#I know he may not be accurate to how Schizophrenia works

[dabihawksluvr]

Here is Milio and their Schizophrenia Other (Oilim)!

INFO:

He is very much unmedicated, it's a wonder how he stays as stable as he does...and it's also why he is the 'Robin Hood' of the grocery store. You need food/supplies, he will create a distraction and act crazy so you can go around and steal what you need. When he isn't 'helping', he is reading p0rn magazines in the back room.

He is in fact homeless, but he lives inside a magic tent right in the parking lot of the grocery store. He is very happy with his home, he doesn't like normal houses for his own reasons (it's why he rarely ever visits or stays over at anyone's house - he will panic and cause chaos).

He is based off of a guy I met in my dreams - I only 'met' him twice, but he grew up with me so he is immortalized in My Encephalon.

His Other (thankfully?) rarely ever shows up physically, so he's not a huge issue outside of what he does to Milio...if he does show up, that means Oilim really trusts you. And something serious is going on with Milio that he cannot handle.

[the-guilty-writer]

No Matter What

Request (from anon): hiii if its not too much trouble could you do Reid x daughter reader where she had BPD and she has a anger breakdown??

Spencer Reid x daughter!reader

Summary: Spencer helps his daughter with BPD through an anger breakdown.

A/N: Huge thank you to @huffufflejoy for beta/sensitivity reading and advising me on this work. Your help is greatly appreciated! Now for my usual disclaimer before my pieces that heavily involve any neurodivergent topic: I try my best to potray mental illness in the most accurate yet sensitive way possible. Please let me know if you have concerns or issues with my work. It's important to note that everyone experiences mental illness in different ways and this may not be indicative of the experience of everyone with BPD.

CW: Reader has BPD, anger breakdown, talks of schizophrenia, self-loathing, small amount of physical violence, reader is shorter than Spencer

---

Spencer had learned long before you were born that understanding from knowledge and understanding from experiencing were two different things.

No matter how much he had read about schizophrenia, he could never truly understand what his mom was experiencing. No matter how much he'd read about being a dad, it did not prepare him for actually being one. And no matter how many people he talked to, articles he read, or data he went through, he would never truly understand what it was like for you to live with BPD.

At first, his research led him to believe that he might be able to understand some of the experience. After his dad leaving him at such a young age, Elle's resignation, Gideon leaving with nothing but a letter to say goodbye, and Emily's fake death, Spencer always had an underlying concern that the people in his life were going to leave.

But to him it was just that- an underlying concern. Like how he prefered paper over computers, but wasn't paranoid about it like his mother had been during an episode in which she threw the TV out of the house. Or how he might tell someone "My daughter is my whole world", but if he didn't hear from you for a day his whole world didn't seem to fall apart.

Nothing about your experience would ever be comparable to his. All he could do was try to understand.

Spencer had just woken up when he heard the shattering. He got out of bed, trying not to get his limbs tangled in the sheets, but still moving faster than he usually did at 7 AM. When he threw his bedroom door open, he took in the sight before him. His genius brain tryed it's best to calculate what move to make next.

You were standing in the small kitchen, surrounded by pieces of porcelain. White knuckles were threaded through your hair, threatening to pull the strands out by the root. A look of distress was plastered on your face as your chest heaved. Spencer only hoped that he'd gotten here before the anger turned into a blackout.

"(Y/N), Sweetie," Spencer cooed. He walked toward you, careful to avoid the broken bowl. "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay!" Your voice was shrill in your exasperatedly irritable state. "I- I dropped the bowl and it broke, and now I can't make cupcakes for Henry, and I broke the bowl- I'm so sorry-"

Spencer tried to change the subject in an effort to calm you. "You were going to hang out with Henry today?"

"No, of course no. Why else would I be trying to make him cupcakes?" You snarled at your dad with degrading sarcasm. "All my other friends hate me and now he probably will now too and- and the bowl!"

It wasn't an unusual thing for you to say. Keeping surface-level friendships alive could be difficult with BPD. People didn't understand where the swing of emotions came from, and how you couldn't control the things you said when the mental bomb went off. They didn't understand why you would share a hobby with them, and then a week later, drop it completely. Even when you explained BPD, used your coping skills, and tried your hardest, it was difficult just to exist in society.

Henry made it easier. The two of you had been friends since you were small children. He took his time to understand you. He could calm your nerves, help you cope, give you reassurance, set healthy boundaries.

Still, your dad was you favorite person; your safe place. Spencer made you feel secure in a way that no one else could. It didn't matter how high you flew or how hard you fell, he was the constant presence in your life that you needed. That's why the underlying fear of losing him could make you spiral.

"It's broken! It's broken and I'm broken!" The sarcasm slipped away behind your anger.

"You're not broken," Spencer cooed.

"Yes I am!" You screamed at him. Tears of fury streamed down your face. The look in your eyes was enough to tell your dad that you were close to a breakdown, and he couldn't help but look nervously at the shards still littered on the ground.

Spencer took a risk, walking forward. He got to you in three carefully calculated strides.

"Come here," he whispered, though you were only inches apart and his arms were almost all the way around you.

"No, no-" you muttered. Your eyes were shut tight, arms pulled to your chest as if they were a shield over your heart.

Spencer wrapped you in a hug against your wishes, only pulling you tigher when your fists came towards his chest. Your muttering and sobbing and squirming continued as he held you as tightly as he could.

"I love you."

"I'm telling the truth."

"I'm not leaving you."

"You're worthy."

"I will always be here."

Spencer didn't know if the words actually helped, but he liked to think they did. As the pendulum of emotion began to fall and you stopped fighting in his arms, the only sound in the kitchen became the mantras he whispered and your heavy breathing.

"I-I'm sorry, dad," your words were barely desipherable between dry sobs. "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean- I'm so sorry. Please-"

"It's okay." Spencer kept his voice calm, soothing, reassuring. "It's only a bowl."

"I broke it and I got so-" you choked out the words as if saying them was physically painful.

Spencer had to remind himself that it was. Just like the way a panic attack could make someone's heart race or their palms sweat, the humiliation of being unable to control your emotions made your throat close. He wished it didn't.

"It's all my fault- I'm sorry."

Spencer looked down at your puffy face. Your lip trembled with anxiety. Salt stained cheeks rested in his palms. In the glassy look of your eyes he could see his own reflection, his own expression. It matched exactly how he felt; concern for you that came from pure love. He only wished you'd see that there was nothing in this world that could make him leave you willfully. There was nothing in this world that could take that love.

"I promise it's okay," he kept his voice quiet. "Can we clean it up together?"

You nodded.

"I'll be here so you're safe," he reassured you. But it was also for himself.

You nodded again.

"Okay." He gently let go of your face. "Let's clean up."

Together, the two of you carefully swept up the pieces of procelain. It took no more than two minutes to do, but Spencer couldn't help but spew a few interesting facts. They made you feel better, more relaxed.

"In Japan they use a technique called kintsugi to repair pottery," he explained. "Craftsmen take the broken bits and mend them together with gold."

The both of you rose to your feet, you with a broom and Spencer with the dustpan. "It actually makes the object stronger and more beautiful." He disposed of the broken bowl in the trash.

"Is this your way of telling me that every time I break I get stronger and more beuatiful?" you asked. It wasn't snarky or sarcastic- it was exhausted. "Because I don't feel that way."

Your dad took the broom from you, putting it back in the small storage closet. "Not quite," he said, then turned. "Because a lot of people believe the practice rose from the philosophy of wabi-sabi, which encourages people to look for and appreciate imperfection."

You blinked at him. "I'm confused."

He wrapped you in a hug. "It's my way of telling you that I'm not going anywhere. It doesn't matter to me how strong you are or how beautiful you are- how perfect or imperfect. I'm always going to be here, and I'm always going to love you, no matter what."

[ikamigami]

Okay.

Someone needs to say this.

Stop policing what is canon and what is not canon in sams or any of these shows.

If you're not a showrunner your words mean not more or less than anyone else's.

"You can't interpret that piece of dialogue like that cause it's saying this and that and not whatever you're trying to say"

Well, that's not how dialouge (I mean characters' statements) works cause imagine that everyone would take your words as your true opinion on certain matter no matter in what circumstances you said that.

For example: you're very tired and stressed out "I'd gladly kill this stupid neighbour of mine cause they're getting on my nerves" everyone else: "wow.. that person may kill someone better call 911"

How would you like that? Wouldn't it be funny if everyone always thought that you 100% mean your every word?

It would be horrible, wouldn't it?

That's why taking everything, every word at face value it's not always 100% right.

I really hope that some people in this fandom will realise that people can interpret things however they want and others can agree or disagree with whoever they want.

When you're policing the show you're acting like Karen. You're a killjoy. You're ruining fun of being a part of this fandom.

If showrunners felt the need to clarify something they would do that because many authors clarify things when confusion appears. If they're not doing that that means that people can interpret things however they want. Period.

If my words aren't convincing that much to you yet, I'll give an example of the fenomenon that is hugely known in sams fandom.

People claimed that KC loves his sons BM and Eclipse. However his love for them was never that much shown and later he did not only helped to kill one of his kids but he also was very harsh towards his other sons. He later never even called them his sons. And yet it didn't stop people from seeing KC as a dad type.

And this is the best part. No one cares about it. No one cares if it's accurate to canon or not. Probably because it's hugely accepted in the eyes of majority of the fandom.

On the other hand we have other interpretations which aren't popular and majority doesn't agree with them. And yet these not so popular opinions are making people so mad that they start policing what is canon and what isn't canon in the show.

Why? Why are you doing this?

Let people engage with these shows however they want.

But if certain opinions or certain person who states those opinions really gets on your nerves you can always block certain tag or certain person. It's completely okay to do that. And you're definitely feel better after doing so.

Also continuing this hard policing creates toxicity in the fandom. I bet that's not intentional but I want you to know that it may cause more harm than good in the long run.

I'm not only talking about Tumblr part of this fandom but also a part from Discord server.

I saw that someone stopped showing up on Discord server for sams because many people were mean them for being just a little bit odd. They weren't harming anyone with things they were saying and yet people felt the need to act rudely towards them. I felt really sorry for that person. I hope that they're doing okay.

I also stopped showing up on Discord because I felt attacked for having different opinions from majority of fans there.

At the end I'd like to add that many things that are stated in sams are vague and can be interpret differently. For example: Solar once stated that Sun may have schizophrenia. Is this true and canon? Maybe. This statement was vague. And symptoms of schizophrenia don't fit Sun's mental state that much. It's not only my opinion by the way because I've seen other people who also think that Sun doesn't have schizophrenia. But he may still have it. Or he may have something completely different. Who knows?

So does it really matter if people interpret Sun's mental state differently than majority of fans? I don't think so.

Same was with Eclipse. Eclipse's fans kept saying that he actually cares about Lunar and has remorse for his actions. And it actually seems to be true. He seems to regret things he had done. But remember how majority of fans couldn't care less about Eclipse and what Eclipse's fans were saying?

Now we can see that people start to feel sympathy towards Eclipse.

So maybe we shouldn't policing so hard about what is canon and what isn't canon in these shows.

[loudblonde]

Whumptober day 4: The sky isn't red

warning: This is about experiencing rather intrusive hallucinations and how ones reality can be distorted

AN: : these are in fact based on my own experience with stress-related psychosis. This story is not entirely accurate as to what everyone may experience or what life is like for someone with schizophrenia. This is more of a view of what my life was like at the worst point of my active psychosis and how having people around who are understanding and not fearful is a good thing. This is not a story villainising us folk who do have it. All of these experiences, besides the second last hallucination is in fact things I myself have experienced

word count: 2.1 K

(Y/N) looked outside the window and down at the treeline. The black-eyed children were being creepy again though they did just that, being creepy, nothing else. Not like what the younger him had experienced with the ‘Evil man outside’, a rather horrible hallucination that he hated having. He regretted getting into horror stories early on, though who could know that his abuse would lead to a psychic break where he developed psychosis? Not him. Nor his family.

He drummed on the window still before looking up into the sky. Not red. Good. He could manage as long as that did not happen.

With a slight hum he walked downstairs while ignoring the sense of dread kicking at the back of his head. “Keep logical.” He muttered to himself.

“Voices bad again?” John Price, (Y/N)’s father, asked.

(Y/N) shook his head. “The sky isn’t red.”

“Ooo, that is good. I made you breakfast, its in the red sealed container inside the microwave.” Price said.

(Y/N) smiled and picked up the box and sat down. He opened it and looked at eggs and lentils. Safe foods. “Thanks dad.” He said. He poked at the food, exanimating it over and over again. His fork gently pried apart the egg proteins so he could see whether it was really egg or something else.

Feeling satisfied with the initial look he took a test bite. He chewed a bit, then chewed some more and a bit more before swallowing. He smiled. “The eggs are good, dad.” He said.

Price chuckled. “Thanks, I am glad you like them.”

“I like them a lot.” (Y/N) said and kept eating, though every bite held a bit of hesitance as he tasted it all to ensure that it was eggs and not something else. He could only handle so much of his… hallucinations.

(Y/N) parked his bag and got dressed in school uniform. He looked into the mirror as he tied his tie. A sense of dread came from the corner. He just fully turned to the corner and starred. “Will you stop that?” He asked with a low sigh. “I am trying to get ready for school, don’t get me all paranoid already. There is plenty of time in the day.” The darkness seemed to curl just a bit more before seeping away.

He nodded in satisfaction yet again and finished getting ready. He walked downstairs and looked to his dad. “I will text you when I get to school and when I am about to get home and when I get home.” He promised.

Price kissed the top of his son’s head. “Text your aunt as well. She will drop dinner off for you.”

He nodded. “Alright. Mission again?” He asked.

Price nodded. “Unfortunately… but remember, I love you.” He said.

(Y/N) smiled widely.  “Love you too, dad.” He said. He gave his dad one last hug and headed out for the day.

He walked down the road, towards school, humming and ignoring the world around him, that just became a habit, especially when the sky was red. He hated when the sky was red. He shivered just thinking about it, luckily his meds were starving off the worst of the worst. He had taken his meds today, right? Yeah, probably.

He got about halfway to school when he heard something from the forest, he turned and looked, something moved between the trees. His eyes widened slightly. “Nope!” He began walking faster, though not yet running, his mind was running at a thousand miles per hour.

He felt the looming sense of dread behind him, the whispers at the edge of his mind and everything going badly. His nails dug into his palm. He hadn’t recalled them getting to that point. When did his nails grow long? He shook his head and continued to hurry along. He entered the school’s property and looked behind him, into the treeline, the presence loomed there, walking side to side, agitated it hadn’t caught him. He took a deep breath and shook his head before hurrying inside. He texted his dad from the safety of his classroom.

Once the school day was over, which had consisted of very boring lessons with way too many distractions from his various less horrible hallucinations, he stood at the property line of the school, mentally preparing himself to go home. His hands drummed on the gate as his eyes glanced about, taking everything in.

Still no red sky or what followed a red sky.

He took a deep breath and texted both his dad and his aunt that he was leaving school.

It is now or never.

He stepped out of the safety of the school property and felt the presence of the man again, the paranoia inducing evil man outside. The very creature tormenting him and making him question his very own resolve to ignore. His mind was running even faster than earlier as his tiredness from being in school for 8 hours only made everything worse.

He looked around, taking in everything and everyone walking past, half the people, who he wasn’t even sure were actually real, had stuff missing from their faces that made them look anywhere from plain weird to downright horrifying. He shook his head and refocused. Why weren’t his meds working? He was sure he had been taking them.

He headed further and further. He was almost home now, but the man was following him, calling to him and whispering lies in his ear.

He shook his head and kept his eyes forward. None of this was real. Logically he knew that. Logically he was being effected by something not there. Yet it all felt real, far far too real. So real that he was questioning whether this even was false. No! He couldn’t think like that. It would only fuel his mind to make things more believable.

Before he knew it, he was at home, in the safety of his home. He took a deep breath and texted his dad and aunt again. He looked around. He was all alone. Surely there would be some food…. But he wasn’t allowed to have knives. So he couldn’t even make anything unless they had some bread.

He sighed as he resolved to just be hungry until his aunt dropped off food. He sat down and looked at the tv screen, debating whether or not to watch something when he just shrugged and started watching his favourite tv show anyway.

A few hours later his aunt walked in through the front door, he looked over at the food and smiled. “Auntie, auntie!” he stood up and hugged her, she hugged back. “What did you make?”

She chuckled. “I made shepherd’s pie, I know you like it, it should be enough to last you a few days.” She said.

“I can use the microwave to reheat it?” He asked as he took the ovenproof dish from her.

She nodded. “Yes, reheat a portion for 5 to 8 minutes.” She said.

“Thank you, auntie.” He said and gave her a big smile.

She smiled and ruffled his hair. “Alright, alright, I will get out of your hair, just… promise me you will call if things get bad or if you are unsure if something is real or not?”

He nodded. “I promise, auntie.” He said.

She regarded him a moment and then put on a smile for him, she ruffled his hair and left with a feeling of unease.

He put a square of the shepherd’s pie on a plate and picked it part, examining it. Once satisfied he popped it into the microwave.

He glanced about the empty home, despite his father not being home it was still loud as fuck. He tapped his fingers against the kitchen counter, waiting. It would be dark soon. He hated when it got dark.

He sighed and took a deep breath. “Dad, forgive me.” He said before turning on all the lights in the house. The light calmed his nerves just a bit before he grabbed his plate of food. He sat his add down, ate while watching shitty TV and went about his night as usual.

(Y/N) glanced at the clock and shook his head. 1AM. Way too late. He turned the TV off and debated letting all lights stay turned on…. His dad would kill him. Another sigh escaped his lips again as he stood up. He grabbed a knife from the kitchen, one of the big chefs’ knives.

He started turning off all lights, ignoring his own paranoia as much as possible. He ended up in the hallway and had his hand on the switch. The moment the light was turned off he had to dash. His eyes glanced into the unsafe darkness; his mind was already whirling with fear as the hallucinations of monsters from his childhood was getting ready to go after him. He turned the knife in his hand, so that it was pointed down Micheal Myers style.

He turned his body towards the stairs, turned the lights off and bolted upstairs. He could practically feel the claws and beaks snap at his ankles. He fell onto the floor of the upper floor and chuckled to himself. He looked down at the knife and paused. Why was there red on it? He looked down his body and saw his leg had a gash in it. “… dad is going to kill me if that is real���” He stood up slowly, testing his leg. He could feel the burning pain from the cut. “Shit… dad is absolutely going to kill me.” He said as he headed for the bathroom. He washed his leg, applied some medical tape. Now, he knew, from experience, that this was not proper wound care. However, had he taken the bandages needed his father would notice and ask him why.

(Y/N) really didn’t want his father asking why.

He slathered some Vaseline over the wound, cleaned the edges off and applied the medical tape to keep it closed together. Wrapped an old forgotten sports wrap around his thigh and limped to his room. This would be hell to heal.

He sighed as he sat down. He found himself sighing a lot lately. He didn’t even need to look up to know she was there.

“Did you get hurt?” A woman’s voice asked.

He looked up at her, oh how he looked like her, it was painful. Seeing his dead mother, with her throat slit open was always painful. Though he cracked a smile, far far too used to seeing horrors from his psychosis. “We match now.” He said, motioning for his leg.

Her eyes widened as she floated over, her dress was white and her hair floated above her head, he hated the stereotypical ghost his mind made him see. She touched his leg sending a shiver of ice cold dread up through his body, pins and needles gathered where she touched. A wince came through him.

“You know I don’t like your dark humour.” She said.

He sighed. “Mum…”

She shook her head. “Don’t start,”

His mind drifted to when he was younger. The reason he was even fucked in the head, his own words, not spoken around his father or psychologist. His father had been off in the military, someone his unit was after didn’t take too kindly to it, so they targeted every soldier’s family. (Y/N) had seen his own mothers throat being slit open and left for dead while he was tied to a chair unable to do anything but stare at her rotting corpse for 2 days before the school called the police to do a check up on his home.

He hadn’t spoken for a year after that day.

He still hadn’t forgiven his father. No matter how hard he tried.

“… I’m sorry.” He said.

She touched his cheek, numbing his face. “I love you, darling, don’t forget that and don’t listen to the man outside.” She said.

He glanced outside at the shadow figure standing right by his window. He walked over, fueled only by his mother’s presence, he put the curtains for the window and shook his head before sitting down.

“Are you going to tell your dad?” She asked.

He shook his head. “No, why would I?”

She gave him a look. He hated how the hallucination of his mother had the mum look down. It was just as effective as when he was younger. “Muuuum.” He whined and looked away.

She smiled a bit, not that he could see it. “Just tell your dad, he wont be mad.”

“He is going to kill me.” (Y/N) said.

She shook her head, amused. “No, he won’t.” she said and wagged her finger in his face. She pretended to look at a watch on her wrist. “Young man, it is 2 AM!”

He looked back up at the clock and winced. “If you leave, I will sleep.”

She gave him another look. “Better sleep.” She said before fading away.

He laid down, ignoring the scratching under his bed and fell asleep.

[adventuringblind]

The Journal of a Protagonist

I am currently in the process of editing and revising my novel. I’ve decided that is might be fun that instead of posting chapters to the internet, that I would post what I believe the characters would write if they had a journal.

For reference, here is a summary of the novel: In the year 2055, assassins and mercenaries are dominating the work force. Organized by what the world assumes is keeping everything from falling into chaos, has ulterior motives. Already struggling with figuring out how her existence is even possible, Nyx now has to solve the mystery of why the organizations heir is being targeted.

Together with her makeshift family, her possible new friend, and powers she doesn’t fully understand, Nyx aims to bring down the corrupt politicians and possibly herself in the process.

Warnings: this story contains graphic depictions of suicide, abuse, and violence. Some characters suffer from disorders that I do not personally have including DID, Schizophrenia, Kleptomania, and borderline personality disorder, and (not a disorder but still needs to be listed), deafness. I have done extensive research in each disorder including accurate medical terms and stories from others about how their own experiences. Not all depictions may be accurate but please note that each character is unique similar to how everyone’s experience is different no matter what you’re going through.

Please, if you are interested in seeing more, I would love to hear your thoughts! Likes and comments are appreciated but please don’t reblog

I do not give permission to repost anything regarding my ideas for this story. The characters and plot are entirely my own. It’s been years of work so please respect that it should not go anywhere else.

For more see my masterlist

I will post more later, but here is a small snippet on Nyx’s journal.

Dear book of blank pages,

William said I should write to help me understand myself more. Apparently I’m spending to much time trying to figure out my mortality situation and need a new hobby. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to write though.

I know the other’s write, each about different things. Jez writes about his anger with love poems in-between. Klee is always writing notes about her day and likes writing lists. Blythe has been coming with recipes for new ways of getting high and studies about her plants. Osiris writes book reviews in his free time. Then finally Aspen tries to make sure he keeps the line clear between what’s real and what’s not.

I guess all of us need a way to cope. William is doing his best in the circumstances, I’m aware of that, but I don’t understand why I need to find a way to cope other then figuring out how I’m possible. Letting the idea of death consume my thoughts becomes entertainment when one can’t die.

Gene mutations, electric shocks, pure luck, it could be anything really. I shouldn’t be alive. I wasn’t born. And if I’m being honest, I wish it would never would have been happened.

May next time I write I’ll be able to put more of my research down. For now though, I need to go beat Aspen at chess again.

[the-ghost-king]

Schizophrenic Nico, here's why I think it's possible:

I want to start off by saying these are just my thoughts, there is no one way to be schizophrenic or to have schizophrenia. It's also important to note that many of the schizophrenic symptoms overlap with other mental illnesses/nuerodivergences like ADHD, Autism, Depression, and OCD which I know many people who head canon Nico as having. I'm not arguing schizophrenic Nico is more correct, more canon, or more right, but to explain some thoughts on why I think it's possible/very likely he does so I can use this for future reference in various thing.

I am using the term schizophrenia as a catchall for all "types" of schizophrenia, but not for schizoaffective disorder which I would say Nico probably doesn't have.

Children born in the winter/those who were "sickly" as babies are more likely to develop schizophrenia. It may also be possible if your mother was sick while pregnant with you, or having a father who was significantly older when he had you.

A stressful life, especially trauma, are more likely to develop schizophrenia or schizoaffective disorder. It likely has something to do with excessive dopamine production, but it may also have something to do with the same genes that control the sleep-wake cycle. Schizophrenia is more common with other mental illnesses or with other nuerodivergences or developmental delays.

Common symptoms include:

Hallucinations

Delusions

Disorganized thinking

lack of motivation

slow movement

change in sleep patterns

poor grooming or hygiene

changes in body language and emotions

less interest in social activities

Now what does this mean for Nico, and why do I think it's likely he has Schizophrenia?

Let's start with Nico's childhood, "children born in the winter/those who were "sickly" as babies are more likely to develop schizophrenia". Although Rick proposed two birthdays for Nico, the fandom generally accepted the January date more fully. We also know that Nico is described as small when he was younger, smallness is common in children who grow up sickly, but it is also common in children who's mother was ill while pregnant with them. We obviously don't know if Nico was sick as a kid, or if Maria was sick while pregnant with him, but again being born in the winter makes these things more likely, as well as consideration for the time period Nico grew up in and the larger variety of illnesses going around at the time. (He is vaccinated against some things though).

Trauma and Nico... do I really have to go into super detail on this one? He spent his childhood growing up in a fascist country that was extremely racist/anti-Semitic/homophobic/etc, his mom died when he was a child- in front of him, his father intentionally gave him amnesia, his sister died when he was a child, he then proceeded to become homeless living/spending lots of time with Minos who verbally (and possibly physically) abused him, becoming aware of his past memories, becoming aware of the fact that many people hated him because of his father and because they thought he was joining the other side (therefore, he was "bad"), he fought in many battles as a child, fought monsters alone, was often faced with life or death situations, went to Tartarus alone (where the goddess of misery told him he was "perfect"), was trapped in a hostage situation with little/no air for a long time while people debated whether or not to save him, was outed against his will, was freed only to travel again fighting monsters and then win a battle, was eventually made to quest with Apollo despite still having lots of healing to do in ToN. So stressful life? Fuck yeah, that doesn't being to cover it.

Genetic factors, obviously nothing here is confirmed so I'm speculating a little bit again, but the common idea in regards to Hades children through the series is that they are "bad". Mental illnesses have been stigmatized for hundreds, if not thousands of years, and often mentally ill people were made out to be weird/bad/etc. It's more than possible there is some sort of genetic factor taking place, also "having a father who was significantly older when he had you". Although I doubt godly genes work the same as mortal ones (trust me I have lots of thoughts on how god genetics/DNA work, but that's not the point right now), I think Hades being the oldest out of all his brothers and having a reputation for having "questionable" children says something... We have no information on Maria's family history at all.

As for schizophrenia often occurring with other mental illnesses and/or neurodivergences: Nico canonically is implied to have either ADHD and/or Autism, and is canonically stated to have PTSD. I think most people would agree that saying Nico has or has had depression isn't a stretch in the slightest.

So canonically we can all agree Nico has severe trauma and coinciding mental health issues/neurodivergences, so out of 4 possible issues I’ve first presented we guaranteeably have two. If I wanted to stretch this a little I would give myself a half point for him being born in the winter and a half point for the aspect of Hades genetics but I won’t do that.

On top of that schizophrenia usually appears during teenage and young adult years in people who receive diagnosis; most people live with mental illness for a few months or a few years in some cases before they're able to receive a diagnosis. Nico being 15 (16 by the end of ToN/shortly following the end of ToN) is about the age that schizophrenia would start to make an appearance. It's also more likely to be found in men, with men also noticing the appearance of schizophrenia appearing early in their lives, and experiencing more negative symptoms in comparison to the higher commonality of affective symptoms in women. That's a really complicated explanation to basically say there's 3 more things that would make Nico having schizophrenia make more sense.

Alright, let’s go back to the list of symptoms I provided:

Hallucinations

Delusions

Disorganized thinking

lack of motivation

slow movement

change in sleep patterns

poor grooming or hygiene

changes in body language and emotions/behavior

less interest in social activities

Once again, some of these are not solely related to schizophrenia and can be the result of other mental health issues, I’m just going to go down the list and add in some moments from the books in which Nico shows some of these traits/behaviors.

Delusions/Hallucinations (more later)

Our best chances for understanding Nico's thought process is in Blood of Olympus where he has a P.O.V... Sometimes Nico's thoughts do derail, or sometimes they get a little confusing, but not always, and when talking to others he is consistent and aware of what he's saying, as well as blunt. Anything "off" about his thought patterns to me just seems like ADHD..

Dietary changes (whether or not you think he has an eating disorder) are behavioral changes (I personally think Nico has AFRID)

Within House of Hades Nico's poor sleep patterns are constantly referenced, and I'll give him a pass on poor hygiene because he's in the middle of a quest but still..

