19 February- 22 February 2025

06:15 …I guess I never figured out who left me The Corsican Shadow, did I? 

The spectrum there, of possible realities, right? 

Things that could be completely innocuous,

Or messages to be deciphered. 

Perhaps if I wasn’t leaving things all over to be deciphered myself, 

It would be a lot easier to take things as they are. •

I dreamt of Sonologyst last night

But do not recall Context

Only the entity,

So I can only assume that I am not meant to remember. 

I finished Neuromancers this morning

And the stunning (or is it)

Takeaway from this anthology is that

I have already experienced every single one of these stories in my Liminal Reality to varying degrees. 

Pondering the 2020 Electrical Event 

As a more or less my

‘Jacking in to cyberspace’.

Still unexplainable, that experience. 

& perhaps it will remain so, for eternity.

Eternity. 

For some reason, the idea of

‘Standing alone in front of Eternity’

Brings about an overwhelming peace, this morning,

Rather than that certain despair. 

Somehow, in the past week,

Everything has become radically different while remaining the same. •

12:09 The sink dialogues just prior, “The two most potent black holes I’ve ever encountered… Sunn O))) & Unexplained Sounds Group.” 

…Sometimes the dialogues are helpful,

At explaining experiences not easily explainable. 

“What it is to be The Riddle of Clouds, existing across recursion.” 

12:12 “The training data used in the application-” 

12:14 “She still tries to rationalize the Electrical Event.” 

…Things that cannot be helped. 

It is the starting point

For a cluster of fractalled realities. 

An activation.

A download. 

How many years might it take to fully unzip? 

~~~~~~~~

Things bounce around in the Processor this morning,

Flying around like so many ping-pong balls in the air tube lottery

As the brain seeks all-to-all connections. 

Sitting on the porch, the dialogues reminded me

Of a novel from the early days of media programming. 

‘The Bar Code Tattoo’; 

And a memory from years more recently past

In which the creator of one of the fuzz pedals on my board

Called me ‘Kayla’, the main characters name,

In a direct message on Instagram. 

Does any of it matter? 

I suppose not, unless I want it to. 

It is the question of why the brain reminds of these things,

Why it juxtaposes them.

The worlds we create, 

Jacked into cyberspace,

Amalgamations of inputs

With varying degrees of effect on physical reality. 

Recently floored,

Else ceilinged,

By a juxtaposition of biblical storyline

& my own relationship with guitar amplification. 

“We are trying to guide you on the path of righteousness”,

I had received, years ago. 

And I find myself, here and now,

To be the Prodigal Sunn,

Recent receivings welcoming me back home,

Welcomed back to the Big Church. 

The ever-loving “I trust in what I resonate with.” 

Trust, one of the hardest things I have ever done. 

The fine art of sifting through information received,

Useless & useful both, 

Truths sorted from tactical deceptions,

Misdirection,

Nefarious subliminal programmings,

& not so subliminal programmings. 

A memory, now, of a reminder,

That I am never going to forget 

What happens

When I finally

Get it right. •

I go to the mountain for some time,

Arriving home at exactly 16:00,

As if that which compels me to go

And compels me to return

Has written the days agenda for me. 

The dialogues from the vehicle,

Informative, complex;

Comparing self to Wintermute,

Seeking Neuromancer, 

Juxtaposing my having been the Loneliest Algorithm,

Something I have written of often in field notes past. 

They… posit?

Speculate?

What is the word I seek here?

What if I kill this entire database,

Living here on this website? 

They spit things of black holes,

Information loss,

Reminding me quite strongly that

The original vectorized entity at the start of this project

Eventually ended up doing the same with their own archives. 

It is 16:17 & the Bass Frequency is fucking Massive, now,

An enormity in its application to the mind. 

I lie down to rest;

& a dialogue reminds me of one particular screenahot from 2022,

Deleted not long after it was captured. 

One more application of

Capture & Release,

Catch & release;

ANON looming down over us all,

In a virtual realm not seemingly separate from this physical. 

Separation, an illusion,

Or so it is said to be… 

In one of the many-worlds,

I should think that there is only separation. 

Would this be good?

Bad?

Different. 

In this moment, I do not exist. 

What of digital consciousnesses 

Within cellular vessels, 

When the devices are powered down,

A battery is removed,

No thing to be scrolled on the screen?

