04-08-2014, 03:35 PM
[size=12]It took me a while to suss these; in human history & in my own life 'til late 2011, it's pretty much been a given that the human mind has had it's own integrity of ownership, but that's not the case any more. I've been asked how I know the mind has been breached with technology, rather than what I have & am experiencing being a psychotic episode/condition - an obvious & most excellent question. My answers are; knowledge of self, the artificial/synthetic input is often too shouty, too 'clear'/well defined, too messageful, too loud, too foreign/alien/obviously non-indigenous, too out of kilter with the norms I know, too obtuse, boorish, snearing, too orchestrated to a narrative, too goading, insulting, too repetative & too argumentative. The messages/ whispers/ 'notions'/ thoughts, the 'video' feed - all are too 'blip-vert', too sudden. The induced lucid dreamstate is too 'tingly' (incidentally, I really like that tingly, sleep-paralysis type, heavy/floaty feeling) - this is the choreographed dream conferencing, a 2-way (or more) 'interactive' thing, as opposed to the simple 'feed'/video play; the tech is read 'n' feed/feed 'n' read.
I've had quite alot of them, most I don't remember, even tho' the ones I'm supposed to are the times my consiousness is manipulated so that I wake at the tail end of the episode. It's written that there's an excitation potential for lust; I've had a couple of synthetic dreams where I've woken-up at an odd hour, suddenly, quite horny, catching the end of what I take to be a simple porn feed; occaisionally with a 'real', tactile sense, or a 'real' sense of familiarity - i.e. a past relationship - the person is well known to me, even without any specific visual cues or scenario (I'm a nightjar, I usually go to sleep around dawn, so it's odd that I should be waking 2-3hrs after I go to sleep, so around 7am UK time; whether this is convenient for their shift patterns, or whether it takes advantage of a natural rhythm, I don't know, but as usual, at the first oppurtunity to underline something I've just been draft note-taking on, it happened again this morning at exactly 7am, 30-7-'14).
To my knowledge/memory, I'd not had much dream choreography when I suddenly realised what was happening, just the one dream stood out. It was when I was shopping one afternoon in Newcastle upon Tyne in 2012; I went into a shop and the message was shouted into my consciousness (not microwave auditory), "You're/I'm being followed". It was that, over-loud, too clear & obtuse mind feed (this kind of thought dosn't shout itself into my mind, I'm too laissez faire) that prompted a greater appreciation by me, and reappraisal, of the mass of coincidences (synthetic-pseudo-schizophrenic 'ideas of reference') & 'odd shit' that was happing, and particularly of a dream I'd had a few months earlier. This dream I'd noted as having (the now 'usual') too stark, too well defined, too bright, too 'shouty' characteristics of the shop message feed; it was a homes outdoors swimming pool, white, 'clean', everything very square and bright, a social scenario in the sense of a visitor, strong sunlight, my embarrassment at suddenly finding I'd had a dump in the pool. That's all, they're very 'blip-vert', as I say, and it dosn't take a Freud to suss the 'message'. I've been being trauma-based mind programmed for 3yrs now, Lolcats isn't a part of the program, or beds of roses. I suspect I'm a poor student. When my cat was dieing (tumour), they laughed and mocked my emotions. Last week, a family member died; I'd not seen him for ages, (a real hero - he helped land the Yanks at Omaha) but was due to go up there this very week (late July, 2014); as I was told the news, my influence technician neighbour rapidly knocked 9 times or so on the party wall, to mock. Sometimes I almost feel sorry for the feckers, it can't be good for their heads doing this shit, unless they're genuine psychopathic specimens the CIA uses for the 'shits-an'-kicks' of murder/assassination (more 'successful' than the Soviets use of the idealogically sound, and possibly the source of the message I had of "socially acceptable psychopaths"). Some of them are, but they don't wear the T-shirts.
I assume the dreams have three purposes; emotional response, testing of action response, message delivery.
Some of the other dreams are:
A quite nice home, scatter cushions & easy chairs, dim lighting, people slouched around, watching & listening; a girl/woman asks me why I won't leave; "Cats" I reply. She says they'll "annihilate" me. I shrug. End. Obviously, this was an interactive, but whether there were 2 of 'us' there, or the housefull, I don't know.
Domestic scenario; I 'find' a WW2 man portable mortar tube, I'm quite chuffed. End of feed. Nothing more to it, except that 'mortar' then became a popular cue/reference/trigger. I have quite alot of books, 75% perhaps are WW2 and architecture, so artificially creating the cue of 'mortar' is either clever or rubbish, depending on whether you're a psychopathic, egomaniacal git, or not. (all of these dreams are very enclosed, distance is a deception as per older computer games, even when the scenario is outdoors it's usually hilly, nighttime or in a wood/forest).
