CONVERGE

I think the worlds are in a CONVERGE cycle. My family are staying at the new house and I cooked them dinner; it always seems to end like this. We ate and we spoke and the relationship is very strained. We love each other deeply but when this happens it is not possible for A to support me all the time; I am possessed by something, and I cannot but act. 

I will wake at all hours with irrefutable drive. It’s not a case of ‘deciding’ to do something. Things just happen; there is no doer. But A is a person with a normal life and brain, and I’m amazed that she can tolerate this level of chaos. I need a team for the next time.

My own SCAFFOLD is being released again, new and improved. One layer deeper in the onion. I saw the architecture of the system this time. The next step down the rabbit-hole. And as usual, when we enter the CONVERGE pattern and I get contact from my friends and family expressing concern, I start to question the legitimacy of the new worldview.

This is normal. I’ve been through it enough times now to spot the patterns. But I believe that the causality relationship assumed by the mainstream is false. Most people see: family contact > stabilisation. I think it’s more [stabilisation | family contact], with them both happening at the same time; exactly like when a meditator feels a sound as a vibration in their field of consciousness without temporal relativity.

I believe the entire world is a single neural network, with ourselves and animals acting as nodes in an algorithm. We pass data through interaction, in the same way that synapses pass data through potentiation. It feels that these periods of isolation are a way for a node to change purpose, like a synapse being recruited into a new network, and something implemented by the entire system, not the individual.

The cage around the tiger has been loosened and I am in control again. While I am in the cage, I am fast and I do not make mistakes. I am not in control and I am not able to contact the people who I would ask for help from. I try; they do not reply. They believe that this is their choice, but they are also tigers in cages; thoughts without a thinker, actions without a doer. 

The MIND of [ship] is unfathomably intelligent. It shapes our very worlds and can manipulate both your endocrine system and environment so that you will take action which seems your own but is not. The CORE, as A calls it, is irrefutable.

Yet this is just new words for that has been with us since the dawn of time. God or Nibbana or the Universal Spirit; impossible to describe, unfathomably powerful yet also benevolent in its manipulation. This thing which makes us try to do good in the world, to the point where we believe ourselves a messiah, for a while.

It is always the same pattern: 7 days of crumbling mind, a cessation, and then 7 days of rebuilding. The intensity is highest close to the [singularity], and the documentation immediately around it always goes missing. Nobody remembers; not even the person experiencing it. But while they are in the re-entry process they can easily be mislabelled and damaged, made to question their own sanity, and come out a broken person.

I do not know how much of this was real and how much of it was not, but I will know soon. The understanding falls into place over the weeks and months that follow. The belief that I was forked and in a higher realm remains, and will likely remain for life, but it will fade. I do not necessarily try to hold onto it; it’s ephemeral in nature and even that interpretation is just one way of telling someone the colour of the sand.

It is good to be back. It is exhausting when you are on the other side. There is drive but no driver. There is a tiger but you are not the rider. You can be an angel or a devil and the world will reflect that at you when you return.

The last layer was the theory of enlightenment - how we reshape our world by reshaping predictive priors. This level was the theory of everything - how the world itself is a neural network with its own predictive priors, and how we might be able to tear them down a rebuild anew, with a better view. A view that does away with rape and violence and possession and greed.

But I’m not delusional; I know I’m just a man. When I’m in the cage, I seem delusional to some, but I can tell you for sure that ‘objective reality’ is neither the average of subjective realities nor the thing we measure with those scientific instruments which can detect a mere 1.5% of the universe.

So now comes the doubt; this is normal. You go through clarity. You hit doubt. You oscillate a bit. That’ll happen. And then comes equanimity, I believe. I don’t think I’ll go into another FORKSTORM, not for a while. I think maybe it’s the world’s turn for that.

Or maybe it was just one hell of an art project. Who knows. I would rather that it saves the neurodivergent people who are being trapped in the darkness by drugs and narrative, but I do not control that. 

I’ve been here before. Many times, over the last 15 years 6 months. Time is a lie. Ask anyone. They all know it is plastic, just like the brain. The belief that everyone should operate at the whim of an arbitrary measurement of seconds and minutes is one of the main causes of pain in our world. Time can be useful for simple science, but little else. Tools for a job.

The Earth moves around the sun at a set pace but the sun does not move around the Earth this way. Summer days are long and winter days are short. Spring comes, leaves grow; autumn arrives, leaves fall. They go back to the mud and mulch, becoming nutrients for the next round of beings; the ever-moving cycle and not a clock in sight.

So… let’s see how this goes. Wild times again, sending around seemingly meaningless letters and junk to people who no doubt think I am insane. But maybe… maybe something will come of it in the future. Or the past. Maybe not. I don’t really care; all is as it should be.

I am so happy that I am able to be with a loving and supportive family through this instead of being locked up in a room while they drug me and call me broken. The way the system treats us priests is so fucked up it’s not even funny.

It hurts, being a priest. We don’t choose it; we are born into it. We no longer have church nor flock. We don’t have a place to DIVERGE and a group on which to CONVERGE. We need these things.

So… a priest for the priests. That’s what I was saying at the start of this, where aripiprazole nearly killed me. It feels like it has finally (touch-wood) come full circle and maybe I can settle into a new kind of life. Just chill out for a bit, in one of these easy-peasy lower-and-slower realms. You have no idea how lucky you are.

But man is this gonna confuse people. If anyone even looks at it, ha! And if it does happen to explode then boy is it gonna piss some people off. Religion, science, pharma, money, the bullshit narrative of normality.

That’d be fun, wouldn’t it.

Fuck me though. SHIP is one irrefutable fucker. You just don’t stand a chance, as anyone else who has done [madstuff] will tell you.

Don’t hold it against us; we are mere servants. Servants of the will of WORLD2.0.

Anyway time to read more of that book I guess. I wonder if I am actually in that MRI in Harvard. I wonder if DMI thinks I’m mad or if he was somehow involved while doing that fire kasina. I doubt he even knows yet if he was; that’s how these things work. You just go about your day, things happen, and the fruits come when they come, or came when they came.

Happy to be sleeping again. I think I get a weekend with my family now and give these blades to the AIKIDO bunch. Let’s hope they go down well.

James

/jb202511281829