I took the Armodafinil pill at 6:40am UK time. I’m trying to remember what the feeling was like from last time and gather how I quickly the modafinil pill took effect on that saturday. The dosage is 150mg and funny enough the side of the box says “as indicated by psychiatrist”. Funny enough. I want to see how words will flow today. I’m writing Fantas. I wonder if I’ll be more imaginative now. I feel like Charlie Gordon. Wonder if I’ll be more mindful while writing. The characters and what they do.
6:55am: First kick. I do feel something in my head. I feel the train coming into the station like a submarine. The train is leaving very soon. It elves at 7:01am.
7:01am: I found a place on my own. I’m writing the Fanta in french and this text in English. I wonder how the first will affect the second. Effect hasn’t kicked in properly. I feel my usual mind while writing Fanta. The challenge here is that since it’s a Fanta, there are ideas to connect. I believe I’m going to log in the time every hour from now on. So let’s consolidate 7:01am and 7:05am. Words are a bit easier to find in English. I’m easier on the people judgement. I catch it faster and put it to calm. As a side note, I did replace an emerging food craving this morning by cheer mindfulness and awareness of the people and colours around me. The little feeling of sleepiness I had about 20 minutes ago is completely dissipated (it’s 7:20am). I can hear the voice of my thoughts very clearly. I feel a perfection to my posture. Rather a good posture (I can control my pride and ego and remodel adjectives). I’m writing about Aiwa Shtuga. It’s 7:40am. It’s been an hour and patience feels longer than usual. As usual I don’t feel time passing but it seems the pill makes my focus sharper in a way that flow is more accentuated. Is it because it’s the morning or is it the substance ? Has it truly kicked in. It’s 7:57am. I feel great. More mindful when discussing (I asked the ladies behind me whether we were in France already and remarked that it’s time to change sim cards with a smile). I switched from Fanta to social connecting for a moment. And it didn’t feel like a betrayal of my writing. Whether the drug has something to do, I don’t know. I do know it’s the second time De Boton’s remark about “there’s nothing wrong about you” (because you’re interested in celebrity trivia, because you’re attracted to the news, because you check Facebook compulsively on a saturday afternoon, because you feel envy towards Elon Musk, because you go on with your life despite the fact you’ve heard about bombings in Lebanon…). “There’s nothing wrong about you”. Your duty though is to be mindful of your reactions and emotions. Stop, look and go.
9:02am: We just passed the border and are now in France (hence the time change). The thought of passing the border to the UK came to mind again and the fear I usually feel, feels different. It’s more distant and less pressing or stressing. I understand it and see it better. I see my writing speeding and am able of slowing it down. I’m looking at the scenery from the window and I can see things with new eyes. As if I had a new brain. I see details on trees differently. I feel gratitude when I have a strong emotion, Vaité. I’m talking / jumping to Vaité. She said she was scared in the moments of extreme fear (when she’d be jeopardised physically or near to death) that she’d try and reach out to God. I feel I have to say thank you to God when I’m extremely grateful actually. When I was in the emergency room, I did want to pray. I felt vulnerable and was looking at myself stupidly then. I do feel silly when I want to thank Jesus for a moment of extreme joy and blissfulness. “Nothing is wrong about me” however. It’s perfectly normal to want to thank the God you’ve grown up with when in extreme joy and pray him when feeling fear. I want to share this with Vaité. I did feel a bit of uneasiness when writing a FB message to Shérif and a Whats-app message to Ziad. I did distance myself rapidly from the feeling however. I’m growing into a better understanding of these social connection moments. I need to see that the cue is 1) when leaving home in the morning 2) after lunch 3) when leaving work in the evening. Urgent matters are urgent and are dealt with with more immediacy of course (I don’t feel the same feeling of disdain toward the expression “of course” as if the drug - ? - was giving me more maturity and distance towards my feelings and judgements). What I need to