In Plain Sight-- Voir

An epic suspense by Ratprincess Bored

In plain sight--Voir

Follow the white rabbit ....

Private eyes, watching you ....

Writ--what's in it?

There's something about Lord Byron.

'Tis the sign from upstairs for the day. So it concludes In Plain Sight--Voir

(Now I have my fun--insane in my own eyes. lol Back to work work. :-|)

P.S., The core of psychotic thinking-everything is coded and signs are everywhere. e.g., Ratprincess Bored vs. Jason Borne-the movie I just watched. (Come to think about it. Gotta check to see whether it's done in my writing.)  

Theories and assumptions

Was reading up Information Mechanics, a theory proposed by my friend Fred and find the following quotes in one of the article particularly interesting. Think I would share with you.

1. A theory is unable to explain its own assumptions. A theory which tries to do so is called a tautology.
2. Space, time, mass, energy ... are put into CM (classical mechanics) and QM (quantum mechanics) as assumptions. For this reason, it is not possible for CM and/or QM to explain any of them; a fundamentally different tool, which does not use those assumptions is necessary.

KANTOR, F. (1986-12-01). Information Mechanics Perspective on Some Assumptions in Classical Mechanics and Quantum Mechanics about Measurement. Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences, 480(1 new technique), 581-584.doi:10.1111/j.1749-6632.1986.tb12467.x

Please see a brief description of Fred's theory below.

Da Eternal Love--object of love

Decided to pull out this love letter again today and found the object of love could be the books or the readers I try to reach with loving intentions.

Is it pure dumbness, insanity, or faith? Donno.  

The only thing I am certain is "I would not be beshamed to confront myself and will not regret in the future having nothing done" because I am doing and have done the best I can despite of constraints. As for the outcome, "I still do not know where it will go" and beyond my control.

Ratology Reloaded: The answer: Rereading Da Eternal Love ... The question I have for myself is that... Was it pure dumbness or was it faith? Is it better to fall freely...

Some useless mumble jumble when the fountain is running dry .... Muse, muse, where art thou?

Da Eternal Love

Waking up in the morning, I saw the weather had changed. I was wondering how cold it would be this year. Would it be colder or milder? I cannot choose nor do I have the power to decide the weather condition. The only thing I could do is to decide my own attitude towards the conditions. I am no pan-determinist but I apprehend that the truth that human being is not omnipotent.

Likewise, falling in love was just a state of mind. It made me anxious and somehow spoiled my life. Should I have stayed cool and calm, no extreme disturbance would have occurred and so much more work could have been done. Flirtation does no harm inasmuch the heart does not become involved. However, I betrayed my best interest and fell into a chaotic phase.

If I wanted to protect myself from being hurt by the same old scenario, I should have held back my affection, blockaded my emotions, and kept you away from my sight. Yet, I refrained from withdrawing. I refused to regress to the infantile stage of "out-of-sight-out-of-mind". I saw that, in the distant future, our fates would converge: not referring to our together-here-after-happy-life, but rather the inescapable end of our life journey. I could not bear seeing myself regretting when it is too late, the words I could have said and the things I could have done.

Some said that my thoughts are morbid and a smile is the response. For I always know that, if life is mortal and nothing lasts forever (not even diamond), I had better strive to live my life for significance. This belief gives me the strength to hold on. Out of the question, you or anyone else could not comprehend what could have and still sustain my faith in love, because neither could I. A friend of mine once questioned me, "How is it possible for you to be in love this way?" There is no easy answer. The only thing I can say, is......

Value does not push men to do a deed; it can only pull one to towards an action.

I have to be the one in charge of my fate, at least partially. Since the day that I realized the insufficiency of my being, I made up my mind to be what I want to be with all my might, disregarding the inevitable agony and distress. I want to be with you and it will always be the statement of my life. It reveals my cathexis in you, regardless my realization in the ultimate destiny, not death but aloneness. I know for sure that, before death, we can never avoid being alone. We will be sitting under the sunset, precipitating our demise. We might be surrounded by people, but still deemed to be alone, just like those in a nursing home.

