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Perception - Blog Posts
Come love, make me better than I was.
Come teach me a kinder way to say my own name.
— Andrea Gibson, from “Good Light,” Lord of the Butterflies
i’m beginning to question people’s perception of me. it sucks that i can’t know for sure. all i have to rely on is actions and what they tell me. who knows if it’s true?
plopped into cool water, my manus flattens against the stone below as a bowl upturns like a dome above.
my marble eyes ring with the warning of moonlight, my skin glistens, slick with sage-
i peer at my greenhouse, pads reaching to press the convex glass, curiosity caressing my face-
but comfort follows me beneath the water, serenity tying me back to stone.
then steam clouds the cage; lids close off sight, then sound- suddenly, silenced, i muster one last croak. poetrycommunity
death by comfort // the boiling frog
I have given up on everything except the believe, in thyself as if am anything special
there is beauty in building up something, love in watching it grow, Satisfaction when it stands and experience when by fate it fails.
THEY SAY THAT the weak have no right to say no but, who affirms that there yes is not a NO ?
fate again.
The heart goes cold.
The heart grows old.
The repetition of moments be it trembling or joyous.
The heart loses it all in the end.
art by @kmcvisuals
Some say hope is a good thing, others all heartedly warn us against it. Country men , isn’t that life? that what frees some enslaves others and completely dismantles them out of existence.
art by @kmcvisuals
Some are young rocks, arrows, spears, barrettes and jackhammers cant penetrate throw them. Opposite, lies the intricates the roses of this world the fragiles. For people like these it needs not much, a word, a gaze or silence and everything is shuttered.
He felt like a pigeon unknown to him the time the cage could open up.
It did petrify him though,
that if he didn’t realize that it was his life he was consuming,
all possibilities pointed to a destruction of himself in search for an escape.
In this decorated room, my soul murmurs a prayer that at least this time, this manufactured happiness can last more than just a nights sleep and that I can forget all of myself without coming back the next day for another glassed antidote.
Every single person you know or who knows you has a different perception of you in their head, so no matter how hard you try to be perceived a certain way, not everyone will view you as such.
*So why not be the version of you that soul's always wanted you to be ?*🌸☘️
In many ways, scientific analyses of consciousness suffer from the same limitations and constraints as cosmological theories: right right at the outset, certain manipulations and observations cannot be carried out.
Retracing
The Nature of Reality: Exploring Consciousness, Perception, and Individual Worlds
Bashar has already addressed this question, explaining that everything we encounter is an intricate pattern of another being. In essence, we interact with patterns that are replicas of these beings. Since each individual exists within their own unique reality, creating their experiences by referencing others, even encounters with the same entity can lead to completely different stories, nuances, and actual events. This phenomenon is particularly evident in higher-density interactions, such as contacts with extraterrestrial beings. For instance, two people might be in the same place at the same time, yet report entirely different contact experiences.
My understanding of this concept is as follows: other consciousnesses exist, each experiencing their own worlds. Our Higher Self references these other worlds precisely according to our pre-incarnational intentions, thus creating our individual realities. These referencing processes are mutual; however, each person's reality is unique, resulting in similarities that are infinitely varied. For example, the world experienced by the person next to you might be set years in the past or future, or that person might not even exist in your reality.
This concept can be directly understood and applied through Neville Goddard's method of revision. For instance, you can alter someone's age, redefine your relationship with them, or change your shared history. This serves as compelling evidence that we are not sharing a common reality but rather referencing our own individual worlds in similar ways.
Moreover, when asked about the conspiracies currently unfolding on Earth, Bashar responded, "I'm not seeing what you're seeing. That doesn't happen in my world." This suggests that while Bashar's Earth may resemble our own in history and current events, it is, from the perspective of his people (the Essassani), a different world altogether.
The Lottery
I was never too fond of happily-ever-afters, and as I got older and learned how fictitious they were I became more annoyed by them as I felt, and feel, that they present a falseness that others allow themselves to remain within at the cost of others. But before the true fairy-tales of Cinderella or the Pillowman, the first story is Shirley Jackson’s “The Lottery”.
