless possibilities, each moment loaded with potential.

Time felt different then, in that simplicity and we were treated in that way as well. We weren't spoken to or posed questions like we were going to generate encyclopedic responses or write the next Frederich Nietzche in our following sentence, we just were like the tree, accepted with the flow of the rest of the environment in the way it unfolded like a story still being told. Each day leading up to Christmas stretched on forever, and yet, somehow, it never felt like a burden, it was an adventure, a slow reveal of something yet to come. The pine cone collection, the long walks and explorations in the backyard and neighbourhood followed by the 6:30pm ritualistic rich smell of dinner that would flow from the kitchen seemingly out to wherever we were far enough that it would grab our attention to return as dutiful soldiers back to our holiday barracks. I can still recall the stillness in the air, the quiet excitement that built with each passing hour. It was a kind of magic, the kind you can’t hold onto, the kind you can only recognize in retrospect. Now, I find myself looking back at that version of time, at the simplicity of it all, and feeling a loss. The thought of losing dad, mum or any of my siblings never crossed my mind as a possibility and reflecting on everything now makes me realise how oblivious and vulnerable my own love for everyone around me was. There was something undeniably beautifol about those years, before the world asked me to grow up, before I had to start keeping track of minutes, hours, days. Time became something that had to be controlled, regulated and responsible for, just to keep up with the demands of an adult world.

But even as time has sped up, there are moments when it pauses as I remember to take in my father's sense of humour and my mother's desire to cook a loving meal, when everything slows down just enough for me to take notice beyond own intellectual drunken stupor. Maybe those are the moments I should cherish the most as well, when I can just sit at a dinner table and laugh in hysterics with family and friends where my mind it's totally unpreoccupied with the next intellectual dilemma I'm trying to solve. It’s not the anticipation of something that’s coming, not the pressure to perform or succeeed during holiday times, but the moments that seem to hang in the air, suspended that really captures everything, that's when you know you can really feel safe and that, you've got everyone's safety too in your desire to protect them. Those are the moments that remind me of the Christmases I used to know, the ones where time didn’t feel like it was slipping away, but like it was something to be savored, that the rest of the world's didn't exist other than all of us around the same time of year co-contributing to the energy field of the spirit of Christmas. If I can’t hold onto the slowing of time while looking at my slowly evaporating marshmallow in my hit chocolate as a kid, then perhaps I can learn to appreciate it for what it is. Not as something to rush through, but as something to live through. To breathe through, a way to learn to rebreath is what I believe holds as something more on the other side of the lessons of Christmas for me to come that I look forward to.

I’ve realized that the rush of daily life, the constant ticking of the clock, can’t be avoided. It’s inescapable, even the clockwork here in the hospital. But there’s a kind of beauty in allowing time to flow around me without always feeling the need to control it, at least, that's a powerlessness I've just had to embrace while being here stuck in a hospital bed allowing me to a get a new perspective on consciousness in this period of the year. The struggle to manage each moment, each decision among all of us, there’s a certain exhaustion in that, a weight that seems unnecessary now even in its mastery. I think back to when I was younger, when life seemed so full of possibility, and I wonder if maybe, just maybe, the key to living fully is in letting go of the constant need to be in charge, at least to a degree. Instead of rushing to the next thing, perhaps I need to simply exist in the now, to breathe and observe, to take in each moment as it comes, without fighting against its current.

Sometmes, in the quiet of this hospital room, I find myself wondering about the path that has led me here. How did I arrive at this point, and what of it is mine to control? The noise of the outside world, the weight of the decisions I’ve made, it all fades in these moments of reflection. And in this space, in the absence of distraction, I realize that what I truly seek is peace. Not peace as the world defines it, but peace within myself. A stillness that isn’t bound by the ticking of the clock or the pressure of time. Time moves forward, granted, but it doesn’t have to drag us along with it at the speed it demands. We can choose how we respond to it. We can learn to let it pass us by, not with resistance, but with understanding.

This hospital room, this sterile space, feels both temporary and eternal, as though it exists in some place between those temporal gaps I brought up, almost as if I can slip through we extra-dimensions. I can’t help but see the parallels between this space and the way time works in my life, how my own mental exhaustion is the personification of the opposite I experience in existential limbo. Everything seems fleeting, but in those fleeting moments, there is such depth, such potential. I feel the surge to grasp it, but then I'm restrained by the physical calamity. The fleeting moments were the first thing I noticed upon my return to Australia, the obliviousness of the special expanse of time while simultaneously people were totally ensnared by its most rigid perception, the same dimensions I felt myself entrained in. The truth is, time doesn’t need to be feared or avoided. It’s not something that needs to be conquered. What if instead of trying to outrun it, we could find a way to embrace it, to let it carry us forward, to maximise our riding of the energetic waves we create together during our deepest moments? There’s an art to that, a subtle kind of grace. It’s not about letting time overwhelm us; it’s about understanding that we are participants in it, not its victims.

