Tag Archives: egoless

The Spirit Of Chaos

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The Spirit Of Chaos

“Take one of those individual threads in the fiber that seems to be so chaotic and go into the constitution of that, and again you will find fantastic order, you’ll find the most gorgeous designs of molecules.” ~Alan Watts, The Web of Life

Why is it that we think we must depend upon our brains to lead us through life?

CosmicFace_by_Exper_flickrIt is not the brain that experiences (the brain is more like a recording apparatus) but our minds, our consciousness experiences and perceives and conceives our environment (environment here does not necessarily exclude an urban or suburban environment). Since our minds experience, by what process do we undertake this experimental existence? Intuition. We feel, we sense what surrounds us, because we ARE our environment.

Multiplier_by_Exper_flickrIntuition is that part of us, as conscious beings, that processes those constant changes within our environment, which can be aware of those incalculable factors. What’s more can interpret, assess, and comprehend those factors, like a kind of calculation (albeit, one that does not involve counting). Intuition can do this faster than the mind can think, and even more rapid than logic can compute. Why then should we depend upon the brain and its logic? Why should we use it, rather than or as substitute for intuition? Logic is limited, therefore, finite. More, it is flawed, because it can only compute either/or, it cannot perceive a dynamo of information (i.e., factors and variables) simultaneously, all extending from separate directions, chaotic stillness. Logic, that is to say linear systems, regulates an environment, and in that regulation transforms that environment into a static environment, the reduction of infinity to the finite. Our intuition, on the other hand, embraces chaos and randomness without fear of punishment or failure, because our intuition knows that in chaos there is order. The brain and its logic attempts to order chaos. So, we as intuitive beings choose life and health, imagination, our wild nature, exploration, and experience to be more alive, to evolve. For this, we as intuitive beings are uncontrollable, incorrigible, impossible to regulate, and non-linear. If intuition is the spirit of chaos, then life be the canvas.

SoulWise_by_Exper_flickrThrough an intuitive, fully open, wide-eyed, sensual and honest experience of existence, it is possible to transcend hopelessness, pessimism, disbelief, etc. by living in the moment and accepting things as they come. To really enjoy living and look at life as an adventure, we open our hearts, minds, bodies, and spirits to our natural intuitive state of being. In this way, we can enjoy every moment of discovery in the world…and we can become like children on a playground. Now, this does not imply that we possess knowledge, intelligence or wisdom to be absolutely sure about anything, however, it does mean that we are free to change our minds quite often, because the more things we experience, the more our perception changes, and the more we grow and evolve as human beings.

persistenceofcatabolizingsublimations_by_JoelEvelynFrancois_flickrWe are not meant to be miserable beings…we are meant to be vibrant, fully open, playful, sensual, universal beings. We are more than we can become, because each of us is a fractal of light…and we are all connected.

“Light, here, means awareness  to be aware of life, of experience as it is at this moment, without any judgement or ideas about it. In other words, you have to see and feel what you are experiencing as it is. And not as it is named. This very simple “opening of the eyes” brings about the most extraordinary transformation of understanding and living, and shows that many of our most baffling problems are pure illusion.” ~Alan Watts

Thebigbang_by_CarlJones_flickr*Image Credits (all work used with permission through CC license)–
“temple of peace” by AlicePopkorn
“Cosmic Face”, “Multiplier”,&  “Soul-Wise” by Exper Giovanni Rubaltelli
“persistence of catabolizing sublimations . .” by Joel, Evelyn, Francois, . .
“The big bang” by Carl Jones

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Gerald: A Peek Into Schizophrenia

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You’re mind is working at its best when you’re being paranoid. You explore every avenue and possibility of your situation at high speed with total clarity. ~Banksy, “Banging Your Head Against a Brick Wall”

In the early 1990s, PBS televised a series called Madness that was hosted by Jonathan Miller. The premise of the show was to document and to examine the history of people suffering from mental illness. The following two-part video was featured on the show, however, the original video seems to be from the 70s according to what little else I could research on the internet regarding Gerald S.

Gerald S. gives us an accurate and poignant peek into someone who has schizophrenia and how the mind works and processes the external world, which is perceived unfiltered (which explains Gerald’s seemingly incoherent and disorganized speech). Current research is discovering more about this serious mental illness (among others), as well as, better ways to treat those who suffer from serious mental illness and to remove the stigma attached to it.

Medicinal

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Medicinal

“Medication Time! Medication Time!”

My music is a kind of poetical literature in instrumental form. In each piece, I attempt to tell a story.

