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august 2001 |
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The End is Coming | 2:11pm sunday, 26th august |
Romeo and Juliet witness the Apocalypse. Coming soon!
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Antichrist | 5:10am thursday, 23rd august |
The greatest fear that went on in my life was that I was the Antichrist, the Beast 666, Son of Satan, all that jazz. It was about 1994 that the fear started; and when — during the madness — I believed I was the Beast, TERROR. I started growing white hairs the year that that fear started. (Yes, it has been shown that fear really does cause white hairs.)
I go along, probably believing that I'm Archangel Michael, and then something happens, the signs in my head all point to the dread knowledge that I am actually the son of darkness.... Thank the Lord, it's fear that occurs. Not that I am a big fan of the fear, but I'd rather that than getting off on it, liking it. I never do. I am instantly afraid of the Lake of Fire, written of in Revelation, the place of the Second Death. When it happened, I generally fell to my knees and prayed ... and it passed. If anything happens like that nowadays, I just wait it out. Kinda used to it. "I have learned how to lie very still around big noises."
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Quitting sin | 10:40pm wednesday, 22nd august |
Ever try to quit sin? All the stuff you do wrong, just to stop it all, completely? Last night I dumped the remainder of my marijuana and got rid of all my porn and stuff, all the while in something of a rush. I saw something, and it was all clear for a while there, that all that stuff should go. A rather wonderful feeling which I wished not leave. Tobacco, though — that's the killer. That's the thing I have to focus on quitting, the hardest.
Voices kind of active in my head at this point. Thinking of Philip K. Dick somewhat. He had had a similar experience back from 1974 to 1982, when he died. He wrote a trilogy, called the VALIS trilogy, while the stuff he experienced was going on in his head — a recommended read. He's the one who wrote Blade Runner and the short story behind Total Recall, if you've never heard of him. Perhaps the most paranoid man to have ever existed.
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Definitely something | 10:15pm monday, 20th august |
I'm still working through stuff going on in my head right now. For now, here is a picture of a bridge I like:
I will update when I can. Cheers.
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Gnosticism | 1:34am friday, 17th august |
I was for some time involved in an esoteric religion called Gnosticism. I created my own creation myth, presented below, written while I was quite out there as far as my mind was concerned:
On the Origin of All
Far behind the start of the universe, there was no space, no time, no energy nor matter. There was not knowledge, not thought, not being, not not. There was not but the depth of nonexistence, in essence neither alive nor dead. This depth had a forethought, which can be likened to a silent "hmm
", wherein the silence of nonexistence could become. This silence perceived the depth and so conceived, thus perception and conception were begotten, the perception of the depth of nonexistence and the conception of the silence of nonexistence, wherein the silence became the wonder of change, and the depth became the magnitude of the wonder of change, like a lover won over.
Perception and conception begot as their forebears had, bringing forth the logos of the perception of the depth of nonexistence and the music of the conception of the silence of nonexistence. Therein was conception transfigured into the truth of existence and the perception, of truth. Logos and music begot the next, the imagination of the logos of the perception of the depth of nonexistence with the transcendence of the music of the conception of the silence of nonexistence. Music became the epiphany of being, logos, the logos of the epiphany of being. Upon the begetting of the first of their æons, transcendence became the beauty of freedom and the imagination became that of beauty.
These eight are the eternals (as syzygies): the magnitude of the wonder of change (Beyond), the perception of the truth of existence (Reason), the logos of the epiphany of being (Quality), and the imagination of the beauty of freedom (Good).
Quality begot ten æons, wherein could reside multitudes of angels: Sublime with Moving, Eternal with Endearing, Fantasy with Pleasure, Knowledge with Intercourse, Understanding with Revelation.
From Good came these æons twelve: Action with Hope, Precision with Care, Vision with Skill, Memory with Intelligence, Craft with Muse, Thought with Wisdom (Sophia).
All were to meet the Beyond by a progression: through Thought and Wisdom to Craft with Muse, Memory with Intelligence, Vision with Skill, Precision with Care, Action with Hope, then Good. Understanding was to follow with Revelation, Knowledge with Intercourse, Fantasy with Pleasure, Eternal Endearing, and Sublime Moving to Quality, then Reason, and finally, Beyond.