Perhaps it’s not the seasons or the milestones we count that make time meaningful, but the small spaces between those events, the quiet moments when the world seems to hold its breath, when everything feels suspended just long enough for us to take it all in. I think back to those childhood moments under the tree with my sister and playing with my next new toy with my brother's who's pretending to have a lot of fun, the quiet before the storm of presents, love and food, the excitement building, not in the external world, but in the space of my own imagination; there's both a longing there and a magic there that I have to appreciate for its force to truly empathise enough that the lessons can be learned. That was where time lived then, in the spaces between the clock’s tick, in the breaths taken before not just something new arrived but where we all got to arrive to one another, safely, lovingly and completelye free to be ourselves.

Time, with all its insistence, its forward motion, leaves us with a paradox from the mirror of Christmas, it is both the fleeting of moments of love held in memory and yet the eternality of its intentionality that truly make it beyond the materialism, where the materialism if anything, achieves what it setout, to be the mere decorations of what is a family and community ritual of love and cheer. And perhaps the only way to reconcile that paradox is to accept that we are not the masters of time in this sense as expressed, but its companions. We are not here to fight it, to bend it to our will, but to learn to move with it, to flow alongside it, in rhythm with its silent carol.

As I sit here in my hospital bed still, waiting for answers, I feel something shift inside me. Maybe it’s the recognition that time, in all its forms, its rushing, its pausing is a gift, not a curse. If I can learn to navigate it with grace, with acceptance, then maybe I’ll find something that has always eluded me, peace. Not the peace of stillness, but the peace of being fully alive, fully engaged with each passing moment, however it comes. And if I can do that, if I can truly learn to live in harmony with time, then perhaps I will finally understand what it means to live,  not just to exist, but to truly be in the way I know my father would want me to remember him. And as I reflect on all of this, I can’t help but wonder if this sense of time, this space between past and future, is something many others have felt as well in their reflections during this period. I don’t know if others experience time the same way, but there's a beauty in it the more souls that do who may just understand the rhythm, the pulse of it all. It's like, in the collapse of those gaps between space, it's another way you can resonate with another when you know they just get your experience. Time, in its strange way, always brings us back to the present. And here, in this moment, I find myself quietly thankful for the stillness, for the opportunity to reflect, and for the potential of what may come next, even if I am stuck in this bed awaiting my MRI results. At least they've hung Christmas lights and decorations around and if I'm here till Christmas, heck I don't see why someone like me wouldn't figure out a way to open the window to sit up on the helipad on the night before Christmas with a hot chocolate to help me get back to the early days of the night before Christmas. Now as for the energetic spirits I seem to be noticing and experiencing at night? Well I don't have anything Einsteinian there to surface unfortunately, and unless I get myself a Proton Pack which is what I believed they used, I'm stuck reminiscing old can-do Ghostbuster films to make it through the eerie night. And who knows, maybe there's something more at play I can integrate into my experience from their influence; open-mindedness.

All the best for the break.
 

[Letho]

 

So the cavernoma has been confirmed... 

 

 

[Letho]

I feel so blessed to have figured out that I was having seizures in such accommodating circumstances, my doctors never figured out why I was waking up in extreme pains over the last few years.

Well, I worked it out pretty quickly after I was alerted on Friday by a doctor that just happened to be walking by me at an airport where she saw me having a seizure bless her heart. 

It was the first time I've ever been informed by someone that I was having a seizure.

This seizure medication has already had a really positive impact on my mind in spite of the incredible lethargy that I've already reversed engineered a way out of, and a bit of dazedness as caught on the video just above but it's really no biggie. If you want I can link it again here if it's difficult to find. No really it's no trouble at all, I'd love to share the video again. Oh you don't want me to share it again? You didn't like it? You don't like my true self? You got offended? It's just a video. Or not 'just a video' as it's me in it but you get what I'm saying. Anyhow, I've been thinking of printing t-shirts for one of the certain freeze frames on that video if you're interested. Just sayin.

It's naturally irresponsible for me to share the kind of medication publicly, however needless to say it's radically altered the way I perceive my own mind in spite of the massive impact it's had on me and the fact that I've never taken drugs before outside a little bit of marijuana, antibiotics and some neurofen has only enhanced the impact. Granted, it's still going to be a learning curve in terms of overcoming side-effects however it's now led to completely new ways by which I steer my own development.

Anyhow I'm just going to replant this Christmas message here below to leave this journal in a good spot. It's a little ruminative but that's just the medication, it's now finding equilibrium so the worst of it is over, the rest of it is just up to building my own internal relationship with the medication.

Even though it's just a very basic medication, I'll never view my own mind in the same way again.

Yeah so, the medication has had a totally unexpected reboot for me.

All the best for this holiday break I'll be fine, Merry Christmas 🎄.

Stay safe, stay strong and... Remember your homeliest memories for this Christmas.