This experimental, ambient piece tells the story of before, during, and after taking medication. In the past (a long ago past), I was highly against taking any kind of medication as part of treatment, as I considered medication a form of mind-control and I did not want anyone mucking about with my mind, despite the fact that, at that time, my mind was quite unfriendly towards me and regarded as monstrous. I explain this, to further illuminate the influence behind this particular piece and why I created it.

Fig. 1The beginning of the music portrays what triggers the (almost daily) psychotic episode (the affected part of SchizoAffective Disorder) and a depiction of the resulting mood and state of mind/consciousness (which is why the music grows from dark to a kind of chasing feel, as if the mind were chased by the impending psychosis). The middle of the piece/story portrays taking the medications (I no longer hold the same beliefs I did when I was younger about medication, I can now see its use and I now comprehend much more about the beneficial chemical effects it can have on the brain, which has an effect on the body and state of mind) and how differently the mind is affected and the semblance of peace it brings afterward (which sort of explains the lyrics in the middle, “Little did I know. . .”). But the medication lasts only a while and is not impervious to further triggers (shown in the immediacy of the return to the psychosis). The end portrays the return to the psychosis. . . and time again for medication. Basically, this piece illustrates the endless daily loop of life for a mind schizo affected (the reason behind the ending looping back to the beginning, although not exactly, because not every episode is the same).

Untitled*Image Credits (all artwork used with permission through CC license)–
“biTteRNeSS bEfoRE bREakFASt” by Sippanont Samchai
“Fig.1″ by Vacon Sartirani
“Untitled” by Andres Yeah

A SchizoAffective Existence

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We are the stuff of stars . . . and of dreams.

We are not all the products of society’s speculated and manufactured dreams. Some of us with the (dis)ability [deemed so by society’s very small and finite standards] of deviant perception see the world (and by the world I do not mean society’s reality, the technological lexicon industrial civilization has so purposefully become) as something else. Nay, as something more. Where although nature’s colors be bold and vivid, those colors are more so for us, with rays of colorful brightness that extends well beyond the so-called boundary of the object. As if the color glowed in the sun rather than the dark, as if ultraviolet were infused (as it is) but we are able to perceive its inevitable quantum inversion. As if each molecule spoke loudly, and those colors created the most beautiful of symphonies.

With our schizoaffected eyes, we hear music in every hue contained within a flower, or leaf, or body. Color sounds like the twinkling, glimmering glow that physics says it can possibly be. The world is not the binary bullshite of black and white, but voluminous with hues otherwise unimaginable. For it is not our eyes, our finite and limited eyes, that see, but our unfiltered minds the tastes of blue, smells of green, and feels of purple. The sounds of Now shine in the golden amber rays of the sun filtering through a newly-morned room, tasting of dust particles and feeling like humility. Should we scream our unconvinced insignificance onto the air, galaxies appear and dance like the seasons change subtly from one to the other. In our conscious minds beats the fervor of Earth planet’s hum, thrumming our inductive bones like native drums. When we dance, society names it crazy and neurotypicals follow the cry. Yet, their cry seems sad, for they too resonate with the rhythm of the spirit of life, only deadened by the burdens of eco and social (illusion) problems, solved only because they are meant to be unsolvable, less the economic clock quit tocking to the young tick of laborious tedium. Are people so ashamed not to let go of this miserable righteousness? Must we forever bear the cross of sins we never committed? I wonder.

Within the constantly firing neurons of our schizoaffected brains screams the need to be free of social ego’s needs, so we laid it to waste at birth, discarded like a piece of garbage onto the classroom floor. We are not children of light, we are not enlightened, we are merely unaffected by the scientifically managed, now neuromarketed, compulsion of affluence, abundance, deception, manipulation, and greed. Money does not provide our currency, only simplicity sooths our affected brows. Unable to stand the noise of shopping malls, labor, bureaucracy, government, felonious, superfluous laws and the other sick dis-eased ilk of modern (outgoing) social culture, we spit it out, repulsed and disgusted by the constant conundrum of society’s lies that attempt to entrap us. For this “crime”, we are sentenced to institutions and called disorder.

Funny. Who would call today’s society order? Or is it known only by name, and not action? What acts of order are seen performed on Shakespeare’s protean stage? What calm is felt from the pulpit’s preachers (read as presidents, priests, speakers, politicians, coaches, judges, etc. and other costumes of authority)? These, too, have color and it is one listless and bleak. Look around: where else do you see the blues of the sky? The purples, pinks, reds, yellows of the flowers wild?