This story brings us more into a different perspective than most, like Samuel Jackson’s character in Unbreakable. We start off just seeing a small town coming together for this very important event, how this is an important event in this town and others big and small. While we don’t know what the event is and an entire town meeting ina square seems odd to us now, we know it used to happen and draw connections to how the children act the adults’ gossip, and the changing of the event over time. As the story continues, an undertone becomes more prevalent, young men are just starting to draw for their families, and a woman mentions about how fast time goes by, using the event as a marker and how some towns don’t participate at all.
What I love about this story is how much our perception changes as we learn more. We enter the story neutrally, then get excited and then try to hold onto that as we learn more. True artistry here comes from being able to challenge, surprise and have your reader’s perception and world be altered; and it is all down here.
The Lottery:
http://sites.middlebury.edu/individualandthesociety/files/2010/09/jackson_lottery.pdf
всё зависит от тебя
идя по дороге в дождливый и пасмурный день с любимой музыкой в наушниках, по неволе смотришь на других людей. старики нянчатся с внуками в колясках, дети, возвращающиеся из школ, бурно что-то обсуждают, подросток с хмурым, подобно погоде лицом, идёт с сигаретой в зубах, наверное, думает о чем-то очень серьезном.
кому знать, что у них сейчас в голове, о чем они переживают? каждый живёт только своей жизнью, у каждого свои проблемы и радости. нас тут миллиарды людей, на этой планете. стоит только задуматься, сколько же тогда мыслей у нас всех вместе, что вот уже мурашки по коже бегут.
а этот, например, ребёнок, который проходит возле тебя и улыбается, глядя на тебя так добро и чисто, он настолько о беззаботен и чист, словно пустая банка, заполняющаяся мыслями, эмоциями. ты даёшь ему одну бумажку, записку с посланием во взгляде.
может, это прозвучит глупо, но я скажу. многое зависит от тебя. и если ты сейчас так безгранично счастлив со своими друзьями, второй половинкой, знай, есть тот, кого грызёт одиночество и тоска, кто совсем уже потерял смысл жить. если ты когда-нибудь увидишь такого человека, не проходи мимо и подели с ним свою радость и разбавь тем самым его банку полную разочарований одной своей. самой маленькой, но самой жизнерадостной.
Imagination may lead us along a path of dreams and associations, transforming our thoughts in response to some perception; or it may focus on the presented object, transforming our perception in response to our thoughts. Just where wine is situated between these two exercises of our imaginative powers is one of the deep questions that all winos must ask, if they are to understand their dear companion. Is wine like daydreams or like art? Does it point inwards to our subjective impressions and memories, or outwards to the world – bringing order as Tintoretto, Wordsworth or Mozart brought order, by reshaping the objects of our perception?
R. Scruton, I drink, therefore I am
Chopin, Bach used human speech ‘cues’ to express emotion in music
Music has long been described, anecdotally, as a universal language.
This may not be entirely true, but we’re one step closer to understanding why humans are so deeply affected by certain melodies and modes.
A team of McMaster researchers has discovered that renowned European composers Frédéric Chopin and Johann Sebastian Bach used everyday speech “cues” to convey emotion in some of their most famous compositions. Their findings were recently published in Frontiers of Psychology: Cognition.
Their research stemmed from an interest in human speech perception — the notion that “happy speech” for humans tends to be higher in pitch and faster in timing, while “sad speech” is lower and slower.
These same patterns are reflected in the delicate nuances of Chopin and Bach’s music, the McMaster team found.
To borrow from Canadian singer-songwriter Feist, we “feel it all” because the music features a very familiar cadence or rhythmic flow. It’s speaking to us in a language we understand.
“If you ask people why they listen to music, more often than not, they’ll talk about a strong emotional connection,” says Michael Schutz, director of McMaster’s MAPLE (Music, Acoustics, Perception & LEarning) Lab, and an associate professor of music cognition and percussion.
“What we found was, I believe, new evidence that individual composers tend to use cues in their music paralleling the use of these cues in emotional speech.” For example, major key or “happy” pieces are higher and faster than minor key or “sad” pieces.