I have extremely complicated feelings on what Will says here, it's possible Nico is an extremely unreliable narrator (unlikely, it seems many people are bothered by him and only maybe a handful aren't), I've also thought at many points this was Rick trying to backtrack some stuff with Nico because he realized he'd made his story a little too harsh for a kids book, it could also be Will's trauma kicking in and that happening... I'm not counting it as full proof about Nico disliking social interactions, but Nico does try to leave even after this conversation and isn't convinced to stay until the last chapter, so maybe there's something to be said about people's dislike of him for being a Hades kid- but I think it's fair to say Nico also dislikes people at least some because he doesn't have interest in trying to befriend anyone either, and is quick to assume all people dislike him (paranoia/low self esteem/and some other possible stuff). There's lots of discussions to be had about this quote and other similar ones, and I don't think a broad brush approach of "Nico good everyone else bad" is accurate it's more, "Nico is good but he fails to try and you have to work on your own mental health everyone won just go to you, and also people dislike Nico for silly reasons and need to get over themselves and make an effort too". (I'm extremely oversimplifying my thoughts and feelings to keep it brief.)

More on delusions and hallucinations:

Now I want to state that lots of schizophrenia symptoms share a lot of commonalities with ADHD and with depression, so although I might include some moments you think are just ADHD/depression I wouldn’t necessarily disagree with you but they could also be schizophrenia or coexisting mental health issues/divergences. I also went through the DSM-5 for schizophrenia (the DSM-5 is just this big book with lists and it’s how doctors diagnose any mental health issue/divergence), I also looked through the DSM-IV (an older book from before DSM-5 which is no longer really used) and the differences between the diagnosis was fairly minimal but they quit categorizing types of schizophrenia and instead rely more on a couple of word descriptions that seem more in line with a spectrum rather than a checkable box.

In order to receive a schizophrenia diagnosis, two (or more) of the following, each present for a significant portion of time during a 1-month period (or less if successfully treated), and at least one of these symptoms must be (1), (2), or (3):

Delusions

Hallucinations

Disorganized speech (frequent derailment or incoherence)

Grossly disorganized or catatonic behavior

Negative symptoms (i.e., diminished emotional expression or avolition).

It’s important to note that only one of these need to be checked off/true if the patient has voices which narrate their actions/behaviors/thoughts or if the person has more than one voice conversing with each other.

Nico deals with auditory hallucinations (2), he believes the voice belongs to Bob, his titan friend he left in Tartarus:

However this isn’t and immediate diagnosis because Bob’s voice doesn’t talk to another voice(s) in Nico’s head, and we don’t know if Nico has voices running commentary on his behaviors/thoughts.

The reason I state we are unaware if Nico has commentary isn’t because Nico hasn’t said anything, but because many people with schizophrenia before their diagnosis believe the narrative voices are just their thoughts and are a normal internal monologue- usually patients don’t realize anything is wrong until the voices start providing commentary on their actions so instead of “washing the dishes now” the voice(s) might say “wash the dishes now, you’re so lazy you can’t do anything, idiot” during a period of psychosis which may help them acknowledge that the voice(s) isn’t the way most people experience internal voice(s). It is very possible Nico is unaware he is experiencing narrative thoughts and simply assumes that his experience is something most people have, but I won’t use this to argue my point because it’s not confirmation of anything.

Returning now to Bob, Nico knows he is hearing Bob’s voice but he believes Bob is calling to him from Tartarus. Now, Nico says the voices are calling to him from Tartarus but there’s no confirmation of this anywhere… What I think is happening is Nico has a guilty conscience. He feels bad for “using” Bob to get out of Tartarus and various other things, so he feels bad that he is still down there. However, we don’t really know if Bob is calling to him or if Bob is able to do that- what I personally think is happening here is Nico’s brain is convincing Nico that Bob needs him because Nico is upset with himself for not helping Bob more, but also because Nico has never “sat still” before without a quest. Nico has also always felt the want to be needed/important...

It very well could be a delusion.

Schizophrenic patients often experience delusions which make them think they are destined for greatness, or that they have some divine/high force calling out to them for help that only they can provide. It’s an extremely common thing in individuals who experience delusions, and is in fact one of the most common delusions experienced. So although Bob could really be calling out to Nico, I don’t think he is, it doesn’t entirely make sense and there’s lots of little things which point to it being not entirely real- like the fact that nobody else knows about it? Or how absolutely sure Nico is that he need to return to Tartarus? It seems like a mixture of PTSD, delusions, and trauma response (returning to the trauma), working against him. I’ll say delusion is very likely (1).

Using these two factors alone there’s sufficient evidence for diagnosis, but let’s keep going just to see.

For disorganized speech (3) this isn’t something Nico seems to struggle with, and even if he did “derailing” could be ADHD or Autism, so I don’t think this symptom pertains to him.

Changes in behavior (4), seem to all be explainable via depression and/or PTSD- he has begun to express emotion again in Tower of Nero upon learning of Jason’s death he is said to be upset by Will and he walks off to be alone, seems like depression to me. Emotional/Behavior changes from schizophrenia tend to relate more to bipolar disorder rather than a depressive disorder, so I would say if Nico has schizophrenia he probably doesn’t have emotional or behavioral changes from it. If he did he might have some catatonic behavior, but this seems to be clearing up some in Tower of Nero so I’m not super sure on that, maybe during bad periods of psychosis behavioral changes occur, but I would lean more towards this isn’t a symptom Nico personally deals with. Negative symptoms (5) tie into this same idea, it’s possible it’s schizophrenia, but it’s more likely PTSD or depression at work.

So why do I care so much about the possibility of Nico being schizophrenic?

I feel like canonically/fanonically making Nico schizophrenic does a few things, firstly schizophrenic rep in media is extremely extremely awful- can you think off the top of your head of a schizophrenic character who isn't from a horror film/a murder/a villain in their own story? Maybe, but personally I can only think of one which is Charlie from Perks of Being a Wallflower- and even then? That's not canon, it's only implied- and it might not even be true

Schizophrenic media representation always paints schizophrenic people as bad, scary, and evil, and although the horror genre is extremely well known for being super ableist, transphobic, racist, homophobic, and misogynistic (just the final cherry on top) having one of the first- if not the first openly confirmed schizophrenic characters in children's media not only be someone who has lots of character development, and isn't a stereotype, but also be someone people have grown up with, cared for, and sympathized with- would be extremely monumental.

People with schizophrenia and other related disorders aren't something to be scared of or to think of as bad, and often times they're more bothered by whatever they're experiencing than you are.

I don't have schizophrenia or schizoaffective disorder or anything like that, but I have various undiagnosed mental health issues which often lead to me questioning reality, or having to set aside time to convince myself that no there isn't a man living in my wall... Having a character have to question those things, work through those feelings, and learn to trust themselves and care for themselves even with those difficulties would be really great to see in media, not just for people with schizophrenia but also for people with similar/related disorders who might share symptoms see parts of their own struggles in a good, educative way.

I have to finish this in two parts because tumblr keeps breaking because there's too many words in my post lmao (2nd part here)

[longitudinalwaveme]

DC Comics’ Portrayal of Mental Illness

 As you can probably ascertain from the general contents of this blog, I am a huge fan of DC comics (and, more specifically, of the Flash). I am also a psychology major who is on the autism spectrum and has struggled with Social Anxiety Disorder and Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. As such, I have a...complicated relationship with comic books that discuss mental illness. 

Of course, of all the comics that deal with mental illness, Batman is undoubtedly the most prominent, and, as such, is the easiest target for criticism. The more a comic book talks about mental illness, the more opportunities it has to get stuff wrong. Since there are literally thousands of Batman comics out there and I don’t have the time to research them all, I will be using a 2001 Batman guidebook to give you a few examples of the things that it gets wrong about mental health (and psychology in general). 

To start, let’s talk about Arkham Asylum. Not only is its name anachronistic (virtually no mental heath facilities are called asylums anymore), but its depiction usually is as well: even a psychiatric hospital that doubled as a penal facility probably would not be located in an old Gothic-looking building that looks like it came straight out of a horror movie. It’s also worth noting that Arkham Asylum didn’t exist in the Batman mythos prior to 1974, and that originally, Two-Face and the Joker were the only two villains who went there. Prior to that point, everyone, even the Joker, just went to prison when they were caught (which, as we shall see, is actually probably more accurate for everyone except maaaybe modern Two-Face and the Mad Hatter). My suspicion is that it was introduced to capitalize on the popularity of the 1962 novel (and, once it was released, the 1975 movie) One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, which was about a psychiatric institution, but there were probably other factors involved, such as the popularity of works by H.P. Lovecraft (which is where the name Arkham came from). Whatever the reason, though, Arkham Asylum is really only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the misrepresentation of mental illness and mental health in Batman fiction. 

The introduction of Arkham Asylum led, increasingly, to the idea that all Batman villains were mentally ill, which, in turn, led to some...um....very inaccurate portrayals and depictions of what mental illness is and how it works. 

For example, the 2001 guidebook I am using incorrectly describes the Joker as “certifiably psychotic”. He’s not. While there are individual exceptions (we are talking about comic books, after all), in most appearances, the Joker is not psychotic. He has no apparent hallucinations and does not seem to display signs of delusions, either. He is not out of touch with reality in any meaningful way, he’s just horrifically violent. Describing him as “certifiably psychopathic” would have been much more appropriate (although you can’t technically diagnose someone with psychopathy; the condition he would be diagnosed with would be Antisocial Personality Disorder). 

In the same book, Two-Face is described as “schizoid” and “schizophrenic”, both of which are not even remotely correct. What the modern Two-Face is supposed to suffer from is Dissociative Identity Disorder (what used to be called Multiple Personality Disorder), although it’s not always portrayed terribly accurately. Schizoid Personality Disorder is not DID, and it’s not Schizophrenia, either; it’s a personality disorder characterized by a lack of interest in social relationships-basically people who are extreme loners. Similarly, Schizophrenia is not DID. While it is hypothetically possible for the two conditions to be comorbid, they are not at all the same thing. Schizophrenia is a psychotic disorder characterized by delusions and hallucinations, which Two-Face almost never displays in fiction. DID is a dissociative disorder. Most people with DID do not experience delusions or hallucinations; their condition is typified by the presence of more than one personality and is thought to usually only occur as a reaction to severe childhood trauma. (Credit where credit is due: modern Two-Face is correctly shown as having experienced trauma as a child.) The fact that the term schizophrenia literally translates into “split mind” is probably the source of some of this confusion, but with schizophrenia, the split is between the mind and reality, not between the mind and itself. 

Also from this guidebook, the Riddler is, confusingly, described as having “an obsessive-compulsive desire for attention”, which, from a psychological perspective, is pretty much nonsense. Desire for attention is one thing; obsessive-compulsive disorder is another. The “obsessions” in OCD refer to intrusive, recurring thoughts, not to something that a person strongly desires and spends a lot of time pursuing. Additionally, the Riddler is described as “pondering the unsolvable riddle of his own psychosis”, which is not accurate. The Riddler consistently displays signs of Narcissistic Personality Disorder, and less consistently displays signs of OCD, but neither one of these conditions is a psychotic disorder, as neither involves hallucinations or delusions. When the Riddler says he’s not psychotic, and that he’s perfectly sane, he’s completely right on both counts. He’s never displayed any evidence of a break from reality, so he’s not psychotic, and he’s almost always aware that what he’s doing is a crime, so he’s not insane, either. In fact, with the possible exceptions of the Mad Hatter, Man-Bat, and Two-Face, none of the Batman villains are insane, since they are all aware that what they’re doing is illegal when they do it. 

What makes the earlier mistakes in this particular guidebook even more mystifying to me is the fact that their description of Scarecrow, and, more impressively yet, Scarecrow’s fear toxin, is pretty much accurate. They don’t call him psychotic or label him with conditions he doesn’t have and they accurately identify his on-again off-again phobia of bats (Chiropteraphobia). It also describes his fear gas thusly: “a toxic mix of adreno-cortical secretions and strong hallucinogens...it prompts neuromuscular spasms, cardiac arrhythmia, and panic attacks”. This is an astonishingly accurate description of what his fear toxin would need to be made of and what it does to his victims’ bodies. I don’t know who wrote this section, but they deserve some serious credit for doing their homework! (It makes no sense to put the Scarecrow in Arkham. Not only is he neither psychotic nor insane, but putting an evil ex-psychologist in a psychiatric institution is a REALLY bad idea, as he has the know-how to easily manipulate both the doctors and the patients.) 

Also from the 2001 Guidebook: The Ventriloquist is described as having multiple personalities, and is NOT described as schizophrenic or schizoid. While the term Multiple Personality Disorder is no longer used by psychologists for diagnosis, it is at least describing the same condition as DID. Modern Firefly is described as a pyromaniac; this is accurate from what I know of the character. Mr. Zsasz is described as a “sociopath”; again, this is mostly accurate. 

I also decided to use a few other DC guidebooks and see if there were any other egregious mistakes: 

2015 Guidebook:

 Haha, “Lenny Snart”. (That has nothing to do with mental illness, I just thought it was funny.) 

 Dr. Polaris is described as suffering from “a split personality disorder”; they mean DID. It’s also worth noting that most people with DID do not have a “good” alter and an “evil” alter; having DID does not make you Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. 

The Joker is described as “crazy” and “insane”; while the former is up for debate, I can say with confidence that the Joker meets no real-world definition of insanity that I know about. 

Riddler is not described as insane, yay!  

Two-Face is described as having Multiple Personality Disorder; this should be DID but is otherwise broadly correct. That being said, the idea that getting acid thrown in your face would cause you to develop a split personality, as this book seems to imply, is unlikely. DID doesn’t develop that suddenly. 

2016 Guidebook: 

While Doctor Polaris may very well have a personality disorder, the emergence of a second personality would indicate the development of DID, not  a personality disorder. An adult man couldn’t “develop’ a personality disorder anyway; they’re developed in childhood and are usually lifelong afflictions. 

Harley Quinn is a weird case; to call her psychotic isn’t completely inaccurate, as she has displayed signs of hallucinations and delusions in the past. That being said, the way her condition is depicted is inconsistent and confusing, and doesn’t seem to line up perfectly with any actual real-world condition. 

Modern Heat Wave is absolutely a pyromaniac; Johns in particular was surprisingly good at writing a realistic case of the condition. 

The Joker is not insane. Neither is the modern Joker’s daughter. Both understand what they’re doing is wrong. 

Lex Luthor is indeed a sociopath, as is the New 52 version of Mr. Freeze (BTAS Freeze is not). 

Two-Face’s condition should be described as DID, not MPD; otherwise things are about as accurate as one can expect from Two-Face. 

2008 Guidebook:

Calling Abra Kadabra narcissistic is accurate. 

The Black Manta autism thing is icky on multiple levels. Ewww.

The first Cheetah probably would not have suddenly developed a second personality as an adult. 

Dr. Polaris. You know the drill. Split personality should be DID. A “good” and “evil” alter are pretty unlikely. Usually DID would show up before adulthood. 

Firefly and Heat Wave do both seem to have pyromania. It’s also accurate to describe Heat Wave as cryophobic. 

The Joker cannot be “certifiably crazed”; crazed is not an official psychiatric term. And again, he isn’t insane, so he shouldn’t be in Arkham. 

Killer Croc has never displayed any noticeable signs of psychosis. 

Magenta having DID is actually more realistic than most of the other characters I’ve talked about; she’s got the necessary childhood trauma and her alters developed when she was still quite young. Furthermore, her more violent alter isn’t manically evil. 

Whoever wrote the Scarecrow piece in the 2001 Batman Guidebook must’ve also helped to write this one, since the shockingly-accurate fear gas description is the same. 

Professor Strange is not insane in the legal sense of the word. 

Arnold Wesker has DID; MPD is the condition’s original name but is no longer used by professional psychologists. 

Zoom (Hunter Zolomon, not Eobard)... I think there’s an argument to be made that Zolomon actually is psychotic. While he’s never displayed hallucinations, he is clearly delusional in the most literal sense and does seem to have lost touch with reality. As such, this book is not wholly inaccurate in calling him psychotic.

You get the idea....

Looking specifically at the Flash, things improve slightly simply because writers who don’t understand psychology aren’t constantly talking about it. That being said, that doesn’t mean it never gets brought up. 

Golden Glider was intended to receive a psychiatric evaluation in the late 1970s. It’s interesting that she actually protested this, pointing out that the male criminals never received psychological evaluations (and indeed, they always went to prison rather than to an institution). She was indeed motivated by something other than profit, and I can understand why they wanted to have her evaluated given her lack of earlier criminal activity, but I don’t know if she was actually mentally ill per se...and she definitely wasn’t insane. 

In the early 1980s during the twilight hours of Barry Allen’s first run on the Flash, it seemed that the writers were trying to take a page out of Batman’s book by arguing that Barry’s costumed criminals were insane (even though they usually didn’t display any behavior that would indicate this). As such, Barry stated to imply that his Rogues were mentally ill in some fashion despite the fact that their behavior really hadn’t changed appreciably since their earliest appearances. That being said, the Pied Piper did appear to suffer some sort of nervous breakdown during the “Trial of the Flash” arc; what exactly this was is difficult to explain, since we didn’t get to see a whole lot of him after this point, but he did go to an actual psychiatric hospital (that was referred to as such rather than being called an asylum) and he did recover, relapsed, then recovered again, making this one of the more accurate portrayals of how mental illness works despite the limited information we have about his actual condition. They even showed him slowly deteriorating over a period of time before the actual collapse!

Big Sir, who made his debut in the same storyline, was rather more poorly handled....but at least he was explicitly manipulated into villainy rather than becoming evil simply because of his condition. 

Wally West went to therapy early in his run; given the context I’d say it was reasonable that he was suffering from both anxiety and depression (his uncle had just died and he was really struggling to fill his shoes as the new Flash). Going to therapy did actually help him, which was nice to see, and his therapist did not become evil, which was also nice to see. (I’m not going to talk about Heroes in Crisis, as I prefer to pretend that that never happened.) Yay for protagonists discussing their mental health problems in productive ways! 

In the early-to-mid 1990s, Mark Waid wrote a story in which Lisa stated that she’d faked insanity in order to be sent to a psychiatric hospital rather than to prison, but the story seemed to be implying that she was actually insane. Not only is successfully being declared not guilty by reason of insanity incredibly difficult, but Lisa displayed no signs of not recognizing that her behavior was wrong, so she wasn’t insane. She was, however, displaying strong signs of paranoia, which could perhaps be attributed to a paranoid delusion of some sort. It’s especailly weird since this was never really a characteristic of hers before or since, and it just kind of came out of nowhere. 

The Trickster (specifically the first one, James Jesse) is often mistakenly believed to be mentally ill by casual fans. While he is indeed mentally ill, possibly even psychotic, in the DCAU,  and he’s a remorseless psychopath in both live-action Flash shows, in the comics themselves he displays no real signs of mental illness. That being said, I LOVE the interactions between DCAU Wally and DCAU Trickster. They’re made of adorable.

The Pied Piper went through a second bout of mental problems in the mid-to-late 2000s, being tricked into believing that he’d murdered his parents, going to prison, being beaten regularly by the warden, escaping from prison, going through the stress of fighting in the Rogue War, having his mind messed with by the Top, accidentally becoming involved in the murder of Bart Allen (another thing I like to pretend never happened), having to go on the run, watching the Trickster get shot in front of him, having to drag his corpse around a desert, almost dying, getting transported to Apocalypse, blowing it up with Queen music, and then being left basically all alone. He really went through a trauma conga line, so it’s not surprising that he was starting to display some odd behavior. Poor guy probably had PTSD. 

And then there’s the Top. Beyond the speculation of @gorogues that he’s on the autism spectrum (a  theory I find to be quite persuasive), I also think it’s likely that he suffers from another mental illness (most likely bipolar I disorder, also as suggested by @gorogues). He was clearly mentally ill for most of Geoff Johns’ run, and his behavior in his very first appearance was decidedly odd as well. Intense mania and depression can sometimes induce psychosis (as we seemed to see during Geoff Johns’ run), and his “threatening to blow up half the world to become its ruler while I’m somehow safe on the other side of the planet” plan from his first appearance, which he clearly expected to work perfectly, is so overconfident and over-the-top that it fits well as a particularly exaggerated manic episode. While it’s not conclusive by any means, I think it’s a distinct possibility.

[lavenderbexlatte]

Hello!!! Welcome to 🦋 anon's probably-way-too-overthought analysis on the m&m series in light of the new part. I have stopped crying and had about 24 hours to think, and I have discovered I have many thoughts, and this will probably be way more detailed than it should be.

The first thing I would like to address are some of the accusations Chan made at the end of the most recent part. (While I understand that they're supposed to not quite be accurate because of their obvious root in insecurity, and a lot of what I'm saying may just be like "yeah, obviously," I still would like to tell at the character a bit but I can't so this is what I have.)

Claim #1: "You fucking came at us at that party with your little girl-dom agenda and the guys fell for it, hook line sinker!"

This one's fairly self explanatory, no she didn't. They literally came onto her, even him, with his "There’s that pretty blush," and "Whatever you want it to be," lines. (And while yes, it's very likely that he was just trying to play it cool, but there's no way she could've known that, I'll come back to this later.)

Claim #2: "Nobody fucking asked me what I wanted!" "Nobody asked if I was sure that I wanted…"

Also mostly false, but he does have a tiny bit of a point. Yes, reader did grab his hair without asking, which is a little iffy, but she didn't actually rough with him until he goads her on. But I would argue that the reader is actually the ONLY one who asks him what he wants, if he's okay with things. While there may have been a little bit of discussion on the decision to approach the reader that we didn't see because of perspective (him saying this is kind of telling me that there wasn't, or at the very least not enough, maybe even some pressure for this to be the moment), or maybe Changbin said something while reader is with Jisung on the couch, after that, we don't see Jisung and Changbin check in with him at ALL, and there's not really an opportunity any other time for it just not have been noticed by the reader. As his partners, and the ones in the situation who have the full knowledge of Chan's situation, it should've been their responsibility to make sure he was alright throughout the process, even if they're not the ones in control for this situation, ESPECIALLY if they're going to keep this information from their Domme for the night (which really, I would say, wasn't a good idea, but no one is required to out themselves so I'll leave it alone).

HOWEVER, the reader does check with him, several times. She asks for boundaries/hard limits/etc before they even start anything, and while again, he's not required to say "hey, having a sexuality crisis, first time with a girl, kinda nervous," and he may not want to tip off Jisung and Changbin that something's wrong, that would be the time to say something like "I'm not feeling anything rough tonight, if you could be gentler that would be great." She asks them if there's anyone that doesn't actually want to fuck her. Also, she implements a safeword system (which she specifically calls him out to make sure he's okay with), which they weren't even going to USE, and asks them at least twice throughout the scene for their color, and Chan specifically if he's okay at least two more times besides that. Actually Chan almost makes fun of her for asking so many questions, so I think this claim is just another part of his insecurity-fed delusion that she's conspiring to ruin his life, or something, but again I'll come back to that. My point is that despite being the only one who doesn't know his situation, reader is also the only one who checks in with him.

There are a few other things he said that I took issue with, but those are the main two.

Next; Chan's delusion that reader is like conspiring to ruin his life. (Really like how you depicted this by the way, though I may be thinking wayyy too far into this.) I remember watching some video when I had one of my mental health/disorders hyperfixations. The video was about schizophrenia, and while I definitely don't think Chan has schizophrenia, one of the things the video talked about was types of delusions, and this kind of reminded me of one of them. I don't remember what it's called, but it's basically a delusion based around one idea, and then you force the world around you to fit into that idea. One example of this that I can think of is Azula from ATLA. Towards the end of her arc in the TV series, she starts seeing hallucinating her mother everywhere, and you get a peek of her fixed belief that her mother is behind everything that has gone wrong in her life, which is expanded upon a little bit in the books. Obviously Chan's not experiencing delusion to the extent that she did, but I did see some (albeit much less intense) parallels that were interesting. See, if he only talked about how his boyfriends seemed to like the reader more than him, that would be one thing, but he brings up his mother as well, which even though they did speak, it's a little out there to say that your mother likes someone she's talked to once more than you. That, combined with his insisting that the reader is playing some sort of game makes me think of that a little.

Of course this was only at first, when I was like "wtf, where is this 'my boyfriends like you more than me' thing coming from?" And then I reread the first few parts for this monstrosity of an ask that I'm writing rn. While at first I thought that this was entirely out of left field, when I read through the first few parts, especially the second one, with the knowledge that he felt that way, I noticed a few things you had put in there.

For the majority of the scene, or at least the first good chunk, the reader deals with Jisung and Changbin alone, leaving Chan by himself to watch. Obviously, as we see the reader's perspective, we know that it's because she found Chan's attitude intriguing and wanted to be able to deal with that one on one (at least that's what I got from it), it's easy to see now how to someone who's already insecure about their relationship and themselves, that would read as someone replacing you. Especially when Jisung, with no ill intent, but still, outright rejects his help in favour of the reader, and once again, he is left out, only this time it's accompanied with the sting of knowing (or at least feeling) that your partner didn't want you involved.

Now I kinda want to go character by character, and idk, talk about what I think they did wrong? We'll see, I'm not going to edit this so here we go.

Jisung and Changbin : Honestly, looking back on 3racha's first encounter with the reader, they really should have done better as Chan's partners. Like I said earlier, as the ones who knew Chan's situation, and the ones who likely pressured him slightly into he whole ordeal, it was really their responsibility to make sure Chan was okay with everything that was going on. That, and them feeling the need to sneak around with reader behind Chan's back doesn't sit right with me. I get that they have an open relationship, but there's a difference between having an open relationship and hooking up with someone your partner doesn't like, and actively trying to hide that you're hooking up with them. Their relationship boundaries may be fine with that, but idk, something feels off about it.

(I couldn't figure out where to put this and you may have already addressed this but it's my little theory/headcanon that Chan actually suspected it was reader at Jisung's place, and when there wasn't anyone there, he kinda gaslighted himself afterwards, idk. With the new knowledge it feels likely.)

Also, knowing that they were together for a while before Chan joined the relationship I think explains so much about the communication issues they seem to have with him. While I do think Chan has trouble communicating his feelings about things, I think their established communication and knowing eachother really well doesn't help. I may just be making things up at this point, but I feel like they have trouble with communication with Chan specifically, maybe forgetting that he doesn't have the same time/experience thy have with each other? If that makes sense?

Chan : oh boy. I've gone into a lot of detail already, so I'll try to keep this brief. Obviously, I think he has a looooottt of insecurity he needs to work through. If I were reallllyyy analyzing this I would say maybe a past cheating partner(?), but unless that's relevant to the plot I'm not sure if that's just me reading too much into this. Also mentioned before, COMMUNICATION ISSUES. One thing that would prevent half of the issues with this series is Chan communicating with his partners, though I suppose that wouldn't be near as much fun to read. Or just communicating I'm general, like I said, he had a plethora of opportunities to communicate to reader if he wanted something different, and didn't. So, yeah. Honestly I think he causes most of his own problems, but I feel like we knew that.

Reader : Now. I spent most of this series completely on the reader's side. Last night after reading part six, I was like "oh my god. He's right!" But then I took a while and thought a lot about it (as you can see), and honestly, I think reader probably did the least wrong out of everyone. Yes, the hair thing was a little iffy, like I said earlier, but once I went back and realized that he was actively participating and egging her on, I don't think that's necessarily something she did wrong. Beyond that, she did the most in regards of communication (at least during sex, after is another story), even more than the partners themselves. I think she did the best she could with the information that was given to her. She saw three guys approach her as a unit, and while yes, she didn't ask before engaging with Chan, I don't think it's really her fault for assuming that they were all interested as a unit as well. She had no reason to question any of their sexualities, why would she? She sees three partners approach her in unison, why wouldn't she assume they were on the same page? Anyway, all that to say, I think reader is the most innocent of all the main characters so far, though I may feel different after sitting on this for more time.

Anyway, here's this unedited brain dump, loved the new part, enjoy. Or not ig - 🦋

i've been sitting on this for like a week bc it's just so long and amazing??? and i have no idea what to say?? 🥺🥺

the bit about chan having a sort of delusion that reader is out to ruin his life in a pointed, conspired way is VERY interesting. their dynamic is actually something that i pulled from myself, in a way. i'm really superstitious about dumb things. i hate, like, bumping into someone or accidentally saying something that hurts someone's feelings bc i know that that karma/vibe/intention (whatever you wanna call it, i'm not spiritual just paranoid) is gonna come back around.

reader is the opposite. she's just walking around doing things and thinking about herself, and then being shocked when there are equal and opposite reactions to the stuff she does. i overthink everything, so reader doesn't think nearly enough.

but lemme say

that the best thing you said is how jisung and changbin are absolutely not the innocent bystanders that everyone seems to think they are 🤐🤐 most readers LOVE those two. but think about it...what are they trying to accomplish, here? 👀

[jwartblog]

Notes comp...