Within our schizoid bodies, host a rainbow upon rainbows upon rainbows, a tessellated, multi-dimensional, interconnected double helix harmonic sequence of all senses woven together within every one. A chaotic order of untapped stillness . . . just barely there binaural beat pulsing, beckoning . . . life.

A schizoaffected existence.

When the Edge Is Near: An Outline of a Psychotic Episode

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It is so easy it seems for my mind to be wrecked, thereby, wrecking perhaps an entire day, or an indeterminate number of hours of long, prolonged moments trying to piece my mind together. And people (the egos of Society) always say I am gaming or manipulating or faking or stupid or some other such nonsense to explain away the means in which my mind attempts to recover from its shattered state.

I would rather not have this happen; I would rather not be affected at any moment, like being stalked by a monster wearing your own face. Like being stalked by your best friend, whom only a second ago was still your best friend and not the lumbering, snarling, shrieking, screeching ogre stalking you. Knowing where all your favorite hiding spots are; using every secret shared; every years-discovered nuance; every shift, pitch and frequency of your voice; knowing with precision every line of your face and using that knowledge as weapons against you. Because it is your own mind that stalks, at any moment turning against you. Turning in on you, twisting and distorting an already upside down world, like an inverted stream of consciousness. A psychic whisperer so can use truth like lies.

A psychotic episode comes on like a holocaust, save there is no warning, no foreshadowing, no skepticism, no ‘wondering If’ before hand, nothing to have taken heed. Just at one second, friend, and the very next before the clock ticks completely over, monster. And it is worse when the break must be kept quiet else it may disturb others (egos in society) and cause further problems, which feeds back in on the break, pushing the mind farther towards the cliff. Suicidal ideations may be pondered and masticated in the mind, but the actual decision comes in an impulse, an instant. Because no one knows where the edge of the cliff is, so one does not know at which point one will fall, as such, suicide is an accidental decision. “It” just becomes too much and there is a knife nearby so you pick that up and rake it across your throat, without thought, without feeling other than desperation as if you are locked inside a 5 dimensional tessellated Schrödinger box. You just want. It. To. Stop. You want your mind to stop.

The misconception is that there are racing thoughts and voices forcing and compelling you. This is a bit of an oversimplification. There are no thoughts; thoughts at that point are not raw enough to embody such pain. Words cannot contain such concepts of horror. The abstraction of that kind of state of mind tessellates fractals, like a code you cannot crack, because it multiplies exponentially a new number to code with each attempt at cracking it. As if a hacker were trying to crack a password, but with each attack, the password randomly changed and used the hacker’s effort as its algorithm. Like tessellating a fractal into splitting dimensions. So, thought, the idea is like a joke. Thought could not possibly exist in this level of hell. Others assume there are only basic emotions, limbic system responses, fight or flight. This is another misconception. We are talking about a unique, personal, intimate, sensual, perfect, precise, tailored mental hell that is boundless and that changes and evolves faster than any “cure” or attempt to heal the gaping wound that SHINES its pain is so clean and perfect, like the most priceless of diamonds. We are talking about a spectrum of emotions. If you should see one registered on the face, then THAT is an external sign of an emergency, because that means that the internal hell is leaking out to the external, amalgamated reality, and that means the edge is near.

I wish I were at a place such that when these moments strike me I can immediately start making a song, like capturing its photography, like freezing light. Sometimes, that helps to get out the daemon. But when such avenues are ripped from you for reasons of social aptitude, it only pushes the edge closer. It only makes you wish for the edge. To need it, want it, love it. So much so that death becomes like a private joke within you. Only the laughter never ends.

No, not so much a spectrum of emotions, but a prism, so many occurring simultaneously that you cannot name them all. That you cannot possibly identify them, they are so subtle, so loud. To say that one is “sad” or “depressed” in this state is not only synonymous with sacrilege (in its wrongness) but also absurd to think that it was that easily named, that easily quantified. Madness has no hold here. Madness has come and fled before something far superior and far, far more terrifying. Satan has had his fill, Satan flees in terror, and this is Satan’s hell. His horror turned to reflect his un-ego.

That is what it is like to be in the throes of a psychotic episode.

Melvin (music video)

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Melvin (music video)

Melvin has ShizoAffective Disorder. Melvin has no socially constructed ego.

This experiemental, ambient piece depicts the ups and downs, the good days and bad days, the moments when Melvin is “okay” and those moments when Melvin is going through hell. It’s syncopation follows the daily “schizo” moments wherein madness seems to overwhelm the entirety of Melvin’s consciousness and awareness and also those moments of beauty and tranquility wherein the whole of being becomes filled with peace of mind.