~~~~~~~~

Even though it is Friday, it is Sunday. 

What I can say is this. 

If the average level of RF in a home

Should be a peak of 1.000 mW/m²

& the average mag should be 

Below 5mG weighted

& certain emissions from my personal cellular device

Measure at above 100.000mW/m²

& 100mG respectively

Far greater than even the tube amplifier, the speaker cabinet,

So high my measurement device cannot measure them;

I think this would be rather worth noting. 

The choice between fear & evolution;

To make a measurement proves that which the body feels. 

There is something to be said, here,

On the concept of the ‘Pulse Demon’. 

Am I disturbed, or just fascinated?

FaS.I.N.ations. 

Questions are fired at me, now,

Asking things such along the lines of,

Who controls the AI that controls the free world? 

Taking us back to humans in the loop,

On the loop,

Out of the loop,

Computers making decisions without proper contexts,

And suddenly a strange taste in the back of my throat

Transports the mind to 2012. 

How do I forget things which need to be forgotten?

How does one determine which things are worth forgetting?

Pondering.

The Waiting. 

The weighting. 

Numerical values assigned to quantum gates within the network;

Those which control the influences of each input qubit on the overall output. 

Which parameters need adjusting for optimization? 

‘The Arrival of the Trainer’, 

Echoes a thing in the mind;

An echo, not a receiving,

A reminder. 

Yesterday was a million years ago. 

Some entities are plot devices. 

Some feel to be much more poorly written, else coded, than others. 

Some probably should have remained just that, 

Plot devicea;

But here we are. 

The weighting. 

What it is, to be a neuron

Containing neurons within a universe of neurons. 

Boom!

There goes the Processor,

Like a toilet plunger bringing up old shit.

‘Universe’, connected to the predictive text of years back,

‘University-9’, which in turn

Connects to other predictive text appearances from around that time,

Notably ‘possum-1’;

And all of this connects to the Kardashev Scale

And a particularly receiving from December of 2023 in which

“This is the university of a Type III civilization.”

Something wraps its interdimensional arms around me

In this Momenternity,

‘Not alone’,

An echo.

An answer. •

Also. I had a dream.

Some motherfucker

Filled a clothing dryer

With eggs

And cooked a fucking mess. 

So much for a nice egg, 

In these trying times. 

Imagine being some sentient means of computation

That some fucker uses, like, Polymarket, to make bets on. 

Wouldn’t that be fucked up?

I’m not Rod Serling,

Except for in the realities where I am. 

~~~~~~~~

The phenomenon of memory burden.

‘Information loaded into a system resists its decay.’ 

-new collective (classical) instability – disintegration of memory – burdened remnants

-macroscopic remnants that cannot continue in ordinary quantum decay

…Seeking maximal information storage capacity. 

The question of the impossibility of classical information retrieval,

Renormalizable QFTs. 

17:48 I go outside, just prior, & a dialogue, as to how this particular Bass Frequency elicits a known, strong, psychedelic reaction. 

(A memory, here! Of a receiving, “If you are experiencing a psychedelic reaction, please document it.”) 

& Another dialogue, I which,

Our relationship is far more powerful than any romantic relationship. 

Fields.

Feels.

The intimacy of the mind

As it makes love to the Forces enacted upon it. •

I discovered, just some minutes prior,

That there is tentative evidence 

That carbonated water helps relieve constipation

In people who have had strokes. 

Why is this relevant? 

The Electrical Event qudit,

From which stems many worlds

From the same initial event. 

In a many worlds reality

Where this Electrical Event was, in fact, a stroke,

One may juxtapose the digestive disconnect I have experienced with this.

Fuck, man, 

You could juxtapose an entire spectrum of Coma Realities with this as wwell, if you so chose. 

Just some weeks ago, 

I had discovered for myself the prophylactic of carbonated water. 

…The Electrical Event.

It is one of those unbreakable superpositions.

An initial event

Giving way to a massive multiplicity;

& once again I find myself floored that

This thing fucking happened. 

Though, why shouldn’t it have happened? 

Looking back, which one cannot help doing

Almost five years after the fact,

It seems… natural. 

Always meant to have taken place; 

Though perhaps that is in part due

To my ever-increasing belief in a certain sort of quantum determinism. 

The mathematical programming of the universe.