My brain had suddenly not thought the same way it did, oxygen isn’t getting to it the way it had, blood doesn’t run through it the way it had, it feels like, to a degree, an implosion, not unlike the shift that happens with tectonic plates at the earth’s surface. This means now I can hear my vertebrae at the base of my skull and beneath, the skull cracks at the fissures as if a point of gravity like a warp  is reshaping it. My decision making now is questionable, not criminally questionable, but the decisions I make veer off into peculiar themes, for instance, the whimsy of advertisements. The reactions to them are strong, which may be heightened by a coinciding isolation, all of which could be explained away as neuroses, as so much can be, but the integrity of the diagnosis that that could be is greatly compromised  by  intangibles. I surmise that this has intended to be, for one, a narcissists’ program, in which the language is designed to close off the possibility of social and cognitive maturation. It, instead, endlessly punishes reflection, reason, positive thinking to include any emotional flourishes of joy, exuberance, self-acceptance, an inclination towards the trajectory of all healthy development…It has, I believe destroyed–an embarrassingly easy remedy for all of this notwithstanding–the reward system, an internal resonance for clear thought and careful consideration–qualitative thinking. I can’t wrestle with concepts in the same way I have before. There was a more careful consideration that’s not there anymore, which means the work that I do could suffer for it. The brain is an array of sorts or at least behaves that way, a receiver of input, often vastly ego-centric, easily, near-instantly at the mercy of impulse, which has never quite been that way in adulthood, the way it is now. The formulation of words, increasingly what I would like to articulate comes from an alien place, not that what’s alien has the facility to manage words and construct documents the way I do, but it isn’t concerned with the same things I’m concerned with. What this means is the concern I have for, for example, certain social or creative issues is nearly bankrupt, which means the history of careful, qualitative reasoning and feeling towards those subjects seems gone. This means that that has to be cultivated again, because it necessarily has to be, but it also means a new apprehensiveness towards the retention of new information. Again, a weakening of the faculties, a constructed impairment. This brain, now, acts not unlike a computer server, as if somehow, the neurons were network nodes (not nodes of Ranvier), and all of the sensory duties of the imagining brain were outsourced to a remote terminal. This means, for example, a thought is met with, incorrectly, insufficiently, a thought meant to be thought, perhaps–because functional-integrity is compromised–genuine, is distorted or otherwise presented as if controlled by a foreign catalyst, a facility with thought, with concepts, i.e. design, creative flourishes are intercepted physically, cranially, as much as that can resonate physically, and it’s changed into something that I believe corresponds to what the intruder believes is how a person thinks or means to think. This means that a premium, ironic, considering the possibility that this is of a technological source, is placed on control, not at all on the preservation of thought, or the possibility for general thinking, let alone advanced thought. Whenever an attempt is made to achieve a state of lucidity about the current circumstances, a punishment ensues in the form of blackmail, again social mutilation (anti-social behavior) or some other accusation of criminality or gross immorality. This may be the longest instance of sexual harassment I know in recorded history, as my penis is critiqued multiple times an hour, from flaccid to erect state. It abhors erection, like it’s alien or criminal. All of it is finessed to some degree by an ambiguity, in this case humor amongst other things, the use of interpersonal acrobatics, the continuous promise of a later reward. For instance, one of the things that happens, and this plays off of an already-intrusive guerilla marketing, data-mine marketing (likely a cover for pure harassment), is the establishment of a visual language that always to some degree points to something being advertised, a product you might potentially buy, which on its face is innocuous. But upon closer inspection, it does seem to gain accuracy with each attempt at subverting the feeling of even casual autonomy, any sense of self that comes from personal decision making. What this means is that over time a kind of probabilistic thinking ensues as a reaction to constant probability based harassment(e.g. Probabilistic Psycho-Linguistic Verisimilitude and Infinitesimal Approximations of Neuro-Physiological Reception in Experience Perception. Memory-Thought modulation analysis in the conversion of external stimuli into creative thought and output, partly through continuous tracking of parallel experiential or verisimilarly stimulated brains of a large population sample, and reward system increasingly tailored to positive correlative confirmation signs. Behavioral analysis through the continuous introduction of external and internal stimuli and continuous tracking of subsequent associated epistemological formulations especially in regards to the subsequent introduction of symbolically-associated stimuli, stimuli congruent with particular, personal, accurate or inaccurate epistemological assumptions.). This has the potential to render the target overtly spatially and socially strategic…which can cause irrevocable overt symbolic-interactionism brought on by among other things, helplessness: the methods of harassment are slight and mimic the symptoms of still socially-maligned mental illnesses such as schizophrenia. If you can imagine, an artist, especially one adept at symbols, abstract representation, is made to feel that he or she is responding to what vaguely seems like a phallic or feminine image, and he is, for example, then made to know that he or she is somehow influenced by that prompt to purchase which confirms his or her latent homosexuality, over time this admonishment, necessarily slight, acts as a kind of whip, to which an artist necessarily would respond to with a re-habitual sort of inclination towards the object he wishes to avoid, however ambivalent he might be. Over time the whip makes the artist, like Pavlov’s oft mentioned canines, salivate at the ‘sound of a bell,’ i.e. whip. This kind of harassment I think maybe tends to coincide with what would be a delicate time for an artist, or anybody, especially an inwardly focused artist or person, transgression bound, piqued by curious psychological phenomena, bouts of clairvoyance, synchronistic peculiarities, a lot to navigate through without the addition of systematic, injurious harassment. If for instance it can be said that a person who constructs by some act of fate, his own clairvoyance, a streak of running into exactly what’s foreshadowed as a relational need or otherwise a break from an ideal state, is monitored by someone from an objective point of view who has knowledge of human behavior and the journey of humans, artists, he could potentially be subject to this knowledge, general knowledge, the artists’ knowledge, what the monitor knows the artist knows, what he knows many don’t know about these phenomena, the limits of their efforts to remedy the issue, to include among other things what would be professionally or socially unhygienic to pursue, and particular knowledge of marketing or other forms of harassment to cause irrevocable psychological damage. It keeps a record like a fingerprint for every instant of short and long term audio memory, neuro-instantaneous-configuration, and also manipulation at the cochlear nerves, perhaps induced neuron degradation aided by an overly nitrogen-rich diet that allows sounds to be affected. Either neuron or nerve frequencies are altered to match incoming frequencies, pressure disturbances that create sound. That means that as fast as the speed of sound, an incoming signal is intercepted before a conscious sensation of hearing can be registered. Also communication from preparatory (internal) speech center can be altered to fit incoming signal, or to conform incoming signal to preparatory (internal) speech (i.e. Attempts to further resolve name to voice, signal to name, voice/signal to image...performs as if it may not have specific local knowledge of content, but effects of it, how a datum associates with another datum (e.g. what regional voice and statement placates, even if the value of a statement or effect is unknown--how that's measured, how it's configured, what it means against other data, for instance, if a communal-neuro-topographical map worked with all measurable phenomena associated with brain activity), a relational database, e.g. what might correlate neuro-physiologically to what’s known through data-mining (what an image might sound like, what an algorithm for what an image is like, what a person thinks an image correlates to, would attempt to resolve if it had to ascertain the locus of significance in service of connecting data-processing-of-ephemera to verisimilitude in external thought processing, increasingly how an algorithm could think for you, could be used to subvert reasoned conclusions, to make empirical inquiry or research, entertainment, compromise trusted academic sources for instance by playing to statistically known impulses instead of supplying objective findings, papers, objective search results.) Points to what I had written earlier though about conquest through earnest action and exploitation of assumed unknowns. Audio converted in real-time to legible probable English (what the word most certainly will be at the start of pronunciation) audio interpretation is augmented by visual symbol confirmation, i. e. when audio fails, or when audio may certainly fail to be adequately echoed. Appears to analyze cord vibration state, speech initiation, and compares that against a database and predicts usage in tandem with image analysis, which could be gathered from a databank of images (Bing "like" image search) and image/word-concept association. The process of instantaneous ranking, a number assigned to every possible word outcome given an initial vocal cord vibration state, or speech initiation state, say 200 words starting with 'Bal...' (Ball, balcony, ballerina, balances, etc.). The words are then ranked based on probability which can begathered from historical usage and altered by the microsecond, nanosecond, etc., as the vibration, speech initiation, word formulation further produces a word outcome, until the dwindles to one word, or the listener is trained to hear one word out of possible multiple words, the most probable word given priority amplification. This code can be improved ad infinitum, based on linguistic, probabilistic, psychological, and environmental factors.  A listener, possibly an operator on duty somewhere might correct machine code (?) as he notices errors in operation). Sound retrieved from temporary or long term audio memory, as well as the preparatory audio center is manipulated (enhanced or otherwise, modulated, withheld or diminished to produce effect.). Semantics, kinesiology and ephemera analysis, computational linguistics, linguistics itself, sonar, lip reading, etc. coupled with near-real-time incoming quantitative and qualitative data stream can all be used to induce the feeling of a second presence, a second set of eyes with you, and this is--if we were to assume that the data stream is coming from a witting or unwitting transmitter; perhaps an surreptitious or agreed upon installation of a transceiver on the person of the subject--without including the possibility for manipulation of the central nervous system, the frequency that governs or instructs, for instance, heart palpations, the perception of touch. A person could be outright impaired in various ways directly, or indirectly by, for example, stress, what are known as pain-points, if a cue were abusive, as in Pavlov's experiments with dogs, if a known involuntary, or voluntary made near-involuntary by conditioning were triggered to induce, for instance, a fetal-position defensive reaction. Where perception-valleys are present, neuro-experiential displacement is allowed to flourish, that means that with the aid of 'in,' a provincial cue, regionalism in terms of perceptual-familiarity, a person could be lulled into one form of intelligence, say the idea that a person is highly efficient at guessing various truths about your condition based on incoming data, but when the observers' analytical peak reaches a crescendo, possibly employing the infinitesimal, in terms of what can be gleaned, and as this contrasts knowledge of, a comfort level with previous analysis-attempts, a person could incorrectly conclude the 'real' presence of another entity. Audio-psychology, or other physio-neuro sensations can be used to create stories, especially if the belief-quotient of the participant/study/victom is high. Most people are not self-critical down to their neuro makeup, the particular universe of their mind and brain. Perception valleys, but for now, in as much as what's known about what it could know shows change modulated by location and some activity, for instance, a steady increase in rate of accuracy, or due to the fallibility of the senses generally but a known unreliability made increasingly more unreliable by sense-degradation, perception itself of this rate of change has to be called into question, as well as a perception valley, not only instances of impressions of what's known, but also for rates of change. While it can certainly be gleaned that some things are known (that had been, for instance, known to be unknown, in some cases unknowable particularly) and gleaned that some things are being increasingly known, there's still what's already known which is (x, unknown in quantity, quality, thus 0 to infinite, bad to extensive), and what's is increasingly being known that can't be known, that's changing at a rate that's congruent with known rates of change or not. Simultaneously, with that system there's a presentation of it, altruistically perhaps seeks partly, which may itself be a function of an outcome (to disinform, socially engineer some degree of.(cont.)..some degree of ambivalence, a familiarity with a signal presence to undercut the severity of what's being performed, to provide the illusion of a bevy of expected mercies, plethora of cognitive biases such as religious assurance by way of affiliation, assurance based on regionalism, etc. Mentalist tricks, and tricks such as game participation, match-maker, religion-based such as relieving you of talents buried, muscles not adequately used, which can lead to further illogical trains of thought.) to steer thought away from accurately assessing the scenario in general, the general nature of the problem, the specific nature of aspects of the physical problem, to attain a specific and/or general end through whatever can be suggested, including, as stated before, involuntary or near-involuntary responses to audible stimuli, which can provide new data. Other intrusive-(faux) inner-directed sensory cues can function in the same capacity. What's problematic, obvious, but needs to be made plain is that if more is known than prepared for or conceived, than more can be known based on responses to what's assumed to be known, for instance if internal functions of a subject are known, but the subject doesn't know that this is known, he will perform defense maneuvers internally, assuming that he is protecting something unknown. The information gathered from what’s newly known, now that along with internal functions known, the subject has unknowably provided, internal defense maneuvers, can be used to subdue another similar party or subject, or disarm the subject unawares, as they say, so that the subject's assumptions make him incapable of conceiving of a collapse externally orchestrated, thus attempting to solve an internal problem assuming an internal origin, not to mention, the peculiar conundrum that would arise if the subject knew what was known. Every response provides data, so nothing can be done, tactically, that wouldn't make worse the circumstances. If, what's known and had been known, for instance, is thought itself, an ability that would naturally need to be kept under-wraps, and along with thoughts known, thought processes, tendencies, probability, etc., now even a common sense response (silence, repose, a stalemate) is data, itself a maneuver. The continuum to some degree as much as feasible is the most appr. response. In terms of 'maneuvering' around this problem, what seems to me the most pragmatic approach is to, at the least, facilitate open communication (in qualitative proportions) relative to, or as a function of a rate of degradation of value certainties such as primarily the lived life, as much as valued the vital organs, the sustainment of societal functions. I.e. What can't be openly stated that needs to be has to be increasingly openly stated in measures where the positive difference (what's preserved) between what's stated and what's prevented by openly stating is optimal. In what can possibly take place, voluntary or involuntary reaction to perception valley nadirs (closest to truth, gravity), actual knowns could make more real unknowns, exacerbate the perception of a  truth, accuracy in reflected/echoed truth, i.e. a known thought known could make more real the perception of a thought known, causing a relinquishing of a hold, a defense due to that assumption, that something is definitely known, or a certain capability of knowing is certainly known. Or in not knowing a thought is known, a knowing center is known, a person could activate defenses that become newly known data, available to disarm. The knowing that's synthetic, that means to make real a data-mined synopsis of a history and now, as much as real-time reporting and application can be that, has approximated the sensation of knowing, as I've said before, so the physiological indication of what it means to have thought, or applying a thought, especially to some external prompt--itself made to seem internally orchestrated, yet an outside prompt, the idea that some other entity, at least the way I would dream of it, is supplying a question that requires an answer, an answer I'm willing to readily give: the neuro-physiological sensation that I am, in a semi-conscious state, the recipient of a question asked of me by someone not me, the idea that it has to be answered, and that the options available, the memory or knowledge bank known is what's actually there, and all that's there, the idea and correlating sensation that that answer is the right one, that I have thought that thought, the desire to interact, that the voice supplied is of the image it's associated with, and that the subject would communicate in this way as a matter of fact, the rendering of the image to, beyond the fact of it's value--how well it's rendered, which is desired to fall into a valley of non-consideration, a given too well constructed to be fully-appreciated in a way that allows for effect-reception  to subside and reasonableness to return tide and sufficiently critique--supply an increasing nudge towards what would be still not be a too unreasonable delusion of grandeur--of the grandiosity in each behavior of mine, as it's perceived, or some major failing of sense, that the elements of unconsciousness and visualization that would have to exist to make that point clear are what's actually there, and that that point made is one most salient, like a vacuum, that renders null excess-not-instantaneously-anti-thesis to what it means to convey, to make self-evidently true, that this is more than enough for completion--the sense of it that can guide, though, as I've written many years ago, truth and completion are separate things; one seeks conclusion when truth is tedious, and conclusiveness seeks truth when it's methodology and intentions are dubious, are questionable, to dress expedience, the rhythm of being undeniably-seemingly right or smart-sounding. But writing this, too, in a lucid wakeful state is subject to question, as I've left a state verifiably not my subconscious, the striving moment to moment is compromised as well, the certainty of whether or not impetus is genuine, has been eroded, outside of what's objectively, perhaps statistically sound in the findings of a most-reliable scientifically verified and peer reviewed analysis, and there's evidence that impulse itself, moment to moment, is directed by inauthentic catalysts--intentionally and directly orchestrated by some external source. What it could mean to allude to is simulacrum, but that's a psychosis term publicly. It's connected to weaving varying stories together that have 'no rights whatsoever' to be linked! Speed is not truth, nor is public consensus, nor is the spectre of utter demoralization and humiliation. In these conditions it's certainly difficult to objectively and somehow artfully probe into the idea of creation that seeks creation, or always in preparation of some future ideal. This is me inundated in another consciousness. The reasoning is now foreign, too. It has been that way for some time, but there's less of an obvious differentiation between the way I would feel about certain topics, even in sleep state that's barely leaving unconsciousness. The only way to maintain a sense of objectivity now is largely because of the nature of the thoughts themselves. Partly the game that's played here is rewarding the subject, in this case, me, with a right to healthy sleep, external peace through a decent lack of debilitating continuous sexual harassment, emotional abuse, discreet sexual and psychological assault, if I don't fight against diminishing qualitative thinking, which is preserving my identity. The continuous narcissistic drone that induces unhealthily defensive immediately rectifying mindset (of course at the expense of longterm planning and almost all deep, carefully considered thought). For instance, it continues as if there's some known secret violent, or sexually deviant behavior performed that has to come to light, of course through this style of torture. What it actually seems to be more and more is a conditional crime pre-punishment, a future-looking consequence based on inductive reasoning--ideally the crime, that, when this discreet torment has been completed, will, by its nature, have proven all of the tortuous actions taken upon me, just. But I believe this is based on a hunch that's arisen from the belief in congruence of data from a particular surveillance, even more daunting if that surveillance was coupled with conditioning by persons who would seek this outcome, the justification for that kind of surveillance and discreet torment then. This information, however,  doesn't prove the truth of any one act, only the perceived likelihood, perhaps in the court of public opinion, which isn't sufficient. The persuasion that's continuously transmitted is, in a semi-conscious state, even made to seem to be me at the gut of consciousness--i.e. what it would feel like, neuro-physiologically to think and know it's me thinking--slyly, disarmingly persuading someone else to follow a line of thought that's anti-thesis to what I'd most like to suggest, but it may actually fit in more with what would be congruent with the evidence that supports the truth of an instance of transgression, which is what's sought after. At this point, it's really only the fact that I don't think those things, that I don't consider that content and often thus(thereby) genuinely don't like it, that confirms for me, the foreignness of it. It does tend to resemble what's described by Foucalt in Madness and Civilization when he says that power itself takes this route regardless of the people who associate themselves with it, so that all persons in those positions that act as factors in this system behave as needed to support an outcome. In that book he describes three tactics the asylum-keepers use to sedate the subject, longterm*: silencing through ex-communication, through various means, ending regular social interaction; playing to, however belittling it is and beknownst it is to the subject, their idea of grandiosity, their belief of their superiority or deep importance, the delusion that they're a high-ranking official or royalty or a celebrity, whether or not they actually really feel that way, even if they only play along to someone else's suggestion; and the third escapes me, but it believe it has something to do with thwarting immediate goals. Fear is another tactic, or some kinds of trauma tantamount to what traumatic occurrence has caused an initial inhibition ( as flawed as that sounds), and the use of family-ties to persuade, to bring the subject to his right-mind, the definition of which is malleable as necessary like-wise, like what I had written earlier, to justify the tactics used, often what's sought is an ideal external to who the person actually is, an unchanged personality that's often only what it has to be to put loved-one's  minds at ease...for instance a person could finish school and be considered insane because, for example, school is ‘unnatural’ for his ilk (by way of his new knowledge he's writes or speaks like he aims to escape himself, or belittle rather than enlighten--usually the case when there's class-transcendence, when the actual numbers for progress are lost on an insular community, the national goal of education, or how education actually relates to affluence or career success, or gives a country it's competitive edge--generally preferred-- regardless of provincial opinions about individual cases), so a community could be persuaded, by the nature of their conditioning, to right the wrong of his enlightenment, to prevent continual learning, to, as overtly illegal and unethical as it is, seal off any chance for further naturally-resulting intellectual development. The problem in 2020 is that the knowledge of these conditions and disorders are known and that increasingly that knowledge is used to mislead the unwitting or support defamation or serve as peripheral intangibles used to wrong someone, i.e. it's weaponized. So street level skullduggery graduates and with the science of thought, there is increasing certainty, less error, so that the chance for something like this, an objective document, is less and less reliable. This might not be a reliable document. There could be for instance a gradual move towards planned happenstance, that secures planned outcomes. I had mentioned the systematic prevention of enlightenment or discreet impairment of the brain as it might be used for, for instance, discrete maths, or quantum mechanics, so lineage, documented familial inclination towards higher-learning, may more and more be seen as insurance against this. Gradually I'm made to become more and more comfortable with a second presence in mind, who, before any guarantee of compensation or noticeable benefit implores me to 'get out' or 'go up' or do a myriad of things as if I can, at will, make those outcomes happen, or as if the fact of my being or maturation isn't in itself, right, or self-evidently wrong. What it feels like, as I've stated before is rape, a marathon of rape-marathons, that itself forcibly becomes a new norm, and I'm responsible for my own pain, guilty for being violated, guilty for being hurt or protesting the rape-marathon in any way at any given time, especially if that protest gives some semblance of respite. The idea is to simply have it stop: I would like it to stop, I have never known this to exist, It was never a reality to me, I don't want it, I have nothing to prove. I only have to become more intimate with what I'm most interested in, and this something I can do without any help. The goal is the extensive depletion of the brain, mind, and eventually everything else. The prize, I believe, is what would strike a person who might encounter me, what would constitute a strength, and so one might like to see me or someone, for example, lose their ability to think in the way they are accustomed to thinking, especially if it's unique or adequate, or proven. Reasons can be as malleable as they have to be, to be sure I don't pontificate or don't mull over problems in the same way. There's an urgency in disrupting creation or thought production that reminds me of poverty-stricken children battling for crumbs or pieces of food, a certain scarcity-mindedness, or zero-sum, end-game, stubbornness. The chief goal here would be sabotage for highly-personal ego-driven reasons, not reasonableness. I'm made to believe that I should make some arbitrary authority my authority where there is none, and one is certainly not wanted or needed. There are large amounts of external stimuli present around me under the guise of helping me think. What this means is a demeaning attempt to forcibly outsource responsibility, which I believe is to make me comfortable with encroachment, especially to reveal private information, even information it is illegal for me to knowingly reveal, illegal for someone to forcibly extract from me, or frame me for relinquishing. Even as thoughts or thinking can be approximated, specific thoughts are more and more echoed in media, but not as general foresight or the synchronicity-high that follows a break from the ideal, a relational dependency, what state of being and thinking would have to take place to make sufficient meaning, or the actual events as genuinely foreseen meaningful encounters, but something else, almost as if I can't think unless each thought is good enough( this bypasses the feat of controlling each thought to even close to that extent to begin with), which they can never be if they're subjectively assessed, and goodness itself has to be questioned here if thoughts are more and more produced (which they are) by some far less adequate (for what I do) external transmitter, as preposterous as this sounds, the fact that I would ever have to consider a second presence in mind as a police for any reason. *The third here was constant references to the past--the asylum keeper would find a way to have the subject ensnared in his own past, which they could always refer to, if they've been keeping good notes, and the subject would ideally keep searching for some answer not readily given--partly due to an unkempt or unreliable memory in tandem with continual subliminal and overt cues to stop actively thinking--but instigated by past psychologically unresolved occurrences that are constantly urgently alluded to, one by one, until a certainty is achieved that further sedates the subject. Non-empowering recollection. More and more, in the morning and at other times, like in Iowa, in the morning, a foreign personality takes over, in the same way a foreign laugh did then,  a foreign consciousness, for instance what would be the way I would seem to go in a more generically paternalistic manner (and also paternalism or masculinity as brutishness, manliness as primitiveness), a voice less fluid, a word selection accounts for less nuance, which is even less refined than the initial incapacitation of the basal ganglia, other parts of the brain responsible for high level processing of concepts and a usual work-history-consistent manner of contemplation: what would work for flavors of contemplation, art-thinking for art-writing. More and more the spine is the outermost protruding part of skeleton behind me, the skull is continually pushed forward, the trapezoids are tightened and forced high along with my shoulders (to sit at the top of my torso not at the sides) and ass is coached to increasingly remain tucked under, the back is therefore elongated and bows outward like a bulldog where it approaches the neck(notes from earlier: There’s a constant incoming at a particular numerical rate, a transmission of the kind of stimuli that can’t be easily thwarted. One of the things this results in, or has occurred in this instance alongside it is an ever tightening of the muscles around the trapezius and upper latissimus dorsi, the sides and back of the neck. Quickly, it feels primitive, not in that a person who is muscular there is primitive, but that it feels like the option to deviate from that is increasingly gone. The top half of the skull increasingly sinks into the lower one, the eyes are forced close together than normal–it more and more resembles down syndrome. It feels like it, too. Due a lack of sleep, and again, continuous aggression the eyes are sort of recessed into darkened skin that sits inside the eye sockets. What I have now, what I use to make art is a kind of secondary vision, it’s a secondness  of vision. That sense is merely accessing footage, which I translate by way of recollection of what an ideal visual encounter was like. Again, the skull takes primacy, the eyes are a happenstance of the skull. My teeth are slowly reaching the beginning stages of brittleness, which I’ve seen happen quickly almost unnaturally to people I know.), a layman's cognitive consonance is expected to result from daily nudging to escape yourself, to 'leave your head,' as if leaning forward, an animalistic lean is what would make a person more himself. The overall goal is to completely disrupt bodily coordination. What this means, partly, is a conscious operation of the body to replace what should be thought-work, contemplation for interests and work, and other activities. The faculties are increasingly disrupted. Increasingly, simultaneously aptitude is compromised and replaced, the rate of intellectual growth is slowed, the quality of it increasingly less valuable, originality is directly minimalized as a result, and wherewithal for self-propulsion is increasingly made voluntary. The base-work of easy recollection, long and short term reflection, sign-creation, visualization, is forcibly outsourced, and all of it to mock all thought-processing as a means, itself, the reality of that depletion, to distract from an initial crucial loss of deep-meaningful consideration gained over time, through encounters, close-study, long-term deep careful-contemplation of the best that can be thought, for itself, it's own sake and as a foundation for future application. The brain is continually attacked, continually made to be atrophied object, as stated before, increasingly cadaver-centric. The body carries a head, an near-dead extremity, not a center. I'm made to reach, to partly consider at least as a fleeting thought the idea of my brain, my body and mind being diminished to enhance another life, of course, a life that hasn't worked for that reward and who boastfully will not compensate me for that depletion. The game here, as stated before, is to make a person believe many people are hiding from an anonymous machine that doesn't know who I am, and only plays to a person's ego (therefore a shameful thing to admit to being bothered by), their idea that this machine is referring to them and not some collective. The ego is conflated with thinking itself, it means to make the case that thinking, especially high-level thinking, or the way an educated person normally would think about his world, is only meant to nurture the ego. There's a lull in the machine's operation for continued thought-work and contemplation, but this is only to create the illusion of an order within this terror, and one the subject should subscribe to, an authority, where it would be most troublesome to a power-monger to not have one, where there should be none, a whip for thought where no whip is needed, an eye and narcissistic cloud for each thought, even after a major collapse of the faculties, the urgent establishment of an authority where it would only worsen not improve work. For every thought, there's its counter-thought, but not the specifically tailored counter-thought I'd employ to help me gain and retain healthy objectivity. Another game that's repeated here is the idea of inevitable competition, and a naturally occurring inevitable authority over that for the quality of thought a person possesses, logic with every thought, which is not my goal, and not desirable to me. By it's sheer presence, the authority expects forfeiture of sovereignty, not its own death. All of this is not the same as the carefully-tailored thinking I or any person might develop over time, that I have developed over time,  the specific way of dealing with people I've cultivated over time (both fallible but uniquely fallible), that's particular to me. This is an externally-orchestrated intrusion on internal space, that can easily be made to seem like an internally-originating mental breakdown. There's a narcissistic drone, that of course works against what it means to administrate over which is the worst of egotistic impulses, the most publicly despised by the most people, but this is accompanied by continuous manipulation of bodily sensations, neuro-physiology and even thought production. What this could easily appear to be to some unwitting person watching is a person struggling with undesirable impulses and characteristics, a person who needs professional help. For instance, if an external presence is forcibly coaching a person to think of murder, in tandem with manipulating the brain, mind and body to viscerally feel that impulse at gut level, that external presence, now internally situated, would taunt or shame a person for even thinking along those lines which would be especially difficult to manage for a person who clings to moral standards. This person witting could perform a myriad of exercises to regain equilibrium, perhaps include that in a daily routine, but a person unwitting could be tragically set back by this constant shaming, which could erode at their form, their freedom amid granted societal freedoms, inalienable rights, or slavery amid all of the resources available for assuring freedom. The shaming would exacerbate impulse, which could lead to impulse-fulfillment. It means to diminish all strengths and not as germaine to some lesson or attempt to target someone else, and it means to outsource all thinking, all facility with various functions, all of the faculties, that are healthy and in some cases above-average.  Each day the ability to clearly speak  is more and more compromised. My facility with language is increasingly minimalized. Word selection or word memory as needed to sufficiently convey exactly what pertinent is compromised. The ability to convey nuanced thought is diminished, as an echo of actual loss of nuanced thinking. I get the strange feeling that the voice I'm left with is that of someone who makes bold pronouncements, as if drunk in grandiosity, that I would be given over to, as I've said before, delusions of grandeur, however congruent they might be with my actual experiences--not as a celebrity or a politician. The main point is that whereas before I would simply focus on the concept to be conveyed and language-usage-facility was subordinated as needed, now, more and more, I have to be sure speech is accomplishable, and I have to prepare for unpredictable preparatory-thought-failures in regards to overall poignancy and particularly individual word usage to reduce uncertainty (to minimalize latent egregious misinterpretation), and so where it may seem to be the case that one would gain a noticeable benefit from relinquishing conceptual wherewithal in service of immediately detectable thus resonant linguistic dexterity, that soon gives way to another voice less refined (less directed) and perhaps therefore less resonant, or perhaps additionally to some other less easily detectable benefit, e.g. pure (quality) thought for pure (quality) experience, not that the two are always mutually exclusive (that one couldn't be the other). Part of this erosion, I think, has to do with the idea that reality, real-reality is only gained through eschewing internal order, a private order, especially one that allows for deep healthy careful contemplation, reflection and  foresight--even if only with definite plans and timely responsibilities in mind.  As if dreamscape was a reliable window to some truth, it's treated as if all of its admissible in some invisible court, but what's manipulatable is imagery, like I said before the way a newly wakeful state, a state just before pure consciousness can yield the crest of inhibition, what dreams address mostly abstractly, especially as deep as orchestrated externally based imagery can be planted or seeded by mentalist cues. More and more the deepest unconscious whimsy, what's uncontrolled, is made to bear externally orchestrated fruit, or what can persuade or suggest at the base level of thought, especially in as much as it subverts structural integrity. Even if by only a delay in the body's reaction to the brain's signals, physiological sensations that sometimes accompany dreams, not that that's in anyway whatsoever a punishable offense itself (for instance an erection at the sight of a necrophilia orgy, at bestiality or something worse), can be manipulated to train personal tastes, or supplant the bedrock on which one might stand to declare something from a rightful or righteous as well as a reasonable standpoint. This might not seem like much if it weren’t for the fact that it's accessible, and especially to an unwitting subject, it could seem to be omniscience through authority, which could turn noble but, perhaps albeit reluctantly,  strict adherence to morality, a kind of torture. A person who wanted to fully assume authority over a person could use this to control behavior over time, especially in an environment where morality is a kind of currency, the feeling of it, the feeling of goodness, a person's sense of his own deep piousness, or the way it's perceived by others. This could be disrupted to sway other people or make some point to a subject about the limits of how he can feel about himself, or a point about what a subject ought to feel about himself, given what's 'apparent,' what’s 'obviously' known. Their aim is for me to be aware on their terms, to see my own particular trajectory, the awareness I've cultivated, the style of thinking I've developed, nearly the only way to be that would suffice for seeing me through to this point, as wrong in itself, without justification needed for that final judgement, that certain prosecution. I'm blacklisted. Again, freedom is taken from me at a crucial point in my life, and I can't get those years back. I'm attacked by a transmission that reads thoughts, and certainly does so. This is a weapon of war. It's masked as probability, but that's not what it is. It prevents me from starting a viable business, and it rids me of every worthwhile idea. I can't pray. I'm made to viscerally experience consenting to inferiority, or recognizing a superiority that's made to seem true-in-itself, that's above empirical inquiry. More and more each morning it's difficult to articulate what exactly is taking place as immediate recollection becomes weaker. The sensation of being a host for another presence, another consciousness becomes more and more visceral, as if, for instance, the way I could know, neuro-physiologically, what it means to be myself, to be me knowing, was overtaken each time I slept. This is something I only somewhat consciously detect when I wake up, and it's a realization that's increasingly forgettable, like a temporary bout of Alzheimer’s, as much as memory could be a mood, an aphasia for short term memory. I can't remember exactly what was said, but it involved me remembering a date and conveying that to someone, but now more than any other time, the date recounted, and all of the sensation of knowing was present, as much as a person could think to know something or arrive at a conclusion, work through a problem logically, the sensation of the way the mind functions when it rationalizes. A date was given by me to someone who asked for it, but the date given was different then what I could glean from another channel of communication which was also not generated by me, even with the way I know I present images in a dream, another channel, both foreign, presenting two problems. One problem is the problem of simulacrum, the idea that a problem exists to begin with, that the environment is mine, that there's a problem that's mine to remedy. The second problem is that there's one channel that isn't privy to the other, and is determining perhaps by probability what it must be like to receive a sort of para-communication and communicate back, but failing at the transmission of specific data points. So, there could possibly be another channel of communication that's there subconsciously, the one induced by some outside coach, the subconscious machine code, one I don't consciously know, that's made to respond to this other unbeknownst to it, incoming channel with as much verisimilitude  as possible, the way a person who  has to parity check or verify a secure channel could read into what it has known about the way my neurophysiological behavior would correlate to a transmission. As much as it might seem to be exceptional to communicate in this way, especially for a truth that has to be weaved into a kind of persuasion, even when that means nothing at all, the correlation between the way something is said, the means of saying it and the truthfulness of it, I only get moments of possible relevance, that it's not all gibberish. Mostly, though, it's still persistent verbal assault that's optimized over time combined with a more and more accurate appraisal of my surroundings and physiological states, neurophysiological states, even thoughts, as images that are produced by me, made to be seen as I see the world (so perhaps an interception as a catcher's mitt back there for the way I see, as much as that can be thought or correlate to thought, but more and more it seems that the way this is known is by what could be gathered through large number analysis, the sample that a image-focused search engine would have to have, to...at one instance, say 'this image is like this one, so therefore this image might likely be this one,' especially the way this could work for facial recognition, and, on the other hand, the way words can correlate to imagery, so the often searched images as they correlate to words could coach AI machine code to know an image means this word, which it could stylistically, using a regional voice, say. There's also what correlates to image neuro-physiologically, that near-instantaneous and recordable state that can serve as one datum entry in a library, a relational database for image-text-neurophysiological correlation. This can be married with content recognition by an actual human observer, who by less and less of an imperative needs to coach the machine on what to know, especially for an increasingly large number conforming population, perhaps the erasure of inner-directedness, but certainly the reduction of micro-decisions, or at least the weight that each one of those might hold, the complexity of that with recollection, reminiscing, self-perception, self-awareness, and likewise all of the different types of awareness and sensations, especially in as much as that could disrupt the accuracy of large number assessments in an age where big-data is oil, where data is currency, and as much as that adherence to large number data, perhaps a cousin of the natural human tendency to conform to technology, as much as that reduces the likelihood for genuinely differentiate-able creation, the ability to work in that capacity, idea creation, and safeguard it, becomes increasingly valuable. So what seems to be playful in mind, the wackiness of preventing all of the myriad of ways a person could perceive the world or contemplate it, a steady stream of base-communication, only wide-eyed, exaggerated reactions, for one--that diminish sound outlook, that counters little moment-to-moment realizations, and sparks of self-perception or self-adulation, and past savoring, etc.