The team also discovered that Bach and Chopin appear to “trade-off” their use of cues within the examined music.
Sets with larger pitch differences between major and minor key pieces had smaller timing differences, and vice versa. This may reflect efforts to balance the cues to avoid sounding trite, Schutz explains.
Schutz and Matthew Poon, a Music alumnus from the Class of 2012, began analyzing a complete body or “corpus” of three 24-piece sets by Chopin and Bach several years ago, as part of an Undergraduate Student Research Award (USRA) project. Poon is now a graduate student at the University of Toronto.
The pair analyzed all 48 preludes and fugues from J.S. Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier (Book 1); as well as all 24 of Chopin’s Preludes (Op. 28). The pieces were chosen based on their historical significance and enduring popularity amongst performers, educators and audiences.
In order to ensure the tonal areas of each composition stayed in their stated keys, analysis was confined to the first eight complete measures — excluding pick-ups — from each of the 72 pieces.
Previous research on musical emotion has often involved manipulating existing melodies and compositions, Schutz explains. For example, transposing a melody higher or playing a song slower than written, in order to explore changes in emotional responses.
The McMaster-led study built upon that work by exploring how Bach and Chopin used emotional cues in their actual work — music still performed and enjoyed on a regular basis, hundreds of years after it was composed.
Can the same research be applied to modern pop music? Schutz says yes, although it’s much easier to analyze classical music based on the availability of sheet music and detailed notation, he offers.
“The human mind is only capable of absorbing a few things at a time. […] We observe a fraction of the process, like hearing the vibration of a single string in an orchestra of supergiants. We know, but cannot grasp, that above and below, beyond the limits of perception or imagination, thousands and millions of simultaneous transformations are at work, interlinked like a musical score by mathematical counterpoint. It has been described as a symphony in geometry, but we lack the ears to hear it.”
— Stanisław Lem, Solaris
Like for real…😭
(Small rant below…)
I know we have the DSM-5 (which, apparently, is generally more accurate than the ICD) but I feel like bias, perception, and even pharmaceutical companies have big influence on diagnosis (and possibly even what is put in these diagnostic tools).
The things I previously listed in pink (and influence plus inaccurate/false information for big corporate money reasons) don’t help out with misdiagnosis and such.
But in saying that, we DO have the DSM-5 for a reason, so like, maybe look in it instead of basing these solely off perception.😭
it’s weird to think how many mental disorders are diagnosed less by what the person actually does and more by how others respond to that person. like how in hysterionic personality disorder (off to a great start) a literal diagnostic criteria is the person’s emotions don’t seem convincing, which is obviously going to depend hugely upon a doctor’s personal bias. and in bpd, though it isn’t a criteria, you hear about clinicians diagnosing people based on the “meat grinder sensation” (feeling like their own insides are being ground up while talking to their patient), and with autism based on the “wall of glass phenomenon” (feeling like there is a barrier in reaching the person). they’re such weird ways to talk about people especially when the clinician’s own biases are rarely taken into account.
>bored from indulging in the deeper ends of the magic system I am making
>Why not experiment with something more simpler?
>make a rough new system and wrote a POC around it.
>Reread just for fun... It follows a hard magic system...
Fuck...
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Welp, here's what I wrote... If you are reading anything below this point then know that I wank a lot of words. You are warned.
Oh and it's intended to be the first chapter of sorts...
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Maya closed the old worn tomb on her lap, 'Basics of herb mixing' - Soul Herbologist, Stevle. Maya sighed... Not at exhausting the last book from the tiny orphanage library... Maybe a bit from the endless puns the author sneaked into the entire lexicon... but more at the boring enlightenment spark she had finally observed last night... Maya stood up to return the book, It was a short way to the library, just a flight of stairs above from her room infact.
Maya walked the wooden creeks of her corridor, that she had haunted like a greedy serpentine gremlin for all of her whole 16 years of life, she had lived in the orphanage... She passed the wooden board from which she often took jobs... Or more specifically the various jobs that she would come to find specialization in... ofcourse! All due to the also boring soul trait she had... which she had proudly isolated when she was 12 years old! But as soon as Maya had done scanning through all available documentation of her soul trait in the measly library and the warden's head... Words could not define how bummed out she was...