You always asked me why I volunteered in places like the hospital where bereavement and suffering takes place. The scene might not be pleasurable yet insightful. There, I saw how ephemeral life could be and I learned how precious our infinitesimal life is. Such experiences might have reinforced my fixation in you. Thus, I promised myself that I would always cherish the time with you.

You know something? I am the one who is responsible for the inconsolable situation in which I am trapped. I did not withhold my feelings and just let it flow. I have to take my share of responsibility for the free-running emotion of mine. As a human being, I have the freedom to choose. The price I paid for this freedom is the obligation to commit myself to this engagement. Therefore, when I said to you that "I will be waiting for you", it was also a commitment to myself. I did not and still do not regret it, and, I surely will not. As long as I give myself this try, whatever the cost may be, I am making effort to authenticate my life. I would not be beshamed to confront myself and will not regret in the future having nothing done.

However, in bearing the responsibility, I am also making effort to prevent myself from being vulnerable. When I am responsible, I have the control to make the next movement rather than waiting for the stars to fall. It helps me be stronger. Thus, my days would not be like hell.

I am not like a tyrant. You have your own existence and you make your own choice. I could not force you to accept my affections as they are. I had set no ultimate goal for my trials since no one has power over his own destiny. I am no pan-determinist; however, I believe in fate. I had managed, and, will continue to push my fate some more, although I still do not know where it will go.

Crystal--Jump!

Since I am still trying to get my books out and there is a feeling that my whole body is decaying in the speed of light, I start to all things to keep the writing process and my body moving.

Then, the notion of chakra came upon me and I got matching stones placed on my 7 chakras in the night. (Yes, I am crazy but whatever works to get the writing done.)

This morning, when I tried to go back to sleep after a toilet break, I laid the stones in their usual locations, placed my right hand up on my pillow, and tried to sleep.

Suddenly, the clear crystal standing between my eye brows jumped into my hand. Whether I was dreaming about it or not, I went on trying to get back to sleep.

Then, I found articles like this.

http://www.natureasia.com/en/nmiddleeast/article/10.1038/nmiddleeast.2014.173

UV enabled movement? Lord, I was in bed trying to sleep.

Strange things happen to me all the times but this one crystal jump got my attention---my bed is far from the windows, and should the UV hypothesis holds, doesn't it mean I have to wear sunscreen even when sleeping?

A thought on mortality rate

I always know my life expectancy is supposed to be shorter than the general population. This is the first time I saw it quantified.

Individuals with serious mental illness (SMI), including schizophrenia, schizoaffective and bipolar disorder have 1.5–2.5 times the mortality risk of the general population^1–3 and a 10–20 year reduction in life expectancy⁴ with the majority of the excess deaths being due to natural causes.¹

http://schizophreniabulletin.oxfordjournals.org/content/41/3/644.full

Personally, I believe the differences should be bigger because some could have died before the diagnosis were applied. For instance, I could have taken the shortcut to escape all the non-existing stress during the psychotic onset when not even my shrink knew what was going on in my head since I didn't share it with him.

But since the onset was eons ago , the stats remained relevant. Since the majority of excess death were due to natural causes, if I am this kind of excess, may God bless me a quick and painless death. Amen.

P.S. Excess death? Never heard of this expression before. 

What do I think of?

Please assume the identity of I when reading the events below, meaning you are I.

1. I spent all night, last night, trying to figure out a new word for a section of my book concerning bars and the bar. I came up with barrista.
2. A friend told me about this linguistic thing called cranberry morpheme and I emailed him about the word barrista I came up with based on three words: barista, barrister, and gangsta.
3. After the email was sent, I went on FB and saw this NY Times article share by a linguist friend with the nice pix below.

