I write;I think;I know.

8:[2009-01-28t23:11:01]

"Shades of Grey"

I'm beginning to see things again. Reality for me has shifted somewhat. I'm not hallucinating. For if you were sat here with me your eyes would see the same images as mine. What I'm beginning to see is a change in the way reality presents itself to me. With a corresponding change in the way I present myself to that reality. It's happened before. And will no doubt happen again.

I see time as a loop. Patterns of causality repeating over and over. Something masked by life in a higher dimension which presents an illusion of linear time. Right now it feels as if reality is nothing but apparent order in chaos. Echoes from the moment of creation resonating within an infinity an order of magnitude greater than you can possibly imagine.

I slide through different dimensions. In each dimension the realities of existence are slightly different. Even the people are different. Yet I was raised to believe in the one. That there was but one world, one view, one reality. Now I find this is not the case. In this discovery I see how much I once knew to be true is completely and utterly wrong.

I was born to be alone. Now I find this can never be. I may never be alone. Had I grown knowing this the knowledge would have become an innate part of me. Integrated into my sense of self it would hardly be worthy of comment. Yet I grew knowing other things. Things which are at odds with who and what I am. Now I discover so much I must unlearn. A thing which is harder than you can possibly imagine.

I have no fixed perception of reality where once one was apparent there is now only reflections. I can hold state for a time. Yet even that fades quickly when parameters change drasticaslly. Then language breaks down when I begin to explain what just happened. There's a difference between being allowed to know and being allowed to tell. All I can do is hold still, do nothing, just be. Wait for a new reality to resolve around me.

I see patterns which overlay the world. A complexity my unconscious has decoded. Something held in mind just out of view. A remembered palette of simple of models to allow my conscious to access this higher order. Allowing me to watch within the minds of those who fall into an expanding canvas of grey. A defence. Something I do to avoid looking at that which once directed my destiny.

I exist in a place which makes little sense. A place where there are very few who reveal theselves to me. Those I do meet hide me behind my former existence then look to me to enter into their delusions. Something I am willing to do where others are not. Entering into the worlds of others as a way to connect. Yet in doing this I loose the ability to express that which troubles me.

I have to consider sometimes if what I see in me is really me. That perhaps what I find myself expressing is displaced from the minds surrounding me. As if I can see and express things hidden in a place outside of self. The things you don't even admit to your self. Experiences which conflict with your personal vision of what is and is not. Things displaced into me because I lack the ability to ask you not to.