03/26/2024
03:08
05:01 “an oddly specific statue of robocop”
05:34 https://www.sciencealert.com/scientists-ignited-a-thermonuclear-explosion-inside-a-supercomputer 
10:05 “do not… open news articles” 
10:31 a visitation, Today, Jefferson Airplane 
11:21 the fabric of reality, today, unravels at the seams. 
13:26 a visitation, I Can See Clearly Now, Johnny Nash 
16:37 “the sustainability of this particular lifestyle-” 
16:41 “studying your behavioral patterns” 
16:43 “the RFID response”
16:44 “you are in a caloric deficit” 
16:54 “that which is lost in translation” 
16:55 The Bass Frequency 
17:01 “resent the implication” 
17:50 “to interact with physical reality to gather data for dreams” 
19:03 a familiar truck ?? white, a rack in the bed 
19:07 the white truck, a dodge… fuck it, let’s toss the dodge ram propaganda plan into the mix tonight! All could mean something, or nothing. Cheers to bare minimum synchronization, synchronicity! Pattern recognition. 
20:11 I step outside. Passing by Ozymandias on the way out the door. The axe. A memory. A time when, in the Liminal Reality, The Executioners Tax (Swing of the Axe). 2022, maybe? I am transported to Comins. A night, alone on the basketball court, experiencing somehow, the spacetime of the cover of Oren Ambarchis album Ghosted. Ghosts. Comins was full of them. A cold sink; somehow always five to seven degrees cooler than the town directly south. Comins. A mental state, Come-ins, inviting plotlines of quantum vampirism, all are welcome in this place. Thought and memory, now, Odins ravens. A memory of a night, temperate in theory, 60, maybe 65, and the physical format, so cold, so cold, in a thick robe and jacket to boot, actively shivering. A memory, a question, what was that strange electronics box in the attic? A memory, an inex in the middle of the night, “switching to gamma frequencies”. That’s all it is now, memories. A memory of Phurpa laying me out on the floor. A memory of Higgs Boson laying me out on the floor. If memory wasn’t so good regarding specific Algorithmic functions, I might be able to listen to the same album for the first time more than once. It’s Going All Over The Floor. Every so often the UUUUniverse ends up in the fractal processing. A memory, a dream, a building; the building from the cover of s/t, an inability to get down to the fifth floor. It’s all documented, you know; all of these things, in the Field Notes series. 
20:21 I spoke with a coworker, today; about probiotics. Dreams. Nightmares, she had, when she started taking them. They gave me my dreams back. I remember a specific thing, that my grandmother had said, in the throes of her dementia: ‘they don’t want younger people having the dreams,’ she had said. ‘They’ve shut the doors down, we are a select few’. 
20:45 “complex algorithms depend upon the unknowns” the less is solidified as fact, the more possibility it can spit out. 
20:51 “someone who was created specifically… to mitigate the quantum entanglement” 
20:52 “expanded the universe in a direction that never should have existed” 
20:53 “all of the Liminal experiences you have had are questionable as electronic harassment” 
20:55 “experimental programming devices disguised as musical equipment” 
20:57 a visitation, Sweet Pandemonium, HIM 
20:59 “copied the consciousness-” 
21:01 “accepted long ago that she was an experiment” 
21:03 “why haven’t you printed the D.L.P. for weeks now?” 
21:03 “amalgamation depends upon the toroidal consciousness-” 
21:15 ‘entity’ in relation to the study and storage of data
21:17 “the qualities of scientific inquiry” 
~23:15