 

 

On 16/12/2024 at 5:17 PM, Letho said:

 

Christmas Haunted Hospital and Lessons to Learn from the Carol Sphere:

The days here in the hospital are becoming increasingly indistinguishable even though this night at the haunted house of comic variation of Ghost Buster's has only just begun, as though time itself is quietly slipping through the cracks of the sterile walls around me, injecting bubbles into my skin on the strike of midnight forcing a floating to the ceiling for nurses in the morning to preach that they'll be reducing my medication from now on. The hum of machines, the distant murmur of footsteps indistinguishable from spiritual friend or foe, everything seems to echo with a rhythm I can barely grasp, each second passing as if it were part of something larger, something I can almost understand but can never fully reach other than to say that on the edge of all enquiry, humorous and otherwise, I deeply miss my father and I have no doubt staying in the hospital under the conditions I am including being back in my home country reminds me of my father's late stay much more. I can’t help but feel as though I’ve wandered into a space between spaces sometimes as I try to build a trench between my thoughts so I can take the time to reflect on what my mind builds, neither fully here nor entirely there, where the past and future bleed into one another, losing their distinct boundaries, and for me at least that's hardly glass behind glass I see myself from solely because of the medication; there's an existential yearning, a deeper spiritual closure I seek with my father, that we all seek with our loved ones concerning the movement of life as it departs from ours.

I find myself sitting with this feeling, tracing the outline of time, like someone searching for meaning in the fog sometimes as I stare out the window where there's a helipad not far from me. The silence presses in, and yet it somehow feels familiar, there's no chimney here but if Santa wanted to, he could come through the window here given there's helipad access from my window and yes, my adventurous side has certainly thought of it, both the child in me dares me while reminding me of early childhood memories of the looming Christmas and the films that surrounded, Home Alone Three was a big one for our family for many years; everything just felt.. special. Like home. The times of his times used to be not just generational but historically without this digital era, when it didn’t feel like something to be managed or measured, but something that simply was, in the same way our freshly cut Christmas tree simple "was", it didn't need to do anything it could just be the beauty of nature both in life and, following it's natural course. I can’t help but think of the years long past, before the weight of responsibilities and decisions started to press down on me. Back then, there was a magic to time, a sense of wonder. I remember Christmas from when I was a child, how the entire season felt like it carried with it an essence that couldn’t be captured, but could only be felt in the quiet moments leading up to the day where my younger redheaded sister and I would playfully fight over where we were going to sleep underneath the tree. I’d stay awake at night on Christmas Eve, we'd listen to Christmas carols and roast marshmallows in the fireplace, and then when put to bed  waiting for morning with the sparkling lights above we'd know something incredible was just around the corner, but not quite yet, we could feel my mother and brother moving about as elves placing presents around as gently as possible in the sacks and under the tree but still we held the dream within before it was spoiled. The anticipation itself was the gift, not the wrapped presents, not the food or the decorations. It was the feeling that the world was full of endless possibilities, each moment loaded with potential.

Time felt different then, in that simplicity and we were treated in that way as well. We weren't spoken to or posed questions like we were going to generate encyclopedic responses or write the next Frederich Nietzche in our following sentence, we just were like the tree, accepted with the flow of the rest of the environment in the way it unfolded like a story still being told. Each day leading up to Christmas stretched on forever, and yet, somehow, it never felt like a burden, it was an adventure, a slow reveal of something yet to come. The pine cone collection, the long walks and explorations in the backyard and neighbourhood followed by the 6:30pm ritualistic rich smell of dinner that would flow from the kitchen seemingly out to wherever we were far enough that it would grab our attention to return as dutiful soldiers back to our holiday barracks. I can still recall the stillness in the air, the quiet excitement that built with each passing hour. It was a kind of magic, the kind you can’t hold onto, the kind you can only recognize in retrospect. Now, I find myself looking back at that version of time, at the simplicity of it all, and feeling a loss. The thought of losing dad, mum or any of my siblings never crossed my mind as a possibility and reflecting on everything now makes me realise how oblivious and vulnerable my own love for everyone around me was. There was something undeniably beautifol about those years, before the world asked me to grow up, before I had to start keeping track of minutes, hours, days. Time became something that had to be controlled, regulated and responsible for, just to keep up with the demands of an adult world.

But even as time has sped up, there are moments when it pauses as I remember to take in my father's sense of humour and my mother's desire to cook a loving meal, when everything slows down just enough for me to take notice beyond own intellectual drunken stupor. Maybe those are the moments I should cherish the most as well, when I can just sit at a dinner table and laugh in hysterics with family and friends where my mind it's totally unpreoccupied with the next intellectual dilemma I'm trying to solve. It’s not the anticipation of something that’s coming, not the pressure to perform or succeeed during holiday times, but the moments that seem to hang in the air, suspended that really captures everything, that's when you know you can really feel safe and that, you've got everyone's safety too in your desire to protect them. Those are the moments that remind me of the Christmases I used to know, the ones where time didn’t feel like it was slipping away, but like it was something to be savored, that the rest of the world's didn't exist other than all of us around the same time of year co-contributing to the energy field of the spirit of Christmas. If I can’t hold onto the slowing of time while looking at my slowly evaporating marshmallow in my hit chocolate as a kid, then perhaps I can learn to appreciate it for what it is. Not as something to rush through, but as something to live through. To breathe through, a way to learn to rebreath is what I believe holds as something more on the other side of the lessons of Christmas for me to come that I look forward to.

