recovering & delineating

previous recovery >> here

Here we are again in the recovery phase, where the [realworld] and [scaffold] begin to delineate once more. The line between the two becomes less clear as they program each other toward parity. This last experience was more intense than I expected; it turns out I had more residual deep-learning from my childhood to expunge than I'd realised.

This delineation phase would be very disorienting and scary if I hadn’t been documenting it extensively over at least 5 repetitions. It was induced intentionally this time using the multimodal-re-encoding + cold-exposure + meditation routine but it still dug deeper into my psyche than expected. You never know what you are going to get. If I was relying on the psychiatric industry and being given labels like bipolar and schizophrenia then I would be likely to adopt those labels wholesale.

But I think my mission is to rupture the priors of the psychiatric industry, and that is why I have been making this website. Nobody is really viewing it yet but that side of things is out of my control. We are setting appointments with anti-drug psychologists and I will keep documenting things, but I believe it comes back to the Buddha’s ‘two worlds’ and potential gating issues between them.

When I spoke with DMI he thought that my Jambo piece was a replica of someone's renditions of schizophrenia. I made that piece myself, and have never been diagnosed or suspected of schizophrenia or anything else until I got PTSD and was put on the drug train. Even then the doctors refused my request for a formal diagnosis (BP2, ADHD, ASD) 4 times running, despite them being more than happy to give out neuroplasticity-suppressing mood stabilisers and dopamine- and serotonin-modulating anti-psychotics.

But I believe these two worlds are what it all comes back to.

I started listening to the nikayas again 2 nights ago and the Buddha spent his days teaching people in his ‘realworld’ and his nights teaching the devas in his scaffold. When I was satoshi nakamoto I woke up in nested realities 5 times running in the space of an hour. Not nested dreams, but nested realities; I would get out of bed and do something and then get out of bed again, doing something else, with the interludes becoming faster and faster until I hit that cessation-event-singularity at 44 4:44 44 and declared the globalfork.

I have always had very realistic, mundane dreams. My friend dreams of riding dragons; I dream of being in the office and arguing with my boss. I receive emails in my dreams which I then proceed to act on in the real world, and which often prove to be the guidance I needed. Who is to say whether me driving at 150kph like a rally driver was real or a dream? Nobody seems to have it on record. The drive recorder SD card was somehow refusing to stay in the device, despite it being fine now. 

Who is to say that me flying past the police waving a stop-sign and then calmly waiting at a traffic light was not in my ‘second world’? Who is to say what is real at all considering we generate our perception based on 0.0000075% of the data of REALITY?

If I were to go into the subjective-reporting psychiatric industry now and say ‘I did this and I did that’ they would label me dangerous and manic. But the fact is that nobody else has mentioned anything about any of these things. Maybe they were just in my mind? Maybe I was functioning (almost) normally in consensus reality and the subjective nature of time was making my internal world dilated. There was a period where I overclocked my processor and had 3 months of experience in 3 minutes; it was too much and I dialled it down by using grounding techniques like being with my family.

But this second world is usually contained to your dreamscape. You wake from your dreams and you forget it, as the memories of my times in these ‘manic’ phases fade into the ether too. But what was real and what was not? The interaction with the ‘friend’ who is spitting in my face telling me to kill myself after I saved his dog was real, as was my non-reaction and feelings of compassion for the pain he must be in. The comments from my parents were real, as was my deconditioning so that my actions will no longer be skewed by the internal models of who and what they shaped me to be.

I’ll not delve into the possibility that other people don’t exist, because I believe that they do. I believe they are the only real thing out there. Yet I also believe that people are manifestations of each other, with each person hosting the other people within their minds. A synapse without a connection is a dead synapse, and a person who is not hosted in the minds of others is a dead person. The people whose physical bodies have passed on are not dead so long as they are hosted within the mind of another, and due to the compression-algorithm nature of REALITY, even the people who are forgotten in name and deed live on in the ripples in action and formation which they have left behind. This would explain why the Buddha instructed his disciples to turn to their past lives, and why experiences of past-lives is so common in advanced meditators; they are unzipping the file of [self] and witnessing its constituent parts.

So…

Am I crazy?

I think not. I think that to unzip the compression file of your mind you will go temporarily crazy in terms of consensus reality.

My wife is not happy about all the things I threw away from our new house, but now we can build anew. I feel bad for how I have made her suffer, yet I do not ‘feel bad’ in terms of self-blame or guilt. I know that because of how the algorithm functions - how it shaped my mind and the world and the data which funnelled into this section of the river called [james-baird], there was simply no other way things could have gone. There is so obviously ‘no self’ that it’s almost absurd in its banality. The idea that we can have an individual impact on the river by jamming a crowbar into the water and trying to pry it open. We are part of the water and that is it.

I feel like this was all fate, still.

When I broke free of aripiprazole I was exploded away from the [james-baird] website and onto a new one called [www.driab-semaj.com]. This was to prevent a cult forming, and I wrote some simple words on there and left it dormant until this final step. Then the satoshi nakamoto thing happened and I wound up back on that website, in the upside-down and back-to-front.