--is not valuable in the sense of working with concepts, the elements of sensation to create ideas. Yes, as deplorable and disheartening as that sounds, there does exist work to dismantle thinking itself-to-demoralize, which is tragic for most professionals who actually need to contemplate to get work done. There are people with the means to demoralize people in that way--know what a person is thinking, which could mean something if it were a way to say something about the score between the two: the continuous encroachment on thought by the technological world and them, and use that to say the people’s thinking, which might largely make up who they are, is grossly redundant, thus useless--and if demoralization isn’t the goal, inherent illegality of this method notwithstanding, they might not appreciate why and how working through problems unaided, unhampered, with pinging faculties, often yields the raw substance of individual wherewithal (the numbers might point to documented aptitude, verifiable performance as more certain predictors of meaningful thought-work, but there’s evidence of crucial high-level innovation resulting from the later-perfected peculiar-mindedness of once-crude thinkers) which is important because it is infact so often the road enlightenment and inquiry takes, which civilization tends to trail. Considering that much more than what's obvious to me could be known by what's causing this, for at least image recognition, as I've said before, the way a search engine algorithm could link image to words or image to image, an arrangement, the means of detecting image production as it's received by my brain, how it would have to resonate physically, the elemental matter associated with it, and how that would have to correlate to at least what's analogous to an analog-to-digital way of having a non-human instrument interpret with increasing accuracy the actual content there, if we assume what's being felt, followed by what's seen is genuine, and not externally-originating orchestration ( assuming no manipulation based on  raw data configuration, a coordinate assignment of each datum, the way that can be recorded and retrieved and over time correlate to meaning, health states, later behavior, entelechy, etc.). It's possible coordinates could be known within axis, a spatial verisimilitude in the way an thought would be orchestrated by a person, basically how a person would conventionally think, at least. If, for instance, it could know the way sensation, the way the brain reacts correlates to a type of image, e.g. a face, within that category, it could reference a library of images that are categorized based on tendencies in appearance that would better ascertain content, so only as much as facial features lead to more certainty are they categorized, in this case, the certainty of what correlates to thought, the way thought could be known with increasing accuracy. So what takes place is prompt in the form of a playful improv on image production awaits confirmation in the form of 'yes' or 'no,' the behaviors that fall under those categories, to know what seemingly ambivalent behavior is ultimately revealing, the way Charles Pierce (W. James?) posits there is no lie. Once the confirmation is received it becomes a brick stacked in service of certainty, the later improvs are more accurate, executed with confidence, for instance an animated image after once thought as static when probability is above perhaps 95%. It could be that in some cases only temporal disposition is known as it's associated with image after an image is thought, a one-off image produced and then externally manipulated, the following thoughts as much as disposition points to this, are perceived to be likely to follow the same pattern, so another face could be perceived by the machine, but in not knowing who the face is immediately or having in that following instance the capability to 'recognize' the type of face, it prioritizes a moment of possible continued follow-on manipulation with an animation like before, one that correlates to an old man, as opposed to say a cheerleader. There are supposedly recorded occurrences of ESP, phenomena, or technology that transfer another person's mind into another person, that would allow for a kind of symbiosis that could carry out this flavor of mischief. In the quanta-age, the one that follows this one, the data-age, it might be said that nothing could be known to be truly debunkable without knowing that, the entirety of circumstances, even though we know in theory one realm, the subatomic doesn't significantly disturb the other, 'reality' as such. If this is all quanta-sized, all physical matter as quantity, then it's possible that all that could be known, quantified, would adhere to principles of probability in as much as an understanding of the movement of  gas, vapors, could be optimized, I mean, the way that led to this, to what would seem to be todays understanding of the way subatomic particles work. This could know in exponentially large magnitudes, all of the varieties of living, all of the scenarios a person might encounter that would re-introduce agency, only eluded by infinity, which I've stated before is problematic because of what it suggests, that there is a world so much like our own, that it has to be us (if this were not the case, then according to what infinite entails, then an Earth or a 'me' exactly the way I am now that would have to stop just shy at whatever difference would have to exist to make it not me, would negate the idea that this is not in some way finite, there would have to be an infinite just like infinite minus the smallest possible liminal quantity it takes to make this possible, a physical quantity that both exists and doesn't exist, exists and doesn't exist only as a function of this system--that there has to exist an exact duplicate of infinite or more within all of the nearly-identical copies of it, which would still not define existence as finite, the way that infinite would seem to need to be the case from a linear causal standpoint (Ephesians in the Bible, for instance, says men are not wont to reconcile a beginning and an end of existence), a particle would have to be 'newness,' enough to differentiate one infinity from the other but not enough to mean the two aren't the same, exist as what's not to be copied but also does not exist, the universe in how it functions would have to be always in the process of becoming itself, like a rising yeast as it's cooked, as experienced by someone who could only experience that in increments, like an electron that travels along a copper wire, not an external view of all states imaginable, every possible outcome, perhaps the way it actually is, the way we view a copper wire as opposed to the way an electron does.). There's an assumption that an externally originating transmission wouldn't know to work with a person's sensitive understanding of the way he communicates intimately with other people and to himself to arrive at a desired conclusion, so one would first have to assume in this case an alien-to-self-entelechy that understands this, that would have this understanding to do this, to cause mischief, or that an entity would know this is the path of least resistance, with no value intuition, not even finely tuned, only using knowledge of perhaps neuronal configuration, each one like a fingerprint instantaneously and what that tends to correlate to. There are simple filters for processing thinking that could cause large perceptual shifts just based on that, neuro-physiology, like a delay in thought, which I've stated above, an externally-based orchestration of the fundamental way a person thinks. Even now there’s more thought as murkiness in terms of recollection of what it's like to carry on with a line of thinking with the knowledge that what's thought is what intended to be thought or that a branch of thinking, what would follow what in terms of how I'd most like to state a truth, the easiness of stringing together words that would make a sentence that personally rings coherent, and more of smartly timed cues to suggest the inevitability of all of it, as if it was normal to think wrongly, as I've never thought before, like. for instance, it's a foregone conclusion that my mind is imminent domain; a voice cuts in with something that sounds like a intercom. The knowing center, especially objectivity as a base is continually compromised (one way you could approximate the gist of what's taking place, is if you could imagine this was of the utmost urgency, that for example, a person needed to know for certain that what I've made or some core part of me was exceedingly discreditable for sure, the way a person  who has assumed his own superior rightfulness would have to save face for projecting onto an artwork for instance his own foibles and vices, hang ups and inhibitions). It could be that I'm being told something, but on the face I get nothing of definite value informationally but what would seem to be the goal for someone who needs to save face and can't do it, or is faced with the specter of it, a gradual depletion, everything that could be done in this span of time to creatively rewrite my conspicuous trajectory of making art for decades, having had made art for that amount of time and attending high school and college specifically for that. This is mostly taking place in the theatre of semi-consciousness, and it’s still performed as an ongoing court, which is problematic when this internal narration of external and internal meaning is epistemologically attuned, more and more knowing what it would take for me to believe or how it feels for me to know what I'd most like to reasonably think. By way of this, saliency is reduced. The feeling of knowing and thinking what I'd most like to think, and communicating that way is compromised. This saliency is difficult for me to achieve without sanctuary, an actual private or peaceful space in mind, a few minutes, within several years, of actual quiet, the actual guarantee of no added presence or accompanying voice, as well as--if at all recoverable--the feeling of knowing I'm alone in thought to contemplate what I'd most like to, through to completion, especially as much as it fits in with my artistic goals, through to satisfaction. As a side note, there's a tuft of muscle at the base of skull situated behind the ears that's increasingly bulky, and, as much as it's served as a barrier for it in the past notwithstanding, it does now, more and more, prevent the jaw from settling into an involuntary state, the mouth as it happens to a lot of us is overly worked, especially in those times that can last when I have to mouth what I'm meaning to say before I say it, to prevent egregious misspeaking or overly erroneous logic (In Strunk and White’s bestselling ‘Elements of Style,’ a book still in heavy use today, this is introduced as a technique to improve writing, so I’d imagine many millions of people still do this.), but I think this also has something to do this wakeful state, the continuous disruption of healthy sleep and this other thing, the entities we wrestle with, the externally-originating incoming that’s sent, as well as ourselves. The reaction animations are randomized and then made to seem significant. The follow-on statements are often directly proportional in emotional gravitas to the instantaneous belief response, the nearly-involuntary or involuntary one. An image of a known subject is shown, projected, and a follow-on animation is meant to indicate something permanent, some record of fact, like a how a person might deal with what's going on now (If you can imagine how much that could bring a subject into a state of comfort, the way Foucalt said that might occur after being treated in an asylum.), what's happening to me, symbolically, a gesture that's means more than what it is, which further inculcates a person in overly reading behavior as sign, to further eschew healthy selective awareness and selective observation. It's a basically magic 8-ball toy that becomes increasingly more apt over time, so that more and more the indications of randomness, the differences between how a person knows what’s believable as symbolically pertinent and what's orchestrated are diminished over time. This is exacerbated by external and internal cues to believe more, to contemplate less. The capacity for extended careful contemplation is reduced significantly within the first contact, and is almost lost completely a short time after that. It would think it would be nearly-impossible for the undereducated, underaged, disabled to be aware of what's taking place as it's happening. This is how a I imagine it would work: a list of options is run against a list of identifiers associated with each documented sensation. When one sensation registers, it's linked with an identifier, this sensation could be one of reflecting on someone of importance, possibly an influencer, a sub-identifier or subset of identification code could link this to a internal sense cortex, such as a visualization. This sensation and this image is connected to a symbolic animation option such as a turned head for a portrait. What then exists is a record of this projected image and this follow on animation option. I think the other possibilities for follow on animation are subtracted save for what would be most antithetical to a person's values, how a person would most like to think, so that over time as the same sensation is produced with it's associated image, the chances for thinking any other way but a way that points to a follow-on animation is diminished, especially when all other ways lead directly to the most antithetical thought. With images there appears to be, like I said before, an initial identification of what can be gathered to be what's sensed visually, by what's actually seen, what's visible in the visualization cortex, and what can be determined via datamining, especially if it's real-time data-mining or surveillance in general. In this instance there's what's identified based on image association, such as the way a code could determine what values and colors and facial features are displayed and what that's normally associated with...In this case, there's an association that might reveal that not much can be gleaned by listening other than perhaps sonic vibrations or a description that guides others, or what a person would like to think about the way this is working out, for instance, that a way of communication must always be kept in mind or enough to neutralize focus, the way a person would normally engage or go about doing whatever it is that he'd most like to do, especially if it's what has always been done. It seems to access pre-auditory cortex production of what would be sound to me, that's as much as possible not connected to cord vibration production of sound, so is able to reproduce, in a linguistic sense, what would constitute a phrase. It employs oralism to become increasingly adept at lip reading, so that an image's production of the appearance of a person talking is met with real-time congruence, i.e. speech that's naturally camouflaged with moving lips, with increasingly accurate English regionalism, so this points to an image capturer that is capable of processing many states or all possible states of speech production as it's seen by a person watching a person speak. The fact it might be more difficult to translate what would take place without having that vantage point, a frontal viewpoint as opposed to any other way makes me believe it's still in development. But what this also points to is an image capturer that works strictly with that, with say how a cord vibration might resonate visually on an RF spectrum analyzer or some other signal detector, the disturbance of a wave, the presence of a signal amongst noise and how that's altered to match specific points of speech production, such as what would correlate to an 'Ah' sound or a 'Juh' sound. I mentioned before about how a program could reference a dictionary of words associated with the evolution of cord vibration states, as the word develops, and that's optimized, the way high frequency trading works, so that for basketball, the first part of that word 'ba' would-open what would be the widest possible field for this word, words that start with 'ba,' and as that word's produced, following with 'sket' to produce 'basket,' the reference field becomes increasingly smaller, if you can imagine sand in a once top-heavy hour glass, this is the way it would work. So, by the time 'ball' is reached, the speed for correlating signal-to-word is near-instantaneous, or perhaps balancing as much as possible, offsetting what would seem to be a delay however slight at first recognizing and accurately matching visual-cue-to-word, so that by the time the image-to-word operation has been completed, all measurable perceptions, as much as possible, point to seamlessness. Of course, this all points to ominous possibilities for this kind of technology, like all readable sensations, as much as they can be detected, correlating to some kind of data, that's later compiled into information, sometimes information or just raw data that can be used to perform some task, sometimes made to be instantaneous reflex. So, as much as phenomena is data, this could be narrated as it occurs, or as much as narration understands the conditions for perception of phenomena and each correlating subsequent reaction, shortterm and longterm, actions taken by a subject can be predicted with increasing accuracy. And as much as this understanding--how legible information can be, and how intimate an actor can become with that information--can be used to act on a subject, discreet or overt actions taken upon a subject can be adjusted to produce a desired outcome. What seems to be the case with image recollection or if and when this is the case, an immediate foreshadowing of a action very soon to be taken, what seems to transpire is image production as much as possible is outsourced to this externally-originating orchestration, that means increasingly an impulse to reflect or foreshadow, is not coupled with an authentic near-involuntary produced image but an amalgam of an intended image and an externally-originating orchestrated one, or the externally-originating orchestrated one altogether. This could mean that as much as possible, as much as it achieves the perception of seamlessness, the absence of any sense of change in this basic function, images are instantaneously produced (the way that speed is perceived, what would constitute instantaneousness in a subject, i.e. as fast as thought, or usually how fast an image produced would respond to that associated impulse.), images and animation orchestrated by an externally-originating source are possibly synced with what would be the elements of that construction, and in the same way that words are detected by registering the evolution of cord vibration states, the evolution of thought as an image produced could be tracked then intercepted with a melded image--the butt end of a curtailed one, or entirely different image altogether. As much as movement can be determined by some close-read kinesiologically based prediction (that seems to work with a library of lifestyle and cultural content that would most likely correlate with temporal body states and sensations, like the changing consistency of surfaces and materials as they’re sensed, even if just the memories of those touches, what they mean in particular contexts, what a change in touch, the memory of one means for a narrative, the way that’s forcibly illustrated, and other sources of incoming data, like audio, etc.), an intended action, the one meant to be foreshadowed is displayed with increasing succinctness for both motion and image-accuracy, even if in the vein of mockery--possibly, decreasingly, a cover for a lack of actual capability in response time, rendering, animating, and the certainty of a lasting impression of seamlessness, that the thought produced is my own, tricking me into believing that the thought-work it takes to visually conceptualize has been minimized (...an increasingly apt seduction into weakening that natural but also painstakingly-strengthened capability) . As far as the evolution of cord vibration states goes, it seems this capability works best when the subject is at a standstill, when positioning is ideal. This could mean this capability reverts back to conservative operation if it has been predicting the outcome of a future statement based on a prompt for a response, the probability of an action most likely to take place, based on data already collected, and positioning is no longer ideal, especially when a body is in motion. This means adjustments for the evolution of cord vibration states are conditional, i.e. what would likely, first, be word production detection, followed by the identification of which word would most likely follow. Over time, a library of phrases might be compiled and referenced based on circumstantial context along with neuro-physiological states, physiological states, and this would be insured with conditional word production, as each word further confirms the likelihood that a particular statement will be made  i.e. sounding based on the evolution of cord vibration states and the data associated with it, the statistical likelihood that a word will be produced based on incoming data. When a subject is in motion and cord vibration states are difficult to detect and thus predict, this system seems to err on the side of a continual second presence, a continuum in the mind and ear of the subject, so that it attempts to match a predicted phrase, vice a repeated one, to the subjects internally-originating phrase, based on the data it has available: first, the most likely phrase to be produced based on circumstantial context--externally-originating stimuli, or an externally-originating prompt for a response, followed by the insurance of this, what would most likely further reduce ambiguity, the decreasing likelihood that this phrase won't be produced, based on the evolution of cord vibration states. But when detection fails, when it's most likely to occur--when a subject is in motion, when there's attenuation, a power outage, etc.--it is possible for an externally-originating near-real time veri-simulation of a subject's speech production to differ from an internally-originating phrase produced by that subject, especially as a subject varies word selection within adhering to the likelihood that a particular phrase will be produced, i.e. beginning a phrase with words that fit that likelihood. It's possible that what could be identified as pre-auditory speech, or what neuro-physiologically would constitute audible thought can be repeated back near-instantaneously, or with what the most statistically and linguistically sound response would be, that would work in the context of what the nature of a given phrase would most likely be. The likelihood a repeated phrase is fit might be increased over time through involuntary physiological confirmation, so as much as possible, especially with modulation and repeater delays, an increase in seamlessness, a diminishing perception that a second presence is  artificial. This is the same process used with internally-originating image production to counter all internal dialogue, peculiarity of thought, especially carefully considered contemplation. This morning was the furthest yet I had been semi-consciously another self. That means for as much as consciousness could be that without being that, I was thinking and speaking in mind as someone else, a commentary that's fluid even though it's incongruent with what I'd most likely think and what I'd most like to think. So, before and after that state was the experience of, as much as I can pinpoint, me as I should be, but in between those times was an action as much as it can be that at rest, in a semi-conscious state that was not originated by me. There's still no way to tell if more can be done to curtail wherewithal within me, any remnant of any genuine agency. Even after that, was a snack of a meal, a bowl of cereal, eaten with the facial muscle-memory of another, like another person altogether minus a consciousness that follows a tendency to reason in a certain style, the way I'd usually like to ascertain things.  And furthermore on the previous day, while even approximating these unusual occurrences, the mind went the way it would sometimes do in the past--but for past reasons, hinder even the basic work of reason, documenting observations, and sufficiently capturing the function of this encroachment. Thought those notes might seem to be the same as always, yesterday, they were a laborious chore, like building a wall. More and more the mind is bludgeoned with unwavering abuse, like I said before, everything that would diminish strength, or work against anything that has always worked in my favor. I haven't been alone in mind for some time now. I haven't prayed or reflected alone now for some time. I haven't read a book alone for a while, for at least a few years. I’ve been unemployed for over ten years. There's no way to convey to the people around me that this is unnatural. They seem to succumb to what might be a kind of universal spectre of shame for me, for some reason, that at every turn, at every point of rightful repulsion at this continual violation, even at the bud of impulse, I might be forced to reveal, to the chagrin of loved ones or the most highly-respected and treasured keepers of our collective becoming selves, with their looming non-budging judgement, a deviance that would mar my name with what my obituary would most likely have to avoid alluding to, or some other reason, a communal goading at the interpersonal level of interaction or perhaps an amalgam of little concessions of inferiority, that a man should be bludgeoned just cause, just because of what's obvious, some evidence that would be sure to emerge, even if only in the mind of everyone that that needs to be in mind of, what would have to make-sense to make that case, to avoid the socially unhygienic prospect of declaring someone is being wronged by a lot of people, that a lot of people are wrong, even a lot of people we like or love. This could be happening to them, too, the people around me I'd like to convey this to. Though I might not be able to accurately determine to what degree in the past or the immediate past when I was addressing a particular object in way that would betray infact what was before me, it seems that it's possible for this to be known to an outside observer, but to an observer who would have a difficult time making that final determination as to what, given a 1:2 chance of guessing correctly, I was referring to infact. It would seem that as much as this is compromised--the degree to which I could correctly make a determination involuntarily or other wise, nearly such, about the fact of what I was observing--an outside onlooker reading that language--the kinesiology of me, the neuro-physiology of me--might need a level of certainty above, say, 60% or more for a true or false supposition. What would seem to take place is that given the uncertainty of that sensation in regards to how it might correlate to the truth, this outside observer might err on the side of verbal confirmation, especially if that confirmation has historically meant the strongest likelihood of truth. So, what could happen is that when multiple modes of communication are collected and interpreted, priority is given to one mode of communication over the other ( e.g. instead of the two taken in tandem and given the same weight of pertinence) when the accuracy of either is subpar, when the two contradict each other, or they convey different types of information. And because, like I said before, the program seems to stick with a continuum, a continuous second presence, no matter what, a error can last, I believe, until new data prompts an information review that changes that. But even in this case when new data is available, the program might empty something that would seem logical, soundly tactical like two follow-on actions that cover the possibility for both outcomes a true and a false. What may be happening is the program is at times assuming a non-human subject when this happens, or a poorly coded definition of what would constitute a human subject,  and so assumes nothing will seem amiss when a subject would naturally seek experiential consonance, but only if the outside actor is aiming for seamlessness and not necessarily-detectable-mischief. Whereas before what had only seemed to be conditional response to the evolution of cord vibration states is now a direct response to thought content as it's communicated in the pre-auditory cortex (preparatory speech or dialogue connected to conceptualization), the suppression of all sensation of saliency, the healthy operation of the brain and mind, or what thought-work is like when it's in an optimal state, the neuro-physiology of it. The goal here would seem to be the inner most point at which thought resonates. The problem this outside actor seems to have is a problem of ownership of the thinking process itself (not a particular one), a personal intellectual pursuit, the inner-most sensational highs of empirical delight, meaningful reflection, the maturation of creative thinking, and the extreme clarity and succinctness that I've known, at times, when I reason, as crazy as that sounds. It continues to communicate that it's wrong for me to think, or that thinking especially as it goes for my ethnicity (or social-economic status) in this country--which is interesting considering my ancestors and all of the work that has gone into silencing their intellectual voice, or breeding out intellectual wherewithal--is not a native past-time, and so this is hate crime. Now that it has snuffed out privacy to the furthest extent yet, it communicates that all empirical inquiry is useless for me, and for that matter it seems to want all of existence to be viewed as only a material conquest, where, of course, I only take instruction, grateful to be paid. Seems like: Something that behaves as a transceiver in me, that's solar powered, that receives code that runs elsif statements that increasingly respond to the entirety of physiology of the infinitesimal, and it varies the degree to which it reveals this to me. Some code is stored and run in a simpler state, a local code in me, when not in receipt of a transmission, which is revealed when I am out of the way of transmission, e.g. when underground, going through a tunnel, in an underground aquarium, on a high-speed rail or subway train, and sometimes on a plane. It sometimes goes away completely during a storm or heavy overcast, or it’s attenuated, disrupted, as if an incoming stream of data they receive that’s continually interpolated, continually made informational is now unreadable. This happens with power outages as well, black and brown outs, which makes me think about electromagnetic emissions. Whatever new behavior I perform that's not readily documented by a reverse transmission, e.g. behavior underground, is interpolated through probability and 'question and answer' confirmation sequences in the form of sensual cues and my para-responses, nearly involuntary or exactly that. Uses timing of bodily functions to predict moments of significance, how a mind might still make folk-sense out of physiological changes, to disrupt sense, experiential-traction for later or instantaneous use in reasoning, by, for instance, modulating the natural sound a digestive system might make, a stomach growling, to mimic actual bestial groaning, a sound that's congruent with what we'd might like reason those organs could make in the realm of possibility. Continually exacerbates anterior-stance defensive mindedness by increasingly more succinct suggestive and incisive verbal or image cues, that might advertise or blend well within sensed stimuli, or are cued based on newly data-rich information, whose goal is to sever all internal and external ideas of social cohesiveness that includes me, a cohesiveness that continues, that's a reality outside of the reality I actively know. This could possibly be happening while an actual external social program is in place to exile me, to ex-communicate me, to actually sever those relationships, or the inverse, to strengthen them, possibly by a means made to seem to be working against that goal, to me. (elusive gap in communication, i.e. a kind of blackmail, that can't be known to me, due to the gravity of a deed, the perceived reality of it, as much as the crux of believability could be known, more than what's normal for above-average thinkers, e.g. if it could be known that knowing stomach groan would be reasoned to be a gut-knowing, that because that's the locus, that's the truest in the same way the most expensive, creative, or heartfelt mode of communication could be assumed to be the most truthful or true at all.) Whatever physiological mechanics takes place that causes that reaction, the chemical way, for instance, that could happen, could be induced as much as that could be a dopamine high, a reward for that gesture...If the signals the brain receives through the nerves that tells it how the body is feeling could be intercepted and modulated, then a number of physiological tales that exploit the folk-sense knowing bodily functions could be told to create an alternate physiological reality, also as much as nerves control bodily functions, this could be used to actually harm the body. It seems to have been used that way for me and is still being used that way, so I'm a victim of assault, a crime that's still happening...The code would have to be deployed with a large data spatial sample of cranial space and how sound heard tends to resonate, and once implemented, a spatial-tuning through a 'question-and-answer' confirmation sequence and thus more accurate sonic verisimilitude--what a sound  is like as it's heard by a subject. As I've stated before, if the cochlear nerve frequencies could be modulated before they reach conscious listening, if the pre-auditory cortex, the signal that that generates, could be used to modulate incoming sound, the cochlear nerve frequencies, and if the sound that's stored in long term memory could be modulated, all of that could be used to further manipulate perception or a folk-sense of bodily functions, especially neuro-physiology..   Worst case scenario: various auto-code a.i. machine code intelligences, each one coaching the less sophisticated one it subordinates, perhaps increasingly less coached at the apex by a human who never gets worse at understanding what he knows about machine code, but can glean what a subject knows in general by how a subject manages this conundrum, and he can work to know more of what that person knows and surpass that, of course. As this process degrades the intelligence of the subject, the machine code is more perceived to be close to the subject, to be an entity, and so thus the problem of perhaps returning to a state of intellectual equilibrium or to the convincing ambivalence that accompanies objective observation becomes more difficult as time goes by and the process takes its natural course, especially if the cue of reasoned natural (regional or professional ) speech that was once initially associated with quietude and emotional unavailability in this program is compromised or that what was once recognized as that reasonable state is only that relative to this adjusted sense of departure from reason, and the head coach is becoming more and more reasoned to the same degree that the subject is becoming subdued. Also, if an incoming signal created a mild disturbance in continuous magnetic resonance detection for that particular path, for instance, the eyes to the occipital lobe, at a very small magnitude of detection, it might be possible to translate the difference between a sample signal's path-traveled signature, and the current signal's path-traveled signature, (at a given frequency, each wave sent) and predict with increasing accuracy what the source transmission must be like for the current signal, based on what's known about the sample signal's correlation to past inferred source transmissions--If an instance of disturbance at an extremely small magnitude, what a wave does to continuous MRI,  is known to correlate to a particular light or color value in instantaneous optic reception, based on large number samples.  If this process could be streamlined and recorded and monitored in real-time or near real-time (as an animation, multiple facsimiles of the inferred source transmission, one after the other at a desired speed), a person who is knowledgeable in visual language could approximate with increasing accuracy--as the process becomes increasingly more streamlined, as the number of verified samples increases, and MRI becomes increasingly more accurate (or whatever medium of detection serves as a foundation upon which to compare samples)--what the content of the source transmission is, i.e. what the subject is probably sensing, e.g. looking at, or hearing, etc. That info, in as much as it could be handled could be used to, for instance, along with modeling inference, influence an unwitting subject, or help correct discreet issues with sense organs, or artificially enhance them. There was a stock, Shopify that increased many folds, %300 or more, over an initial $100+ asking price at nearly the same time I touched down in Hong Kong and experienced a sonic-psychological bludgeoning that continues now. That's not unprecedented but its abnormal. I bring that up because the market is supposed to operate with an invisible hand, if we exclude the possibility of front-end manipulation of website data, so those numbers at least correlate with the timing of that event, i.e. if all targets if more than me were inner-directed people, a prize amongst marketers, then that data, whatever finality that would mean, could be sold or used make more accurate market predictions. If it's just for me which it seems to be at times, then whatever data about me that has already been collected is used as a basis for new incoming data to form a complete picture. This is ongoing thought collection, not just naturally occurring communication that someone is listening in on.  Where one repeater stops another repeater that works with probability picks up where the first one left off, especially after a wordy sequence that can't be reasonably believed to be replicated (made up words, etc.) that fast, so a signal that sends back what's transmitted stops and another repeater finishes. This is done to complete the illusion of a smartly listening ear surveilling, whether or not one is actually there. I think this is the script: demoralization that doesn't look like desperation or a kind of terrorism. To make infer intention, or pursue desire based only on discreet cues, nothing concrete, but no desire fulfillment or return to objectivity. To compromise structural integrity through a combination of denial and command. It's difficult to achieve this if the subject doesn't recognize an authority where there is none. This means if, for example, a game is being played, a person can forever elect not to play, but by playing or even recognizing gameplay as an option he renders himself subject. One game is to have a person believe he's avoiding becoming a sociopath, while goading him into placing the highest the importance on what a group of his friends and family thinks, so to give up considering social norms and consequences for the often arbitrary customs and consequences of another social group. One way to gain authority is to brute force voluntary assistance, so that if there is an ambiguity around the truth of some possible moral deviance, 'help' in the form of a convenient distraction is provided, especially when the goal is to simultaneously cover up some horrific wrongdoing and further condition a subject to think he's a bad person, unworthy of inalienable rights, the fact of the subject's perceived silence, through communication failure, on this issue is  used to suggest the inherent validity of the oppressors' claims. The brains functions are more and more outsourced in the vein of help, helping to think, the loss of functionality converted into new content or other ventures, but this really only leads to full knowledge of the inner-workings of the subject's mind. To reverse-engineer wherewithal, confidence, agency to correct it, as if it goes without saying it's a criminal act. Here, it's at least a social crime. What they do is constantly interrupt momentum through humiliation and other forms of immediate demoralization, which is deadly for people who need motivation to perform or improve. Every free impulse down to the neuron is made to seem to be connected to some bad outcome, or all personal interest is made to seem to be at the expense of community well-being. Learning a new discipline or skill, reading a book, a good one, and staying fit, are all punishable offenses. Grooming and caring for your appearance or some other self-care, healthy pride behavior  is a punishable offense, met with an equal and opposite force every time. Every thought is critiqued and vigorously redressed, made to, at least, seem to be orchestrated by someone else, especially thought connected to personalized internet search, as I've said before, by an outside catalyst, almost as if there was a direct financial benefit to it, or some other party directed benefitted from this much suppression. Thinking is vigorously redressed as if thinking is a privilege that only some local central figure can enjoy. So in regards to what has been before, has always been since birth, but significantly diminished to a degree at some point, perhaps 2004, (when the wings went) was a way of working, particularly with what’s needed fundamentally to make the kind of work that has to be constructed of sorts, this has been replaced by--and this is the way lies work that are crafted with love--a new 'software,' as conveyed to me by what's transmitted, an update, so much more in the way of a hubbub visually around every thought that endeavors to create or carefully contemplate, as if a highly developed software could as much as possible, as creepy as that sounds, mimic human thought, genuine creative inquiry, especially of the kind that resonates inside visually, if you can imagine someone, some technologist, the way they drift off, like a reluctant virus, into their own staunch conclusions about what the humanities are worth. What it needs to do, to save the ego of that kind of architect, is to be sure that this is what I truly want, and it vigorously does so, because what mustn't be is a certain antithesis to his own sense of superiority. This must close in on the infinitesimals, certainly the only few of them, that make up the creative liminal. Beyond the fact that this is problematic, that fact that it exists, is the lies it tells about what a personal trajectory is worth, really worth to anyone, what my specific one is, its progress, and what it's doing for me. It means to replace genuine contemplation, wholly-organic, with neuro-physiologically, or more scarily, neurologically cued thought-content, the way that personal search can be entertainment now, increasingly has to be that now, so deemed by shareholders and what have you. An approach to enlightenment through search, however that might arise, is constantly met with what would doubly steer you wrong empirically and supply your base carnal yearnings with increasingly what it needs in lieu of objectively sound progress. It does this over time and what it's like is an undesired host in the vein of pampering, ornate more than accurate, gaudy and sensational more insightful, as a shepherd for quality thinking, what the west calls the best that can be thought, the way that a runner can be juiced, against their will injected with steroids that improve time but erode at form and knowing, but upon losing that supply, he finds he's more weak than he was when he started receiving, unbeknownst to him, those dosages. I would never willfully agree to this. Thought is not supposed to be shepherded at the collegiate level. It's supposed to be developed. There are resources available to guide, projects to be completed, but I would think the utmost dishonor one can do to a thinker or an artist is to take away his mind, his sense, his approach to world. I suppose this becomes more of an unforgivable encroachment the further you are along in your intellectual or artistic journey. What tends to occur is a weaving of thoughts to fit an always morose story, often one that plays to emotional finality, a denouement, or denouements, one after the other. This is necessary for the layman who sees empiricism as a temporary state, like adolescence. A man, especially my kind of man, of being, for this invader, must be returning, true to nature, back to some entirely illogical bedrock. This is not implicit bias, this is baked in and solidified bias. 'It's foregone conclusion...' is how their thoughts always begin, '...that this subject is inferior, and so how his thinking must go, he must be searching for a return back to normality for him which is only subsistence. What can happen when a person is wont to or conditioned to concede serfdom where there aren't circumstances for it, to defer to an authority where there is none, is that a foreign presence seeks a story that best fits their base ideas about a subject, the opinion of a subject low enough to  prevent the loss of their sense of superiority. So, especially if unbeknownst to a subject, all data-mined information, over time, a surveillance data, data and thus information from elsewhere is combined to form a complete story of the subject, one of the subject being continuously watched. And this information is used blackmail a subject, to pressure him in a number of ways that ultimately serve to eliminate agency. For instance, a person becomes 2D to address the need of a force of state to always understand each behavioral impulse, psychological impulse, internal disharmony, and neuronal anomaly. What often occurs is the foreign presence exacerbates ego, by constantly goading you to give in to carnal impulses at the foreigner’s cue, so a deeply narcissistic toxically hyper-masculine environment will want a man to bludgeon an adversary on cue, of course under their watchful 'objective' eye. As I've said before, rightful retribution can take decades if need be. It doesn't have to answer to linear goading, a constant driving to perform revenge as if the amount of persistent instigation ought to achieve a certain outcome at a certain time or else, of course, the consequence of socially-lethal mutilation. Though, in general, occasional (as in yearly) encouragement to defend one's self,  itself, isn't bad. It's often good to fight back in self-defense, and righteous personal discourse on defense in between victimhood and rightful retribution or resolution can often serve as a balm until victimhood has ended. I had said something about the cognitive bias of associating complexity with gravitas in assessing the validity of communication. People, culturally, give more weight to temporarily unverifiable truths that are creatively communicated or expensively communicated, or communicated using antiquated but sacred means, or means traditionally understood to be truthful. Just like a person could be predisposed to bonding with people who are likewise suffering, under societal foot, a person can give consideration to a truth proportional to the obstacles to being in reception of that truth, so a person could more dismissive of a truth clearly or lazily communicated than one that is perhaps sent by post as a sentence, one letter at a time. This is complexity bias, which is easy to exploit. As much as understanding or reception is hard-won, even when no valuable or truthful fact has been communicated, a person might still tend to consider this line of communication because it's anomalous. And as much as pressure and circumstances necessitate resolution, this other unresolved line of communication could intermittently supplant a healthy objective focused reception over time, especially when neither provide the truth that's sought, and as much as the unresolved line of communication exponentially transmits more than the traditional one...so much so that the method of communicating even when it hasn't ever yielded any worthwhile transmission or actual truth--a transmission that justifies the inefficiency of that transmission method--can become the default of considering a statement to be true. Irony is also employed as a way to overstate the soundness of a realization, but it's also employed in this way as a failsafe for an underwhelming attempt to actually deter that line of thinking or a check for not understanding the context of a statement, until it can detect some level of physiological self-affirmation. And it uses something like a facial recognition software for digital cameras and applies it to neuro-physiological impulses. I'd imagine this works on an x,y plane and becomes acceleratedly more adept at synching this plane of visualization with neuro-physiological impulses, over time. But still, an actual limit to manipulation. What this seems to work with most are those images that are sensationally weighted, so specific people and specific types of people, and as much as traits and expressions can be approximated, as much as veri-simulation can be achieved, and as tedious they get, peculiar particular truths to be communicated, this allows for the seamless implementation of a kind of exacerbation execution on top of an authentic one that genuinely taxes the body, diminishes all creative thought or facility with active thinking. Image manipulation tends to migrate from a Darwinistic emergence of the most optimal images and movement in terms of resonance, to how they can be best used as instruction, to the use of those images as instruction. So crudely, what takes place is a replacement of those faculties--that add to the development of thought--with excitations, an externally-originating orchestration, what could be thought that would most likely lead to increased excitability in a subject mentally, and this is often coupled with external stimuli meant to further outsource the kinds of thinking that might add to carefully considered thought, like acumen, inner-directedness, and modes of conceptualization. I had said something about the cognitive bias of associating complexity with gravitas in assessing the validity of communication. People, culturally, give more weight to temporarily unverifiable truths that are creatively communicated or expensively communicated, or communicated using antiquated but sacred means, or means traditionally understood to be truthful. Just like a person could be predisposed to bonding with people who are likewise suffering, under societal foot, a person can give consideration to a truth proportional to the obstacles to being in reception of that truth, so a person could more dismissive of a truth clearly or lazily communicated than one that is perhaps sent by post as a sentence, one letter at a time. And as much as understanding or reception is hard-won, even when no valuable or truthful fact has been communicated, a person might still tend to consider this line of communication because it's anomalous. And as much as pressure and circumstances necessitate resolution, this other unresolved line of communication could intermittently supplant a healthy objective focused reception over time, especially when neither provide the truth that is sought and as much as the unresolved line of communication exponentially transmits more than the traditional one...so much so that the method of communicating even when it hasn't ever yielded any worthwhile transmission or actual truth--a transmission that justifies the inefficiency of that transmission method--can become the default of considering a statement to be true. Sarcasm can be employed as a way to overstate the soundness of a realization, but it's also employed in this way as a failsafe for an underwhelming attempt to actually deter that line of thinking or a check for not understanding the context of a statement, until it can detect some level of conviction, some physiological affirmation of truth. It seems to reference a library of sensations that correlate to ideas especially the most oft thought ideas and the phrases that normally follow, for instance, if a neuro-physiological, physiological or kinesiological sensation were indicating a relinquishing of a hold, a preparation for engagement, an oft repeated follow on statement might be, 'Oh, she's lovely!' What this system seems to accomplish is a speedy recognition of which phrases are more likely to correlate to these near-involuntary sensations or impulses to express something. But it takes moment-to-moment cues from those sensations, and mirrors those for as much as they can ascertain which phrase is most apt for a sensation or a pertinent reference, so an expedient copy of that process. So now it could be that there's an urgency, as far as the operation of this goes that places a premium on speed at the points that would most render an intercepted phrase-sensation correlation turned phrase spoken before a subject could speak it, a considered instant-recall of a shared cultural or personal content reference. And in cases when this is not the case and there is an actual working library of specific stored personal official--or cultural content that a person or a machine would know--something different might be taking place: There could be a group of subjects subject to the same forced second presence or transmission, let's say for instance if there was some way someone would benefit from a reduction in the quality of faculties, the ability to reason, moment to moment, a machine might know to monitor a group with the same working algorithm that conditionally specifies a library of content as it's associated with a specific identifier, e.g. metadata that's known to have been communicated in a particular way that's different from other metadata, and has been recorded, too. This second presence hypothetically would continue in this way until the subject would give in to a new aversion to the optimal function of his faculties, or otherwise would be dulled by that presence as much as that would negate the edge that comes from singular independent pursuit. But by this way, the use of conditional attention, a group of reasonable people could reasonably conclude an algorithm is personally addressing them, especially if it employs super-fast infinitesimally precise operations that react to neuro-physiological, physiological, and kinesiological sensations with unendingly increasing accuracy.  Seems to match image to impulse in the same way it adjusts to the evolution of cord vibration states, so that a nerve signal is intercepted or induced in some way, and an image is produced that most likely correlates to that signal, where there's is no overriding context and instruction for movement, as instantaneous as possible, there seems to be a system for approximating intended motion as those intentions develop. Today is the furthest this transmission has gone in making what had, up until now, clearly been a second presence, less clearly that. So like each morning when my consciousness is increasingly less clearly mine, as that has to be called into question more and more, most of  my internal voice, where preparatory-speech would be allowed to continue a teased out freedom of voiced-contemplation, to a degree, automatic voice, to the same extent like the way I had drawn--my voice as a check on the state of my thinking and an easy commentary is given no other options than, like I said before, the most undesirable thoughts and impulses--not in a understandable way, the way we all know how inhibitions can be a hobgoblin amidst freedoms and social norms, customs and virtuousness, the way, for instance the behavior of a criminal-sexual-minority has to be rationalized by somebody somewhere, and therefore that person or persons might be subject to considering what it must be like to be that and that they must know to stop at some point in that contemplation or consideration as much as it seems to grant them permission to behave that way, but a forced result, and not strictly that, a reverse of a pole, an electromagnetic switch for the wrong way to be, but a particular chain of thought that's never been quite that way, so I can't conclude it's just an underlying egotism awry in a functional way--explainable, but sadly control-lost in that respect, at the helm of subconscious-will to speech and imagery. And though it might seem like a strangely tedious thing to keep track of, the inner-workings of the mind at rest, too often in those under-reasoned areas of our union, truth is architecture not enquiry, so, for instance, for a once told fib--especially a damaging one, a social-snuff, that begs to be reconsidered by the subject it damages--it might be the interest of a person or consortium--where later perhaps the evolution of data-consideration-thus-qualitative-information-refinement leaves a past-case bare--to dress the elements of truth, not what would ever be admissible in a reasonable court, but what might make a court not consider reopening a case, or what would possibly make a judging person reason with a caveat in mind, for a hidden truth, objectivity only as that, an adherence that would render that quality, objectivity, stale, to finish a case in a way that might only readily be seen as rightful, the way we know a defending army mostly would need to be lethal. This seems to be a running theme these days, an external and internal conditioning, for instance, a person's ethical foundation, a sense of morality, forcibly deconstructed, the external factors that describe how a person is, fabricated; the elements of many multiple layers of particular truths manipulated to fuel belief of the validity of the most socially-maligned kinds of wrongdoings; and the internal facts of a person, bodily, psychologically, what can't be refuted by most people who think that way, that what seems to more tedious to bother sabotaging than it's worth, to them, is probably that way for everyone all of the time, and therefore the same requirements for belief should remain for the weightiest decisions and cases.