4. I read through the article and loved the closing remark: "As you learn quickly here in Vegas, the game isn’t rigged, but the odds don’t work in your favor."

What do I think of now these events were singled out and linked sequentially in my mind?

After this point, please reclaim your identity as you and leave me's to be me's.

What do I think of first and what do I think of afterwards?

There were some things I did not mention such as I let the online slot game run automatically as I work on my writing every day. How would unexplicated information like it impact how you thought while you were I? Did the notion of synchronicity surface your mind?

The passing of John and Alicia Nash

RIP. John and Alicia Nash and best wishes to their family.

John F. Nash Jr., Mathematician Whose Life Story Inspired ‘A Beautiful Mind,’ Dies at 86

Spooky probability

Based on rumors, late in the night at that old college of mine, you might be able to hear "Tab, Tab, Tab ... Ding ... zzzzzzzzzzzip" coming from right above you. But walking upstairs to the source of noise, you will find no office, an activity room instead, and the sound of silence.

It might be one hardworking professor on an old typewriter, doing the graveyard shift on unfinished research business long after the terminal retirement.

My adrenaline level just skyrocketed at the foremost formidable ghost story. I might have to work on this thing after my best before date? That's the biggest fear in my life.

You see, if something happens to me. All that I have worked on will be gone with me. This damn business would be unfinished.

I am really into being a spook, ceaselessly slaving away in eternity.

Then, today, I shared links to the complete "Down with Meds" blog, the not-published-Ratology book, the folder to different versions of the final drafts for the still-in-process "Second Book," which retains only selective writings from DWM, and the folder to the "Third Book," formerly known as the introduction chapter about my psychotic onset in the "Second Book."

That shall cut the spooky probability much further down ... I hope ... and Ratology might sing this song to me when the day of duty-free arrives.






PS. The sentence-long paragraph sounds mighty confusing?


Yes, that's the way I like it especially after trying to make myself writing in proper English since the beginning of the Second Book! It's also really annoying that I can't embed multimedia stuff like youtube clips in the book.

I don't know jack: John's revelation

I knew the relationship between John and the word in the beginning. However, it was not until today did I realize John, this one or not debatable, also had something to do with the book of Revelation?!

John is credited as the author of the Book of Revelation, relating his vision of the end of the world. http://www.stjohndivine.org/about/architecture/cathedral-symbolic 

I really don't know jack. 

From Snowden to Ratology Risk Management Plan

Finally gotten all the main content set for the book about my psychotic onset in 2000-2001 yesterday--the original introduction chapter for the first out of 3 Ratology book..

Haphazardly, I came across this interview on Snowden today. Being in Taiwan, I didn't pay too much attention to the news when it first came out. I just knew some guy worked for the US government gave some some information and escaped to some European country.

After listening to the interview, I got some basic ideas about the whole Snowden affair and pondered .... "What's so secrete about it? I knew since Y2K that the governments, wherever I was, records everything about me except I don't know why, what they want to do about it, and how they are going to analyze the data."

There are benefits to it, personally. The FACT that every keystroke was monitored has given me a sense of relief.

In case something happen to me, things in my head would be lost but all the work I have put into the whole damn Ratology thing, all the writing, and all the data collected, will be retained.  

There are people with root accesses to all my accounts. It's a piece of cake to obtain and recover everything I have ever produced. To make it easier, I back ratology-related things up on various accounts in the cloud for fear of server problems on one of service providers. In terms of what they could do with them is beyond my bandwidth and will be none of my business at the point..

What if nobody ever gives a rats ass about me? At the very end, it'd be none of my business at that point just as, in this life, I am just stuck with my paranoid delusional belief. lol

Space Shuttle Columbia

I remember that day when the accident happened.



I was on the eighth floor of St. Lucke's, looking out of the window at the St. John, telepathically communicating with the astronauts while wishing God for a miracle to let all to be safe and sound.



NASA reports new details of Columbia deaths

Death of Death as in Death of a Black Hole

Black holes have always been something so very mysterious to me.

