Autobiographical Reflective Insight Journal: 0 Years to Now

[Origins]

Starting this because I know 99% plus of people here suck, which means I ought to master it and gain the strategic population advantage ?. Muahahahahahaaa.??‍♀️?

I’ll be going through every year ? of my life with as useful set of questions and rubrics I can create which will be shared and free to use at your own discretion.

After I complete my brainstorming ? process on how to navigate this I’ll start releasing content along with the preliminary structure that anyone can begin trialing with themselves as well because of course I’m generous like that, so martyre like ??‍?. 
 

??????

Edited December 12, 2020 by Origins

[Origins]

Okay so looks like I've sucked so far at updating this journal, thanks to an esteemed member (  ) here though I'm now going to pay much more attention to this. I'll have my first response done by the end of today. From here on out I'll do a challenge of including an autobiographical journal here every day until at least the end of next month.

Edited January 10, 2021 by Origins

[Origins]

Day 0-1: Imaginative Exploration - quickly improvised because I promised to write on it 

Here I am

In the hands of a doctor

Who cuts,

My umbilical cord

Mother why so much responsibility here? 

But not enough towards healing your own mind?

Your mind created the most damage

To every husband, child and close friend

As I lay here, now in your arms

Without the ability to speak, and call you a whore (well, here I am right)

My father prevented from seeing me in the hospital causing him much anxiousness,

But when in my presence without reservation, he does not extend his perception to my individual existence beyond his

So to these contradictions, as I lay here in your arms

Too slowly my prefrontal cortex grows, so I can cast you both out of the hospital and send you your fate

Unable to handle the creative life force of life creation

As I crawl, outside these hospital walls, now away from both your arms

The first time, light piercing my eyes, what’s this? My neurons begin to tune my occipital lobe as well as eye rods and cones for the first time

The feeling of touch, a repressed invisible memory that presses against every part of my being especially brain upon recalling

Who is this world, how is this world and what am I?

Bouncing, tapping and sucking toys became something of a higher cause in early life than asking questions for quite some time

Doctor, doctor, looking into my eyes, it’s a boy you say and not cancer for my mother as was mistakenly earlier reported

But I felt like cancer still played an invisible theme in our life growing up

How many babies did you deliver today? And did I not know that thousands more came into that world on this same day?

Knowing I realise now, comes after feeling the world

So how did it become this way that my mind would replace parts of my feeling?

It seems that I, took a wrong turn somewhere, cut from my umbilical cord I did not know of the great and subtle choices I would have to make as I made sense of this world

Carried to the car from the hospital by the safest hands, looked after and cared for with distorted love from one of the least safest minds 

With you I pierce through the scope of your being and surrender all your responsibility, what could you do other than what you knew, but with what you knew why did you not try to know more? This is a question of wills, but more to circumstances that did not navigate the will as it has mine

Responsible I am before life creation, but then as I reflect on my first day wide eyed on earth, perhaps no more life creation at all, from me, as I look out in partial dismay, I must remember to broaden my scope even further and reignite the truth that should be followed, and delivered, like I

Held by the safest hands, now looked after by the safest mind; me

 

Will continue to reflect on this day, it gives me very visceral raw feelings, as for the actual content, of course, perhaps all imaginary, but the feelings themselves regarding the actual day not the noted tangential feelings, certainly have some realness to them beyond mere imagination

P.S - Sometimes I use language I don't actually mean by the way, its just spontaneous expression.

Edited January 13, 2021 by Origins

[Origins]

5-7 years of age - Tap dancing for the dollar, give me love:

Mother, your joy for the arts is what inevitably got me to reflect that passion through my busking (very successfully) at 5-7 years of age on the city streets of Melbourne tap dancing (zero prior experience) after you took me to a show called Tap Dogs. 

What did it feel like though, to beg your son to continue tap dancing so you could take more money from your sons efforts to pay for your bills?

What did it feel like though, to ask one of your close friends that you used as an emotional tampon to manipulate me into those efforts at that age on the second floor of Mc Donald's previously located near the corner of Flinders street and Swanston Street?