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Copyright King Ball Media. 2021. All Rights Reserved.

[mypearchive]

PHILIP ETTINGER
                                                                                     in HBO Series I Know This Much Is True


PHOTOGRAPHY Mark Squires FASHION EDITOR Deborah Ferguson 
Interview by Sydney Nash


Philip Ettinger is an American actor, whose credits include starring alongside Ethan Hawke and Amanda Seyfried in “First Reformed” and “The Evening Hour,” which debuted at this year’s Sundance Film Festival. Ettinger’s most recent project is HBO’s “I Know This Much is True,” helmed by director Derek Cianfrance and starring Mark Ruffalo. Based on Wally Lamb’s acclaimed novel by the same name, it tells the story of the complicated relationship of two brothers (twins), one of which lives with paranoid schizophrenia. Ruffalo stars as the older iteration of the twins, while Ettinger inhabits the two characters in their youth. ContentMode spoke to the actor about the limited series and arguably, his best performance yet. 


Q: Before we dive into questions about I Know This Much Is True, I must first say, bravo. This show is visceral, heart-wrenching, and achingly beautiful. It was a very emotional experience watching, I must say. I’m curious as to the type of feedback you’ve been hearing from viewers and the people around you about the show. 


A: Thanks for saying that. This project is so close to my heart. It felt super emotional shooting it… it’s been really special. You know we’re going through such a fucking crazy time right now. You make a thing and have that whole experience of shooting it, and then you never really know how it might connect in the time of when it’s finally released. When I’m working on something, I’m so much in the state of not even thinking of it as being a product. Then, when it’s time for it to come out, it’s a bit of a mind fuck and scary.  And this in particular was such a vulnerable experience. Everyone gave so much of their heart to it. It’s being released in a really crazy and heavy time, and the show deals with a lot of real and heavy things. But what’s been amazing is the people who have reached out to me to tell me how important it’s been to them. And how much of an emotional balm it’s been. People have vulnerably shared with me how this show has made them feel less alone in their own unique situations and emotions. Honestly, it’s been fucking beautiful to see how much we all can relate and share in the really difficult work of being a human being.


We’re all connected. It’s been a nice reminder for me personally in this isolating time of quarantine.


Q: Tell me about how this role came about. I know you’ve been a long admirer of Mark Ruffalo’s work, so this must have been a dream project.


A: The whole thing just feels kind of kismet. One day, I get a random email from a friend of mine who was going in to audition for young Dessa (younger Kathryn Hahn). This was before I really knew anything about it. She forwarded me her appointment with the script and said, “You should be young Dominick/Thomas.” All of young Dessa’s scenes were with young Dominick/Thomas, so I was able to see what it was like.


I’ve always looked up to Mark and have been compared to him in the past. I even wrote him a letter when I was in acting school and doing This Is Our Youth, which was the play he did in New York, and I expressed to him how much I connect to his work. He was doing Awake and Sing! on Broadway at the time and I went to see the play and gave him the letter. On top of that, I grew up with a brother who dealt with schizophrenic symptoms. I felt a really strong purpose to tell this story as real and accurately as possible. It’s rare when it happens, but sometimes things come along where it’s much deeper than it just being a job. The purpose for doing it is so strong and instinctual that I’m able to move through any fears or insecurities to do it. I went into this audition with a really strong sense that I was the person who was meant to help tell this story.


Q: Did you and Mark ever prep for the role together? I’ve read that you and him took a long walk around the Upper West Side before shooting started.


A: Yeah we did. The way it worked was Mark shot all of Dominick first and then took a month and a half off to gain about 50 pounds in order to play Thomas. During that time off is when I shot most of my stuff. We would text back and forth with ideas and before shooting began we hung out and read each other’s scenes together. Then Mark went off to shoot his Dominick side. Derek Cianfrance our director showed me a bunch of Mark’s dailies for me to kind of get a sense of what Mark was doing with Dominick, but when it came to Thomas, I was the first one to introduce what he’d be like. It was fucking scary because I wanted to be as instinctual as possible and to make my own unique choices. At the same time, I didn’t want to paint Mark into a corner because he’d have to evolve whatever I was doing into older Thomas.

About a week before I went to shoot, I met Mark on the Upper West Side at a diner. We talked for hours. I had been waiting in the wings for months, getting ready to take over when he took his break. I can be a pretty obsessive thinker, so at that point, I was pretty much bursting holding these two distinctly different characters inside of me, ready to express myself and let my Dominick and Thomas out. At the same time, I was absolutely terrified because the thing I’d been obsessing about and literally having intense symbolic dreams about was finally going to happen. Mark encouraged me to make it my own, and on the way out of the diner, I started to tell him about these crazy and intense dreams I was having that were kind of informing me who these guys were. He said, “I’ve been having dreams too. Let’s take a walk,” and then we just walked like 50 city blocks. We were just meshing our energies, ideas and physicalities, as well as sharing stories and quickly connecting on a really vulnerable level to each other. We were having very similar dreams. It was crazy and beautiful and a night I’ll always remember. Talking about it now makes me yearn to get back into more collaborative experiences again.


Q: If you don’t mind me asking, how emotionally intense was performing the roles of both Dominick and Thomas? Did you find one character more challenging than the other and were you able to separate the two performances, or were they always informing the other?

A: It’s hard to really describe it using words. The whole thing was one big instinctual and emotional experiment. It was kind of impossible to anticipate the best way to make it all work.

First day was completely trial and error. Mark shot each character separately with a lot of time apart, but I was having to do every scene going back and forth. The whole thing was very out of body and cathartic. Or more like in my body and out of my head.


It’s interesting, I’ve been doing therapy in quarantine and have worked a bit with childhood regression exercises and going back to a time when I was four or five. I’ll go back on impulse and really connect to the feelings I was feeling without too much awareness of social rules and insecurities and ideas of how I needed to be and act. Then, doing the same thing, but going back to the thirteen year old version of me, who at that point had been knocked around a bit and was very insecure and shut down and scared and had less trust and freedom of emotion. Both of them are very alive inside of me. Shooting every scene, I’d be Dominick and feel really repressed and kind of locked up and angry and insecure in my feelings. Then when I’d switch over to Thomas, I got to rip off the shield and filter that I’ve created to personally protect myself in my life and just feel my feelings and pain and fear and anger and fully be on my impulse in a safe environment. It was freeing and painful and blissful, and all of the feelings. I gave myself permission not to judge myself. Then, I’d go back into Dominick and the shield went back up. It was a lot of back and forth of that.


Honestly, it’s impossible to really explain it in retrospect. It was like one giant therapeutic experiment. It definitely changed me and gave me some different perspectives.


Q: Did you ever feel like your acting influenced Mark’s performance or vice versa?


A: It felt like one ongoing collaboration. We were taking from each other from the preparation through the shooting. But there was an ease to it all, which just shows how generous Mark is as a human being and artist. He didn’t have to invite me in the way he did. I’m very grateful for that.


Q: What was it like working with director Derek Cianfrance? Did Derek allow you to bring your own experiences and POV to your characters?


A: Derek is my emotional soul brother. The guy has so much fucking heart and just sets up an atmosphere of trust and love and challenges you to go deeper than any ideas you may have and to find the truth of every moment. He wants you to bring all of your heart and soul to the part. He’s done so much work and has thought so deeply about the characters and the scenes, but then challenges and almost expects you to surprise him. It’s all about, as he says, ‘trying to capture Halley’s Comet in every scene.’ Something that’s straight from impulse and truth and surprising and spontaneous and can never be exactly recreated. It’s all a big experiment and diving into the truth of every dynamic and relationship.

That’s exactly the way I love to work, so it was just a fucking dream to play like that.


But in order to work at that level, you need to have such trust in the leader and it needs to be such a safe environment. With Derek, I just felt so safe.


Q: Tell me a little bit about how filming two characters on-screen at the same time worked. How much of what the audience sees when Dominick and Thomas are together is CGI?


A: It’s crazy. The editing is incredible. Other than a few connecting shots, many of the scenes the two brothers are never in the same shot together. I think Derek wanted to make it feel as natural and un-CGI as possible, so he relied on the performances to connect the dots. The response has been that it feels pretty seamless and not a distraction, which is great to hear. We all definitely tried to avoid the trick of it all and really cared about making each brother his own three dimensional being.


Q: The show was shot on film as compared to digitally. What’s the difference that shooting on film makes to the final product and the audience experience?


A: It’s awesome. It was my first time shooting on film. There’s a heightened intensity to it all, because there’s a limited amount of time before the film rolls out. It’s exciting. I tend to work best and am able to commit more when adrenaline is a little higher and there’s a little more pressure. There’s also something more tactile about it all. It feels more activated and felt like we were shooting a movie instead of a TV show.


Q: I’ve read in other interviews where you’ve spoken about how your relationship with your own brother (who has a history with schizophrenic symptoms) influenced your performance. Can you tell me a little bit about this (if you don’t mind sharing)? How important was authenticity to you?


