These voices are the building blocks of consciousness

Don’t feel like lying down anymore. I’m having rather intense visuals whenever I close my eyes and let go, of odd geometric patterns, and some kind of clockwork. Spinning gears with animals slithering around between then. Also drifting in and out of reality, a bit like when you’re just about to fall asleep. The nausea is growing strong. I went to the bathroom, turned off the lights, and sat down on the floor with my head leaning over the WC, expecting to purge. During this time, I was drifting between realities. A lot of them were defined by fractal patterns. All fractals had an empty circle in the middle of them, as far as I can remember. Some of these realities were weird to the point of being indescribable. I’m calling them realities not because I’m convinced they’re real, but because they weren’t just visual. A lot of times I somehow *remembered* things from these odd places, and on one occasion I found myself staring at a mother and her daughter just below a ski slope. More people were behind me, but I don’t know how I know that, because there were no sounds and I didn’t look in that direction. I felt as if they were all my family, but I know for a fact that these were no people I’ve ever known. I never got to purge, although with every attempt my body curled up with a feeling that purging was really important. Even to the point where it felt as if the meaning of all existence was to get rid of that feeling of nausea that kept clouding my mind. I want to think clearly, but the calls from my stomach are too loud and distracting.

Still don’t need much willpower to stay with the outside world. It is so easy to let go, though, and drift away. The realities come and go, and they feel so real until I leave them. This is so very different from a cannabis high. I’m pretty sure I’m in a state of higher-than-normal mental clarity. So many things to think about, and it’s so easy to focus my thoughts if I want to. Strange thoughts come to me, but I can easily tell them apart from the outside world. This reality seems so irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. So many others are passing by, just as easily as people passing me by on the street. This is an insane experience, but it is so very beautiful.

I’ve realized now that I’ve always had these voices in my mind and in my body, telling me whether the things I’m doing are wrong and right. I’ve just turned down the volume gradually throughout the years. I haven’t heard these in so many years. From the beginning, “I” was just a collection of these voices, with a central unit (consciousness) that can listen in to them. Really simple and primitive voices, which know nothing except for the things they exist to do, but on a large scale they exhibit something resembling intelligent thought. There is definitely something inside of me that can choose to turn the volume on these voices up or down. Just like a mixer table. These voices are the building blocks of consciousness. Even these primitive voices are conscious to a degree, however simple that consciousness might seem. It is too hard, however, to keep track of all these separate voices. Lots and lots of these simple voices are grouped up together by purpose, categorized by our consciousness and form a common voice. This has to be done, because if every voice had their say all the time, the self would be in a state of constant chaos and turmoil. This voice is more complex than all of its parts. Just like a group of individuals uniting in a common cause, forming hierarchies and systems of governance, these voices start to exhibit group behavior on larger scales. These groups of voices will in turn be grouped up with other groups operating on the same scale, and become even more complex, until they ultimately form the thing we come to think of as “I”. If you think of every one of these voices as a person, then the “I” is a lot like the world we are living in. There is a very beautiful fractal-like symmetry in this. This system is not perfect, however. These voices are simple and do not understand the meaning of moderation. The further down the hierarchy you go, the simpler they become, until they are little more than streams of pure intent. If the consciousness focuses too much attention on one particular voice (or set of voices), it will get too accustomed to it. These voices will get too much attention, and grow selfish. Let them have their way all the time and they will grow complacent. They will keep crying even when their initial demands are met, resulting in a constant screaming for attention. This is how bad habits and addictions are formed. This also means that other voices also in need of attention will start to fade until they become background noise. The consciousness might not notice or care, but the background noise never stops. These voices cry out for a reason, which is to make sure that we take care of our mind and body. This means that if the consciousness does not listen, it will never find out the reason behind their crying and therefore never solve the problem. The voices will keep crying. This clogs the machinery and slows down thought, because the consciousness is limited in capacity. Compare this to a tyrannical society falling apart when the institutions can no longer handle the amount of petitions or uprisings by displeased citizens. If the people are happy, the government has more time to spend on other things. It is possible to listen in on voices at a lower level. This takes a lot of practice, a lot of listening. I feel as if the fine-tuning of the consciousness can be done by listening inwards, and that this is the way to cultivate happiness, contentedness and clarity of mind. Listen to your inner voices, the way a benevolent ruler listens to his people, and your voices will love you. And, since these voices are all part of you, this means that you will learn to love yourself proper. This perspective on things is a bit complicated to live with. Thinking of every single part of my body as being a figurative planet of really primitive people with their own lives and history that need to have their demands met makes it too complex to handle. One must find and maintain a balance, where one listens just closely enough to keep the mind and body satisfied, but keeps enough of a distance to not get overwhelmed by it all.

It’s been great to feel so close and connected to the inner self, but it’s all so complicated, and there’s so much information. It would be great with just a little bit of silence. Just a little bit. “Just a little bit”. That’s how it always starts. And the people have no clue what’s going on. Their liberties slowly stripped away. It is scary how closely the outside world resembles the self. I’ve been rambling on for a long time now. The nausea is still present. It eats away at the consciousness, and doesn’t let me think as clearly as I would like. I wish it would get loud enough to give me a reason to do… whatever a dictatorship does to people who don’t agree with the imagined “cause” for which it strives. Having more thoughts, about whether our universe in turn can be viewed as a simple building block of something on a much higher plane, where it can be considered a “voice” in a much more complicated consciousness, or, if you choose, one person in a much more complex world. Maybe this cosmic consciousness also struggles to maintain some kind of self-identity amidst all the chaos. I’m not sure of these things now that I reflect upon them, but they make a great thought experiment. Realities keep coming and going gently through all this. It is very much a pleasant experience so far.

This perspective shines a whole new light on what it means to interact with other people. It is like separate nations are exchanging knowledge and opinions with each other, civilizations with long histories, and many people with histories of their own living in them. The thought is beautiful beyond words. And the separate “people” feel so happy if you give them the slightest chance to tell you what it means to be them. They have a lot of things to say about it though. And I feel like I’m being a little bit repetitive. The voices speaking from within me now are so much more varied than the small group of tyrants I’m used to listening to. Much more interesting, and it makes me as a person more interesting as well. (Between this time and T+3 h I’m not very coherent, and there isn’t a lot to say about it. I chose to let go for a bit and just enjoy myself.)

I forced myself to have an opinion on religion and God. Religion (as it feels to me, right now) is just a way for the inner voices to handle things. They choose to believe that someone is listening to them, because the thought of this not being the case is almost unbearable. They exist to be listened to, after all. As for whether such a god exists or not, I cannot say. But this is how religion as a concept looks and feels to me right now. I’m pondering some more about these voices. If I’m not talking to any of these separate voices in person, then I do not know any of them closely enough to call them a friend. This would mean I’m not very close to myself. I’m a stranger in my own mind. This thought is more fascinating than scary. I’ve realized how much better any interaction with other people gets if you decide to listen with interest, rather than doing it per social code and care for 10% of what is said. This is hard to do, but it can be done. And it is so much more interesting than listening to the same voices over and over, echoing against the emptiness inside. It is also interesting to note how unimportant it feels to force these realizations down others’ throats. They might not need them right now, or agree with them. The things they need to realize might be completely different from these. Also, I have myself to discuss with now. The parts of myself I didn’t know existed.