Did you not know that I would one day grow older and reflect on the emotional undercurrents of that experience outside the joy of expressing myself on two wood panels with my tireless feet?

Did you not know that I would hold you to the same standard that I hold myself to if I were to ever have a son at that age and needed bills to pay, that I would slit my wrists before I ever asked my son to tap dance to pay your bills? Not only that, to further add to the sickness, my siblings would use $500 of that money I earned to buy a ring for you because we were deluded by your own distorted love you provided us because we didn't have enough contrast on our emotional and general life experiences in the context of what constituted good versus bad parenting.

How is it that I can figure the emotional maturity of what were meant to be my almost 10 year senior brother and sister? Why had they not gathered the perspective necessary yet in their life yet to peel back the layers of your bullshit?

The female antics, your emotionality clouded our reasonable detection.

20 years later, you make a statement to me, "I don't think you like me", mother, I don't think you've reflected on the possibility that all I would need to do is reflect earnestly on my experiences for a mere 5 minutes to make that as an unbreachable concluding statement as the police of my subconscious mind stampeded all honourable perceptions I previously held of you to hold them under parental arrest.

Your kindness mother, albeit good when its angel like nature appeared in the midst of darkness, was implanted with several security cameras around it in lieu of your general lack of responsibility. 

Your love mother, was filled with an earnest hug, a scream though and stampeding footsteps often found themselves in my childhood dreams for no other reason other than to say your love was not great enough.

Your poor choice in husbands mother, simply because they were handsome, dominant and successful, is reflected in the immateriality of your consistency in relationships. You gave them both the sack, and manipulated your children so much that it took them too long that you needed the sack; bound up and constrained by the duckling imprinting phenomenon, eyes unable to see the reality that lived beyond the attachment, as they, watched you manipulate me, calmly, to continue tap dancing for your empty pockets because of how poorly you treated your husbands and they you (consequently in both senses, though the first husband is much kinder than my own father; my father is very generous, of which his kindness surrounds, outside this he's objectively speaking, not the kindest of people outside of his own distorted social reference frames that guide his own self-importance).

 

 

Edited January 13, 2021 by Origins

[Origins]

About 15 years of age - Say it again and I'll turn you into your mother on her period just after a divorce:

Waiting for year 9 science class, not looking forward to sitting down and taking notes for the nth too many times blow my brains out now. I have a crush on my science teacher though, I’ve had a crush on all of my female teachers though in some way.

Sitting against corridor wall with a friend by the class next door I hear something underneath the breath of 25 other students. 

“Have you seen Michael’s dad, he’s so old, he’ll probably die soon.” (you have to keep the context impressed upon your forehead that the goal is to demean, so on top of words you have to add feeling, gestures and social games as well that need to be called out).

Upon looking in the direction of the sounds of potential war I begin to feel my heart rate increase and my eyes narrow in with a psychopathic stare trying to figure out the source. The other guys a part of the group I was relatively good friends with, there was only one possibility. They saw me look in their direction and began to display awkward body language as if they anticipated that I was preparing my body for action. There was only one exception, a spiky haired douche that obviously had problems at home with his own parents in secret, his name was Luke, he continued forward in his condescension towards me in private with the group obviously trying to change their opinion of me not yet noticing their change in body language in response to my own. I abruptly but calmly made my way toward the group, “Luke, hey how are you? Do you have something to say? You know I can hear you over there?”

“No I don’t have anything to say.” His body language now more uncertain while still trying to maintain his frame within the group. 

“Luke I heard you from there, now spit it out. C’mon”.

“Your father’s old.”

“And you said that he was going to die soon didn’t you, and you’re trying to make fun of me aren’t you. C’mon be brave.”

Egging him on now to ensure I avoid having this circumstance come up again by bringing the full monster out of him in this moment right now (own the future sort of thing).

“Yeah his old, you’ve got an old dad it's funny. What are you going to do about it huh?”

With glee, I have my opportunity to make a point.

"Say it again if you've got any nerve whatsoever, but if you do you're not going to like what's coming, that's a warning, but if you've got any balls..." I retort

He did.

