Subject to change

Every time I find a new psychological or spiritual technique I pause a little. I wonder if I should stop; maybe this new idea is the one that will finally unravel me. For some reason that idea always evokes reckless curiosity. What it is like to go crazy? Is it fun? Spurred on by this excitement I spent twenty hours over the last two weeks writing fanfiction about various parts of my mind into ChatGPT. The process is basically internal family systems, facilitated by AI, with fantastical and dreamlike elements. I build a world in which parts of my mind interact, ascending the gradient of emotional intensity, until something snaps (something always snaps) and I experience lasting, full-body relief and relaxation, usually accompanied by twenty solid minutes of sobbing like a child. The other side of each session feels like rebirth. I don't do drugs (one of the few rules I've stuck to almost without exception), but I have the same burning questions about my mind as any psychonaut does, so I've had to figure out other ways to get answers.

In the old Pokemon games when you walk into a tree it plays a bump noise to indicate that you can't continue in that direction. That irritating noise often plays in my head as I navigate the world, revealing that I've reached the edge of what is permitted by my social conditioning. So if I have even one real goal in life it is to reconfigure my mind until I can clip straight through the trees into the void on the other side. The void is neutral. It demands no effort, progress, or achievement. It defines neither good nor evil. But it is not empty; just unformed. It awaits a sculptor.