6:00 AM - I took the Armodafinil pill at 6:17 after a coffee. Before diving into work, I'll spend time on fanta. i'm on an airplane to berlin and already feel quite good.
7:00 AM - It has started. I can feel the effect kicking in. And slowly it feels like my hands are taking form in a time that is slowing down. Soon, I’ll be completely immersed. Back in the land of impossible speed.
i'm starting to read the power of now. I want to leave a mark here as it feels like a powerful book. Some books take over a person and I want to check a thing or two and make clear here and to myself that there are foundations or points that are dear to me whatever I learn from this book. reading is a core activity. it is the ever-improving process of the self and mind. I do understand the importance of now. happiness is now and nowhere else. courage is the one belief we have. It is the core value. Our purpose is others and reaching courage constantly. Our directions are dictated by who we are.
9:00 AM - It's now 9:16am and the effect has fully kicked in. I look at my hand and a distance appears. I want to put words on it. Consciousness is taking, as it usually does an interesting turn. I make the link between Susan Sontag's "consciousness harnessed into flesh" and "the power of now's" inner body. another dot is drawn first between bacon's meat as described by Kundera and Suzuki's "It's nothing special". enlightenment is nothing special. Interesting that the power of now starts by outlining a purpose. we are important to the universe. I think the meat and universal consciousness are both stories. Both built on top of something. Out of a need maybe. But both are stories. I don't even have an ultimate truth I realize. i would've said choice or consciousness or courage but all these are constructions as well. At the depth of it all is no truth to discover. There is an empty hole. The words are preceding consciousness. I haven't felt the nothingness yet but i am writing it. There is a beautiful german girl to my right. My courage is interesting. This is interesting. I can hear and smell. I can touch. I'm connecting dots. remembering I wanted to write down that thoughts don't attach that well on modafinil. This is crazy. After the kids, a couple of old persons are pushed on wheelchairs into the bus. It's a travel through ages. Rabelais writing himself on the bus ride to Hermanplatz. Old people pushing old people like dead people sustaining each other.
I can clearly see and feel the thoughts slipping through. i can stop thinking in this state. the old people just went off. Let me guess, soon it'll be the kids and the age chapter will be closed. I can stop my thoughts, cancel out the noise and feel strongly there is something deeper than the mind. No appetite as usual. a calm travel this time between a silent mind and an active one. i can feel the touch of the screen against my fingers by focusing on it. the kids just went off the bus. the chapter is closed.
Can i read ? Can i decide to take a book and read it ? It is the same impression i had under hypnosis. I don't want to come out of this state. I wonder whether i keep writing to avoid the waste. i can see the me and the self. The driven and the observant. Fascinating. like a diver looking at a wild shark (i was about to add angry before shark but took it out). my need to write out every single detail and event quite present. i can hear noises very well. there's a layer of gas and thin glass between my consciousness and everything else but it feels like a distinct feeling. reflexes like raising my head to see who entered the bus are still here.
i'm looking at my observant self, wondering what he is doing. and this discussion with Fadi dating from my first year in university comes out. can there be more than just an observant and a self ? can there be an observant that will look at both ? i wonder what will happen if i put this brain in its current state on hacking the soul and mind. On life os. on business and birdback as well.
back to the selves. i see the diver looking at the shark. it represents a feeling however. the second i add another human being. i feel i'm picturing things. the feeling isn't that authentic. for instance, i can see a "me" standing in the water on the ground next to the diver and the shark. now they're both in an aquarium (i'm running out of battery - no exclamation, no craziness, no why or what or nasty words - they wouldn't match the tune that's playing in my mind right now). a third me is outside the aquarium watching. and the whole thing is a painting on a wall that i'm looking at. the only feeling here that i 'feel' is the diver looking at the shark. it represents my observation. i remember the word Switch. switch.
i didn't read. i did come out of a thought vortex where i let my mind loose connecting thought to thought and jumping from one to the other without any control. i'm trying to see the landscape of my mind. there are valleys in some places. deep points like Li or, surprisingly, our neighbours upstairs from back in Lebanon. is this hate anywhere related to what i feel towards Charif today ?
Note ajoutée à Fanta - la 'faction' - (not really Joy, plutôt duke) un groupe de personnes qui va aider d'autres personnes au point de sur-manger, au point de déprimer, au point de boire jusqu'a se saouler … et leur dit que ce n'est pas eux. que cette personne, cette chose, ce comportement n'est pas Eux. leur personne et cette chose sont distinctes.
Et je sens un calme et un courage en regardant le moi qui sur-mange dans les yeux. ce n'est pas moi. c'est un autre moi. il a le biscuit lu dans la main et un bocal de Nutella. il se tient à deux pas. et en même temps ils est loin. je tremble à l'idée de nous voir séparés et distincts ainsi mais je le vois clairement. ce n'est pas mon cerveau modafinil qui regarde uniquement. c'est moi. c'est l'homme qui médite, qui se choisit. le poète qui voyage. je comprends qu'il est autre. je sens mon corps et sa faim mais je vois l'autre partie, l'obsession comme un être distant. c'est clair. c'est autre. et où que se dirige ce bus, je sais que je vais chez moi.
i did the trial of my bingeing self, my ego self and my lazy self. the latter is the one unable to start learning spanish. i could see them, each of them standing in front of me. i then turned the flesh that looked like me into a piece of glass then a colour came to tint that glass.
before the words of Tolle get to me, this is a reminder that we know consciousness comes first. it is from that perpetual prudence and realisation of the word that next steps stem. but first is a state of effective stop (not from Something mind you). then you look and go.
i am not 'searching' for anything. i have It. i have everything i need. my joy is in being. in the moment and my purpose is the motion towards a belief i value. courage. towards giving to others as well. to be fully in the self and the world.