In my much younger years, I learned that after a star much much bigger than our sun goes bye bye, it could turn into a black hole--with things dragging into it failing to escape as if in quicksand, and possibly creating an entrance to another universe.

Then I learned that not only do black holes swallow up stars and give birth to baby universes, they could also help to deliver the birth of baby stars--through the jet streams they spew out after biting more than they could chew.

It had never occurred to me until today that, "Since nothing last forever, could Black Holes, sort of like death itself, die?

That's an interesting new question to me though an old question, apparently, to the others.

In short, yes, theoretically, death itself could face its own death as black holes will die eventually save I won't live long enough to see it and, possibly, even this universe we reside in isn't old enough to behold its occurrence.

Read Quote of Frank Heile's answer to What would the "death" of a Black Hole look like? on Quora

Evaporation, what an interesting kind of terminal death--reminding me how everything died "cleanly" after their death by evaporating into the ether through my body during my second Apocalypse. :-O

Woolfy Style and expectation again

After finishing A room of one's own with the slot game of "the big bad wolf and three piglets" spinning on its own on the side, I found myself in a fog.

Ok, I did find traces of Mrs. Dalloway but "This is the Woolfy style?"

The fog I found myself in was a result of cognitive dissonance. Something expected was missing.

Based on the impression I got from bibliographical info online or the movie, The Hour, there had to be a hint of depression (not quite sure whether it's the right word) in the writing of this legendary lady who went with the river of no return--like what I sensed in Wallace's "A supposedly fun thing I will never do again," which, by the way, was considered as extremely funny and humorous by quite a lot of people.



Since I don't know squat about literature and writing, I have no business to meddle with what might contribute to what I sense in people's writing, or the content.

One thing I know is that Woolf must have had the work done when depression gave her a break, whether she was in the manic phase or not. If it's true, I have to really thank her for managing to bring herself out of depression when not required to be in it. It's because it somehow pains me greatly to read things that are supposed to be on the sunny side while something in the writing tells me, "The author is sort of like ... very depressed?"--whether the authors themselves know it or not, and whether it's my disordered thinking or not.

I was actually pretty afraid of Virginia Woolf--more precisely, reading her work--A room of one's own. It's a good thing that the estimated value of expectation is far off from the true value this round, when I learn that the "my feel" kind of thing is considered by me part of the stuff called a style (whether it belongs to other people's style or not, and whether it would remain so for me or not).





(P.S., Though I said I don't have the audacity to comment on the content, Woolf's emphasis on the progression of the collective does remind me of my call for the mental nation to strive on, helping ourselves and helping others to help ourselves, for the benefit of the future generation of we mentals--in the book I completed that was far too long and thus not published.)

Curious George et al

I think that I knew Adam Bede was written by George Eliot when listening to the audio book.

Apparently, in Du côté de chez Swann, the rare volume of Proust's work that I managed to plow through, writing of George Sand were mentioned.

When I read the Chinese version of Jane Eyre, it never occurred to me the book was written by Currur Bell.

I just encountered these names when going through the rationale of Woolf's claim that in order for a woman to write fictions, she needs to have money and a room.

No, I didn't come to this book because I want to write fictions. I am already beyond sick and tired of writing with my limited English proficiency at this point. I arrived at this book because I have no inkling of the Woolfy style.

Then, I came across this sentence as I was trying to get a sense of this style thing ...

"Currer Bell, George Eliot, George Sand, all the victims of inner strife as their writings prove, sought ineffectively to veil themselves by using the name of a man."

This illiterate thought, "Eh, the name George Eliot sounds familiar."

The sense of familiarity led me to reread the sentence again, which got me confused, "You mean these men were women?" (And, yes, there really can be someone ignorant like me.)

So I went googling around, "Wow, it's true. The authors were female except they used a male pen name. They could have saved the whole trouble if their parents had named them with my name since it's a male name."