I’ve realized that the rush of daily life, the constant ticking of the clock, can’t be avoided. It’s inescapable, even the clockwork here in the hospital. But there’s a kind of beauty in allowing time to flow around me without always feeling the need to control it, at least, that's a powerlessness I've just had to embrace while being here stuck in a hospital bed allowing me to a get a new perspective on consciousness in this period of the year. The struggle to manage each moment, each decision among all of us, there’s a certain exhaustion in that, a weight that seems unnecessary now even in its mastery. I think back to when I was younger, when life seemed so full of possibility, and I wonder if maybe, just maybe, the key to living fully is in letting go of the constant need to be in charge, at least to a degree. Instead of rushing to the next thing, perhaps I need to simply exist in the now, to breathe and observe, to take in each moment as it comes, without fighting against its current.

Sometmes, in the quiet of this hospital room, I find myself wondering about the path that has led me here. How did I arrive at this point, and what of it is mine to control? The noise of the outside world, the weight of the decisions I’ve made, it all fades in these moments of reflection. And in this space, in the absence of distraction, I realize that what I truly seek is peace. Not peace as the world defines it, but peace within myself. A stillness that isn’t bound by the ticking of the clock or the pressure of time. Time moves forward, granted, but it doesn’t have to drag us along with it at the speed it demands. We can choose how we respond to it. We can learn to let it pass us by, not with resistance, but with understanding.

This hospital room, this sterile space, feels both temporary and eternal, as though it exists in some place between those temporal gaps I brought up, almost as if I can slip through we extra-dimensions. I can’t help but see the parallels between this space and the way time works in my life, how my own mental exhaustion is the personification of the opposite I experience in existential limbo. Everything seems fleeting, but in those fleeting moments, there is such depth, such potential. I feel the surge to grasp it, but then I'm restrained by the physical calamity. The fleeting moments were the first thing I noticed upon my return to Australia, the obliviousness of the special expanse of time while simultaneously people were totally ensnared by its most rigid perception, the same dimensions I felt myself entrained in. The truth is, time doesn’t need to be feared or avoided. It’s not something that needs to be conquered. What if instead of trying to outrun it, we could find a way to embrace it, to let it carry us forward, to maximise our riding of the energetic waves we create together during our deepest moments? There’s an art to that, a subtle kind of grace. It’s not about letting time overwhelm us; it’s about understanding that we are participants in it, not its victims.

Perhaps it’s not the seasons or the milestones we count that make time meaningful, but the small spaces between those events, the quiet moments when the world seems to hold its breath, when everything feels suspended just long enough for us to take it all in. I think back to those childhood moments under the tree with my sister and playing with my next new toy with my brother's who's pretending to have a lot of fun, the quiet before the storm of presents, love and food, the excitement building, not in the external world, but in the space of my own imagination; there's both a longing there and a magic there that I have to appreciate for its force to truly empathise enough that the lessons can be learned. That was where time lived then, in the spaces between the clock’s tick, in the breaths taken before not just something new arrived but where we all got to arrive to one another, safely, lovingly and completelye free to be ourselves.

Time, with all its insistence, its forward motion, leaves us with a paradox from the mirror of Christmas, it is both the fleeting of moments of love held in memory and yet the eternality of its intentionality that truly make it beyond the materialism, where the materialism if anything, achieves what it setout, to be the mere decorations of what is a family and community ritual of love and cheer. And perhaps the only way to reconcile that paradox is to accept that we are not the masters of time in this sense as expressed, but its companions. We are not here to fight it, to bend it to our will, but to learn to move with it, to flow alongside it, in rhythm with its silent carol.