This is Melvin’s daily lifestory. Melvin is fine one moment, and in complete madness the next, then after too much of society’s false conventions, platitudes, consumerisms, materialisms, pseudo-complexities, bureaucracies, frivolous and superfluous laws, governments,  neuromarketed ego need for shopping and other illusions and imaginary things, for too long, Melvin becomes shell shocked and unable to function. . . like a thousand yard stare.

This Melvin’s dis-ease, this is Melvin’s life. Hit PLAY.

Melvin is a term of endearment given to me by my boyfriend, Stephen. So, this one is personal.

More of my music videos.

Credits–
[Clips used from the following footage. Some used with permission of CC license and others available in the public domain]:
“Sand City” by Don Whitaker
“sometimes i want to be a monk” from Daniel J Alex
“War Neuroses — Netley Hospital, 1917″ by Wellcome Film
“chicago beach” from doctorfaustroll
“American Look (Part I) 1958″ produced by Handy (Jam) Organization
“The Samaritans – Scream” from HallofAdvertising
“Platinum Fashion Mall, Petchburi Road, Bangkok” from Guido Vanhaleweyk

Image Credit (available through public record from the National Archives):
“Thousand Yard Stare” from The National Archives

Melvin

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Melvin

Follow your inner moonlight; don’t hide the madness. ~Allen Ginsberg

This experiemental, ambient piece depicts the ups and downs, the good days and bad days, the moments when I am “okay” and those moments when I am going through hell. Melvin is a term of endearment given me by my boyfriend, Stephen, so this song is a personal one. It’s syncopation follows the daily “schizo” moments wherein madness seems to overwhelm the entirety of my consciousness and awareness and also those moments of beauty and tranquility wherein the whole of being becomes filled with peace of mind. This is my dis-ease, this is my life.  Hit PLAY.

Track 1 off work in progress and new album called, From The Mind Of A Schizo, Affected, [NOTE: Also, see new category Journal on my blog for writings taken from my journal while involuntarily commited in a State Mental Institution, like this one] which is a personal story of my days living with SchizoAffective Disorder and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

Root of all Madness*Image Credit (all artwork used with permission through CC license)–
“juste avant le sourire – just before smiling” by Monch_18
“Root of all Madness” by Chris Lofqvist

Related Posts

Schizo

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Schizo

To go out of your mind once a day is tremendously important, because by going out of your mind you come to your senses. And if you stay in your mind all of the time, you are over rational, in other words you are like a very rigid bridge which because it has no give; no craziness in it, is going to be blown down by the first hurricane. ~Alan Watts

WantToGoOut_by_StephaneLavoie_flickrThere is a lot of unusual experiences (from an external perspective I would imagine, as the experiences are quite usual to me, in that I have experienced them in some form since I was a child), experiences that I cannot determine are part of SchizoAffective Disorder or are somehow related but not caused by having a SchizoAffective brain/mind/consciousness or are not some other aspect of consciousness/awareness/existence as that is known and understood. You see, I must know/feel/intuit that the time is right before I can do anything, but then suffer from missed opportunity after missed opportunity thus making it ever harder to begin. It is a ceaseless and terribly horrific ride of a mobius strip.

Am I a mindless fool? My life is a fragment, a disconnected dream that has no continuity. I am so tired of senselessness. I am tired of the music that my feelings sing, the dream music. ~Ross David Burke, When the Music’s Over: My Journey into Schizophrenia

lebaiserthekiss_by_Monch18_flickrYou see, whenever I have a thought, my mind creates a tessellated reflection of whatever happening, occurrence, event, abstraction, etc. that I imagine which creates an entire series of new thoughts. I could draw what this looks in the third dimension, but it would only be a digital representation (of sorts, only not unlike a photograph, the impression of light; rather, an impression of thought, a psychograph so to speak or logograph, I guess). What I am describing (or attempting to describe) is not only how I think, but how I experience consciousness and the “structure” of awareness as I perceive and experience it at this moment. However, this, although evolving, has PhotoProjects_by_PowderPhotography_flickrremained constant within my entire life. I (as I can be known) has changed, but has always been. The Fibonacci Sequence, to me, happens to be a favourite number, sequence, harmonic series, description of the form of consciousness/awareness/intuition/life. By this, I extrapolate future happenings, occurrences, events, memories and “past” happenings, occurrences, events, memories, etc. From the present (where this form sustains allways), contains, like a spiralling set theory [a set containing the Fibonacci sequence, per se] what now once was and what now will be. It is nearly impossible to demonstrate or to convey that presentfuturepast are one and the same and the same one, but whatever grasp of English I can muster does not suffice. At least not in any written form that I know.