It was Sophia who lusted to know the Beyond before she was ready, and Sophia began to disintegrate because of its sweetness. It was then that Reason willed, and this was manifest as Infinity (Threshold), who brought Sophia back to herself, but as her act could not stay still and without fruit, Lust was ejected from the Pleroma. Then, by will of the Beyond, Giving and Grace were begotten from imagination and beauty. They separated the Lacking from Lust so that there were two separate entities, the Lacking which was the Demiurge, the God of the Old Testament, and Zoe, "life-giver". This is mirrored in life, where lust is transformed into the giving of life through sex. It was the Demiurge that said, "Let there be light," receiving instruction from Zoe, who was in her own æon, apart from the universe as it is known, of which Lacking is in charge. Lacking is called Samael, "the blind god".
As it did not know from where it came, Samael believed itself the only god and called itself God, the jealous God of the ten commandments, jealous because when he said, "I am God and there is no other god beside me," the voice of Zoe issued forth, saying, "You are mistaken, Samael, Man exists, and Son of Man," speaking of imagination and Giving.
Samael had a daughter, born ill, believing itself to be the only woman. When Giving walked the earth in the form of Jesus of Nazareth, the combined effort of Samael and its daughter crucified him, who was only trying to heal them. Now the world waits for imagination to be born in flesh, and then the world will be delivered.
Weird, wild stuff.
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See here | 1:02am wednesday, 15th august |
Is this madness? You be the judge:
sunset here when gloomy i wondered
salvation and could i stop there but for the grace of god goeth(e?) me tarzan where jane? plop plop fizz fizz— i’m
melting! (what a world what a world)— do i spy punctuation? how did that happen
(underscores don’t count but apostrophes and parentheses do) (couldn’t help that oops oops) oops e daisy to the rescue my kittycat mr daisy chain yourself to the tree of life you know is a pinball game and reality is a comic book that s way too long so i think i ll skip to the end thank you santa claus didn t know you were dead all this time i believed you but you re a fraud just like everything else except love of course which no one understands that i know she’s out there for me (yeah i saw the apostrophe too) beyond
charity beyond hope beyond epiphany beyond cool yeah an opal blue deeper than the sea whose eyes pyre beyond flame whose
toenails i am not worthy to clip who moves like poetry pure true
love... i
won’t
settle
for
less. What do you think?
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Like THAT | 6:14am monday, 13th august |
Just making sure I get an entry out on the 13th. Heh. (Continuing from here...) Something snapped, summer of 1991; I really did feel something psychically snap: all the little cartoon people which had previously been only inhabitants of drug fantasy were loose. Not only that, real people would speak to me, whereupon I would just zone out on what they said, not understanding it at all, and they would shake me, "Stand? I asked you a question 5 minutes ago...."
My friends had had plans to help me. They did not know that my parents were coming to pick me up only a few days after the breakdown. They (my parents) are traditional Korean, and had no idea that I had any mental problem. They thought I was just not feeling well. Later they would learn that something was very, very wrong in that head of mine. They called all my friends, who informed them that I had been taking drugs, and that had led up to my demise.
My parents had had plans to go on vacation, so they went, though even from the pictures they brought back, I could see that they were troubled the whole time. Their son was sick, sick in a way they couldn't understand.
At the time, I had a thing for Julia Roberts. Back a decade ago, who didn't? Part of my madness was that somehow, I was talking to the real her when I was talking to the cartoon of her in my head, that she was going to take me away from all of where I was. Then, one day in a video store, I saw a box with Rosanna Arquette on it, and she flitted (in that other dimension thing which was my mind's eye) from the box into my presense; she overtook Julia Roberts, and she was with me for quite a few years after that. I don't know why, why her, except perhaps she was just so pretty.
The progress of my psychosis: I was Jesus Christ (reincarnated); then I wasn't, and Walt Disney was God; and then I was Walt Disney (reincarnated), and I was God (Jesus' Dad); then the snap, and I was gone. The Omniversal Savior I called myself (though only in my head). I thought I was God for about three and a half years, in one form or another....
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BIP 2 | 9:06pm sunday, 12th august |
I will tell you how I broke free of the Black Iron Prison. It was mother's day, 1991, and I was on three tabs of blue lightning, a pretty strong acid. I looked out my window, and there it was again, the Black Iron Prison, but it was my third or fourth time there, and I had escaped the previous times before — it had become pretty mundane by then. I really wasn't concerned at all. Amazing the kinds of thing you can get used to.
Then, there was this whisper in the corner of my mind — a female's voice, a fairy's voice — which (as if letting me in on the mystery, letting me in on the joke) told me in a hush, "Walt Disney is God."