understand towards these social connection moments is that the cue being one of the above, the routine is answering messages and following up on meaningful people. The reward is relaxation, social connection and distraction. The words are flowing again and I don’t even feel like drinking the coffee I just bought. I don’t want to change the hour on my watch. I want to get back to the social connection habit but it takes an effort to move my attention and my energy to it. Switch. Let’s try Switch. Switch. The habit can take the time it needs then. It simply needs to occur at the right moments (right cues) and it can take the space it needs. There’s no culpability and nothing else is being ignored because of it. Now back to Fanta. Switch. I feel extremely ready for Birdback work later in the day as well. I don’t have this urgent need of selecting the text incessantly as I usually do when I’m writing, re-reading. I’m focused. The effects are very subtle but extremely powerful. I’m less edgy, less of an excited kid towards my good ideas (such as Aiwa needs to meet and mate with Artsy). I look at them more calmly. What was the definition of maturity ? The responsibility of being oneself ? There is a tune to it. There is a music to maturity. A specific melody (the flow of words is amazing). It is unique and the ear is naturally trained to hear it. Yes. Words are flowing. I realize I’m writing some of the best Fantas I’ve ever written. My joy and gratitude are sky high. My brain is managing this flow of words and emotion reporting while also writing and improving the Fanta. “It’s nothing special” says Suzuki. Enlightenment is nothing special. I feel a beautiful yet not uneasy urge to join the ladies’ discussion, the ones sitting behind. Or even speaking to the man, already speaking on his phone. It is a flow of confidence with sympathy. Sympathy mainly. A joy from inside. And whether it’s the drug or the great writing I don’t know. “It’s nothing special” said Suzuki. Meaning once you’re there, you realize it’s not that unique. You’re not proud and boasting. You got there by using your hands and your feet and you can see the traces and the scars on your soul. These bruises are yours. The words are flowing. They are both familiar and original and the sentences have a spirit of risk and forward-thinking baked into them. I’m forgetting to drink the coffee. I can’t yawn. The yawn of the woman behind me didn’t influence me. As if this are was blocked by the drug (?). Switch.
10:00am: I have enough courage and patience. Strike that. Courage is my OS. I have enough stamina to pursue any task for as long as possible. The drug is extending my capacity to take on work. I don’t look at the end of a task. I look at the pleasure I’m getting out of it and enjoy it fully. I am deeply grateful to Cristo, to God, to all the pills left in my bag. Less to the pills. I feel the moment is over-arching and all-powerful. I am extremely happy. And I feel and understand as well that none of this all is “special”. This is the way things are. I can hear every single sound. I just noticed that if I’m trying to be mindful and aware about everything around me, I can single out every single sound and melody in my environment. I don’t want this Eurostar trip to ever end. But I do understand it will and it doesn’t hurt me deeply that it will. I feel the continuing movement and I see the rest of my day as a logical and precise flow. I will buy a table the second I get to the fifth precinct. It is “nothing special”. It is the way things are. And I stop. And I see the train speeding on the rails, blazing through nature, and I realize I am here in the universe. In the middle of universe I wrote at first. Not out of solipsism but rather due to my perception of things. The stars feel nearby. Tyson’s quote about the ego comes to mind. His expressions and his childlike way of being emotional. Words flow well. Switch.
Between 10am and 12:16pm: (Written on my phone). Extreme patience towards people in the train. no insulting thoughts towards their slowness or the like. Heightened order and discipline.
The black man opens a door without a smile then let's me through while disregarding my smile. i catch my overdone smile first but i also catch my feeling towards his indifference and this emotion is between my fingers. as if i could bin it. the old concept of riding passing thoughts is exactly that: old.
Sweaty armpits like last time, like in every fasting productive morning as well.