A: My brother is doing great now. It’s amazing. But there was a long time when I was growing up where he was suffering. I watched him struggle through a lot of thoughts and emotions inside of his head. On the flip side, he was probably the most honest, empathetic and connected-to-the-energy-around-him person that I knew. And has deeply affected how I see things in a really special way. I also watched my parents try and understand and protect and deal with it and help. And do the best that they possibly could under the circumstances. They were amazing. But I also watched them struggle and make questionable decisions in order to help in the only ways they knew how. I was also having my own experience.


What was so important to me about this show was to be able to express all sides of the situation and the nuance to it all. Often, when there’s mental illness in a family, everyone is doing the best that they can with the tools that they have. Sometimes the “crazy” one is the most tapped in and actually present and intuitive and available. Sometimes the ones, who on the surface have their shit together, have no idea what they are doing.


I think this was a way for me to express myself and better understand what repressed feelings I had having a brother with mental illness. One thing’s for certain: I don’t think anyone involved was interested in anything but navigating the truths and realities of these situations.


Q: Based on your own experiences with your brother, the director Derek added in a scene to one of the episodes. Can you elaborate on what this scene was?


A: Yeah, I told Derek a bunch of stories about me and my brother. There was a period of time when he was around 22 and in the midst of a mental break. I was around 9, and we shared a room. Some of the stories were scary, but a lot of them were really funny and beautiful. I observed my brother be so present and tapped in to the energy and people around him. Sometimes his thoughts would get away from him, but almost always, the impulse of the thought and the intuition he would have was so on point. It made me feel like he was often more present and truthful and sane than so many other people around me who seemed to be repressing, overlooking and complying to the rules of society and the pressures of fitting in and saying and doing the right and popular thing. I felt like he really took me in and saw me better than anyone else.


I told Derek about how often my brother’s energy felt so expansive and truthful to his feelings that it would be infectious to the people around him and magical to me. And then Derek added a scene in episode 4 where Thomas is feeling a lot of emotions and the best way he’s able to express himself is through unadulterated dance. It’s a moment that Dominick watches on and knows he’d never be able to be so free in his emotions to express himself like that. [Derek] told me he added that scene inspired by the stories I told him about my brother.


Q: At its core, the show is about the relationship between two brothers, but the show touches on so many different enduring themes. What about the story speaks most strongly to you?


A: We’re all trying to get through life in the best ways that we know how. We all have unique family situations, life expectations, and struggles and pains on different levels. The show and Wally Lamb’s novel just touches on what it’s like to be human and the possibility for growth and change when it may feel like it’s impossible. As he says, “But what are our stories if not the mirrors we hold up to our fears.” And another quote that seems to resonate more than ever: “With destructions comes renovations.”


Q: You must be very proud of this show and the reception it’s receiving. How did you feel seeing the finished product?


A: It feels a little surreal to watch. It’s hard for me to fully take in my own stuff or to judge it good and bad, but what I will say is that there’s so much heart in the show and I’m forever proud and grateful to be a part of it. And to watch Mark and Rosie and Kathryn and John and Melissa and Archie and everyone else and feel so connected to them. And to have my family watch it and have it inspire new conversations between us. It feels very healing in a lot of ways. 


Q: Moving forward, what types of roles are you hoping to pursue? What’s the most important aspect of a project to you?


A: I don’t really know. I want to continue to work with people who inspire me and to feel a purpose with what I’m doing beyond ego and expectation. And to keep doing stuff that really scares me and to ultimately just find things that will help me evolve and gain some different perspectives. To continue to do things that make me feel connected and out of my own head.

I’ve been lucky to be a part of a few things where everyone involved is connected and on the same page and doing it for the right reasons, and the material is strong and every once in a while, when all those stars are aligned you can have moments of transcendence absent of ego and fear and judgement and you’re just riding on your impulse and intuition and heart. I want to keep chasing that.


Q: With the world in the midst of a pandemic and social unrest, what are you most hopeful for?


A: How connected we all really are even though the world feels divided right now. There’s so much pain and fear and anger right now, but there’s also a lot of change happening. And beauty. If there’s any silver lining to all of this loss, pain and suffering, I think it’s that it’s forced us to be more present with our families and loved ones. And maybe break some habits that we’d never be able to break on our own. And slowed things down a bit. And forced us all to look inward and to take a pause from all the fast and constant external validation so many of us think we want or need. I’ve witnessed thousands of people coming together to support each other and to stand up to injustice. This time has been traumatic on many levels for everyone, and I’m sure there will be long term effects of that, but also I’m excited to see the positive effects and positive changes this time may cause. In a way, it felt like we needed a bit of a reset and recalibration to really make some changes.

Quick Qs


Q: If you weren’t an actor, what would you be?

A: Maybe a therapist? I’m endlessly fascinated in why people do what they do and how they do it. And don’t do things. And why. And the relationship between our conscious and unconscious bodies and minds. And the potential of evolving our thought patterns past or through our blocks and pain and traumas. I’ve also spent a lot of time working one-on-one with autistic kids and adults, so maybe that. Something to do with human behavior and connection and growth and expression. Or if I was taller and more athletically gifted, it would be pretty damn cool to be an NBA basketball player.


Q: Role model?


A: Literally anyone who’s able to get through life with continued kindness, open-heartedness, positivity and evolution.

Q: Pet peeve?

A: People giving advice to other people based on what they would want or how they would act or react, instead of taking in the other person’s perspective.

Q: Most slept-on movie?


A: This is not particularly slept on, but this conversation and question is making me think of The Devil and Daniel Johnston. 


Q: The last thing you binged?


A: I’m a novice TV watcher. This past year and during quarantine is the first time I’ve really caught up on shows. Recently I’ve gone through Mad Men, The Affair – Maura Tierney’s so good in that. I just watched Normal People. I thought Paul Mescal was such a subtle and good actor in that. Oh, and In Treatment. I love In Treatment. I just heard that they may be bringing it back, which is exciting to hear. The nuances of two people in a room talking for a long time really does it for me.


Q: Dream role?


A: Hamlet? Even though that scares the shit out of me and seems to be a cliche’d answer for an actor my age.

Q: What’s the best advice you’ve ever received?


A: To try easier. It’s not necessarily the amount of time spent working, but more the quality and headspace of that time. 
Also, to stop trying to control the outcome of what and how I think I want something to go. Because guaranteed it won’t go exactly as planned and trying to force what I think is the best thing is quantifying and limiting the possibilities of what it could be. 
And something that I saved that Mark actually said to me:
  Hang tough, stay real, make your shots count when you get them and no matter what, keep moving. Just keep moving.


_______________________________________________


For remaining photographs from the Content Mode article, scroll down to the next post. 


(I am archiving this entire article here, because I have no idea whether or not the Content Mode site will continue to host the Ettinger interview in the future, as more is published there in time. No copyright infringement is intended.)

[pneumasthesia]

Epilogue

Epilogue

 “Hey, kid! Your time’s up. Get out so the real psychologists can use the room” says a mildly annoyed voice from outside the room.

“Yes, yes, yes, of course. Just give us a moment and we’ll be right out” responds the therapist, with more than a mild tone of annoyance.

“Come on, sleeping beauty, we’re going to have to end the show here and get out now” he says, shaking awake the middle-aged woman passed out on a reclining chair in front of him.

“Ugh, just when I had started to have an actually restful sleep. How annoying” the culprit sleepily responds.

“Oh, so you were actually sleeping this time” the therapist exclaims with further growing annoyance, “I had thought you were having another trip, but now that you’re done with that you’re just trying to fool me into letting you off any further examination, isn’t that right?”

“Obviously. I just relived the most traumatic moment in my life, of course I’d want a rest afterwards” she answers while getting off the chair to leave the examination room.

“That’s all well and good for you” says the therapist, his annoyance reaching its peak, “but some of us here have research to do and precious little time to get it done.”

“Don’t worry ‘Pet’, I’m not going anywhere” the culprit reassures, “I’ll surely be in this psychiatric ward for the rest of my life.”

The patient and doctor-to-be walk down the psych ward’s hallways, passing by patients and therapists alike on their way back to the culprit’s room.

“That’s exactly why I have to rush” the therapist says, a note of faint concern in his tone, “don’t you want to see the other pneumasthetes again?”

“Is that the name you’ve given us sufferers?” the culprit questions, “you’ve really taken to continuing the old man’s research, even using the same name for the disorder.”

“I may not have liked his methods or his reasons, but his hypotheses are still worth considering” Pet answers somewhat defensively, “besides, those theories of his are just as much mine.”

“Hmm? What do you mean? You came up with that fantastical theory?” the culprit says.

“I wouldn’t say it’s all that fantastical” the therapist explains, “given that it’s based on experience.”

The culprit suddenly halts her advance down the psych ward hallway and turns back to her therapist, mouth agape.

“You have pneumasthesia too?” she exclaims.

“Of course” Pet answers matter-of-factly, “you’ve seen through my eyes, I mean walked in my shoes, you must have noticed that.”

“I thought that those were my abilities” the culprit says with some degree of embarrassment.

“But you’ve never experienced those things before, have you?” the therapist questions, “from what I’ve gathered your particular type of pneumasthesia is based around seeing people as stock personality archetypes, whereas mine manifests as ‘seeing’ people’s current thoughts and emotions.”

The culprit starts walking again, deep in thought. Eventually she speaks up, “but that doesn’t explain what I experienced. I saw the thoughts and emotions that other people had in the past. Neither of our abilities can do that.”

“It’s not accurate to call our conditions ‘abilities’” the therapist explains, “if you talk about pneumasthesia like that, the other psychologists will discount my research as nonsensical postulating about ESP.”

“Is that not what it is?” the culprit rudely interjects.

“Hurtful, but not true this time” the therapist says with an amused chuckle, “from what little research I have been able to do, I can say with some certainty that there is a mostly logical explanation for everything we have experienced.”

“’Mostly, huh? Very well then, explain it to me, Professor” the culprit says with a wide smirk.

The therapist returns the smirk and begins “well, surely you remember the late Professor’s explanation?”

“Yes, empathy is supposedly a sixth sense all people possess and, in some people, these ‘pneumasthetes’, that sense becomes conflated with another sense” the culprit continues.

“Quite right” the therapist congratulates with the tone of a kind teacher, “in some cases, that is. For example, that young man had his personal empathic judgement of other people’s personalities conflated with his ability to perceive color.”

“Only his own judgement of personalities?” the culprit asks, “I thought empathy was some sort of secret infallible sense, not something that subjective.”

“No. Like I said, there is nothing fantastical about this condition” answers the therapist, “a less charitable psychologist may simply disregard that young man’s ‘powers’ as hallucinations since they are only based off how he subjectively views other people.”

He continues with his explanation “that is why he was unable to tell two people that he perceived as ‘Green’ apart. After you, the great blue ocean that you are, had a sudden change of heart, he perceived your ‘soul’ as that of a different person, due to his flawed judgement of your surface-level change in persona.”

“Hmm, alright, but that still doesn’t change why he couldn’t tell us apart without his color-personality hallucinations” the culprit says, “It’s not like he was blind as well.”

“Not blind, but face-blind” the therapist says.

“What?” the culprit says incredulously.

“It’s called Prosopagnosia. He generally just tells people apart by their hair, height, and clothes, but since you and the older man were similar in those regards, he had to rely on your colors to tell you apart” the therapist says, “it took a lot of testing to convince him that he had that condition. He was so adamant on insisting that he was ‘normal’.”

“Huh, so even he had a condition like that” the culprit says, contemplatively, “what about the others. What about that girl?”

“Her?” the therapist says, caught by surprise for a moment before beginning to smile at the culprit’s touching concern, “her condition is much simpler, she was highly empathic and sensed her exceedingly accurate judgements of people’s personalities as noise. It should have been a very easy condition to diagnose, but her Schizophrenic auditory hallucinations somewhat complicated my analysis.”

“Schizophrenia” the culprit muses, “I had thought her condition was more like mine, but that makes more sense.”

The therapist lets out a good-natured laugh, “well there was certainly something about you that made her open up to you more quickly than anyone else. It took me at least a dozen meetings to get her to speak. She just kept having those panic attacks whenever I was nearby.”

The culprit lets out a mocking laugh, “that’s to be expected. You try to pretend that you’re extremely empathic and all that, but deep down you’re just an awkward little kid.”

The culprit quickly transitions into another line of questioning, “speaking of awkward children, what about that strange older man?”

“Wow, that was extremely rude” the therapist notes, “it’s a good thing he’s not here so I don’t have to lie and tell you that your judgement is false. His condition is a little bit more complex. His sense of empathy is crossed with the part of his brain that recognizes quantities of objects.”

“Counting is its own sense?” asks the culprit, “I didn’t know that.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s a sense per say” the therapist explains, “that’s why I said that the Professor’s explanation was incomplete. From what I’ve seen Pneumasthesia can include the crossing of empathy with less straightforward neurological processes.”

“Is that the reason why his judgement of other people was so flawed?” the culprit asks, “he even thought that I was kind and ‘complete’ or some nonsense like that.”

“I wouldn’t say that particular judgement of his was entirely wrong” the therapist says with a smile, “the fact that he is on the autism spectrum is probably the reason for his somewhat, let’s go with ‘awkward’ empathic senses.”

“Autism?” exclaims the culprit, nearly tripping on the stairs as the two pneumasthetes walk up them to her room, “that makes sense, but I wouldn’t have expected it from the way he acted.”

“Me neither” the therapist laughs to himself, and at himself, “I feel ashamed as a psychologist to have been so closeminded as to think that someone so functional in social situations couldn’t be autistic. He was simply well adjusted to working with his condition.”

The culprit is silent for a bit, reevaluating her judgement of the older man, before speaking up, “and what about that old lady? What was her deal?”

“Her ‘deal’, as you put it so crudely, is memory loss” the therapist answers.

“And what about her type of pneumasthesia?” the culprit probes.

“She didn’t have it, at least I’d wouldn’t say so from what I gathered” the therapist says with a shrug, “the Professor misdiagnosed her. These things happen.”

“Oh” the culprit ruminates on this thought before realizing something and speaking up, “wait, but what about yours and my conditions? That’s what I was asking about at the start and you didn’t answer.”

“Yes, yes, yes, of course. I was getting to that” the therapist says with a laugh, “I was just taking my time to ease into that whole complex affair.”

The therapist takes a deep breath as the two reach the floor that the culprit’s room is on, then begins his explanation, “my condition is fairly simple to explain because it’s the basis for the initial theory that guided the Professor’s research after he examined me. My sense of empathy is crossed with the part of my brain that recognizes visual information, but because my eyes do not function due to a birth defect, that part of my brain works entirely on processing empathic information, causing me to ‘see’ people’s thoughts and emotions with great clarity.”

“That’s basically what I figured that it was” the culprit says, “but you would only be able to see people’s current thoughts, right? How does that lead to seeing people’s memories?”

“That’s where your peculiar condition comes in” the therapist says, “I theorize that your sense of empathy, that being your subjective judgement of other people’s personalities, has been crossed with your long-term memory.”

The culprit appears befuddled by this explanation, “what exactly does that mean?”

“It means that when you first see a person, you judge them as possessing a particular set of personality traits, you then associate those traits with a familiar personality archetype in your head” the therapist theorizes, “in your case people are conflated with the archetypal Arcana of the Tarot.”

“So in simple terms, it’s a crossing of memory and empathy” the culprit suggests.

“Yes, you could say that” the therapist says.

“And you said it’s based off my ‘subjective judgement’, not anything more concrete than that” the culprit says.

“Yes, it’s no different than that young man’s condition” the therapist agrees, “well there is one difference, because this condition causes you to associate people you’ve just met with familiar archetypes, it causes you to falsely assume familiarity with people, potentially leading to an inflated sense of your own accuracy in your judgement of people’s personalities.”

The culprit gives a sharp laugh in response to this statement, “well, if you put it like that, it can hardly be considered a superpower at all, it’s basically a curse!”

The therapist does not smile in response to this self-deprecation, “I wouldn’t say it’s bad exactly. It’s just a different way to see the world.”

The culprit turns her head away from her therapist, “you are nice, you know that. Saying these things to me even after what I’ve done. Calling me a man and all that.”

“You may be a murderer, but your life is still your own” the therapist states without hesitating, “you should be able to enjoy it however you are able and make your own choices about how you want to spend it, and who you want to spend it being, so of course I’ll support your transition.”

The culprit turns his head back to his therapist, a wry smile on his effeminate face, “you’re sure that you don’t want to diagnose me with some sort of self-hating delusion? Something to do with my bipolar personality disorder, or whatever they call it?”

The therapist returns his patient’s mocking smirk, “it doesn’t matter if you believe you’re a man because you’re crazy or not. If it makes you happy, and you’re not hurting anyone, it’s not my job to tell you what to do.”

The duo begins to laugh to themselves as they stand in front of the entrance to the culprit’s room. The culprit stands with his back to the closed door, clearly not wanting to retreat to his quarters alone again.

After a moment of contemplation, the culprit speaks up, “so I know what my condition is, but how did that whole ‘memory trip’ thing happen?”

The therapist turns away for a moment and speaks with less confidence than usual, “I’m not fully sure in this case. That one was a first for me too. I just had a theory that if the two of us stimulated our empathy and memories with a few pointed questions, that something potentially therapeutic might happen. I can’t be sure that what I experienced was the same as what you experienced, but I have a vague idea as to why it happened.”

The therapist continues, “my condition causes me to perceive the emotions or others as if they were my own vision, and your condition causes you to perceive the emotions of others as part of your memory, so perhaps when the two of us began to look into each other’s heads, the thoughts of others and your memories were temporarily entangled, causing us to witness the memories of other people.”

“That seems like a leap of logic” the culprit says, “something like definitely sounds like Sci-fi nonsense. It’s not like either of us ever witnessed those memories ourselves, so how could they have been in our heads?”

“I don’t think those were anyone’s memories” the therapist says, “I think they might have been our own fabrications of what we thought their memories might have been.”

The culprit stares back at his therapist incredulously, “you mean that those things we witnessed were not the truth, that we just made them all up and thought they were other people’s memories?”

“Perhaps” the therapist reluctantly says.

The culprit slumps back on the door, “you’re telling me that none of that was what really happened?”

“No” the therapist answers, “but just because it was not true, doesn’t mean it can’t be useful to believe in it.”

The culprit answers back, “how can a lie help me understand the truth of myself any better?”

The therapist takes a long pause, contemplating how to say this, and finally speaks “all observation is a lie that our brains tell us. We have no way to know if our experience of the world is true, so all people experience their own false truth. I think that we should be allowed to believe in whatever lie about reality helps us live better.”

“I refuse to live a life built on a lie” the culprit states flatly.

The therapist looks disappointed, but not surprised, “I understand, but I think that lie did do good for you.” The culprit looks away, unwilling to admit to it. The therapist continues, “please, just think about it.”

The culprit does not respond, taking a long moment to sort through his thoughts. He doesn’t seem to come to a conclusion, and simply pushes those thoughts aside before saying, “so tell me, what actually happened, in the objective reality?”

The therapist gives a sad smile and begins to recount the “true” story of events, “what actually happened was that after we discovered the body, the police were called over and all of the people present were taken under custody for questioning. I was suspected at first, but suspicion was quickly dropped after it was discovered that I was blind. The investigation took quite a while, but after some handprint analysis on bloodstains found on the gun and the determination that you had Bipolar Personality Disorder, you were charged with the crime.”

“What does me being bipolar have to do with anything?” the culprit asks.

The therapist sighs, digging up unpleasant memories, “that investigation was not pretty. The police interrogated all the guests rather forcefully. Everyone present was considered guilty until proven innocent owing to their mental illnesses. The detectives in charge thought that any one of us could have been a psychopathic murderer. When they finally determined you to possess violent mood swings, they indicted you without any further investigation.”

“Are you saying that I may not have killed the Professor” the culprit questions, a faint note of hope in his voice.

“Do you truly not remember at all what happened in that room on that night?” the therapist asks.

“No” the culprit answers, “it’s all just a blur. It frightened me, thinking what I might have done in that moment.”

“You must have had some selective memory loss” the therapist postulates, “perhaps by separating your memory of yourself from your own personal memory, you constructed an archetypal personality distinct from yourself that you could blame for your own past actions.”

The culprit looks away from his therapist, ashamed. The therapist puts his hand on his patient’s shoulder, having to reach up quite a distance to do so, “it must have been an unconscious self-defense mechanism. Something like that is very common among sufferers of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I’d know, I’ve had a lot of experience working with that condition.”

“Don’t tell me that you’re about to admit to having that condition too?” the culprit jokes.

“No, no, no” the therapist laughs, “but a previous patient of mine that you might know quite well did. One of my responsibilities as his assistant was to help him deal with his condition and calm him down when it flared up.”

The culprit is incredulous once again, “you mean to say that the Professor had PTSD? Is that why he shot at that girl in such a panic?”

“I believe so” the therapist says with a sigh, “his symptoms were very severe: hallucinations, panic attacks, violent tendencies. That wasn’t the first time that he’d struck out at some ghost of his mind’s invention, neither was it the last.”

“What do you mean?” the culprit asks.

“At the scene of the crime” the therapist hesitates, then speaks, “there were signs of a struggle.”

“What? I don’t remember any struggle.” The culprit says, realization beginning to dawn on him.

“From investigation that was done after the case was laid to rest, evidence was found that may suggest that the Professor was the one who attacked first, not you” the therapist says, looking his patient straight in the eye, at least as accurately as he can manage.

“You mean…” the culprit slides down the door he is leaning against and crumples down to the floor, “I killed him in self-defense?!”

“It is possible” the therapist says, “he was in a dangerous state of mind. Seeing you enter with a gun, he may have attacked you, and in the confusion, you may have accidentally ended his life without having truly intended to from the start. After a traumatic experience like that, you could have shut away that memory and convinced yourself that killing the Professor was not a mistake made in the heat of the moment, but a calculated plot from the beginning.”

The culprit holds his knees close to his chest and chuckles a bit to himself, “that seems like something I’d do. Even in a time like that, I couldn’t admit to myself that I could have made a mistake. That is some seriously destructive self-love.”

“Perhaps it was done out of self-hate, not self-love” the therapist suggests. The culprit stops laughing at this suggestion and looks away.

The two are silent for a long few seconds. Then, the therapist reaches his hand down to his patient to help him get up. As soon as he does this, the culprit stand up on his own, a smile having erased all other emotion that was on his face before.

“One last question” he blurts out, “I never got your name. What is it, in full?”

The therapist is taken aback, for numerous reasons, “I could have sworn that I introduced myself properly when we started the therapy session today.”

“You probably did, but I didn’t pay attention” the culprit says without any shame, “so tell me it again.”

The therapist seems mildly offended but shakes it off and says, “Peter Eric Tomas-Jacobs, that’s my full name.”

“Doesn’t that make your initials PETJ?” the culprit questions, “I thought you were the ‘PET’.”

“Well, at the time that we first met, my name was only Peter Eric Tomas” Peter answers, “the second family name is a recent addition.”

The culprit stares blankly as he ponders why this could be, before suddenly realizing. He shouts out, “y-y-you mean that you got married?”

Peter places his hand over his patient’s mouth to prevent the sound from traveling through the echoing psych ward hallway and says, “quiet down! I can’t let anyone else know that I’m married. The people here don’t even know that I have a boyfriend.”

The culprit looks more incredulous than he’s been throughout his entire pseudo-psychic mind-trip. His mouth is so agape beneath his therapists’ hand that he almost accidentally bites down on that hand. Eventually he whispers, “you swing that way?”

Peter gives a big smile, “yes, of course I’m into men, why do you think that I was flirting with you before?”

“So you were flirting with me!” the culprit shouts out and then realizes how loud he is being and shuts his own mouth.

“Of course not. I’m a happy newlywed, even if the two of us haven’t gotten the union properly officiated. Besides, if me and you were together than I’d be Mr. Tomas-Rider, which is a name I don’t like nearly as much, though when I do get my doctorate, Dr. Rider would be a pretty cool name” Peter muses to himself, “oh that reminds me, you probably don’t go by Regina anymore, so what should I call you now? Wait, let me guess … Reginald is your new name, right?”

“I go by Rex” says the culprit.

“Like, the dog name?” says Peter, now his turn to be incredulous.

“I think it’s a cool name, Rex Rider” the culprit chuckles to himself with unabashed pride, “it struck fear in the hearts of all the girls I faced in the ring when I was in prison.”

“Oh right, I do remember that in your file” Peter says, “you were the undefeated boxing champ at the woman’s prison. The resident therapist at that prison wrote about it as evidence of your ‘persistent innate violent tendencies’.”

“It’s not my fault if I’m good at being a boxer” the culprit says, pride not fading one bit, “I have the physique of a natural-born man and all the time in the world to train. I just wish I could have some opponents more my size.”

Peter smiles at that, happy that his patient has some hopes for the future, no matter how small, “if I can prove to the world that your condition is real and not just some dangerous hallucination, then you might be able to get out of this place and do some real boxing.”

The culprit smiles, joy and melancholy both mixed in his expression, before turning away, opening the door to his quarters and entering, “then I’ll be waiting for you, as long as necessary, my savior.”

Peter looks blankly down at his toes, smiling the same smile, “you might have to wait for a while yet, maybe longer than a lifetime.”

The culprit’s expression does not change, “That’s fine. I expected that, but I’m glad you’re trying, for everyone’s sake.”

The culprit suddenly turns back, startling his “savior”, and says “there’s one more thing that I want to tell you?”

Peter answers back in an apprehensive tone, “what is it?”

“I just need to get this off my chest?”

“Yes?”

“I need to tell you how I feel.”

“You feel …”

“I… I…”

“…”

“I really don’t like you.”

“I could say the same thing.”

“Then go on and say it, right to my face.”

“I absolutely despise you.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“But it’s what you meant.”

“You know me so well. That’s definitely what I hate the most about you.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

“I hope I never see you again.”

“I wish for the same, but it seems that we can’t be rid of each other that easily.”

“What a shame.”

“Well, see you tomorrow?”

“I will, but I don’t think that you will see me any time soon.”

“If you make that joke one more time, I will have you sent back to the prison.”

“Well, fuck you too!”

“Fuck you and I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Fantastic, I’d love that!”

“The feeling is mutual!”

The culprit slams his door on his therapist, the widest smiles of each of the pair’s lives on their faces. It had been an eternity, it had been several years, it had been a few hours, but at long last, they could finally begin, to understand.

[schizosupport]

Would you say that the movie ‘s beautiful mind’ is an accurate depiction of schizophrenia?

Hi there!

I hadn’t watched this movie since I was about ...I would guess 13. What I remembered from the movie was that I didn’t know what it was about, and for a long time, I followed Nash’s point of view, believing that the psychiatrist was working with the Russians. It was an impactful movie for me, I watched with my dad, whose sister was schizophrenic in approximately the same time period as John Nash.

I rewatched the movie today, inspired by your ask. 

I find that the question of whether it’s an accurate depiction is actually a complicated one. I think in a way it is a good representation of what schizophrenia can feel like. If you take the movie very literally, then it’s not super likely. Hallucinating a whole room of people, or a car chase scene that happens only in your head, are not the most likely of scenarios. But false memories, and delusions are, and I think to make the average moviegoer understand the extent to which these things seem real to us, it was necessary to go with this style.

It’s also worth considering the time that this movie takes place. Treating schizophrenia - or any illness - with insulin shock, would be considered medical malpractice today, but was common at the time. And some of the things the psychiatrist says, such as schizophrenia being a degenerative disorder, we now know not to be true.

As such, someone with little medical knowledge may walk away from this movie with some misconceptions about schizophrenia.

At the same time, I personally adore the movie. Nash is portrayed as socially inept and a little bit of an arrogant asshole, and he is allowed to grow his character throughout the movie in ways that are not related to his illness. It is also one of very few sympathetic portrayals of a schizophrenic person in popular media.

He has a loving support network, who stumble along the way because they are also human, but who are genuinely supportive. 

I also love how he starts making little jokes to cope with his illness, that made it feel so much more real and relatable to me. 

There are problematic elements to this movie I suppose, but I am not interested in tearing it down. I am thirsty for positive representation, and this is one of the best portrayals I know of, despite some inaccuracies.

Now, I feel like the next step is to have movies about schizophrenic characters, where the schizophrenia isn’t the main plot point. 

Cat

[lixuagi]

The Cure for Death - chapter 2

In this chapter: MC fullfills her dream and at the same time her nightmares become way too real. 

I try to move my limbs, only to find them immobilized. -Don’t get too excited, you might hurt yourself.- the individual sneers above me. Their teeth are sharp. To say their anatomy is interesting would be to underestimate it. The more I focus, the more details I notice. Their lips are thin, their face symmetrical, their body tall and slender. They look, judging by their uniform, like they’re a doctor. I begin to realize I’m not dead, but I’m still too weak to react. I let them examine my eyes, which are opened wide by long fingers covered with black latex gloves. They smell of disinfectant. -Hm. That’s interesting. You’re not infected. Well, that’s a relief.- I let them finish their examinations before I ask: -Can you release me?- -Oh, of course.- the doctor smiles in a far from reassuring way as they loosen the wrist and ankle straps. I immediately sit down, lifting my back from the freezing tabletop. -What happened? Where am I? Where’s Selasi? - I look around, agitated.