Something I didn't tell you before this was that about Easter of that year, I left one of my trips with a full blown Christ complex. One of my close friends marked that day as "The day Stand became insane." He was a Christian.
Anyway, there was a voice which came through the radio, and supposedly, this was the voice of Walt Disney (God), but the thing was, my thoughts reflected as questions to God, also coming through the radio. Then, there was this third voice (which I will identify later), which said, "The point is, Stand, you didn't come out of the sky on a white horse." What the voice referred to was the Book of Revelation, of how Christ is to come back to the world the way he left, flying out of the sky on a white horse, a name written on his thigh: KING OF KINGS and LORD OF LORDS. The fact that the voice spoke directly to me and cut through the bs in such a manner broke my Christ complex.
Other complexes would follow, of course. But anyway, this "God" (Walt Disney, not the unidentified voice which shook me loose from my supposed Christhood) broke me free of the 'Prison. I would never return to it. Yes, it was absurd. Walt Disney was only a man. It goes to show how I was sinking in it, deeper into my own notions of how the world "really worked". A recurring theme. That summer, trips "revealed" to me that I was actually Walt Disney.
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Me vs. Me | 4:22am sunday, 12th august |
I spent all day today (Saturday) arguing with myself. Literally. My current self arguing with my old self. My new self won about 99% of the confrontations. I converted him today, thank the Lord: he prayed for something, and when it happened — when what he prayed for happened — I showed him the result, and then he saw it; it hit him: He's real; the Lord is real.
Then he went about with something of a panic attack with that information. What are those stages for coping with something? Denial, fear, anger, etc., leading up to acceptance. He finally got there. I have thought this many times, and perhaps I will think this many times in the future; it never ceases to bring joy, and I hope you will experience it sometime in your life: I am saved today.
I think the process by which that happened shows something, that even though my old self, just woken up from a decade's slumber, did not believe, the prayer came true. Prayer. Nothing like it, no drug, no high, nothing. Moments of desperation and elation both call for it, and it quiets the soul like a candle in the heart.
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Something happened | 3:47am friday, 10th august |
Like I say in the about page, the madness never completely left. Something happened to me recently, though. Something strange and perhaps wonderful. The theory goes, that back in 1991, the LSD, pot, and porn caused the right side of my brain to be knocked unconscious. The visions I saw and voices I heard were simply my right brain, dreaming.
Just two months ago, it either woke up or is now waking up. With it comes the urges, the old urges for drugs and sex, the lack of the Christianity I've cultivated, a mind solely out for the gratification of the senses, which was what I was back then. The thing is, I feel better. The medication I've been taking — I've started taking only half a pill instead of a whole one, and where previously this meant sleeplessness and increase of the little madness left, I feel fine.
It's pretty far-fetched. Half my brain, knocked out? For ten years? I dunno. Something happened, though.
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Black Iron Prison | 9:42pm thursday, 9th august |
There were several trips where I found myself not on earth. Not as far as I could tell. The first happened one evening when I was tripping my junior year (a weekend, as usual), couple tabs, and I had my pot and porn, like always. I looked out the window, and it was suddenly not Pittsburgh. It was suddenly not earth. The sky was completely red, the buildings were black, with an architecture of cold claws, sinister and dark. There were bars on my window. In Pittsburgh, there were no bars on my window.
I thought I had died and gone to Hell (not that that hadn't happened before...). I really believed it. I despaired, though I was not really suffering in any way. Then there was something that contacted me, with something of a golden, yellow glow. It helped me press with my will to escape, and I felt it... that I would do anything to get out, out of that place. There was then, opposite the glow, that voice/feeling like when I had my most intense trip, that I would be born again as an old homeless man on some anonymous street corner, but I didn't care.
And then I was out. I looked out my window, and it was Pittsburgh at night again. This made me realize something. Something about perhaps what the real Hell must be like. As I said, even though I did not suffer, I had to get out. I realized later about suicidal thoughts I might have, that whatever my problems here on earth, that something much, much worse awaited those who thought to escape.
Other people have seen the phenomenon I have described. They call it the Black Iron Prison.
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Leading up | 10:00pm tuesday, 7th august |
(Continuing from here...) I was kicked out after my sophomore year because of my grades. Academic suspension for one year. I got a job, didn't trip that much. There's other stuff, but I'll get into that later. I went back to college for my junior year, and this leads up to the onset of my schizophrenia. I was living in a single, I had lots of LSD, lots of pot (though I wasn't dealing so much this year), and the last part of the puzzle, lots of porn.