No delusions. My cold isn't gone for example, though it’s a bit calmer now in the train station. drug isn't making me delusional, thinking it does more than what it does. passing lady speaking alone. i spot the emerging judgement and bin it. or maybe let it pass so quickly it's gone. it's deep non-attachment to thoughts. as if there'd be a profusion and there's no need to get attached.
i am noting everything systematically. i do feel i can move on. all noises are present. the constant thought that “this is something else”. the fleeting thought that i'd like to write all of this down in french so it ends up in a Fanta. The rediscovery of the common. suddenly i see every letter in the word “Fanta”. The sound, the uniqueness, the flow of the word. at one moment walking in the station i did feel like a reminiscence of coke. side note, taking the pill today, this experience, these pills will not be shared with anyone. i can see the anatomy of a decision. i'm thinking aiwa's decisions should have colours or specific physiques. there is a hint of perfectionism as i want to fix words' ortography such as physique above and feel the need to indicate what was the original mistake. what if i resist ? i need to tell the girl the exit is on this side. as if i want to fix the entire world.
Profusion of thoughts. back to the link with coke when i'm walking. i didn’t walk the last time. it's this speediness to thoughts and movements. amphetamines.
i feel i can't lose a thought. there i feel i have lost one. i was looking at dr john (a commercial in the train for a singer). now i'm not. how different is this from my clacking teeth when i was on coke. let's try and take a decision and move. simple the cue will be the word we've been using. switch.
il est midi moins 3 minutes. et je pleure je pleure je pleure que mes pensées ne puissent pas aller à une vitesse supérieure à celle des mots. ils glissent lorsque je les récite et je ne peux les arrêter sur la pente verglacée de l'oublie. je dois je dois je dois écrire. je dois retenir ces pensées. comme une bille qu'on arrête sur le trottoir glacé. je dois maintenir la puissance du souvenir.
12:30pm: 3 separate episodes. The first one on the way home. I walked into the drawing store for the first time. I asked her about material for serigraphy. I was confident and nice and smiling. I wonder what her perception was. The second one is at the “quincaillerie” where I bought a table and negotiated its price down from 39 euros to 30 euros while smiling and conniving him I’ll be a returning client. The table is perfect btw and my back is straight.
I also talked to Charif in a very calm and focused manner. I didn’t see any confused expression on his face and I wasn’t judging, and still am resistant to doing so, his reactions to my comments. I didn’t even write “speed of reactions” as this seemed as a judgement in itself. Writing it this way in a separate sentence however removes it one-fold and hence takes away the feeling of judgement. It is a genuine resistance to judgement however. I do want to keep note of my feelings and thoughts however.
A call with Arun went very well. I could recall every single detail regarding our clients and connections, was proactive and could retrieve all the information from my mind in a precise and quick manner. I’m giving myself until 12:40am before switching to work. I’m giving myself room to write down feelings, emotions and behaviour.
Ego, Mindfulness, Empathy. How are these doing under the drug? I believe ego is a big word here. I do have confidence but am wary and mindful of the impact on people my words have. I react in real-time with a personality aligned with my inner values. Words are flowing. I still have 3 minutes. Perfectionism, respect of deadlines. Discipline. I did feel self-celebratory after lowering the price for the table. However, the feeling was subdued. The big distinctive point of my state is that of utter non-attachment. Ego is hence a passing feeling. Mindfulness is present. I can’t feel my body, physically much. I can feel some cold in my fingers. I can see my fingers extremely differently from how I usually do. So it is a sense of change in my brain much more than in my senses. I can see my fingers differently because my brain analyses the input differently. Let’s try and see for touching. Yes, if I focus on how I’m interpreting the caress of my Mac, it is quite unique.
The anatomy of decisions is an interesting concept. I was about to write “great idea” but censored myself as I’m mindful of self-congratulating. Auto-censorship is an interesting point. To finish up before switching : Empathy. I do feel the presence of other people. I know they are there. I’m extremely mindful of not judging. The feeling of non-attachement is also present in my interactions an perception of others.
4:25pm: Effect completely worn off. Probably an hour or more ago. Especially felt when I started eating lunch and afterwards