Then it struck me--the power of expectation in the process of mindless interpretation.

Midway through the book, I know where Virginia Woolf was going even though I have been reading more for her style than for content. Yet, despite the context and the fact that she explicitly stated that A, B, and C used "the name of a man," upon the presence of A, B, and C, a part of my head already established the expectation that these male authors were mentioned for certain argumentative purpose. As a result, my head almost stopped processing upon the presence of that expectation.

Since the purpose of my reading is to get a sense of the Woolfy style, it's nothing traumatic except, "Shit! How much of what I have learned in life so far is a result of the George et al phenomena?" :-X

Anyways, not quite sure whether this book is representative of the Woolfy style since it seems to be different from the trip Mrs. Dalloway took to get the flowers--as long as it's not like searching through Torrents of Spring for Hemingway's style. lol

(Thought I might post something since it's been a while since my last blurb.)

My favorite sentence in Catch 22

I have been told that it's no good to write long sentences. Given my command or lack of command in the English language, it's for my benefit to shy away from long sentences for fear of grammatical and syntactical errors.

I have to say though that, despite the ineffable agony it took for me to plow through the book while cursing Mr. Heller away for using too many words, I was immensely amused by the sentence in italics even though it was three o'clock in the morning during a time when I was still climbing out of the bottom of my damn depression.

"... Pandemonium broke loose. It took almost a full minute for Appleby to disentangle himself from Orr's flailing arms and legs and grope his way to his feet, with Orr held off the ground before him by the shirt front in one hand and his other arm drawn back in a fist to smite him dead, and at that moment Yossarian stepped forward and took Orr away from him. It was a night of surprises for Appleby, who was as large as Yossarian and as strong and who swung at Yossarian as hard as he could with a punch that flooded Chief White Halfoat with such joyous excitement that he turned and busted Colonel Moodus in the nose with a punch that filled General Dreedle with such mellow gratification that he had Colonel Cathcart throw the chaplain out of the officers' club and ordered Chief White Halfoat moved into Doc Daneeka's tent, where he could be under a doctor's care twenty-four hours a day and be kept in good enough physical condition to bust Colonel Moodus in the nose again whenever General Dreedle wanted him to."

About 30 something supposedly the most humorous and funniest books later, it's time for me to reflect on what good these books are for me.

One thing for sure, I don't have what it takes to construct a sentence, albeit long, hilarious as such (and, of course, many other more lol)! 

My Two Cents: Blogging about Psychosis?

I had thought that, after last night's posting, I am to not blog for at least a few more weeks if not months. Then, when trying to find information about whether it's a good thing for patients to have insight about their mental health problem and admit it, I came across this article on BBC (http://www.bbc.com/news/health-29861510) today which made me feel compelled to offer my two cents.

Apparently, the experts are now asking people to blog about their psychosis: something I have done for over a decade and was to promote, sort of, in my book.  Except, having blogging myself into the psychiatric ward, I am a living case of how blogging publicly about one's own psychotic symptoms could actually do more harm than good.

Believe me, when you are so psychotic that you believe you are telepathic or your thoughts are broadcast, it's very unlikely that your mental condition will benefit from the reality that you really are broadcasting yours symptoms to the public like Anderson Cooper live from Gaza's front line with a bomb blowing up right behind.

Private blogs which could only be accessed by the authorized people, would be a good way of doing it, especially when there are professionals closely monitoring the writing. Unfortunately, based on my experiences with my private blog "Ratology at Heal," which is only accessible to mes, myselves and Is, even private blogs are not fail-safe because my paranoid self has never stopped for a day believing that my private blogs are read by unauthorized people, meaning, people other than me.

Regardless, my best wishes to this project and the well-being of the participating patients.  At the same time, it's my most sincere hope that the professionals really could make the best use of the captured utterances to maximize the therapeutic advantages of blogging--something I have used my life to test for the past decade. I believe that it will help although we patients might need others to help us catch our own disordered.