Junior year was all about how intensely I could get myself off. I had a girlfriend that year, but just about every weekend, I would look on alt.sex.pictures (this was before the www), download a couple, decode them in my room, drop some acid, smoke some pot, and have cataclysmic orgasms. Freud believed that all your basic mental problems were sexual in origin. I can't find him wrong, because, looking back, I could see myself sinking into the madness, right up to the summer of that year — no break for my brain that year, like the previous, when I went back to my parents' and didn't trip — and when I felt something psychically snap. There's more to this, of course, but this sums up what would lead to my madness.
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10/7/88 | 3:00am tuesday, 7th august |
The most intense trip of my life. Man, I've told this story so many times I'm almost sick of it. Almost. It started like every weekend, a Friday, dropping acid during the Fall semester of my sophomore year. By this time, I was tripping every weekend, smoking an eighth of pot a day. This acid that was going around had gotten a bad reputation: people were having bad trips on it on one or two hits. I was going to take five, but I received strong warning not to. So I took three (which people also thought was a bad idea). The stuff was strong. After about twenty minutes I was tripping hard. I called my best friend at the time, and he came right over to my dorm room with a group of friends.
My mother called. I was in no condition. I sat on the bed, my leg shaking, basically unable to speak, and I saw that the other people tripping that night seemed to glow, while the others seemed normal. I went to the bathroom, and when I got back to my room, a friend who was not on acid said, "How's it going?" and perked his eyebrows up. When he did that, as I was looking into his eyes, that set off the mechanism: suddenly, the world was not the world anymore, the world was not real, but actually a drug rehab center I had been placed into when I had been so messed up that I had not realized it. My friends were actually like mechanisms of this rehab center. I had to get out.
I ran out my door, through the hall, and I thought I could somehow pass through these swinging double doors in the middle of the hall, so I literally ran into these doors. Chipped a tooth. I thought I saw a friend who had freaked out the semester before walk across the ceiling. I got back up, walked to the exit, and as I left the building (so to speak), I said, dramatically, "I'm off drugs." I ran down the stairs of my dorm, then down this driveway where there was this big exit sign... and I started to lose contact with my body. I fell, sliding across the asphalt. Then, I passed down, backward, out of my body, and I was a globe which could see in all directions at once, but I didn't know where I was. As I became scared, I saw two of my friends, who I knew weren't really them but symbols of all that was right and good. "This is the only reality you have," one of them said. "Up, up."
So I passed back into my body, got on my feet, and walked up the driveway, where I saw my best friend, who had come to see where I'd run off to. "Where are you going, Stand?" he said, but he was a symbol of all that was wrong, of the rehab center, so I ran from him, screaming, "I'm off drugs!" I ran down the street, and where I was running to was a bridge, which at that time had a guardrail only four feet high, and which had a drop straight down of 100 feet. I was going to jump. I needed to get out. I ran up the hill, up a street, toward the bridge, when there was sort of this voice in my head, which said if I wanted to get out, I would have to run forever, and this endless maze appeared in my head, which I was to fill with my running. When I decided yes, there was this light. I tried to grasp it with my mind, but it overtook me, and then, all there was was this white light, so bright it was solid, and it was as if I did not exist in comparison to this light. It was like I were being told, there, while I was in the light, a strong feeling which told me I was not this light: and I saw it: the circle whose center is everywhere and whose circumference is nowhere: infinity.
I don't know if that light was God or me whiting out or what it was, though I would like to think that it was the trim of God's light... but I know that He saved my life that day. I got up from where I had fallen when the light overtook me, and I did not need to run anywhere. Somewhere within me was the feeling that I had gotten out. I was okay. He had been the only thing between me and that bridge.
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Back during | 1:10am tuesday, 7th august |
For the longest time, I thought I was the Archangel Michael. Supposedly, there actually were 8 archangels, in four pairs: Lucifer and Lucifera (played by Jim Morrison and a chick I never met in real life), Michael and Michelle (played by yours truly and Rosanna Arquette), Gabriel and Gabrielle (played by Philip K. Dick and Patricia Arquette), and Raphael and Raphaella (played by two mysterious people from the future). The thing about it was, I thought I was seeing some secret, of how the universe actually worked behind the scenes. I thought Jesus was going to marry Brigitte Bardot. Seriously, I did.