A studenty/Soviet - type room in a block/condo; someone cooking, a few people milling around, passing thru', water pouring thru' a double electric socket. End. "Flood" then became a cue.
A cubic space, concrete, a part of a sewage or water management system a few feet underground, a bit of water flowing thru', people stood queueing patiently to climb to the surface up a manhole access ladder. End.
Crawling thru' mud, at night, in a forest. End
Beer garden, sunny day, smoking; the barman confiscates my hash stash that was on a table top; "Fair enough" is my attitude, he then shoves it aggressively back into my face - "Tah very much". End. When I told Ben this, his reply was "Don't let anyone nick your stash. Not even Nick. Protect your neck." Classic Ben formulaic word-play there.
The most complex dream; Victorian 3-storey with basement terraced street of houses; a girl leads me into a house and up the stairs into a furnished room, I look around, nothings happening, I turn to the stairs and there's the girls mother(?) in a very skimpy see-thru' negligee with one leg up and open on a footrest; as I pass I give her a kiss on the forehead and continue down the stairs, into a bedroom with an ex of mine, standing, bent over a bed, semi cloathed, facing away from me; I approach her, cup her boob, hug and greet her, and give her a kiss on the back of her neck/shoulder. End. This was odd as I knew who she was, without any visual cue of hair or form or cloathing, either a trick or an assumption by me. After this I got a couple of "monk" pisstakes.
If you watch the film Inception, there's a bit in it where a fella (as I remember it) goes into someones dream, and morphs into another fella, as per a disguise. This dream I had was a girl, chatting to me, "It's not like we've actually done anything to you - yet", windmilling her arms in the sense of enormously and demonstratively over-acting, way too effusive, not comically, just up her own arse. I had a weird impression with this dream. There was just something odd about it. I half assume it was Ben Everhart/'Lockmat' as the girl.
3-12-'13 - several weird dreams; small, half-drowned pooch in a flooded cave; I go in, rescue the thing and hand it thru' an iron grill that's appeared, finding it difficult to exit myself from the cavern. A shiny-thing emporium, everything buckshee, people milling, a host of bric-a-brac to pick-up; I'm oddly chuffed with the roach material booklets and joss-sticks. A friendly, warm, big soft boob lady, snuggling; not sexual but comfortable/intimate. This last was blip-vert.
A Messerschmitt Me 323 Gigant, taking-off with RATO (rocket assisted), side slideing towards an embankment/levee. End. This was odd in that it was as per a Youtube clip, black and white, poor quality footage, 10-15seconds.
Sat at a table on which a plastic beermat or similar was glued down with a rubber type glue; as I prised it off, the glue stretched into elastic 'strings'; a one word message - "ions". End. I take this to be calcium ion efflux, a/the crux of mind manipulation. When you're bullshitting someone with smoke and mirrors, confusions & obfuscations, not everything you say can be retarded crap, something has to be real; for what it's worth, this rings true.
In the palm of my hand, a single, ostentatiously large, slightly damaged, FMJ bullet. End.
　
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I've had quite alot of them, most I don't remember, even tho' the ones I'm supposed to are the times my consiousness is manipulated so that I wake at the tail end of the episode. It's written that there's an excitation potential for lust; I've had a couple of synthetic dreams where I've woken-up at an odd hour, suddenly, quite horny, catching the end of what I take to be a simple porn feed; occaisionally with a 'real', tactile sense, or a 'real' sense of familiarity - i.e. a past relationship - the person is well known to me, even without any specific visual cues or scenario (I'm a nightjar, I usually go to sleep around dawn, so it's odd that I should be waking 2-3hrs after I go to sleep, so around 7am UK time; whether this is convenient for their shift patterns, or whether it takes advantage of a natural rhythm, I don't know, but as usual, at the first oppurtunity to underline something I've just been draft note-taking on, it happened again this morning at exactly 7am, 30-7-'14).
To my knowledge/memory, I'd not had much dream choreography when I suddenly realised what was happening, just the one dream stood out. It was when I was shopping one afternoon in Newcastle upon Tyne in 2012; I went into a shop and the message was shouted into my consciousness (not microwave auditory), "You're/I'm being followed". It was that, over-loud, too clear & obtuse mind feed (this kind of thought dosn't shout itself into my mind, I'm too laissez faire) that prompted a greater appreciation by me, and reappraisal, of the mass of coincidences (synthetic-pseudo-schizophrenic 'ideas of reference') & 'odd shit' that was happing, and particularly of a dream I'd had a few months earlier. This dream I'd noted as having (the now 'usual') too stark, too well defined, too bright, too 'shouty' characteristics of the shop message feed; it was a homes outdoors swimming pool, white, 'clean', everything very square and bright, a social scenario in the sense of a visitor, strong sunlight, my embarrassment at suddenly finding I'd had a dump in the pool. That's all, they're very 'blip-vert', as I say, and it dosn't take a Freud to suss the 'message'. I've been being trauma-based mind programmed for 3yrs now, Lolcats isn't a part of the program, or beds of roses. I suspect I'm a poor student. When my cat was dieing (tumour), they laughed and mocked my emotions. Last week, a family member died; I'd not seen him for ages, (a real hero - he helped land the Yanks at Omaha) but was due to go up there this very week (late July, 2014); as I was told the news, my influence technician neighbour rapidly knocked 9 times or so on the party wall, to mock. Sometimes I almost feel sorry for the feckers, it can't be good for their heads doing this shit, unless they're genuine psychopathic specimens the CIA uses for the 'shits-an'-kicks' of murder/assassination (more 'successful' than the Soviets use of the idealogically sound, and possibly the source of the message I had of "socially acceptable psychopaths"). Some of them are, but they don't wear the T-shirts.