Maya's soul trait was... 'trait-less', a simple soul trait, she cursed her own internal language for the trait-lessness of her soul... Her greed for cool shit had seeped into all of the neural netwoking she had aquired in her life... If everything she learns becomes clearly defined and outlined by study... Her venomous fantasy was never satiated... She had fimiliarised herself with every label she was acquainted with... Defining all words that helped one simulate the world in a more comminucatable objective fashion... It wasn't surprising that her neural network was quirkless... Why would her soul trait be anything other than... Trait-less.
Soul traits are what allows soul spiritualists to manifest metaphysical arcane abilities into reality. Every being has one... It's an emergent behaviour inherent to all intelligent beings.
Simpler soul traits form because the wielders inherently have less bias in their language... Therefore making scientific methodology a very synergetic life path the practitioner walked on.
But Maya? She had the simplest... The simplest in all of Permutation the universe allowed... And the same? was her undoing. Maya was never going to have a manifestable arcane ability due to the trait-lessness of her soul... Let alone the cool shit she always dreamed about...
It was a long way to the library, Maya recalled the many jobs she took from the board. It was necessary for everyone who had isolated their soul trait in the orphanage, to contribute to the orphanage.
But that wasn't why Maya took those many jobs... It was either to keep her pockets flowing... or otherwise to indulge in her never-ending quest to find and possibly unlock cool shit... She collected rare herbs, she had once helped a craftsman to make the design blueprint model of his soul puppet more ergonomic, despite her extremely limited expertise in the subject... She even helped a zoologist identify a specific hare he wanted to study! that could hop for a larger distance because it had a unique epigenetic expression... Sad and truly boring old times... But Maya smirked nonetheless... It was fun.
Maya turned the book in, to the librarian's trained hands, waving her a final, still smug, sayonara. She had already packed her things, which wasn't much to begin with... All practical stuff for travelling and some tools she knew would need, the small marsh green travel sack waited outside the warden's room.
Maya walked into the warden's room. The warden eyed her through his old dotting glasses, oddly sharp for the otherwise wrinkled skin behind it. "hmm... hmm... Are you sure about this dear Maya?", Zanish asked, The old bag of bones clutching her letter, that advocated that the holder has isolated their soul trait and has observed an enlightenment spark, everything needed to persue soul spiritualism.
"Why... Why Creed of Thought?”, the old warden asked, knowing that unorthodox academy was a hassle, for all its students.
Maya smirked, "Yes, Mr. Zanish", she replied. "I am certain that it is the best for me... You know me already, don't you?", she said with thick pretentious posh oozing from her tongue.
Zanish nodded, "yes yes... another hustler added to the Labrinth of hustling, They will let you in... It's not like they stop anyone anyway."
Maya giggled at the old man's habit of repeating the first word of his speech... She wasn't sure if she would miss him, but... it was always fun whenever she was caught sneaking out of her room after the 14th out of 16 fractions of the day.
Zanish signed the document hesitantly, Creed of Thoughts was an academy that didn't teach... Atleast in term of orthodox education... They merely traded resources for information. All promising soul spiritualists would trade by showcasing their, any and all, acquired synergy between their soul trait and enlightenment spark... for credits. Credits that the Creed awarded for getting to document that emergent synergetic behaviour showcased, they would award more for any questions they ask, ofcourse.
And it is these credits that were used to exchange resources, that the Creed traded. Money, textbooks, research material, arcane tools, a lecture on a topic of interest, physical demonstration, beast essence, usage of the many workshops and its facilities, herbs and much more! You name it! For the right credit? They trade it! Some even got a chance to enter the whispy archive of dreams, just for a limited period ofcourse.
It didn't matter that the Creed was originally formed by a malevolent faction... Their system for education was fair, that is all that mattered. The begrudging Benevolent Factions never got any excuse to scrutinise them... For the academy itself wasn't making any combat force for itself like every other faction was...