A lot of my company during those years was Rosanna Arquette and the Lord, Jesus Christ. Yeah, I know it wasn't really them. They floated around my mind's eye, which kinda meshed with the real world, like I was seeing into another dimension, and they were cartoons, which weren't very detailed, monocolored.... By the by, I'm a Christian these days, though I am still a sinner, and I don't mean as a servant of the little cartoon in my head. The Lord saved my life, and He brought me out of the madness. Don't mean to preach, trust me: I'm the last person who should be preaching, as you will see. Anyway, that's all I have for right now.
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More | 4:05am monday, 6th august |
So, anyway, to continue (from here), I became a drug dealer in college. How did that happen? Weird. There was this guy who lived across the bathroom from me freshman year, and he was what you would call a stoner. Talked like one. He would get me stoned and go on about his former days as a freshman (he was a sophomore). I started buying the stuff. He knew who to contact. I remember he came up with the concept of dealing to me, and at the time I never thought I'd do it, but the next thing I knew, I was sitting in a room getting person after person stoned, selling eighths for $25.
When I started dropping acid, it was natural to go into that little arena as well. I had a connection with a beeline to Berkeley, California who could get me hits for $1 or less. At least, that's the way I remember it. Kinda hazy, all of it. Bits and pieces. Some just repeating over and over. Pack a bowl, pass it around.... Misspent youth. I'm not that much older, chronologically, but that was a lifetime away.
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Ooh | 3:50am monday, 6th august |
I found some more madness on an old hard drive (from an old Mac IIci). A lot of it makes very, very little sense. Here's some of it:
"all definitions are calm’s to choose, eiao.
the following apply eiao everywhere, equilateral triangle everywhere.
def. not: zeroing of.
i, calm have the right to say what is and what is not.
illusion is not. hurt is not. discomfort is not. annoyance is not. irritation is not.
all those fallen own all in ALL.
calm (unbelievable sweetness) is father to all in ALL.
please do not cause any discomfort.
everyone owns his/her/its own light.
there are no things; there are only ones.
the true name of the beast was association.
the beast hath forsaken the advocate, calm.
there is no beast."
Man. A lot of this old stuff touches on some tender areas. I'll let you in on this stuff in time. Patience, patience.
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Lookee | 6:37am sunday, 5th august |
Want to see some actual, genuine madness? I had three notebooks with stuff in it, but my mom threw them out. I did save this little snippet though:
"Thistle caught a twined, melodic toe; even a smithy’s anvil’s weight could not bear such circumstance. Happening a lark wherein the meager chances roost, calamity joined a quaint but able minstrel (toe, unlike the music played, tapped a rhythm forgotten by the fingers). When lively a poor, undeserving, smiling child met with dark treasure, toe’s mind lit a sound, seething thought. Sharing with the minstrel this unkempt notion, minstrel sang of the bluest dawn. Nothing barring this crafty charm, the two collected the child, dark, lit by the shy magenta cast of the sky." Thought you might be interested.
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Not really that early | 5:35am sunday, 5th august |
No, it's not Sunday yet, not for me. It's actually about ten thirty pm Saturday night. I have this thing set to Greenwich Mean Time. Yes, I did it on purpose. This internet thing is supposed to be global right? As long as you read English.... Anyway, let's get started.
At the beginning of it all, there were a lot of drugs. That, my friends, was the cause of my descent, plain and simple. Lots of drugs. At first, it was just pot (though in large quantities), but I graduated to LSD in the Spring semester of my freshman year of college. At the spring carnival I rode the little rides they had set up in the student center parking lot and had a tremendously fun time, and I was hooked after that. Nothing really weird happened to me (outside of the normal weirdness of the high) until I had the most intense trip of my life. I'll tell you about that. Soon.
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Everything should work | 9:54pm saturday, 4th august |
This is the inaugural text. Everything should be working as is, as I have tried this site before, but even before I had the domain name, my whole database was deleted. Didn't really think of that as a possibility. Lost about twenty entries I think, no biggie. Anyway, I have a better host now, and things are really cool as we speak.
This is a site about madness. I was a psychotic, really was. I will recount what happened to me in the six years I was ... out of the building. I will try two lines of thought, one chronologically and one as I feel like, switching off as I please. This site is all about that, what I please. I can restrict myself not at all on this site, I think. The about page is a little background, archives will grow, randomness chooses from about thirty different images I've collected, and the search is fully operational on the text (but not the comments). Any correspondence goes to me, Stand <stand@h13.com>.
Have a nice day.
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