As I sit here in my hospital bed still, waiting for answers, I feel something shift inside me. Maybe it’s the recognition that time, in all its forms, its rushing, its pausing is a gift, not a curse. If I can learn to navigate it with grace, with acceptance, then maybe I’ll find something that has always eluded me, peace. Not the peace of stillness, but the peace of being fully alive, fully engaged with each passing moment, however it comes. And if I can do that, if I can truly learn to live in harmony with time, then perhaps I will finally understand what it means to live,  not just to exist, but to truly be in the way I know my father would want me to remember him. And as I reflect on all of this, I can’t help but wonder if this sense of time, this space between past and future, is something many others have felt as well in their reflections during this period. I don’t know if others experience time the same way, but there's a beauty in it the more souls that do who may just understand the rhythm, the pulse of it all. It's like, in the collapse of those gaps between space, it's another way you can resonate with another when you know they just get your experience. Time, in its strange way, always brings us back to the present. And here, in this moment, I find myself quietly thankful for the stillness, for the opportunity to reflect, and for the potential of what may come next, even if I am stuck in this bed awaiting my MRI results. At least they've hung Christmas lights and decorations around and if I'm here till Christmas, heck I don't see why someone like me wouldn't figure out a way to open the window to sit up on the helipad on the night before Christmas with a hot chocolate to help me get back to the early days of the night before Christmas. Now as for the energetic spirits I seem to be noticing and experiencing at night? Well I don't have anything Einsteinian there to surface unfortunately, and unless I get myself a Proton Pack which is what I believed they used, I'm stuck reminiscing old can-do Ghostbuster films to make it through the eerie night. And who knows, maybe there's something more at play I can integrate into my experience from their influence; open-mindedness.

All the best for the break.
 

 

[Letho]

I have a responsibility to complete what I setout to do here, however I've still got a bit of work to fully adapt to the medication. I'll figure it out eventually. Just not entirely sure when this mind-body mechanism will adapt; it's pretty challenging. At least this humbles me. 

In other news, deciding on wife qualities has never been easier for men these days.

https://www.news.com.au/lifestyle/real-life/news-life/gold-coast-porn-star-shags-schoolies-team-gets-evicted-from-airbnb/news-story/9c226dfa4f6f35464f9fb892697ce72e?dicbo=v2-QG1kpvF&

 

I was so dazed from the incident and from the medication I kind of still am, so I never even bothered to get the details of the attending physician. She seemed like a normal woman. She taught me a lesson, after some introspection today I realised. It doesn't matter what ethnicity a woman is, what matters is her heart and consciousness development. In today's world, you need to minimise and prioritise criteria rather than either maximise or go with the flow, its paradoxical, you'd think you'd need a whole sleuth of things to vett through however in reality, you just need to identify cultures biggest problems and move in the opposite direction with respect to dating choices. Today it's cluster b personalities, especially those that are reactionary as in defense mechanisms which are the shadow variant of cluster b. Moreover it doesn't mean you vett for cluster b, instead you're just working to accurately scope the variation of empathy in someone. We've reached a point in society where because of our conformist behaviours, subconsciously empathy is actually being screened out rather than something you would normally just assume people look for, however because we're micro-expression screening organisms we're also unconsciously initiating micro-behavioral changes by the same indices, where before you know it, it's become the norm that empathy isn't even cared about perhaps even frowned upon within some social circles without the tribal group even being consciously aware of it to the point where if they were questioned on it, it would cause a chain reaction where there was some potential for redemptive change within the group, however for most cases in light of it only very rarely being flagged anyway, it would reduce back to the mean. 

So those are my two traits now, family and empathy and that's with friendships as well, I've mentioned family in the past. The two predict one another but they're both independent enough that it's rational to make accommodating shifts for both. Empathy is really the gold standard though to begin with, and it's just something everyone in light of today's culture needs to self educate themselves on as an intelligent reaction to unhealthy norms, like I'm a pretty savvy guy on this kind of stuff but I'm saying I need to work on the depth of my own system of understanding there, it's not easy. So everything now, a woman's intelligence, creativity, sensitivity, attractiveness, height, occupation, literally everything will be funneled through my own metrics for understanding the depth of how empathy 'behaves' in her versus where it doesn't 'behave' and why, it's also a fantastic foundation for how you understand someone as well. It's become so normalised now to not have our emotional needs met, it starts as a micro-expression that translates into micro-behavioral changes all the way to new broad social norms that characterise the limits of the humanity demonstrated to one another where said limits materialise it as mirroring something almost non-existent or arguably even a delusion. They've shifted from something that as a social norm partners as a whole culturally used to enjoy fulfilling to something that they treat like it's a job rather than a love to even not caring at all to being a complete burden.

I now hold myself to a new set of personal standards concerning social norms now that I'm more deeply aware of these cultural issues we have in the west, vetting every possible micro-behavior I can within myself to take responsibility for the influence that I have, it's also the only real power we have over the cultural situation but it's a lot of power the more we can exert this discipline over our decision making. It's a decision that leads me to consciously understanding that more and more I have to workout how to monopolize my own individuality, however by the same token, it's the illusion of freedom and individuality that got us into this mess, so by the same measure also re-sourcing the people I choose to have around me, trusting their counsel given they're in my life because of the fact they're trustworthy people, not because I've ignored and made excuses for unhealthy behaviours in the past or just behaviours that I just... Didn't fully understand. I hope my self-admission here empowers others to contemplate the environment of their own consciousness in the behaviours that it manifests, that in saying so they too have the power if they want to build the awareness to identify patterns within themselves and assert with their own authority and philosophy what they deem a positive versus a negative adaptation for their own development, in this case for example I would cite my own past aggressions as one example of a compensatory behaviour that developed as a consequence of not knowing how to regulate the environmental influences of my own consciousness and by the same token, execute the level of personal responsibility that I was certainly capable of and that we may never know we're capable of until we have someone reveal by their own example that they can indeed make a choice, that it's within their power to chart their own course in their personal development with slow, mature, incremental appraisals and not only the right social influences hut also the right judgement calls on where their own individuality fits in the larger collective picture; removing their naivety on power they don't have and expanding the accuracy on their level of powers they do have is one behavioral adaptation that can bring enormous progress in someone's development. I would also cite how in the past due to cultural influences I've felt the need to be more narcissistic than I actually am, these days now I am more than happy to just simply choose company where I don't feel the need to act in any way that is outside my own personal integrity towards the continual building of my own character.