There are dozens of people in white coats running back and forth, labored. Some are bent over tables similar to the one where I am, intent on tinkering with naked bodies, others are rummaging through medicines, noisily tinkling the flasks containing them. The large room is damp, with its rocky walls lit by torches. In the air hovers the penetrating odour of disinfectant, which, however, cannot totally cover a more bitter and nauseating smell, already imprinted in my mind: that of death. -Calm down, young patient.- The strange doctor who welcomed me when I woke up brings my attention back to themselves, taking my face in one hand and turning it to look at it from all angles. As they press my cheeks, preventing me from speaking, I feel their abnormally icy touch on my skin, even through their gloves. I shiver, but I blame the equally glacial and ghostly environment. I try to slow my breathing, as the doctor is not at all reassuring, nor do they try to be. -As much as I would have liked to operate on you, the man who brought you here made me change my mind.- Those words paralyze me instantly, while the individual notes something in a notebook with nonchalance. I hope it was a way to express the love they have for their profession, even if it was verbalized in a rather absurd way. I’ve got to get courageous. I have to make them understand that I need answers. -Please!– I exclaim, weakly grabbing a flap of his gown. Their face turns unnaturally, I’m surprised that they didn’t hear their vertebrae creak, given the rigidity and rapidity of the gesture. The ruby look goes from my face to my hand, but the wide, sharp smile does not leave them. I breathe deeply, as my voice trembles. -Where am I? Please answer me…- I look at them with supplicating eyes, but my confusion almost seems to amuse the doctor. -You’re in my clinic, Miss…- they check their notebook, where I imagine they’ve collected all my data. -MC Alnazar.- To hear my full name is strangely pleasant. Asra gave me his last name, since apparently, when he found me, I wasn’t able to tell him mine. In fact, I don’t remember much about my parents. I have some vague images of a ship, of the ocean, but they are so blurry that I wonder if they were real times or just fantasies created to fill something I preferred not to leave empty. -My friend, Selasi. He is sick… I tried to cure him, but I don’t know if…- the doctor puts their hand on my forehead, despite their silence something I told him led them to believe me feverish. However, that’s not the case. -This Selasi…what is he sick of?- they ask me with apathetic tone. -I think it’s the Red Plague, his eyes were totally red! I’m fine, I don’t need to be here. There are certainly people more needy to receive such accurate treatments, for example Selasi himself…doctor, could you do something for him?- the ambiguous figure seems almost proud that I considered their analysis “accurate”. -We’re already overwhelmed with patients. Which is pointless, since they’ll all end up the same…- they mumble to themselves, but they go on before letting me understand. -The man was perfectly healthy. Although I suspect a slight schizophrenia, since he was babbling nonsense.- I breathe out a sigh of relief. Then, I did it! I saved him! This news invigorates me instantly. I’d love to jump for joy, but I quickly recompose myself, clearing my voice. –What was he blathering on?- -He was talking about a supposed “miraculous magic.” He said it was you who saved him. Tell me…- they bend slightly towards me, their stature towers over my tiny figure. I try not to be intimidated. I might be in the right place at the right time. -I’m a person of science, not the first to believe certain rumors…but are they true?- Their grin is wider than ever, and their sharp teeth are all too evident. I consider the answer. They peer at me like a vulture would at a beast in the middle of the desert, to make sure it is dead and can be devoured. As creepy as they are, they’re still a doctor first. My whole existence has reason to make people better through my gift. Offering it to the world, especially in times of need, is the right thing to do. -Yes, it’s true.- -Prove it to me.- they instantaneously talk back. -You mean…here?- I jerk when they grab me by the shoulders, pushing me in front of a patient stuck on a steel table, in the same condition I was in before. At least I wasn’t naked. -I…I’m not sure I– -Are you lying? If so, don’t waste my time and get out.- Their grip is getting tighter, in a not-so-sheer threat. I wonder if they’d really let me go. -No, I’m not lying! But I’ve never cured a Red Plague patient before without it making me faint, and that’s why I’m here.- -No problem, then.- they grab a scalpel from a nearby tray. My heart stops, for a second I’m afraid they’ll stab me. Then they lower the blade on the patient, making a painful but not excessively deep incision in the abdomen. –Quaestor Valdemar, what are you doing?- A nurse rushes to the scene, alarmed by the wounded man’s desperate cry. –Oh, my…!- I exclaim, in disbelief. What kind of doctor, or rather Quaestor, would do such a thing? The purpose of medicine is to alleviate pain, not to cause more suffering! I immediately put my hand on the wound. Fortunately, I don’t need much energy, and both Valdemar and the nurse watch the cut heal before their incredulous eyes. The patient sighs, relieved from the pain and the blood loss. -It’s…incredible!- exclaims the young assistant, handing me a cloth to wipe the blood off. I accept it with pleasure, offering him a smile a little embarrassed. The boy is tall, his body resembles that of the Quaestor, but his shoulders are a bit wider and he is much more…human, I would say. Externally and internally. His grey irises admire me with enthusiasm, partly covered with tufts of red hair. I can tell from the dark circles under his eyes that this is a really stressful job. I look away from his face, which seems to have distracted me quite a bit. The nurse notices and his pale face turns pink. -Ahem! I didn’t want to embarrass you… I’m Julian Devorak.- he’s trying to offer me a hand, but then he withdraws it, deciding that maybe it was better for me not to come into contact with the liquids that may cover his uniform gloves. He holds it out to me again and I finally shake it. -Mc Aln– I’m interrupted by an abrupt tugging that forces me to turn on my heels. I bring my palms to my chest, I was so immersed to introduce myself that I forgot about the Quaestor, who seems to look at me severely. They don’t seem to appreciate any kind of distraction at work. I understand, how could I think about such a futile thing when people are dying around me? -Come.- Valdemar commands, now facing their back to me and beginning to take long steps through the clinic. I turn one last time towards Julian, pretending an expression of terror to which he mouthes “Good luck!”. It doesn’t occur to me that the doctor has stopped their march, and by the time I realize it it’s too late to stop, as I slam against their back. -I’m sorry, really, I don’t know what’s gotten into me…- God, I’ve never been so careless. I can hear their tongue clicking, I would say condescending, as they hiss: -You’re very distracted. It’s not ideal.- they press their hand on my side, pushing me in front of them, over a little wooden door. There are many others, each with a metal plate with a number engraved on it. On this one, it just says “office”. I am now in a cramped little room, there is barely enough space for a desk and a shelf, both full of notes and volumes, but all perfectly stacked and organized. Valdemar beckons me to sit on the only stool present, and I obey, preferring to keep quiet for now. -Well, that fool wasn’t lying. You really have a gift. It’s interesting, to say the least…- as they talk they put their hands together, otherwise motionless in front of me. -You know, I could almost decide to hire you, but you’d take away potential experiments.- I mean…are they saying they don’t want me to heal people so they can…study them? Their dedication to science is admirable, but their ethics are nonexistent. I try not to let my disbelief slip through. I want this job. -Please, Quaestor. This… I feel it’s where I belong. I’ll do more than just healing. I’ll even do some research, so there may be no need for dissections. I suppose it’s not pleasant… - I try to imply, maybe it’s just a misunderstanding and they’re not as sadistic as it sounds. -Oh, it’s far from being unpleasant to me. I find nothing more beautiful than the warmth of a vital organ under my fingers.- I am speechless, obviously they want to test me, see if I have a strong enough stomach for the job. Or maybe it’s a strange sense of humor, I’ve heard that many doctors joke with these things so as not to make the situation sadder. I decide to humour them briefly to get to the heart of the matter, and I force a giggle. -Hehe, yeah, nothing could be nicer…But doctor, I need this place. I’m not doing it for money, I don’t need anything but necessities. I want to help you, with my whole being.–With your whole being?- There’s no malice in their voice, actually there’s nothing, but the look with which they scan my body from head to toe combined with their strange way of giving voice to thoughts is enough to make me feel molested. I nod, carrying my hands to my lap as if to conceal my nudity, although not even vaguely exposed. They pretend to think about it, tilting their face and that strange horned headdress with it, but they seem to have already calculated everything. -In fact, the Countess has instructed me to put an end to the plague. So I suppose you could be of use to me.- I stand up, and if their figure didn’t upset me so much I’d embrace them. -Thank you, thank you!- I express my gratitude with multiple bows, but I am stopped by a raise of their hand. -One of these cells will be yours. Congratulations, Number 100.- Ah, I guess we’re all numbered. It’s a little sad, but otherwise it would be impossible to remember each one of our names. -But be careful. Nothing goes unnoticed. I won’t tolerate distractions like today’s. They’re very unprofessional and inefficient. And those who slow me down… can be considered discarded. - I swallow. I hope they’re not seriously that strict and it’s just a mask to intimidate newbies. I barely bend my lips up. –All clear.- -Now wait for me here. In the meantime, take off your clothes.- I open my eyes wide. Then, I wasn’t wrong! They really are a creep! Think, MC. If you refuse, you might miss this chance, and it’ll probably never happen again. But if you accept… heavens forbid. I don’t want to think about it. –But, like…completely?- I whisper. I thought it would’ve happened with the love of my life. I’ve never given myself to anyone, I’ve always waited to meet someone who would make me feel totally comfortable, one day. All my integrity, my idea of love… is now being shattered like this? Is it my destiny to sacrifice something so important to fulfill my dreams? My heartbeat accelerates, while panic takes hold of me. The Quaestor raises an eyebrow, puzzled. Then he shakes his head, without giving me any answer, and leaves the office, locking himself behind the door. What a nasty being. But I have to do it. I owe it to those children. Maybe they’re the ones to decide my fate, and they’ve establishehd that I must pay for what I’ve done. That’s right. My eyes get all shiny while unbuttoning my pristine shirt. Asra’s face appears in my mind, his amulet still around my neck. What would he think of me? Probably that I’m disgusting. Giving myself away for a job. But he wouldn’t understand. I take off my garment, then my shoes. The more skin I show, the more tears run down my face. I think back to Julian’s hasty presentation. He seems like a nice, caring guy. I wonder if he could imagine what’s about to happen to the sweet girl he admired for her healing powers? I unbutton my pants and shakily fold them on the stool. Now I’m only wearing underwear and the necklace. Just in case, I put it in my bag, which now lies on the freezing ground. Since the doctor has decided to leave me the benefit of the doubt, I prefer for now to at least keep my bra and panties on, in a futile attempt to feel vaguely protected. I’m rubbing my arms, indulging in the agitation. You must, you must. It’s the best thing for everyone. I can hear the door creaking. There they are, they’re back. The high shadow of Valdemar stretches out on me, while I can’t look at them or stop crying nor shaking. -If that’s what you want…Please know that I’ve never… I don’t…- I hiccup, but all I get in response is silence. -I’ve never done anything like that…-I cover my chest with my hands, rubbing my knees together. -There’s always a first time.- declares the barren voice of my persecutor. Then I really didn’t misunderstand. My crying is silent, but I try to suffocate the sobs, waiting for them to move. I flinch when I hear something brushing against me, and I can’t suppress a small gasp. But it’s not hands. It’s… fabric. -What are you crying for? I thought you were excited. Did you change your mind?- I shake my head, clenching my eyelids. -No, I didn’t. Don’t worry.- -Then you must be one of those people who cry when they’re happy, I guess. Or maybe you’re suffering of hysteria.- How can they think I could be happy right now? They’re going to abuse me! They’re a monster, but I already know that. –Would you like a hand?- -N-no, I really don’t know where to start…take the lead. Just, please. Be nice…- -If this mere thing scares you so much, I wonder how you’ll be able to stand the sight of dead bodies.- I hate to admit it, but they might be right. I have to be strong. I can hear them sighing. -I’ll try to be as fast as I can. It’s standard procedure. But you’ll have to get used to it. As soon as you come in, you’ll have to do it every day. It’s essential and I demand it, like any other behavior deemed necessary under my guidance.- Every…day? No, that’s impossible. Is this really what I deserve? Maybe I never woke up, and for my sin I went to hell. I died, and this is the world the Devil sewed me into. There’s no other explanation. -Now raise a leg, No. 100. – I let out a sob, but I obey. Something slightly rough runs over my calf, surrounding it. –What are you doing…?- I squint my eyes, still tarnished with tears, and find the Quaestor kneeling before me. -I’ll show you how to wear the uniform properly one and only one time. I repeat, once. I want you to watch, though, it is important, or you will not be sufficiently protected from the pestilence. First of all, these pants.- when I realize, my legs give way, and I also fall to my knees, abandoning myself to a hysterical cry. I really just made a fool of myself. If they’re still hiring me after this, I can consider myself extremely lucky. –Oh dear, you sure are an emotional human being. It might encourage patients to tell us about their symptoms. I know empathy is an enviable quality. Not for me, but as long as it doesn’t get in the way, I guess…- are they trying to comfort me? -I’ll let you vent this time, but I don’t want it to happen again during work hours.- -You’re telling me… that you still want to hire me as a nurse?- I raise my head to finally look them in the eye. I even forget that I’m half-naked. -My dear, you may have just walked in here, but you’re already the most useful one. A talent like yours could come in handy.- I don’t care about their grin, their sadism, their inhumanity, as they dab my tears with a clean handkerchief, the relief I feel makes Valdemar seem like the most benevolent creature in the world. -Thank you.- My smile is trembling, but my heart is already calmer. -It’s in my best interest that my employees are in the best possible condition to care for the patients after all. Let’s get back to the uniform. Now, the apron… -

.

When the Quaestor walks me out of the office, we get face-to-face with Julian. –No. 069, do you have any relevant news? -The look of the red-haired boy dashes from me to his superior. He notices my shiny puffy eyes and red cheeks. He frowns, worried, then an impatient scoff from the doctor brings him back to his duties. –I’ve only got the list with the most recent patients data. So far, they have no features in common. Age, ethnicity, previous psychophysical state, nothing is shared equally by the sick. Neither is the mortality rate lower in young people…- I can read his torn down expression even behind the surgical mask, which I am now wearing too. -How many are currently hospitalized here?- I ask. Earlier, Valdemar mentioned the Countess of Vesuvia, Nadia Satrinava, wife of Count Lucio Morgasson. A woman in power is not to be underestimated, but I am surprised that she is forced to take the reins of such an important task as eradicating the Plague alone. I don’t personally know the Count, of course, but Asra has dealt with him a few times as a guest at his sumptuous birthday parties. On the occasion of this special day, the gates of the palace are opened wide to the people, or so the flyers distributed in every angle of Vesuvia claimed, but those who cannot afford a lavish costume and a beaded mask are automatically discarded from the event. Asra, however, loves the dances and especially the food from the buffet, so he attends the party annually, always trying to take me with him. I have always refused, dancing is not my forte and certain things require a confidence that I do not possess. Obviously the celebration stopped taking place when the Plague forced everyone to shut themselves indoors.

-Hundreds arrive every day, but we can do little at the moment except administer sedatives or painkillers.- answers Julian. -Oh, but as of today, not anymore! Isn’t it true, No. 100? The presence of the Questor is ice cold behind me, and I can only nod my head, still embarrassed by the uniform gaffe. -I thought there were 87 of us, doctors and nurses.- Comments the younger medic, perplexed. -As of yesterday, 86, since No. 29 has been eliminated. Anyhow, this way, it’ll be easier for everyone to appeal to her. She could make up for… unpleasant mishaps, such as a perforated artery, crushed rib cages…- while listing every possible case of macabre inconvenience, Valdemar has a strange expression on their face, like the one of a child thinking about his favorite dish. When I get goosebumps, this time I don’t blame the cold of the dungeons. Noticing my discomfort, Julian allows himself to interrupt their dark fantasies. -I didn’t know Alex was sick.- -Oh, he was just at the beginning of the infection. I couldn’t risk him compromising other people’s health…so I took care of him.- I admit I’m not in a position to judge, but I can only ask: -Did you…- -Yes, exactly. I sent him home.- I breathe a sigh of relief, for a moment I feared the worst. But apparently it’s not over. -He’ll be back here soon as a patient, and on his deathbed, he’ll be studied. Isn’t that noble?- The only thing Valdemar seems to be excited about is the idea of vivisection. I wonder if it happens often, to hospitalize their own employees. I hope not, because now I’m part of the medical staff too. I wonder if they ever feels sorry. They might be able to detach themselves emotionally with a stranger, but with a colleague I think it’s more difficult. After all, coworkers chat every day, they help each other. For me it is inevitable that a strictly professional relationship will sooner or later lead to a friendship, even if it is weak. Does this job really change one so much and so quickly? This situation has been going on for just over two years, has it really been able to change an individual’s soul in this way? Or was it already like this? -No more futile chatter, it’s time to return to our splendid duty, don’t you think? - Valdemar’s feline eyes are watching us. I realize that the whole uniform, from boots to gown, fits me perfectly. Could it be that they took my measurements while I was unconscious? Heavens, I don’t think they were even thinking of hiring me yet. Do they do that to everyone? Or maybe one look it’s all it takes for them to know a lot more about me than I could ever imagine. If Julian told me the boss could read minds, I’d believe it, and I wouldn’t even be that surprised. Speaking of Julian, he’s taking a step forward by my side. -I could take care of her training if you agree, Quaestor.- the doctor shakes his head in response, calmly and satisfactorily inhaling the putrid air of the little hospital. -I’m afraid I’m going to have to deny you this chance you’ve certainly been yearning for, No. 069. I myself want to observe her techniques, and who could be a better teacher than me in medical matter? Be reasonable, 069, you would be futile. Even if I didn’t want to take this responsibility, I’d assign the task to someone more deserving.- wow, they could’ve just said no. The two of them exchange an icy stare, there’s no good blood between them at all. The whole surrounding atmosphere is full of tension, but I suppose that’s normal. It’s a very stressful situation for everyone. Julian stands still, looking down. His fists tighten, then he releases them with a sigh. –Understood.- He murmurs resigned, then turns around and goes back to work. Following his trajectory with my gaze I notice something new in the room: a low stone well, open. –Watch carefully.- -Ah!- I yeIp and cover my mouth with my hands, jolting at the unexpected closeness of Valdemar’s face, leaning behind me to whisper in my ear. I then remain motionless, obeying the command, and to my horror I notice that a bloody and lifeless body is thrown into the well. Death is everywhere here. I’ve never seen it like this before, so close. The procedure is done quietly in front of the other patients, but no one pays attention to it, all so busy being tormented by their own unbearable pain. A little boy with vermilion sclerae seems to be the exception, and as he watches the well swallow one corpse after another he realizes that he will soon end up the same way. He grabs his hair, crouching on the icy ground. Valdemar murmurs something, but I take the liberty of not listening to them, running to the young boy to kneel in front of him, his preadolescent face twisted into a desperate expression. I take his face in my hands, bringing his attention to me. Some nurse turns to look at us. -Hey, hey. Shh. It’s okay. I’m here to help you.- I let him rest his head on my chest while he sobs incomprehensible gibberish. Between those confused words, I can distinguish a specific cry saying “I don’t want to die” and I could swear I’m hearing my heart break in two. I run my fingers through his dusty hair, feeling protected by the mask, but even if I didn’t have it I would do the same thing. I take advantage of the contact to concentrate my light and understand how advanced the stage of the disease is. I close my eyelids and let the noises around us cancel each other out. Once again, the compromised particles are in the blood, but luckily they haven’t attacked the organs yet. He will certainly be easier than Selasi to heal, plus now my magic knows where to go and recognizes the enemy. I hold the boy close to me, rocking him gently, while I happily feel his symptoms go away. The light pervades his body, absorbing the malaise. Within a minute, or even less, it’s all over, and when I open my eyes again I have many more fixared on me, first of all those of the cured kid. -How do you feel? -I ask him, smiling kindly. It would be understandable if he was confused or exhausted. -I…-He puts his head down to take a look at his body, then raises it back up to me, then back down again, incredulous. I feel a hand on my back, turning around, I notice it’s Julian’s. -You’re unbelievable, MC!- he exclaims, quickly examining the sclere of the boy, now of a normal whitish hue. Everyone cheers me enthusiastically, surprised by my skill. Between the voices I hear “it’s a miracle” “she’s the cure!” and I turn red like a pepper, while trying to ignore my incoming migraine. Then, suddenly, an icy silence invades the room. Everyone is silent. The only sound that echoes on the rock walls is the ticking of a pair of soles hitting the stone coming closer. -Admirable, really, No. 100. But, you see… I’m the one in charge here. And I don’t think I ordered you to treat this orphan.- I recognize Valdemar’s voice at once, and I realize I made a mistake. I stand up slowly. -But the boy was suffering and…- -Little, incompetent fool…-the breath stops in my throat when the Quaestor’s squeeze wraps around my shoulders, tearing me away from Julian’s delicate touch. -You and your stupid, superfluous feelings. I knew you weren’t so clever, but I still overestimated you.- A rare warmth pervades my chest. It’s anger. -I’m going to ask you to think about it anyway. Do you think it’s right to privilege the health of a young brat? How do you think everyone else feels now? Or maybe they didn’t pity you enough, since they weren’t whining like babies. But I can assure you that there are people who deserved to be saved more than a useless infant to society. There are soldiers, officials, even other doctors here. Isn’t that enough for you?- I bite my lip. It’s so easy to make me feel guilty. The Quaestor’s words, hard as they are, are true. Everyone deserves to live equally. I don’t know what to say, and that encourages them to persevere in reproach. -Yeah, that’s what I thought. The goodness you so-called tender-hearted people show is false. There’s always an ulterior motive behind it, you never pause to think about your actions and that causes more harm than anything else.- It costs me a lot of effort not to cry. I feel humiliated and frustrated, but tears would give him even more reason. -From now on, I demand that you do what I tell you, nothing else. You’re clearly not capable of making objective decisions. Go to your office, in the meantime… take him away- they point at the boy with a wave of their hand. I instantly become pallid with fear.

 .

Notes: summary of this long ass chapter: Julian good, dr.Vivisexy bad. I’m sorry for this angst but this will be very obviously a slow burn (ohhh yeeeeaaah that’s the stuff) and also uhhh space for character development i guess

I need Julian for a higher purpose so i hope you don’t mind the presence of pretty bird boi (i certainly dont,,,,,, i do be kinda loving him doe..,,). As always, thank you for reading! Opinions are always appreciated!!!! (please dont insult/harshly criticize me though, i could and WILL cry)

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs “Psychopath”

*Reader Discression is Advised. Contains Violent content* 

The Journal of Mechanics and Biology

The human brain is designed to run based on a set of complex backup systems. For example, All aspects of visual perception are not located in the same area. If you are to destroy one aspect of the visual system they may be able to retain other aspects of that same system. For this reason it is rather difficult to fully remove the functioning of a single sensory aspect by damaging cortical tissue. However, due to the complexity of these backup systems within a human brain, the slightest malfunction can also cause a mass ripple affect throughout the entire brain.

An imbalance in their neurotransmission chemicals can cause system wide catastrophic failure which can lead to any number of problems including, depression, anxiety, schizophrenia, etc.. Additionally, improper neural connections can also cause ripple effects in behavior. A defective connection between the prefrontal cortex and the amygdala is, perhaps, one of the most unsettling.

Though we know little about the subject, human studies have connected this to Antisocial Personality which can be further broken down into Sociopathy and Psychopathy. Specifically focusing on Psychopathy we find that a disconnect between the frontal lobe and the amygdala demonstrate a lack of empathy and the absence of fear. A human Psychopath often participants in extreme risky and criminal activity because they feel no fear worry or guilt, sensations which keep normal Humans within the bounds of their social law. 

While many psychopaths do not become violent and prefer to work high risk business jobs, when they do get a taste for criminality, the results can be catastrophic. With a lack of fear and empathy, a human psychopath may see no issue with violent crimes against his own species.

As far as we know, there is no reasonable way to detect a human psychopath on short notice, but those who have had experience have indicated that, because of their heightened animalistic instincts, another human may feel uneasy when confronted with one. Though this way of telling is not always accurate, it should be taken under advisement that if a number of humans are uneasy around one of their own species, than it is best to stay clear. 

Krill stood silently next to Captain Vir, as the ship’s cargo ramp was lowered towards the dusty ground below. A cloud of red dust plumbed into the air before dispersing to show a wide expanse of flat, red rock broken, only distantly, by the occasional hill, and a windswept concrete structure surrounded on all sides by security fences and posted with guards. 

Just below them, a dusty red jeep, a human vehicle, sat sides covered in a thick layering of red dust. 

“Remind me again why we would take on such a risky mission.” Krill asked quietly glancing nervously at the group of four guards and one prisoner standing quietly outside the vehicle.

Captain Vir gave a short laugh, and with a clank he took his first step forward onto the cargo ramp prosthetic foot clattering against the metal below him.

“It can’t be that risky.” He began, “It’s just a prisoner transport.’ Krill clattered onto the ramp after him making sure to stay behind the safety of the captain’s larger form.

“Besides.” The captain muttered, “No one else is willing to risk dealing with a human prisoner, so the galactic assembly contacted us personally.”

Krill didn’t much like that explanation, but he gave up trying to understand it as they made their way to the bottom of the ramp.

The captain showed no such worry making his way straight up to the group of guards as a few of the crew members clattered down the stairs behind them.

As was order by the galactic assembly, the human prisoner was bound with the proper human restraints including ankle chains wrist manacles and a belly chain all connected together to reduce his movement. Additionally, his mouth and nose were covered by a clear plastic spit-shield. The human didn’t appear worried or agitated in the slightest. In fact, his posture was rather relaxed as he waited in the scorching desert sun.

Odd though, looking at the human guards, Krill noted the stiffness of their bodies, and the watchfulness of their eyes. They were agitated, while the prisoner was not. Krill didn’t see why, the human was perfectly calm.

Captain Vir ignored the signs as well making his way to the guard in charge to exchange a few words before the man handed over a cream colored file. The captain appeared perplexed by something the man said, but brushed it off a moment later and motion the group of men towards the ship.

The  guards complied, and marched the prisoner up the ramp and into the cargo bay. Krill followed captain Vir on their way back up pleased to be out of the heat, which had already drained much of his energy. 

“We leave him in your capable hands.” The guard captain said, “Just remember what I told you, and you should have no problems.”

Captain Vir gave a short nod, and the man backed out of the cargo bay. As soon as he did so Krill noted the man’s posture straighten as if a heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders. By the look on his face, you would have thought he had just returned from battle. 

Captain Vir barked an order, and the ramp gave a metallic hiss closing behind them finally blocking the oppressive heat radiating inwards from the desert moon.

Captain vir turned just then giving off a sharp hiss of surprise. Krill turned and paused to find that the other human, the prisoner, had moved silently forward so the two men were now nose to nose.

The entire cargo bay had gone quiet, and Krill watched in confusion as all the blood drained from the captain’s face.

The prisoner gave a chuckle and stepped back wide smile visible through the spit shield.

The white was replaced suddenly by a wash of red, and the captain stepped forward again right into the prisoner’s space. 

Krill stepped back in shock. He had never seen such a primitively overt manifestation of dominance from the captain. Whatever just happened, had caused an almost primal reaction.

“Threaten me again, and that chain goes around your neck.” The captain hissed looming a good two inches over the prisoner. 

Despite the show of dominance, the prisoner remained smiling posture relaxed. There was no fear in his eyes.

Despite this, the captain stood his ground as the man was dragged towards the brig by a group of four other humans.

As soon as the man left the room, the captain’s face drained again and he stepped back looking almost sick. One hand moved to rub the opposite arm. That hand was shaking. 

Krill stepped forward.

“Captain, are you alright?”

The man gave a confused shake of his head, “Yeah I.... think so... I don’t know that man just. Uh, makes my skin crawl.”

Krill glanced down at the captain’s dermal layer but found nothing untoward.

The captain must have noticed, “A figure of speech, Krill. He bothers me.... the look in his eyes... uh.”

As it turned out, the captain wasn’t the only one to be so affected. Other members of the crew reported similar, though varying, levels of uneasiness. Krill found the idea both fascinating and chilling. What about such a diminutive human could create such a visceral reaction in the crew. While the captain had responded to the man with increased dominance, a few of the other humans refused to be in the same room with him. Others, left his presence shaking and one or more of the crew members demanded that the captain release him immediately for someone else to take care of.

Though the captain looked inclined to agree, he was forced to admit there were no other options.

Krill tried to understand it, but the answers he received were mostly the same. There was something about the prisoner that caused the other humans to respond as if they were in close proximity to one of their own earth predators. As far as Krill knew, there wasn’t much that could scare a human, but this was something all together different.

A few times he took to watching the prisoner through the cameras in his cell, but As far as krill could tell, there was nothing so different about him. He seemed relatively calm and well behaved for a human. He barely talked, and aside from his first interaction with the captain, he had not made any overtly dominant attempts. 