But the biggest problem for Maya, in Zanish's perspective, was that she had observed the Whispers of the Void as her enlightenment spark... The slowest of all enlightenment sparks.
Enlightenment spark is a signal observed by a being in their neural circuitry... The specific conditions that triggered the spark, basically a matching of a neural signal to a perfected contradiction-less neural circuitry called 'enlightenment', was unknown...
Enlightenment spark serves to shape and therefore dictate the how's and why's of one's soul trait is manifested... And the whispers of the void? It had a torturous pace... It requires one to align their neural signalling with the Void itself... The now aligned signals would become the Void's whispers... The whispers broke chunks out of one's soul form and then worked as a solvent to glue the pieces in any Permutation... Repeat the process to ad nauseum, and the soul gets granular and granular each iteration... Basically making one's soul, clay like... which can be molded in any manner...
What this enlightenment spark gave in versatility of manifesting one's soul trait... It also came with the drag of refinement and the inevitable analysis paralysis of doing actual intelligent design without a fixed end shape... The Whispers of the void was well documented! It allowed for a better accuracy of manifestations but it brought nothing unique the other myriad enlightenment sparks synergising with the various soul traits brought.
Zanish also knew Maya's soul trait was traitless... and knowing that brought him the burden of knowledge that Maya wasn't going to manifest anything metaphysical, Period. For there had been no recorded metaphysical arcane abilities acquired by a trait less soul spiritualist, except ofcourse... They were precise with whatever they did.
Precision and efficiency of a trait less soul... Accuracy and versatility from the whispers of the void... That is all Maya had... Oh and also that smug annoying want for the 'cool shit' she had always claimed she was gonna manifest, ringing in the old man's ears since the age her innocence turned into greed... Zanish sighed... The probability of having both a traitless soul and the Whispers of the void enlightenment spark must be the last plack fraction away from zero... For this Permutation has never been documented in all of his old wisdom... No known example for Maya to follow...
Zanish handed the letter to Maya, "here... here... you better don't disappoint me, lad. Or... Or I am gonna punish you next for never breaking any rules this time around", Maya knew he meant that as a challenge, to find an actual manifestable metaphysical arcane ability out of her hand of cards.
Maya pulled her eyelid down and taunted with her tongue out, bleah. Even if this is a good bye, she wasn't not going to be a brat.
Maya took her small travel sack, now resting on her shoulder, as she set off to Yana, where the Mystical Labyrinth of the Creed of Thought slumbered.
The Creed of Thought was carved into the heart of a literal giant, a stone monolith otherwise. Dreaming in its grey granite mass. What made the stone mountain move? all slow in the plains of Yana... going nowhere... No one knew...
Maya caught up to her friend, Rundra. A fluffy dog for a man, tall and lean, yet built like a rectangle, warm yet rigid as the earth beneath him... they were from the same orphanage... Rundra was also a promising soul spiritualists... his soul trait was 'vigor', it gave him irrational will power and a slightly accelerated self healing capacity due to an unique epigenetic expression... he also had glimpsed the enlightenment spark, 'path of indifference'... Maya never figured out why the synergy bummed him... it sounded cool as shit! 'Indifferent Vigor!', A famous previous wielder of both had manifested Weapon Egos into all her blades... its path never bargained with anyone! but Rundra doesn't seem very excited about it...
Maya thinks Rundra decided to start academy because of her... but why did he choose Creed of Thought too? Little did she know it was Zanish that pestered him to go out and experience his life... He chose Creed of Thought simply because Maya was confident it was gonna be a ride.
"hey, ready to leave?", Maya asked
"I would have long been gone if I didn't wait for you to finish the last few pages of that book", Rundra said with a stearn face... but Maya knew he was wagging his imaginary tail already in excitement.
It was going to be a long journey... Longer because Maya was hell bent on hitch hiking her way there... Spending money on travelling a well travelled path? Especially with a lot of traffic? What is this... A scam? Maya grinned, soon she got a lift on an two oxen pulled carriage... The animals looked well worked... Well feed too! looking at the slush it pulled, logged in the carriage... Maybe its epigenetic expression would be worthy of study... Maybe its beastial essence can be extracted?