As for medicine, wow, yeah this situation has coincidentally coincided in a strange way, I'm in no position to begin studies in 2025 and my GAMSAT scores will be valid for two years anyway, I'm just extremely grateful I did as well as I did to expand on my freedom of choice however at the same time, I don't think I've utilised that freedom as wisely as I could have in the past. For me, given Ukraine is not only not a wise decision for me early in 2025, medically I'm not going to get the clearance I need because of the epilepsy now and on top of that there's a few geopolitical red flags I'm still unhappy with concerning the conflict; becoming a medical doctor though long term for me just seems like a wise decision, including socially, and where for 2025 I will just focus on money, investment and preparing my mind in a way that I can strategize my studies to be as seamless as possible while living a full life as of course that's the biggest thing medical students struggle with the most during their education.

In sum, to make it in this world today in the sense where you truly live an internally rich life you've gotta figure out a way to enjoy the process of going inside of yourself, objectively sorting out your own patterns and then like a surgeon, removing or even adding in carefully thought out behaviours that simultaneously you can do while still feeling in alignment with your true self. To do that though you've really gotta take complete ownership over who you are and what you're creating from moment to moment and that's super difficult for a lotta people especially when so many good people as well struggle when it comes to personal awareness. The best advice I have in that regard is just to be honest with where your struggles are and then socially, being honest with where there's influencers that either positively or negatively encourage the wisest movement forward for someone and making the judgement call there that's going to be within your wisest interest there. We don't get to choose how we're born or what we're born into, however, even in spite of any cavernoma your brains already moulded it's adaptations beyond, don't ever let anyone especially yourself convince yourself that you can't choose the patterns for how you proactively respond to the world. We design our own limits in as much as we're unaware of them, we get designed inside the gap of freedom we give the external world to run a muck; don't view the external as an enemy, no, it's a collaborator now and this collaboration has standards that need to be met that you won't fall below just as much as you don't accept any less, in this case, a translation of cultural vetting into familial design intelligence into responsible consciousness self-engineering; that's what's going to design the life self-authorship otherwise hidden foreground that's usually kept from view to something that's instead replaced by unconscious and unhealthy reliance on micro-cultural patterns.

All the best for the Christmas holidays everyone 🎄.

 

 

Edited Thursday at 01:16 PM by Letho

[Letho]

Right into New Year's Resolution, yeah no messing about:

Become the richest person in my country by the end of next year.

I literally didn't give a fuck about my wealth yesterday, however as of today even though it's been looming in my subconscious for a number of months now, I am worried about my own future freedom, including the future freedom of people I love. So it's as simple as off-setting that. And yal know how much I've talked about that being an entrenched ideal in my genetics. This is probably going to be like my Bangkok run, I'll just make it to Phnom Penh but fuck, at least I'll make it to Phnom Penh by the end of next year and something will have to perhaps physically stop me from going any further as what happened with immigration heh. And it's pretty feasible.

Thought I'd just jump right into it, get folk thinking about how they're going to step into the running tracks before Jan 1st. 

I'll start sharing my own financial creativity in January sometime after  Eleftheria/MemVinci. And please remember previously noted disclaimer for all intensive purposes concerning all my share here. Without expressing it in my journal just privately criticise the fuck out of me in a way that advances your own critical thinking haha, as the stuff I'll be sharing will be advanced so as long as you're doing it in a way that's self reflective you'll only be advancing yourself and it'll drive your own passion to serve your own freedom in the right way.

Heh, I love this journal space. I'd personally hate for my journal or any journal I have to go viral in any way, I prefer anonymity but I love a small flock in the right temperature to just share my mind without any hayfever.

Love yah and Merry Christmas, sincerely, just go have a fun bash 🎄🌎👌. Find the love, find your own personal new years resolution to run out the gates with before the years beginning.

 

Best Light.

 

 

Edited Saturday at 07:16 AM by Letho

[Letho]

 

Meta-Awareness of Biological Responses: Surfing the Horizonal Analysis of Sentient Evolutionary Triggers. 

An African American, 6 Police Officers and... Me.

