Informal Theory: Hearing Voices, Thought Disorder as a Crossmodality
In my last post I made a gracioso's account of internal state striation referring to hypersexuality.
For me, that articulation leads this one. half a lobster and it's double.
(hv: are you fishing for a compliment?)
And it's the heard voice, in between the two posts. After a periods now of hypersexuality it can lead at some time to stress and breakdown. As D+G say, machines traditionally breakdown when they're in full swing at high threshold. They refer to Ravel's Bolero's finish - artsy ay? I'm thinking of an actual machine with a motor or something. Lawn mower blades and duck!
So the body heat I get, the orgastic potency as Wilhelm Reich would say, ended with a far out personal concept for me "transideation" ie an emergentist notion of ideation not located in the individual but transpersonal. more than that. I may include my habitat, actual and abstract. Cosmology and infinity. The transpersonal term would have to re-assemble because the personal is not necessary and neither central any more. Individual anythings are in fuzzy sets. Any return to work for me will require "crisp set" time and the rest is whateva.
The other term was Latin based. Rectonaut. Seeking right. And in this Deleuzian strain, through buggery.
As the body termperature, hypersex, and research was somewhat in overdrive, I got carried way again. Take the foot off the accelerator sometime but hey, the machine breaking down and full swing. Minor collision on the autobahn though.
Trying to get sleep my phosphenic was giving me a superfast highly colourful light show including text in different fonts but no identifiable words or phrases. The colour design of a blouse I saw years ago came to mind.
Then the voices. They weren't fast. And as usual the voices were recognisable from memory and, as emergent, I knew the source and internal topology. familiar, yeah. Then two statements from voices I don't recognise from an unknown source topology. More precisely, the voices have an incongrous echo/choir-reverb sound modulation tone. An electronic quality. And thus a scramble to incorporate this in my organic body.
At this juncture, I've lost it. Two more voices but from people I recognise still disconcerting and sounds are merged with these flash colours. That was the come-down. A couple of minutes past and I recorded my impressions on my phone. Just for more context I have been able to elicit "heard voices" by will and in gainful pursuit.
The process of articulation and here, double articulation, and indeed as many tiers as it takes, brings back my peak stability. Back to art, literature, music, formal sciences and not-as-fun physical activities besides the orgastic potency. And of course, the orgastic potency.
For me, that articulation leads this one. half a lobster and it's double.
(hv: are you fishing for a compliment?)
And it's the heard voice, in between the two posts. After a periods now of hypersexuality it can lead at some time to stress and breakdown. As D+G say, machines traditionally breakdown when they're in full swing at high threshold. They refer to Ravel's Bolero's finish - artsy ay? I'm thinking of an actual machine with a motor or something. Lawn mower blades and duck!
So the body heat I get, the orgastic potency as Wilhelm Reich would say, ended with a far out personal concept for me "transideation" ie an emergentist notion of ideation not located in the individual but transpersonal. more than that. I may include my habitat, actual and abstract. Cosmology and infinity. The transpersonal term would have to re-assemble because the personal is not necessary and neither central any more. Individual anythings are in fuzzy sets. Any return to work for me will require "crisp set" time and the rest is whateva.
The other term was Latin based. Rectonaut. Seeking right. And in this Deleuzian strain, through buggery.
As the body termperature, hypersex, and research was somewhat in overdrive, I got carried way again. Take the foot off the accelerator sometime but hey, the machine breaking down and full swing. Minor collision on the autobahn though.
Trying to get sleep my phosphenic was giving me a superfast highly colourful light show including text in different fonts but no identifiable words or phrases. The colour design of a blouse I saw years ago came to mind.
Then the voices. They weren't fast. And as usual the voices were recognisable from memory and, as emergent, I knew the source and internal topology. familiar, yeah. Then two statements from voices I don't recognise from an unknown source topology. More precisely, the voices have an incongrous echo/choir-reverb sound modulation tone. An electronic quality. And thus a scramble to incorporate this in my organic body.
At this juncture, I've lost it. Two more voices but from people I recognise still disconcerting and sounds are merged with these flash colours. That was the come-down. A couple of minutes past and I recorded my impressions on my phone. Just for more context I have been able to elicit "heard voices" by will and in gainful pursuit.
The process of articulation and here, double articulation, and indeed as many tiers as it takes, brings back my peak stability. Back to art, literature, music, formal sciences and not-as-fun physical activities besides the orgastic potency. And of course, the orgastic potency.
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| Unidentified work by artist RETNA |