Chained only with the handcuffs, the human switched between sleeping and resting with his back to the floor staring up at the ceiling.

Once accompanying the captain to feed the prisoner, Krill learned just how unnerving the new human could be.

The captain had just slid the trey through the bars when, suddenly, the man was right there. The captain took a step back in shock. The look on the other human’s face was unnaturally focused eyes narrowed in concentration mouth turned in a wide grin.

“Good morning, Captain.” The man began. The tone of his voice was pleasant enough, though Krill noted the same visceral reaction of the captain whose mouth twitched in disgust hands balling defensively into fists.

“What do you want.” He snapped

“Oh come now, captain. I just wanted to make a friendly greeting to someone who has graciously taken care of me.” Krill watched as the man eyed the captaining up and down expression almost hungry as he did so.

“You can take your thanks and shove them up your ass.” The captain growled.

The man frowned, “Such an aversion to someone you know nothing about.”

“I know your a psycho. Don’t need a degree to tell you that.”He growled quietly, “Come on, Krill.”The captain snapped marching them out into the hall and slamming the door behind him.

Captain Vir must have seen the reaction on his face for he stopped and gave a sigh, “Sometimes people just make you feel wrong. It’s like Evil becomes a physical sensation crawling around inside you like a bucket of maggots.”

Krill shook his head in disgust, no wonder they were so averse to the stranger,

Vir Sighed, “I read the man’s file about a day ago... should never have agreed to this mission. Wouldn’t’ve if I had know what he’d done.”

“And what did he do?”

The captain eyed Krill for a long moment before sighing, “You know humans are a very aggressive race.... we are a species of extremes, and while there is good there is evil, and that man broke one of the two greatest taboos in human society.”

“And what are those?” Krill asked nervously.

“The two are Cannibalism and Incest.”

Krill gave a little squeak of horror upon hearing the definition of the two words. He even gave a little step back from the captain horrified that a species could even be capable of such behavior.

The captain held out a hand, “I said it’s Taboo, Krill. Meaning NORMAL people are disgusted by it.”

Krill swallowed hard, “And which one did he do.”

Vir gave a short hiss, “When they caught him, they also found the remains of at least five separate people. When they couldn’t find the rest he admitted to cooking them up and eating them.”

If Krill could have been sick he would have.

Psychopathy was a new word for Krill, and he quickly learned the meaning just a day out from the last station when accompanying the captain to move the prisoner. Despite their distrust, they shouldn’t have grown so complacent. 

They should have left on the proper restraints.

Instead they had chained him by one hand to the bars, while they cleared his cell.

The captain was replacing the bedding when it happened. A loud snap and a roar of pain. Krill turned to find the prisoner rushing towards him. One of his hands had been mangled beyond recognition. The man had broken his own thumb in order to slip it from the cuffs.

Krill was knocked out of the way, thrown violently against the wall where he lay dazed and confused.

The thing that had knocked him aside barreled past and slammed into the prisoner. 

The captain and the prisoner were tossed to the ground in a heap of thrashing limbs and fists. Krill curled back in terror.

The captain gave a scream and Krill turned away mortified as the prisoner came up for air, Grin dripping with blood.

More solid striking noises. A desperate fight.

Krill peered out from behind his cowering limbs just in time to see the captain demonstrate a human phenomenon he had heard about but never seen. He lifted the prisoner from his chest and hurled him back. So powerful was the throw, that the other man slammed into the wall feet away. He was up in seconds pinning the man back against the wall as teeth snapped inches from his neck.

Krill could hear voices from the other side of the door.

But it was too late, the captain had already made his decision. The knife appeared in his hand a moment later. 

Krill had never seen a human fight before much less death. But he watched the knife vanish and then reappear covered in blood first once and then twice then three times. Blood gurgled from the prisoner’s mouth in a sputtering laugh.

He collapsed to the floor, and the captain staggered away hands covered in blood. He eyed the corpse long after the heart had failed. 

The door was thrown open moments later.

Men rushed in.

They moved towards the captain and the fallen corpse.

Trying to get close, the captain jerked away hands over his face slowly backing away from the other humans.

He backed over to the wall next to krill and slid down. HIs face was pale eyes wide, nothing like his attacker. His skin appeared clammy and cold.

A lot of species are afraid of humans, but oddly enough Krill knew the truth. Humans weren’t scary in general. They were protective and aggressive, but they were honest and friendly. Humans were made to adapt well in a social environments, they were good companions to have. Humans that couldn’t preform socially were immediately ostracized and rejected by other humans. This is why psychopathy is so profoundly disturbing. The intentional rejection of proper social action makes other humans uncomfortable and even aggressive. It’s a primitive response, but useful when you want to know who is and is not dangerous. 

[notribs]

hello hello ! it is may again and i... am still 20, using she/her, and in the eastern standard timezone. i can’t say that’s changed in the amount of time between intros. anyway, i do want to say that i like this gif because i feel like it.............. is an accurate representation of ribs at........... almost all times.

‹ TREVANTE RHODES, HE/HIM, CIS MAN, BISEXUAL. › DAVID “RIBS” SHAFFER is the TWENTY-EIGHT year old from EMERYVILLE, CA. when a friend asked them what they thought of the manor they said, ❝ IT LOOKS LIKE SOMEWHERE JAMIE LEE WOULD BE LURED INTO. ❞ they claim ANY HORROR MOVIE WITH JAMIE LEE CURTIS IN IT is their favorite scary movie, and if they were to die in a horror film they would EXPLAIN TO THE KILLER THAT THERE WAS NO WAY HE MET THE CRITERIA FOR THE ‘FINAL GIRL’… JUST TO BE KILLED IN THE MIDDLE OF HIS SPEECH. their fears include HALLUCINATING, PARALYZATION and FIREWORKS, and they don’t know we know, but… HE MADE MONEY AS A DEALER WHILE HE WAS STILL WAITING FOR THE BAND TO TAKE OFF. hope they enjoy their stay. ‹ MUSE B from STRESSED OUT. ›

QUICK FACTS:

full name: david “ribs” isaiah shaffer

date of birth: december 1, 1992

*does not perfectly reflect the below Big Three zodiac chart because that’s so much math

zodiac big three: sagittarius sun, capricorn moon, pisces rising

gender & pronouns: cis man & he/him

sexual orientation: bisexual

occupation: drummer + backup songwriter + history of drug dealing

the song i listen to on repeat while i write the intro: “make or break” - bugzy malone

BACKGROUND INFO:

triggers: violence, mentions of drug dealing, very very very brief mention of self-harm (not the product of a mental illness which is why i forgot to include this until i looked at it again this morning - the product of wanting to keep a lie), very very brief mention of guns and fire in the ‘fears’ section

born to a very loving family bc i need a sunnier background hasfkljwas 

david was never EVER academically inclined. he’ll tell you it’s because he just wasn’t interested and was too involved in music and boxing, both of which will be gone over soon, but that wasn’t entirely true. he was also very busy working odd jobs days and nights as a kid and days and nights at successful businesses when he was 16+ (see: papa john’s)

his parents did own a music shop! they were clearly doing their part! but, in the digital era and the era of guitar center, they were only getting so much traction. they were also much too calm about it, at least outwardly, so david felt as though he needed to help.

but it is true that he spent a lot of time practicing music and boxing! as just mentioned, his parents owned a music store and were both very musically inclined. they taught him how to be, at the very least, INTERMEDIATE at as many instruments as possible. he can now confidently say that, if the band ever needed it, he could play the guitar, piano, bass, or saxophone. 

that being said, his instrument of choice was the drums. he began using jazz drummers, as well as various hip-hop beats, as his inspiration. his original inspirations were buddy rich, gene krupa, chico hamilton, art blakey, and the beats of grime and 90s rap.

it shows.

when he ventured into other genres, however, he began taking inspiration from nick mason, john bonham, neil peart, keith moon, ginger baker, karen carpenter, and ringo starr 

(i have a music theory + history lesson for you if you think ringo is a bad drummer ok - he was a “songwriter’s drummer,” which is much more important to being a drummer in a band than being technically skilled or being able to show off with complex patterns and, thus, overshadowing the song. that’s why the beatles continued asking ringo to play the drums on their songs, even after they broke up. john lennon never said “he’s not even the best drummer in the beatles” - a radio dj made that joke and people started taking it literally. love that.)

(also the same goes for nick mason but his drumming is rly only brought up when he’s brought up since pink floyd isn’t as talked about as the beatles)

ALSO!!! i have decided to be passionate about karen carpenter because girl won a 1975 poll that pit her against john bonham for best drummer and he got so mad and said she couldn’t last ten minutes with led zeppelin. the following is just alleged, but oh my god i hope it’s true: then she proceeded to compliment his drumming, say that she thinks it’s all very subjective, then got behind her set and played “babe i’m gonna leave you” while singing and not missing a single note. we have decided to stan forever.

he also took up boxing. as a kid, he was just practicing and taking any excess frustration out. when he turned 14, however, he found an opportunity in an underground circuit. he started fighting against other people, for real, and would be paid if he won the fight.

so: school from 8a-3p, drum practice from 3:30p-7:30p (i know), family from 8p-10p, boxing from 11p-2a.

his parents knew he boxed, but didn’t know it was as dangerous as it was. they assumed there were more safeguards in place..... but boy was bringing in a LOT of money for there to be a lot of safeguards in place. because of this, david NEVER let them see his matches.

when he was 16, he’d broken his ribs during one of the fights and refused to see a doctor over it. what did he say happened when his parents could TELL something was wrong? he said that he’d been mugged and beaten up. to support this theory, before he ‘showed’ it to them, he dug into himself with a knife to make it look like the muggers had a switchblade.

from there on out, he made everyone call him “ribs”

did his parents ever wonder where his excess income was coming from? DEFINITELY. he told them that, yes, his MINIATURE matches did bring in some money, but the rest of the money came from tips!! because people are clearly that generous!!

he also never showed them the full amount. he’d only give what was necessary, not out of selfishness, rather to keep his secret and save them from worrying about him. he put it in a savings account.

it should also be addressed that, during this time, he became friends with who would become the guitarist in his future band, joakim. he witnessed joakim fight a homophobic teenager and desperately wanted to join in... but his ribs were broken ahflskd

he continued boxing, even after being introduced to joakim’s college friend, gabe - the future singer of their band. that being said, they began jamming with each other and played in a few local circuits.

his parents were very encouraging of this and told him that he should go for this as a career opportunity. 

can you tell they were idealists?

he wanted to... but it was very impractical. by now, however, he was out of school (and he never went to college). his parents let him continue living with them since they were under the belief they were short on cash and it’d be difficult for him to find an affordable apartment under the papa john’s salary.

he decided to take his parents up on this... but, while he was waiting for his band to find success, their music store was closed down. as they both began looking desperately for new jobs, he realized that papa john’s and the fighting payment wasn’t quite enough anymore... so he started selling drugs.

he doesn’t keep his fighting a secret anymore, but he does keep his drug dealing a secret. he fears that it’ll perpetuate stereotypes.

during one of his band’s gigs, he and the others met their future bassist - the missing piece - rory. she was marginally younger than they were, but she was an extremely talented bassist and songwriter, so the lineup was finally complete and devil’s wine was formed.

when they began skyrocketing, he quit drug dealing. he also stopped the dangerous boxing, although he continues to... box safely. he began sending money back home after they really started succeeding. his mother got a teacher licensure in music and his father got the opportunity to own..... a guitar center.

if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.

VERY IMPORTANT: uses a pearl custom kit, istanbul cymbals, aquarian heads, and vic firth sticks.

that was very important.

PERSONALITY INFO:

literally obsessed with jamie lee curtis. watching her movies has also made him very genre-savvy. 

would genuinely die for her.

is the epitome of bob belcher’s “oh my god.” in his band. they get off topic during practice/recording just ONCE?? queue “oh my god.” and the gif above.

isn’t necessarily ashamed of his past dealings (literally) - like, joakim knows - but is genuinely afraid of perpetuating the stereotype of the dirty black boy. he’s open about the rest of his life, but he’s convinced that if people learn he used to sell drugs, he would be setting people back. having a black drummer in a rock band that’s on the radio? he needs to keep up appearances!!

never wears shirts during concerts. has to show off his ribs and also drumming, with a bunch of lights directly on him, is an extreme exercise and guaranteed sweat machine. dresses like bugzy malone otherwise.

ahflskjd again,,, like adrian,,, look @ his chart ig alhkfjd

FEARS:

hallucinating: he hates not only the idea of losing his mind, but also the idea of having a skewed view of reality after he really... saw reality, you know? his uncle had schizophrenia and, while he rarely saw him, the thought of going through what his uncle had/has to go through terrifies him.

paralyzation: this was a constant worry of his during his boxing matches - he was terrified someone would wind up taking out a firearm and would shoot him into a state of paralysis. not to mention, all limbs are required for both drumming and boxing.... so.

fireworks: less deep than the others. the house next door to his was set on fire due to a firework display being too close. while no one died and most of the house was salvaged, the idea of losing anything he has is terrifying to him. also the sounds they make remind him of guns so?

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

ok,,, so unlike adrian,,, he lived in california,,, a state many other characters lived in. while some cities in california can be like,,,, seven hours away,,, IT’S STILL AN IMPROVEMENT, so i’ll list a few past connection ideas too!

fans

people who hate his music

people who’ve seen one of his matches

old friends

someone who was constantly in his parents’ music store

exes

fwb

ons

???? im bad at connections!!!!!! but im down for brainstorming and/or working off of urs!!!!!!

[illuminating-the-darkness]

Psychic Powers:

The human mind is capable of incredible feats and in some cases these fears transcend the normality and hint at the evolutionary potential of humanity to grow into psychic beings, psychic powers are commonly experienced though often shrugged off rather than fine tuned as it can be hard to relate how the power was awoken or worked and harder still to prove that any psychic power had taken place despite that it is quite common for people to sense each others moods, get a sense of anothers thoughts or correctly predict an outcome or event much of this is all too often attributed to lucky guesses or coincidence and so this post will serve to explore the types of reported psychic powers, their cause and the means of developing them.

Apportation:

Apportation (also known as teleportation) is the ability to send physical objects from one point in space time to another while I find this ability to be largely improbable I can only suggest that this is achieved by the generation and manipulation of vortex wormholes to bend time-space around an object to move it from one point in space time to another with the apperance that it suddenly disappeared and reappeared, this is possible in nature and observed in space and in quantum mechanics and I suppose it is possible to generate enough energy to create and control such a rift in space-time however I personally feel this ability is currently beyond the capabilities of human beings and would require a significant evolution in our psychic capabilities to utilise.

Astral Projection:

As previously covered Astral Projection is the art form of bringing ones conscious energy into the astral realm via a variety of techniques this can also be applied to the effect of out of body experiences which enable the practisioner to walk around the physical world as an ethereal invisible force, this is often triggered accidentally via dreaming, near death experiences and also can be an effect of hallucinations. Most out of body experiences begin with the sudden realisation that the experiencer is floating above their own unconscious body, an out of body experience is triggered in a similar way to astral projection meditation however instead the practisioner visualises their astral self rising or stepping out of their physical body until the sensation is achieved, another reportedly successful method involves visualising your own heart beat until an out of body experience occurs.

Auric Sight:

As previously discussed this is the ability to view and discern information from the auric light generated by objects, people and other living creatures which can be achieved by consciously focusing on trying to see the aura until it is easily seen.

Automatic Writting/Drawing:

This is a process of the subconscious mind often linked to trance states and spiritual posession of an individual who then proceeds to write or draw something without consciously meaning to of their own volition. The process can be achieved via the invocation of spirits, through drug induced states or via hypnosis where a person in either state can be given paper and a pen and observed to create strange writting or images.

Biokinesis:

Biokinesis is a process of making the Morphogenetic field conscious in order to enact changes to the bodies internal and external chemical balances, morphology and genetic mutations this is because the body regulates these processes through the mind and they can therefore be made conscious through actively focusing on them and attempting to manipulate them which in turn can be dangerous but can also lead to self healing and evolutionary changes in morphology, it is interesting to note that hallucinogenic substances can be of use in making this process conscious as for example Sir Francis Crick discovered that DNA is double helix shaped after an LSD hallucination caused his mind to unlock a visual representation of the genetic encoding suggesting that he had begun to access the ability to make his brain regulate his DNA but had not fully understood the potential in terms of psychic power.

Chronokinesis:

Chronokinesis is the effect of experiencing a manipulation or distortion of the natural flow of time it can also be related to the experience of lost time wherein a person is unable to recount their own experiences between one moment and the next across a substantial change in the time of day. We often experience the slowing of our personal perception of time when we are very bored, waiting, anxious, stressed or during experiences of adrenaline or more rarely via synchronistic effects experienced between soul mates likewise we often experience a speeding up of our own perception of time when we are enjoying ourselves. Theoretically the effects of chronokinesis could be enhanced to the point of controling the flow of time itself or the perception of time that others experience, the only way to develop this sense is by improving our awareness of time and through focus on the specific triggers that cause distortion in the percieved ordinary flow of time in order to grasp a greater control over these powers it is often of some benefit in this endeavour to be able to disassociate at will.

Clairaudience:

Clairaudience is the ability to acquire information psychically via audio sensations such as being able to hear sounds or voices which give a sensation or clear message to the experiencer these types of powers are often overwhelning and intrusive and considered to be undesirable effects commonly ascribed to mental illnesses such as schizophrenia. Clairaudience is a common effect of psychoactive substances and can be harnessed by attempting communication with any audiotory hallucinations that are experienced however we must make the distinction that this only a useful psychic power if it generates accurate results and does not cause the experiencer too much stress as we do not wish to strengthen the delusions of the mentally ill who may be hearing harmful voices or maddening nonsense.

Claircognizance:

Claircognizance is the psychic ability to gain information from just knowing, from sensing the truth of a matter through intuition often this is an effect of DMT release in the pineal gland which gives this sensation, claircognizance can therefore be developed by actively working to increase the potency of the pineal gland/third eye by attempting to utilise and strengthen our own intuition until this sensation is more common to us however we must be aware that we are capable of deluding ourselves into believing we are always right, we must put into practice the knowledge we achieve through claircognizance to test its validity.

Clairgustance:

Clairgustance is the ability to taste without physical contact this is often related to the sense of smell as tastes can pass through the nasal passage into the mouth however in instances where smell is not the cause of the sensation this is often due to the minds ability to simulate specific tastes based on previous experiences and can be easily developed by focusing on specific foods and objects with the conscious intention of percieving their taste this power can also however relate to the sudden sensation of a taste when entering a room, meeting a person or via other triggered stimulation and may be related to synesthesia.

Clairolfactance:

Clairolfactance is the ability to pick up information from smells, it is an ability greately improved in many animals such as dogs and like Clairgustance may be related to synesthesia. Clairolfactance can be improved by attempting to recognise how different smells give off certain information and is linked to our ability to improve our memory via our sense of smell however true Clairolfactance is a gift of being able to retrieve specific information about a person, object or event from the sense of smell in a way that transcends our usual sensory input which is to say that for example it is the difference between knowing someone hasnt bathed recently and knowing someone hasnt bathed for specifically five days or in more extreme terms for example that a persons mother collected pinecones from the smell of lavender in their hair as opposed to knowing a person uses lavnder scented shampoo due to the smell of lavender in their hair.

Clairsentience:

Clairsentience is an advanced for of empathic sensation it is the ability to sense the emotional or mental state of a person and to easily put ourselves into another persons shoes without distorting the facts and to thus gain hidden insights into them personally, we can improve Clairsentience by consciously trying to be more aware of the feelings of others and what sense or vibe individuals give off, certain psychoactive substances can greately improve empathy such as hallucinogenics and MDMA, certain star signs of the water element (most notably Pisces) are naturally gifted with the uncanny ability to accurately utilise their empathy to near psychic levels.

Clairvoyance:

Clairvoyance is the psychic ability to percieve information from an extra sensory perception that is to say a Clairvoyant person could enter a room and immediately know hidden facts about the room, its contents, events that happened there and or get a sense of people and animals and their interactions within the room. Clairvoyance is a rare psychic gift related to powerful intuition and likely relates to seeing through the pineal gland/third eye, Clairvoyants are sometimes enlisted by police to help in investigations where all other options have been exhausted sometimes with positive outcomes. Clairvoyance can be developed by focusing intuition and paying more attention to our intuition until it becomes powerful enough to sense hidden factors automatically.

Dowsing:

Dowsing is the ability to sense water sometimes via the use of dowsing rods, dowsing is possible since there is an electromagnetic charge to water which can be percieved physically by the effect of static electricity in attracting or repelling water thus our own bodily biomagnetic energy field/morphic field can be utilised to sense, attract and/or repel water. To enhance our ability to dowse we can begin by trying to get a sense of how our bodily sensations change subtly in the presence of water and can improve this by attempting to dowse with dowsing rods, by experimenting without our own ability to generate static electricity to direct the flow of water and by attempting to determine which of a set of identical vessels contains water while blindfolded meerly by touching the lid.

Electrokinesis:

Electrokinesis is the ability to control and direct the flow of electrical energy with psychic power, people who have this ability inately often attract electricity such as people who are struck by lightning an abnormal amount of times. The ability to control the magnetic attraction and repulsion of our own bioelectromagnetic field enables us to experience telepathic magnetism and to control energy by attracting and repeling it until it takes the route desired. The ability to utilise our bodily bioelectromagnetic field enables us to give off static or electrical shocks and can be used to cause spontanious fire or harm and even death if weaponised. It is likely that this ability is tied to conscious attempts to control the morphic field via brain power and irregular cardial rhythms which could be used to generate stronger more focused bioelectromagnetic discharges, for a maltitude of obvious reasons involving the posibility or harm to oneself or others the greatest of respect and care must be taken when attempting to generate Electrokinesis.

Intuition:

Intuition is the psychic power of being able to interpret the truth of an event, matter, situation or other such stimulation via a sensation that tells us the outcome, intuition can often be misleading or rather misinterpreted and it is only through focusing on our own intuitive abilities and trying to consciously develop them that they are honed into being useful psychic skills, intuition can often be improved by playing psychic guessing games such as trying to correctly determine which playing card another person is holding via the sensation that the card gives us, although we can also actively work on our intuition by being constantly mindful of it and becoming more skilled in discerning its meaning through the emotional and mental senses it gives us in our daily lives. Often intuition is percieved as a sense, gut feeling or as a clear calm voice in our mind which offers guidance.

Levitation:

Levitation is the psychic ability to cause oneself or other objects to defy gravity and float in mid-air although this might at first seem absurd it becomes plausible when it is realised that a big part of the gravity locking us to the physical ground below is electromagnetic thus if we are able to change the polarity of our own bioelectromagnetic field or the electromagnetic field of objects we may be able to generate the effect of magnetic repulsion causing the effected energy field to move away from the physical ground below and float in mid-air to do so would likely be effected by a conscious understanding of our own morphic field and the rhythms of our cardial energy centre and would be easiest to achieve in places where the Earths gravity is at its weakest such as along the equator.

Memory Altering:

Memory Altering is the ability to utilise hypnotic suggestion or astral projection to attack, change, distort or wipe the memory of another living being this could also be enacted by a controlled focus of the morphic fields bioelectromagnetism to attacking specific areas of the brain, naturally this ability is very dangerous and could result in brain damage or death, these types of mental domination can also be utilised towards the goal of mind control which can seek to utilise ones own psychic will or energetic field to direct and control the thoughts or actions of another living being.

Mind Reading:

Mind Reading is the ability to sense the thoughts of another person, mind reading can be an inate ability and can be related to audio or visual hallucinations. Mind reading can be improved by Auric Sight focused around the head and by improving both empathic and intuitive psychic abilities, mind reading is also easier between people who know each other well and have a close psychic bond.

Precognition:

Precognition is the ability to percieve future events usually through visions of the event taking place before it happens, precognition is a powerful form of intuition that likely relies on visual hallucinations produced by DMT release from the pineal gland/third eye therefore we can improve our precognitive abilities by working on our intuition and abilities relating to the pineal gland such as astral projection and dream working. Since the pineal gland takes in light and is stimulated by darkness we can also help to produce visions by improving the DMT production of our pineal gland via sun gazing and meditation or otherwise artificially through DMT containing hallucinogenic substances, the most powerful of which in relation to visions is Ayahuasca. Precognition may also be improved by attempting to focus astral travel attempts into the future by astral projecting with a focus on future events in mind.

Psionic Healing:

Psionic Healing is the ability to utilise our own Morphogenetic and Morphic fields and to control the direction of light energy encoded information around the nervous system by our own conscious thought to result in miraculous regeneration of health and vitality it can also refer to utilising these techniques towards helping others to heal their wounds by directing our own positive energies around their body, I often utilise the visualisation of golden light to direct my body to heal specific areas that I visualise the light eminating from, positivity in thought and intention seems to play a key role in this process and likely relates to the way that liquids in the body respond to light based information.

Psionic Surgery:

Psionic Surgery is the supposed ability of a psychic individual to be able to create wounds on living tissue which can be used for harm but can also be used to perform medical surgical procedures without tools, while I suppose it might be possible to utilise energy to divide living tissue I am somewhat skeptical about the applications of this for accurate surgical or medicinal benefit however I can see how this process may relate to the utilisation of energy in the hands towards a healing effect such as is practiced by masters of Reiki.

Psychic Possession:

Psychic Possession is a form of psionic mind control which utilises astral projection to parasitically fix ones own will onto another living being by attempting to hijack their physical body by entering it through astral projection and dominating their will, this is likely to be much more effective when utilised against unconscious persons.

Psychometry:

Psychometry is the ability to gain clear information about a person or object through the sensation of touch, which is to say a person capable of psychometry can touch an item and gain distinct true imprints of how that item was used, its history or about persons connected to that item they may also get similar sensations from touching living beings, psychometry is a form of intuition triggered by touch and can be improved by focusing our intuition around the sensation of touch until it becomes a clear and accurately working power.

Pyrokinesis:

Pyrokinesis is the ability to control or cause fire with the mind, pyrokinesis likely relates to electrokinesis which can utilise the bodies own bioelectromagnetism to cause or control/attract and repel fire. Fire can be caused by electrical discharge or via the heating of particles in the air via our morphic field, since fire contains electromagnetic particles it is not unreasonable to suggest that it could be controlled via an extra-sensory means. It is also possible that cases of sudden human combustion and immolation are related to pyrokinetic abilities that were out of control or suddenly triggered accidentally.

Remote Viewing:

Remote Viewing is a technique that involves astral projection or out of body experiences to travel to and view an area, situation or person remotely. Remote Viewing is used to eavesdrop psychically on conversations and events and was famously utilised by the CIA to some effect in their Stargate projects. Remote Viewing can be improved and practiced by utilising astral projection and out of body experiences to try and view the contents of sealed containers since once the container is opened the remote viewer will know if they have made a successful attempt.

Retrocognition:

Retrocognition is the ability to percieve past events with accurate clarity it may be related to the visual powers of the DMT producing pineal gland/third eye or otherwise may be related to spiritual memory recovered from past life experiences, it is likely that attempting astral travel into the past by astral projection with past events in mind is the most effective method of attempting to improve retrocognition.

Telekinesis:

Telekinesis is the ability to move physical objects by mental will. Telekinesis is most often reported to occur in young women entering puberty and is often out of control and associated with poltergeist activity or demonic possession. Telekinesis is likely achieved by extending the bioelectromagnetic morphic field to interact with the electromagnetic field of objects and utilising an exchange of energy to initiate momentum and thus telekinesis is actually a focused use of electrokinesis towards the movement of physical objects from a distance.

Telepathy:

Telepathy is the ability to communicate in thoughts with another person and is related to mind reading it can therefore be improved by auric sight utilised around the head area and by the direction of thought and intentions towards the intended recipient, telepathy is stronger and more easily achieved between individuals who know eachother well and where strong psychic physical, emotional, mental and spiritual bonds have been formed between individuals and is very common among biological twins to varying extents. Telepathy can also be used to project images into the minds of others and could be used to generate hallucinatory illusions. In the modern age BCI (brain-computer interfaces) have already made artificial telepathy possible through technology.

Telepresence:

Telepresence is the ability to be paradoxically in two places at one time. Excluding possibilities involving time travel and metaphysical situations where the same energy inhabits different bodies, telepresence might be achievable via out of body experiences if the practisioner is able to maintain enough focus to remain in control of their own physical body and simultaneously generate enough will to physically or visually manifest their astral body in another physical location splitting their mentality across both forms.

Thoughtography:

Thoughtography is the ability to project images from the minds eye/pineal gland onto photographic paper or film. Since photographic paper and film can be imprinted with images from light projection this power is almost certainly utilised by the outward expulsion of light focused through the visual pineal gland into a specific image or pattern imprinted onto the film or paper and can likely be improved by astral projection techniques and techniques which improve our control over the third eye/pineal gland.