The human mind, especially when one attains a certain level of introspective mastery, begins to function in a manner that transcends the limitations of ordinary cognition. What I mean here is an acute meta-awareness that I'm presently meta-cognitive of, feeling the unique sensations of it wash over unusual metamorphoses of my consciousness in the creation of the egoic joint avatar of me moment to moment, an awareness that doesn’t simply acknowledge but actively tracks and unpacks the biological, cognitive, and emotional responses to external stimuli, resonating with evolutionary imperatives embedded deep within my physiology, flames above and surrounding the fire I cannot fully describe the colour to the contours of.

This meta-awareness, is like feeling into new waves to surf in the ocean that could overcome me in any moment and swallow me whole, while at the same time remaining an area of deep fascination, an intrigue that forces pausation to discover deeper... Causation... In the moment of its experience, transforming the mere cascade of evolutionary responses into an analysis that reaches a consciousness convergence that generates novel enlightening experiences I haven't experienced before, turning the seemingly trivial into the ineffably indescribable I can speak about to no one other than.. in this journal space here. Meta-awareness is still a juncture, a translation from train station to mastery of all its railway tracks, that's far from either complete or traversed, as the vastness of the biological mechanisms and neurobiological impulses underlying my human to "evolutionary human" behaviorally is far more intricate and nuanced than any simple narrative could capture, or that I have understood yet, and whether any heights I've traversed of "extra-human" is either human, "evolutionarily human" 🧬 or both, is still not fully determined. Regardless, like a tiger staring back on itself like a predator, my continued observation of these internal states allows me to peel back layers of sentience that speak to something beyond mere cognition, the primality of self-aggression on my own self-awareness , evolutionarily encoded in the double helix of my self-gaze, still accessible at higher consciousness when observed with the right sniper scope and protective tension.

Presently, I am bound by one of those seemingly mundane scenarios converted into an ineffable aggressive self-awareness. My observation of a group of six uniformed officers surrounding an African American man in a public setting. On the surface, this is a typical interaction, the kind that happens daily in urban environments. However, what is significant is how my own body responds to the array of biological stimuli that convert typical to symphonic at the right temporal timing, the core of multi-layered meta-awareness. Immediately, upon perceiving the situation, my biological responses begin to register. These responses, often visceral, deeply felt in the body before any conscious thought emerges, trigger an anti-authoritarian reflex. This is not intellectualized; it is a reaction, an instinctual urge to challenge authority when I witness what I perceive as an imbalance of power or an unjust interaction beneath the horizon of conscious articulation that on the surface, just looks like a guy, in this case me, casually walking by.

The biological impulse to defend the perceived oppressed, in this case the African American man, manifests almost immediately in my body. It is the activation of a fight-or-flight response, an ancient evolutionary mechanism designed to prepare us for immediate action in situations where survival or social justice is in question. The emotional instinct, an almost involuntary sympathy for the oppressed, flows through me. There is an urge to step in, to somehow intervene in the perceived injustice.

However, upon closer examination, I notice the second wave of biological response triggered by the unfolding scene. The African American man, although clearly restrained and handcuffed, exhibits a form of confrontational defiance toward the officers. He taunts, provokes, and attempts to assert himself in the face of authority. At this point, my biology shifts subtly like a string of piano notes cascading from high to low and low to high interesecting thunderous yet subtle raindrops. The initial anti-authoritarian instinct is now tempered by another biological response, a defensive reaction toward the police officers. Here, my sense of empathy oscillates between two impulses, two mediational points inside the greater theatre of my own self-observation, both neutralizing and activating my desire to protect, defend, aggress, discern... Observe. The evolutionary tendency to protect the underdog collides with a biological readiness to defend the social order, the officers in this case, who are part of a law enforcement system that I simultaneously respect and see the weaknesses of and thus am vigilant of all mediums of how my communication could play out here.

This conflict between impulses is not purely cognitive, it is biological in nature, a direct consequence of the various instincts that we inherit from evolutionary pressures, my surge of my gut tempered by the slow hum of my heart that's sultaneously grounded in the desire for love. On some level, I understand cognitively that the antagonism I feel toward the officers is irrational, that the confrontation between an already restrained man and those who hold the power is likely to lead nowhere constructive. And yet, my biology resists this understanding; it is not enough for the higher cognitive centers to override the biological impulses that exist within me. They are primed to protect, and the biology doesn’t differentiate between context, it only responds to perceived threats and the balance of power.