I already know what I’m going to do, I don’t want to cause too much pain just embarrass him a little (because I was never into delivering pain, just creating points). I want to reach his neck properly so because his taller I grab him by his body and then rip him to the floor and hold him by the neck in a choke hold I’d learned from too many times playing WWE on Nintendo 64. 

“Take it back. Take it back and I’ll let you go.”

“NO!” He squirms.

“Luke this can be all over in just a second if you just apologise. This is only going to become more desperate for you as I proceed” 

My heart rate remains relatively the same as the initial raise enough to get the job done. I tighten my grip. I’m like a robot with a mission. Dispassionate and purely dutiful in my purpose.

I can feel the pressure rising in his body, his face becoming red, sweat beginning to form on his brow, and I’m not going to lie, although I simultaneously didn’t want to cause him much pain, I was enjoying having power over him.

Two retorts later. He gives in. And just after giving in I allow a friend to pull me off him (he’d already tried several times to no avail).

Luke never said anything towards me again other than polite gestures and neutral behaviour. 

After that played out my crush (teacher) arrived just in time after everything had settled down between us all, her modest beauty and calm eyes bringing greater relaxation to myself and everyone else throughout the lesson. 

I never gave this whole experience much of a second thought until now.

And no, I’m definitely not a psychopath. I can wear the suit though to get a job done when I need to.

[Origins]

About 3-6 years old - stated in such a way as to reflect the sophistication of my thought process, at least as far as I can presently fathom it - the mind of a child, the child mind of an earlier me:

What is this world I exist in? I don’t know much of this world, I don’t know of intelligence, theories, models, I don’t know of other countries much. 

I like eating I know that. When my tummy rumbles, I know it’s time to enjoy food. I like mums casserole so much.

I know I get afraid of the dark sometimes while pretending to fight imaginary monsters, ghosts and spirits when I feel a presence out of the ordinary.

Whats that? Oh it’s my sister saying that I can sleep in her bed because I’m scared and don’t want to be alone.

I wake up and now I’m playing the old Nintendo (prior to Nintendo 64) with my brother, whenever he dies playing Mario brothers he always says “oh just one more go”, his intensity towards the game is odd behaviour to me. He has smelly feet and he leaves his dirty socks around. 

Oh what’s this? This feels smooth, the feeling of smoothness is an interesting feeling. This is a big world I’m a part of.

I wonder if mum will take us to the Dandenong plaza for a swimming day. She keeps threatening not to take us if we’re naughty. My sister and I are distracted flexing our muscles in front of a giant mirror, waiting for our next direction to prepare for what will be a fun day... If there’s not too much yelling. I remember when my mother punched me in the face for losing a few dollars after paying for the movie tickets prior to seeing the film. My nose bled. I hope this doesn’t happen again. Now my sister and I are playing underneath the large dining room table, we’ve turned it into a forte of the sorts with all the different sized pillows and blankets we have, I’m pretending to be a lion and I’m really good at replicating the sound, she’s getting a little scared by how much I’m acting the part and her fear makes me self conscious about my intensity and I change my inner state accordingly. We pretend to be other animals as well. We play chess, she never wins unless I let her and I always feel the need to because I don’t want to lose a chess partner because my elder brother and two sisters never play. They’re too consumed in their own worlds. My older sister though, she’s at least nurturing towards me, she makes me peanut butter and jam sandwiches. I like those. I don’t like the mustard ones though and she sometimes forgets that. Mum wants me to remake her cup of tea because she says that “the tides are out” I’ve learned that means she thinks I didn’t put enough boiling water in, I learned to really perfect this overtime, like I really put a lot of effort into it. We have Friday night movie nights, I hope I don’t have to watch another scary film, that film really scared me. Halloween is only fun for the lollies and the door knocking, not mums choice in film.

Edited January 15, 2021 by Origins

[Origins]

Title: A high school friend - 15 to 19 and beyond

My mind, wearing a disguise so I cannot see that I am colourblind

On the foresight of this moment, as my friend hands me his guitar to keep

Why did I not treasure it, as much as he, treasured to give it to me?

I was never one to merge objects too closely to the heart

Could I go back, I wouldn’t stop playing till the sunset and my friend admired the night sky

Where is he now? What does he do?