I assume the dreams have three purposes; emotional response, testing of action response, message delivery.
Some of the other dreams are:
A quite nice home, scatter cushions & easy chairs, dim lighting, people slouched around, watching & listening; a girl/woman asks me why I won't leave; "Cats" I reply. She says they'll "annihilate" me. I shrug. End. Obviously, this was an interactive, but whether there were 2 of 'us' there, or the housefull, I don't know.
Domestic scenario; I 'find' a WW2 man portable mortar tube, I'm quite chuffed. End of feed. Nothing more to it, except that 'mortar' then became a popular cue/reference/trigger. I have quite alot of books, 75% perhaps are WW2 and architecture, so artificially creating the cue of 'mortar' is either clever or rubbish, depending on whether you're a psychopathic, egomaniacal git, or not. (all of these dreams are very enclosed, distance is a deception as per older computer games, even when the scenario is outdoors it's usually hilly, nighttime or in a wood/forest).
A studenty/Soviet - type room in a block/condo; someone cooking, a few people milling around, passing thru', water pouring thru' a double electric socket. End. "Flood" then became a cue.
A cubic space, concrete, a part of a sewage or water management system a few feet underground, a bit of water flowing thru', people stood queueing patiently to climb to the surface up a manhole access ladder. End.
Crawling thru' mud, at night, in a forest. End
Beer garden, sunny day, smoking; the barman confiscates my hash stash that was on a table top; "Fair enough" is my attitude, he then shoves it aggressively back into my face - "Tah very much". End. When I told Ben this, his reply was "Don't let anyone nick your stash. Not even Nick. Protect your neck." Classic Ben formulaic word-play there.
The most complex dream; Victorian 3-storey with basement terraced street of houses; a girl leads me into a house and up the stairs into a furnished room, I look around, nothings happening, I turn to the stairs and there's the girls mother(?) in a very skimpy see-thru' negligee with one leg up and open on a footrest; as I pass I give her a kiss on the forehead and continue down the stairs, into a bedroom with an ex of mine, standing, bent over a bed, semi cloathed, facing away from me; I approach her, cup her boob, hug and greet her, and give her a kiss on the back of her neck/shoulder. End. This was odd as I knew who she was, without any visual cue of hair or form or cloathing, either a trick or an assumption by me. After this I got a couple of "monk" pisstakes.
If you watch the film Inception, there's a bit in it where a fella (as I remember it) goes into someones dream, and morphs into another fella, as per a disguise. This dream I had was a girl, chatting to me, "It's not like we've actually done anything to you - yet", windmilling her arms in the sense of enormously and demonstratively over-acting, way too effusive, not comically, just up her own arse. I had a weird impression with this dream. There was just something odd about it. I half assume it was Ben Everhart/'Lockmat' as the girl.
3-12-'13 - several weird dreams; small, half-drowned pooch in a flooded cave; I go in, rescue the thing and hand it thru' an iron grill that's appeared, finding it difficult to exit myself from the cavern. A shiny-thing emporium, everything buckshee, people milling, a host of bric-a-brac to pick-up; I'm oddly chuffed with the roach material booklets and joss-sticks. A friendly, warm, big soft boob lady, snuggling; not sexual but comfortable/intimate. This last was blip-vert.
A Messerschmitt Me 323 Gigant, taking-off with RATO (rocket assisted), side slideing towards an embankment/levee. End. This was odd in that it was as per a Youtube clip, black and white, poor quality footage, 10-15seconds.
Sat at a table on which a plastic beermat or similar was glued down with a rubber type glue; as I prised it off, the glue stretched into elastic 'strings'; a one word message - "ions". End. I take this to be calcium ion efflux, a/the crux of mind manipulation. When you're bullshitting someone with smoke and mirrors, confusions & obfuscations, not everything you say can be retarded crap, something has to be real; for what it's worth, this rings true.
In the palm of my hand, a single, ostentatiously large, slightly damaged, FMJ bullet. End.
　
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