Now, what is fascinating is the level of awareness I am able to bring to these biological shifts. The very act of observing myself in real-time, monitoring how my own biology responds to this external event, provides rich insights into the evolutionary underpinnings of how I experience not only human sentience but the consciousness experience of meta-awareness altogether in expression through sentience; where am I on its universal spectrum and isn't it beautiful that this seemingly anti-fragile experience in the trivial can be simultaneously experienced with the innocent naivety of wondering about where my experience lands on this sentient spectrum? I am keenly aware of my body's reactions, the untouchable stretches of my consciousness within the safe limits of human experience,  watching for subtle nuances that reveal the deeper evolutionary currents that govern what we myopically contain with categories like... feelings and thoughts. This level of meta-awareness of biological processes, the awareness of my own bodily response to the social dynamic, enables me to step outside of myself to a degree that I suppose many would find difficult to see beyond the denial and subsequent dissonance of doing so to the point where it's counterpoints results in parameters that open up a new consciousness bandwidth for them to explore and self-realise themselves through . I am no longer simply acting on impulses; I am observing the impulses in meta-temporal "human time", analyzing their origins, and dissecting their evolutionarily grounded nature, observing all of us simultaneously creating our avatars through our consciousnesses and evolving simultaneously with those changes in real time.

Continuing my observation, the tension becomes even more palpable. The African American man, having been physically subdued, continues his verbal defiance. The police officers, at this point, remain remarkably controlled at different indices of personal dignity, their expressions betraying traces of annoyance and frustration, subtle shame to dissociation mediated though through hours of trained process. I can sense the power dynamics at play, how the officers, despite their physical control over the situation, are being subtly humiliated by the man’s taunts which makes me want to contain the African American, I notice a meta-simulation of how I might do so accordingly coupled with the bewilderment of imagining the police officers reactions to my doing so. There is something subversive in his actions, a challenge to their authority, even if he is now completely incapacitated, there is freedom in his desire to be aggressed upon further that he can manipulate in future interactions where he courts his own delusional defense.

At this moment, I notice a subtle shift in my perception. The biological readiness to defend the officers, which had previously been tempered by a deep compassion for the African American man’s perceived plight, is now accompanied by an even more complex feeling, an almost psychological detachment, a growing sense that the situation is less about the individuals and more about the wider systems of power they represent as manifestations within this universal time lock that separates us from every other temporal lock on the earth at this moment, this... We share uniquely together. As my biology continues to shift, I begin to further observe the subtlety in the interactions. The subtle cues in the body language of the officers, the way they position themselves, the slight changes in their facial expressions as they handle the man, even the way they speak to each other provide me with valuable insights into how dominance, submission, and social hierarchy play out in these moments of high tension.

The deeper I watch, the more I begin to see the interplay of complex evolutionary dynamics, and the deeper meta-questions that surface beneath my cells synchronistic concert of self-observational activity that's somehow, a double sided gun. On a biological level, the entire scene is a microcosm of the battle for dominance that occurs in many social interactions, in many areas of my consciousness. The aggression exhibited by the African American man is the expression of a threat to the social order, while the officers’ restrained control is the manifestation of their dominance, and their external dynamics and my watching, an analogy for how I linguistically now describe how the vying for dominance inside my consciousness hierarchy plays out between my internal processes. My own body oscillating between sympathy for the underdog or in part, underdogs, and support for the social order, trying to reconcile these conflicting impulses through a cognitive awareness that allows me to disarm some of the emotional charge of the moment.

As the interaction unfolds and the officers begin to move on, I continue to monitor my own biological responses. Simultaneously, my body is primed to be confrontational toward the officers, a protective impulse triggered by the anti-authoritarian stance I take toward any perceived abuse of power. However again, curiously, I also find myself instinctively sympathizing with them, a biological reaction I cannot entirely suppress. I exchange a simple gesture as one police officer walks past me after I had situated myself already only meters away, an expression of mutual recognition, an acknowledgment of the shared social dynamics that exist between us despite the tensions of the situation, for whatever reason they welcomed my close proximity in spite of my own internal conflict that was barely externally visible.

This moment, which appears to be a trivial social exchange, is, in reality, a complex interplay of biological drives and evolutionary instincts across all of us. My awareness of these drives, my ability to observe them as they unfold, places me at a unique vantage point not just on the interaction, but from the projected future looking back from multiple reference frames for how it could have played out compared to if I had of just continued walking onwards without the unique interplay of emotions to sort through in understanding my responses through the night of the interaction. By monitoring my own responses, I gain insight into the deeper forces at work, forces that shape how we not only perceive others and how we react to authority, but also how sub-drived like the biological imperative to protect, defend, or challenge is expressed through our sentient awareness juxtaposed with this not only being a shared disposition but one that you may also have conflict with at the same time if it played out that those that were paid to serve and protect for example, went up against a citizen that felt the same consciousness reward but by his own volition against one or more of them.

In this way, the seemingly simple act of observing my own biological responses in this social situation becomes a profound exercise in meta-awareness so much that it becomes skin to the ecstatic rise I feel when improvising on the piano across many scales of emotional juxtapositions, revealing the underlying evolutionary architecture that defines the very nature of human interaction and the complexity of moral and social judgments where sound meets emotional symphony and meta-awareness, the simultaneous navigation and creation of meta-causation where subtext, becomes the entire plot of the story.

The surf continues... but the ride is just beginning...

 

Hoping everyone is enjoying their Christmas Break 🎄 🌏!

 

 

Edited 13 hours ago by Letho