Maya closed her eyes long after Rundra, the oxen's beast essence wasn't going to offer an epigenetic suggestion for her body to mimic, especially in any kind that would lead to cool shit...
And with that, Maya turned to the brilliant moon, she could swear it was dim before... But it's not long before a snot bubble starts to inflate and deflate from her nose, as Maya drowsed away into sweat slumber.
Wave Riders!!
I will be exploring the consequences of a magic system I previously posted.
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Summary of the said ability,
Short version, Non Euclidian movement by being caught up in a current, like a wave of water, gust of wind or Seismic Vibrations
...
Long verison, Expert Surfers delude themselves into thinking that they don't move on the waves of the water... The surface beneath them itself distorts... Various cureent as if vibrations on still water... They merely predict and maneuver these distortions, choosing to ride the waves that would transport them as desired.
After a key event, Delusion starts leaking into reality, ONLY if the belief isn't contradicted within self...
Stuff happens
Younger generations assume the wind also does the same... And with this idea taking hold... It actually start happening so!!! They experience being moved by the wind itself!! Even on land!
Some even assume their own motion, that is walking or any movement, adds to these distortions... Until they learn to ride their own induced vibrations on the environment around them.
Like leaping further with seismic vibrations from their strides, or turning faster as they now maneuver a gust of wind.
Basically Non Euclidian movement.
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Consequences!
Recognising any type of vibration as a wave means the user is forced to maneuver it... Be it as simple as the rustling of leaves minutely changing...
If they fail to maneuver it, the wave 'splashes' over them... The area of the body that got 'splashed' fails to be recognised by the nervous system... Temporarily ofcourse!
The effect is like a local neural information packet loss... They lose sensation over that area. If the area is big enough... The user experiences motor function loss, like an induced phantom limb... The limb or patch of skin is still there... They just aren't in sync with the users locomotive functions. Causing dissonance.
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After a given time, could be second or minutes, the effected area's neural information 'snaps' back... giving a glitch like effect to the user.
Wave Riders!!!
This is a magic system I thought up today... It's a subset of many such, that I wish to explore in my current just conceptual world
tl;dr - Non Euclidian movement by being caught up in a current, like a wave of water, gust of wind or Seismic Vibrations
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The oceanic people used their surfboard to ride waves, and travel between island
They predict the waves and expertly maneuver them with intention. The experienced folk describe their craft not just as moving on the surface of water... Instead, they say it's as if their position on the surface of water beneath then has shifted...
Imagine standing still, and the oceans itself below your legs... moves!!! And these people have learnt to maneuver its distortions!
This analogy is purely mental... as for now that is.
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A key event happens in the story... After which, it is now possible for one's mental subjective simulations to leak into reality... But only when he truly believes in the idea, and has no contradictions within him for it.
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The newer generation of the oceanic people, hearing legends of such surfboard experts... Claim to have felt as if the wind also influences this movement... Like it's another factor that influences their position in these distorted waters...
Is it a placebo? Is it true but almost negligible? Is it confirmation bias? Or is it the small sample space? Or is this Cherry Picking Data? Hystaria?
Anyway, as the idea spreads and grows more stories, the idea taking root and form, it starts happening.
They slowly start experiencing the wind carry them, start maneuvering it, predicting it, even when not on the surface of water.
...
At some point seismic vibrations too, and tapping of their feet also makes a vibration which they experience. Using it to run faster in large leaps, accelerate faster, turn sharper, dodge instantaneously.
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Adding more with the ocean theme, I can explore their surfboard being riddled with ocean parasites, barnacle layering could be then perceived as a symbol of acknowledgement or idk... Status and experience?
Shells, washed up minerals, opaque or transparent rocks, transparent rocks? What if they make makeshift glasses!!! if the lens have curvature, they might feel their field of view being stretched... Maybe start using them too? Alongside their strides... To leaps even longer?
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So ya, thats it, as for now, I haven't fleshed it out, cause I didnt have much ideas converging or overlapping...
Wave Riders!!!