I know his profession, it hasn’t been too long since I spoke to him, but what… Does he ‘do’?

Profession is not a description of heart, mind, being nor their patterns of whatever shape of the world they take

This mirror of time now reflecting back to me, as he hands me his guitar

What if I had never broken it out of frustration of my own past?

Would I have chosen to continue to speak to him, for some reason I choose not to even though I have that available to me

I fear, he is lost from my frame, that I am now too out of sync, that he would find it difficult to truly see me, how many are really like me?

Beyond the images of his mind, memories that have made up our time, associational network activated upon first renewed glance of one another

Back at high school, perhaps if I never wore my hair in that stylish way, albeit my own style, we would never have become friends, as that was his entrance into my life, for what else may he have brought up if not that?

Or perhaps, we would never have become friends if I did not become friends with who was his best friend at the time, that became my friend, that when they drew further apart we would draw closer together as best friends united

With our pains of teenage years, confiding in one another’s fears, and each others grandiosity, mine more hidden than his

Now that I see that mirror staring back at me, when we first met, showing me all of our memories right up to this moment including this unifying passage of reflection that I commit myself to here, I realise, every moment we ever shared, created the next, and all of those, this moment now

What comes next?

[Origins]

Title: My first fucking love, 18 years old

Disclaimer: Pretty tired while typing this, challenging myself to catch up on my schedule here

Now a senior, I was once an 18 year old virgin (and you too), that you mistook as a player

Is that what drew you near me, the mere fact that you thought I was a player when I was just trying to get to know you?

You 17, that technically (not really, it depends on the country - just for humor) made me a pedophile

We met at my best friends 18th birthday party, who I did not know you grew up with

What was it, that attracted you to me? For you were the instigator from the outset

Flirting with me, us getting lost on the football oval close by, you taking your high heels off and running around in the sprinklers

Little did I know at the time, that you were not drunk at all, rather you like me, easily became stimulated by only light alcohol consumption

We exchanged numbers, I did not know what I was getting into, little did I know that you were to become my first real girlfriend

We fucked in your bed, one night with my best friend staying over with his girlfriend, I did not know what I was doing I just went for it

We then practiced

Lots

And.. Lots

And.. Lots

Your sexual appetite was greater than mine even though mine is greater than most

We fucked everywhere

On the beach, in the ocean, on a park bench, in cafe toilets, in the car (a lot), a friends bed, and our bed (way too much), couches (I think all of them at home), your father's holiday house, every room in your mother's house except her bedroom

Fucking was pretty much the sum of our relationship

We lived in each others presence, but we did not know enough of our own designs yet to truly understand each other's designs

Still, you understood me, and me you

Why did I sometimes try to make you jealous? Just an 18-19 year old by now still learning about human narratives, how we interact with one another's consciousness

Why did you sometimes lie? Still the same too, not much worse than me and me not much worse in other areas compared to you, still developing your reference frames for conceptualising the space and time of another consciousness, sensitivity to presence beyond presence was not a thing of you yet, and it had not yet occurred to me that this was an aspect of myself that I had, had noticed subconsciously but had little understanding on how to consciously articulate and act on.

(this caused me a lot of problems, to not realise just how sensitive I was at being able to pickup on the subconscious minds of others and just what a unique consciousness experience it brought me and consciousness experience I had in general, simultaneously an advantage depending on how you look at it, disadvantage if you don't even realise you're wielding that attribute around)

This journal is not closed on you beautiful (heart, mind, spirit and body - but you know I'm not superficial ), even though we will never be together again, not because there is no want, rather because there is not enough explorational compatibility (but don't worry I do not underestimate you here, I don't want to psychically upset you, if this is possible), my dear I hope you find (or have found) a person worth keeping though, someone that would value you as much as I would value you, I will always appreciate your abilities and have compassion for where you are weaker, you brought me an unforgettable teenage / young-adulthood experience.

We will speak again, in this journal, this is just the beginning to that, but you and me, have come to an end, and I wish you well in this world, may you make it as bright as you know how ( and I know you know )

My first love, a forever love

Edited January 19, 2021 by Origins