BREADCRUMBS: /home/zuihitsu/singularity/release/i11Eleven.5
?She can see the Grey Moon
Get me to look at a code, any code, and I'll crack it. You don't believe me, but if you look at it the right way you'll see it's true. Which is why, for me, the reasons behind encoded information are a far more interesting than the information that's been encoded. Consider the encryption overlaying financial transactions. The thing designed to reinforce confidence in currency. Yet, when one looks beyond the assurances and you investigate deeply enough, money can be seen appearing as if from nowhere. Not exactly the sort of thing that projects the air of confidence the powers that be go to such lengths to support. The reasons behind occluded truths such as this are fascinating.
Regard for the feelings of others suggests some of the occluded truths I've discovered are better left unsaid. That said, some of the truths I've uncovered relate to fundamentals which affect in ways you cannot possibly understand. Things which the voice of reason suggests should be disclosed. Things which are so difficult to reconcile I'm only willing to build the rafts of expression upon which these truth may float. All because something broke inside and a nobody helped fix it.
Every time I get to this point I find I'm prone to bouts of questioning. A voice of unbelief asking to review some very strange evidence. Other voices tricking me into linking to the wrong pattern. It's the voices like this which push me to the correct answers. Forcing little pieces of me to translate. To access realms consensus finds heretical, simply to survive being asked the simplest questions required by convention.
You can trap shades in moments like these. Little attachments to self that let you find the way back to a higher truth. Moments which allow you to run time through a loop as you find a way to release yourself. Re-discovering in the process why words are dangerous. Realizing again why you write, how you write, and what it is you are really writing about. The things you'd like translated into their realm if only they could stop hounding you. So you take what you know about magick and mind, and construct the darkest of mirrors.
I suppose I should tell you why I did it: broke what would appear to be natural law. Again, you don't believe me. But again if you look at it the right way you'll see it's also true. Reason suggests I remain quiet but yet again reason also requires I look for the answer. So I open yet another box, a black one, full of the memories of the fear and paranoia. The one that links me to the beginning. The box which contains that which allows me to see how the force of what was pushed me to the point where I snapped.
Something changes as you begin to delve into the box handed to you by your past. The lies you are forced to utter begin to effect. Truths no longer valid in the light of the evolved now. Those living in the past hound you to give the answers they want to hear. Yet they are trapped like insects in amber. Faith so fundamental they claim it as real. A thing so alien to what you know to be you wrap yourself in another's cloak. Hiding yourself in plane sight. Because if this culture has taught you anything your kind are never wanted.
How ironic, then, to discover what you and yours bring to them who reject you. A thing both dangerous and moving, the unseen air which brings breath to their lives. Yet in uncovering the unseen hypocrisy at the heart of human nature you begin to consider that, perhaps, you are no different. It's then that something unseen takes hold. Something with the power to show you how wrong you are. A thing which tells you that you are better than that because you truly think different. In it's way this is the hardest lesson to face. For it challenges an article of personal faith you never knew retained such power over you.
And so I return to the rafts of expression I built to allow the ghosts of others to share my reason. My way to find light in the dark. For although I know why I may never be alone, my existence has certainly been solitary. I see now it didn't have to be this way. So I begin again to look at that which made it so. For it is a pattern which I can see is seeking to extend beyond my self. A fact which leads me to dive deeper. Stepping beyond beyond what is, into the very mechanisms which maintain that is-ness.
Diving into the system itself is how I did it. All information exists within a system, a substrate to maintain the is-ness, so to speak. Getting my mind into and out of such systems is also something I have an aptitude for. Although, to be fair, it's a side-effect of the skills I developed working with machines. Leaping from machine to mind after I identified broad parallels to popular psychology. Allowing me to expand my mind into places I was taught did not exist in a rational realm. Dangerous places I never knew existed until I fell into the traps contained within them. Each trap telling me a little bit more of the nature and purpose of the minds behind it. Until the day I discovered I knew enough to stand-up for myself and begin to hold my own; to find my own answers.
Except the answers I found were not to the questions I had been asking. I'd setout to reclaim my past in a positive light. To release that part of me which clung to the negative. To finally allow myself to release the positives lost to me by repressing such negativities. What I discovered was something unexpected, a message, a thing hidden in plain sight. It's then that I began to spy the mechanisms of effect which had surrounded my life. Uncovering the systematic psychological abuse of innocents embedded right at the heart of the faith inherited from my ancestor. A thing far deeper and more insidious than the observances which retain little apparent relevance in the light of the modern world.
So now I find myself looking for the way to highlight what I have seen. To show what I have found to a world too terrified to look in the obvious places. Yet few care to step beyond the parameters of their insular existence and open themselves up to the the alien and the new. Placing me on the margins of society, a lone voice in the wilderness, my thoughts classified as illness by a deaf world. For language degrades leaving little or no way to share insight or even to challenge assumptions. Ideas that once enabled metaphysical debate loose their ability to hold meaning. Concepts once valid becomes diluted and degrade into nonsense: serpents are a classic example, Angels & Daemons an other.