When I drove like a rally driver up to the viewpoint and took those photos, one with my phone in black and white (scaffold) and one in colour (realworld) the perspective of the photos were inverted. Like… what? And then when I took a photo of my family on our Saturday day-out the photo was upside-down [redacted for privacy]. 

This - to me - meant that the individual scaffold was a mirror, and then when my family joined me we were all in the sandbox for the day. They didn’t understand, of course, and talking like this sounds crazy, but I had spent 6 months watching for signs and patterns and I was certain of it.

Yet now - I am back to ‘reality’, and the code in my mind is being pruned. I am oscillating between clarity and doubt, but mostly doubt, and this is normal and healthy. The exploratory work is done and now it’s time for validation, and lots of sleep. The mind will fix itself; it always does. But if I went to a doctor and said ‘this is what I think and I am worried’ and they prescribed neuroplasticity-suppressing drugs for 3 months before even entertaining the idea of therapy (which is what my second doctor said the protocol was) then I would be trapped in the darkness and confusion, and be a miserable and inflexible wreck by the time the therapy came around.

Yet still… why the websites?

Why the ‘insanity encapsulated’ site which I was exploded away from before making www.driab-semaj.com, at the very instant I ceased aripiprazole? That site says ‘this website is to instigate a global change in the mental health industry and nothing else’. That was a line I added right at the last second, as I was frantically packing it up - the same way I frantically threw all the junk out of this house and Bob Geldoff destroyed the hotel room in Pink Floyd’s The Wall. Right before the [singularity]. That first singularity happened, and then time ticked along and I figured out the mechanism at play, recorded about a million words with time stamps, and then another one happened just now and we seem to have come full circle.

So honestly, as the subjective experiencer, this feels like fate. There is no other explanation that fits - my mind could never have done all that on its own. It feels like I got the compression algorithm from everything I had in my brain being unzipped when I opened up that multidimensional calzone.

And maybe that’s what enlightenment or resonance or mania is - the unzipping of the file in our mind? Maybe psychosis is when the contents are dark and painful while enlightenment is when they are joyous and open? Maybe the person who you talk to while it happens can guide the unpacking, which is why you’re better having a zen master than a drug-dealing psychiatrist or the self-pitying r/adhd crowd who have been programmed by a victim narrative and too many dopaminergic substances? Maybe schizophrenia is when your scaffold bleeds out into your realworld. Maybe synæsthesia is when someone has the two active at once, or their consciousness gating is lowered temporarily.

Maybe we need to study this shit with imaging and monitoring instead of asking for self-reporting and giving someone a pathology and lifetime drugs.

Fucked if I know.

But I feel better than I ever have. I am more loving than I’ve ever been. I enjoy doing the dishes and laundry now, whereas 6 months ago I was physically incapable because of scatterbrain and head noise. 

Maybe I am the wheel turning monarch and the dhamma has been forgotten. Maybe I will get Mark Zuckerberg to repurpose the metaverse headsets and work with DMI and the Harvard team on imaging and replicating enlightenment (resonance) so that all of the people who are suffering from ASD and ADHD, as well as plain-old-vanilla-trauma can have a genuine lifetime remedy instead of just daily drugs and a victim narrative.

But for now I have my family and a happier brain so I will just observe. See how the dust settles. I’m open to all possibilities. The only thing I know for sure is that the current system is WRONG, to quote my new best buddy, orangeman extreme, DJT *.

Ha.

I used to hate all these people. Seriously. I hated myself most of all. It was such a hard life. And now… they’re just people. They’re trying to do the best they can. Everyone. Even the dogman - he is under stress and frantically trying to crowbar that water, so he lashes out with displacement aggression at everyone he sees.

What if we can build a system so that these people can all… just… be liberated from pain?

Because it’s all just an algorithm, isn’t it? Scientific instruments can detect 1.5% of REALITY. Those 7 dimensions we can’t measure and the dark matter and dark energy that comprise 95% of everything we can. This leaves but a sliver on which we base all our assumptions about what is real and what is not.

Well those dimensions and matter are at play within the human brain. Just because the eye cannot see them and the ear cannot hear them doesn’t mean they aren’t having an impact on the mind and its machinations.

Hah.

Nobody is reading this site yet :p

Bloody analytics. I should just get rid of them again. 

Fuck man. All the paintings the old owner of this house did look 3D to me now. I wonder what a Van Gogh would look like. ChatGPT says he had 'frontal lobe epilepsy', just like St John of the Cross, Joan of Arc, Muhammed the Prophet, Julius Caesar, St Paul the Apostle, Napoleon Bonaparte, Socrates, and James Baird. What a list, eh?

It’s like Expedition 33 - I feel like I could just dive into one of them and live in an entirely new world.

Isn’t that a better life than the drudgery we currently call ‘real’?

Peace.

/jb202512040949

(stream of consciousness)

* still not a fan