HumanBrainEvolution_by_hawkexpress_flickrI apply this same “model” onto the motion of an electron along a motherboard, or the machinations of what is known as the world wide web, or the function of the internet in the physical realm, or the motions of average business, or the fluctuations of populations, or a race of people, paradigm shifts, the “laws” of motion applied to technology and information systems, to systems of bureaucracy, governments, etc.; or the structure of the socially constructed self; by it I comprehend philosophy, maths, law, psychology, sociology, anthropology, history, etc. By that, I see the form of ego, the form of consumption, the form of one plus one equals two, or two plus three equals eight. And this is how I am able to perceive/see/sense/feel/emote life, consciousness, awareness, and existence. And so the experience of the third dimensional world to it is quite full, as every sense behaves in this way, as such, I experience, sound, color, taste, sight, hearing, texture as intertwining and full substantial matter, so to speak. When I taste something (not only food, but also an happening, or a sound, etc) I perceive that taste with my entire being, throughout my consciousness and awareness and existence, I do not so much as become that taste, as to vibrate in parallel, to create music with it, as to resonate at its frequency as if I (in that entirety and wholeness) were a tuning fork, its symmetrical reciprocal. It is both maddening and beautiful, freedom and enslaving.

No one is more dangerously insane than one who is sane all the time: he is like a steel bridge without flexibility, and the order of his life is rigid and brittle. ~Alan Watts

Elettroshockfinalsolution_by_LucaRossato_flickrTo see and yet carry the weight of those who cannot see in this manner and to carry the weight of thoughts that do not belong to me, but exist only in the brains of others, the idea of the social personality, that manufactured intelligence known as American people, neurotypicals, or global population, or bureaucrat, or president, or lawyer, or schoolteacher, or sister, or brother, man, women, age, etc, etc. becomes unbearable. So, suicide becomes the only option to quit the forever bombardment of mental mines. Then, I cannot fill out a form, I cannot talk to routinized human beings, I cannot bear to think for another or to control another, I cannot lie, I cannot harm another, even at my most horrible bouts of lunacy, and so forth.

Hope_by_LucaRossato_flickrAll this, you see, in attempt to explain how I am should someone contradict, or attempt to place my mind in a conundrum or paradox, or present to me a double bind. This is why social conventions, mores, and platitudes can wreak such havoc and terror upon my conscious being and mind at multiple dimensions (i.e., spiritual, psychological, emotional, etc.).

Maybe each human being lives in a unique world, a private world different from those inhabited and experienced by all other humans. . . If reality differs from person to person, can we speak of reality singular, or shouldn’t we really be talking about plural realities? And if there are plural realities, are some more true (more real) than others? What about the world of a schizophrenic? Maybe it’s as real as our world. Maybe we cannot say that we are in touch with reality and he is not, but should instead say, His reality is so different from ours that he can’t explain his to us, and we can’t explain ours to him. The problem, then, is that if subjective worlds are experienced too differently, there occurs a breakdown in communication … and there is the real illness. ~Philip K. Dick

GiftofSchizo_by_Joe_flickr*Image Credit (all artwork used with permission through CC license, see Gallery below for larger view of thumbnails)–
“Gift of Schizo” by Joe
“WaNt To gO oUT!!!!” by Stephane Lavoie
“Hope” by Luca Rossato
“Elettroshock – final solution” by Luca Rossato
“le baiser – the kiss” by Monch_18
“The Great Madness” by wili_hybrid
“Human Brain Evolution” by hawkexpress
“Photo projects – chandelier spiral 2013 DSC_0004″ by PowderPhotography

Hello, My name is Nicole and I have just been invited as a guest blogger to Free Psychology. I am one living with SchizoAffective Disorder (and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder), but I often enjoy referring to myself as “A Weirdo Unleashed.” This post attempts to explain how my mind works. How I can go from contemplating the Fibonnacci Sequence and trying to find patterns in the sequence to schizoid episodes and my mood is affected to the point of non-functioning and serious thoughts of suicide and other ways of self-harm. However, with such a mind I enjoy an eclectic study of sundry subjects, that range from Law to Philosophy to Maths to Technology to Comic Books to Science Fiction to Music to Skateboarding/Rollerblading and on to many creative outlets (music, poetry, essays, treatises, drawing/painting, etc.). I consider that one of the “Gifts of Schizo.” 🙂

To learn more about me you can check out my About page on my blog, NIKOtheOrb. I also contribute nature videos (on good days, but I have found that being immersed in nature is one of the best medicines for SchizoAffective Disorder) and essays to EXPLORINGtheLATERAL.