Entry 11.11.2020 7pm PST
I think one of the reasons I am psychically drifting in the direction in which I seem to be, is that I am constantly conceiving of formulae, and then identifying with them - identifying as a system of theories. Strictly understanding yourself as a highly complex physical machine. But it heightens the degree to which you mistake the map for the territory, seeing as you exert more and more cognitive energy doing the mapping, referring to your history, relying on previous thoughts, building upon them.
That is to say, part of the reason I may come across as machinic or faux-machinic is because I am constantly carrying all this gear around, including a psychic machine by which I can bifurcate the psyche so as to result in a schism of a cluster into two, a schism of the valuational center of gravity, such that no one reign supremely. It can be felt as an exercising of an antithetical voice.
I'm explicitly treating this as a journal entry, not only as a joke, but because my actual journal entries were increasingly pronounced as if they were directed to an audience, so naturally this makes a nice medium.
It had a very seismic effect when I first became conscious of it as such. It was right before I transferred schools to Chicago, which was largely an intentional move to pluck me from one cultural neighborhood and place me on another, a sort of grafting. (edit: two years ago. Time had already began to dilate.)
At a point when I was frequently writing in my pocket notebook, such that it became a a sort of history, I suddenly underwent turbulence. I had become convinced that this writing was to be looked back on through vitrines, and studied. So I then felt, rather palpably, that there was now a passionate crowd taking my word as gospel, as well as a high court of critics who could just as extremely negate me.
Also, I couldn't be sure that I was writing something because it was a thought of value, or because I got caught up trying to impress the audience and serve them. Whom am I writing for? Am I putting on a show instead of cleaving to the true? How can I be sure that the entries in this journa get progressivel better, as they should be, if I could be Am I being distracted by some hyperactive social organ? Am I yielding too much to the inner corporation of suits?
I have been gradually accustomed to this, once the initial turbulence of that day, still extraordinarily etched into my memory, subsided. That was also the night of perhaps my first revelatory psychic experience, felt as a deep identification with a highly ordered system that transforms itself by dissolving into the static from it emerged, an untethering from the ego, a dip into the higher order. I speak in religious terms where my scientific knowledge fails me.
A central axiom here is that the fitness that is popular is not necessarily even near the fitness that is optimal. The development of the-popular-in-search-of-the-optimal would almost be random, it would be stochastic, as far as I can tell. Using your past as your memory to chip away at the undecrypted future.
as an aside, perhaps the ability to revise your memory/history can prove to be a lucrative mutation. Epigenetics, retroviruses, etc? In other words, perhaps the ability to switch between a set of positions, in order to attain different perspectives of your history, could allow us to determine radically different modes of processing the world.