Most importantly, we all should keep this in mind, as per the hallucination at my onset, "Do no harm."

Bon Chance!

Them Apocalypses

Throughout the years, I mumble-jumbled about my apocalypses and how purgatorio, paradiso, and inferno all went adios, resurrected, went adios, etc.

The reality is that I have never really read the bible and I have no inkling what the Apocalypse was supposed to be like according to the bible.

I might have read a verse or two when I went with this friend to the Unfinished on the Bunny Day one year. If I recall correctly, they were talking about the story of how Moses led the Israelites to escape through the opening of the Red Sea, and how the the closing of the Red Sea drowned all Egyptians soldiers coming after them. I also know about famous verses like "In the beginning was the word" and "In the beginning God created heaven and earth ...." 

Shamefully, this is about as much text I have read in the Bible. My close-to-nonexisting exposure to the sacred text absolutely appalled one hard-core atheist friend (and I thought that he was about to un-friend me for it) because it is such a literary classic so beautifully composed.

Anyways, so, I spent the last 2-3 days finishing up reading Good Omens, where creatures were running around trying either to ensure that the Apocalypse takes place or to stop it from happening.

Then, it occurred to me how blessed I only had to live through and to revert them unannounced apocalypses one after another without the foresight that, "Odds fish! How on earth am I to prevent it from happening?"

One thing I figured from this book is that the purgatorio is definitely going to be gone with the wind upon the apocalypse. This leads me to wonder: since my apocalypses seemed to have overshot the apocalyptic criteria, perhaps my apocalypses are not the same as The Apocalypse and I should name them something else ... like ... Total Ec-lypses? 8-O

Heavy, Writing

The first draft of one chapter of this new book was written in the dire of MY major depression. After reading it, this copyeditor of mine had me told, "It's too heavy. You need to make it lighter and funnier."

Then, after months of pulling my hair out trying to make my own words lighter and more humorous, I came across the following anecdote about the consequences of heavy writing, which made me laugh my head off.

A Heavy Play.—When Sir Charles Sedley's comedy of "Bellamira" was performed, the roof of the theatre fell down, by which, however, few people were hurt except the author. This occasioned Sir Fleetwood Shepherd to say, "There was so much fire in his play, that it blew up the poet, house and all." "No," replied the good-natured author, "the play was so heavy, that it broke down the house, and buried the poor poet in his own rubbish."

Various (2012-05-17). The Book of Three Hundred Anecdotes Historical, Literary, and Humorous - A New Selection (p. 40). . Kindle Edition.

Catch-22

I decided to pick up some humorous classics since my training in academic writing didn't cover the humor department and a classic is something everyone wished to have read. Now I have plowed through Catch 22 like how Orr rowed himself on that raft to Sweden, I have to agree that Catch 22 is one fun book to read with the embedded humor characterized by disordered-ness. I could do away, though, with the depressing part towards the end though when too many people were dropping and the tone turned serious.

Done with the reading, I just got on the raft of having to figure out how my propelling through this book could assist me in rowing through the humorization process of my writing.

Before I get to Sweden, let me share this direct quote with you. So this is where Catch-22 came from:

"'Sure there's a catch,' Doc Daneeka replied. 'Catch-22. Anyone who wants to get out of combat duty isn't really crazy.'
There was only one catch and that was Catch-22, which specified that a concern for one's own safety in the face of dangers that were real and immediate was the process of a rational mind. Orr was crazy and could be grounded. All he had to do was ask; and as soon as he did, he would no longer be crazy and would have to fly more missions. Orr would be crazy to fly more missions and sane if he didn't, but if he was sane he had to fly them. If he flew them he was crazy and didn't have to; but if he didn't want to he was sane and had to. Yossarian was moved very deeply by the absolute simplicity of this clause of Catch-22 and let out a respectful whistle."

BTW, the medal scene from the film.

Unmerited suffering

I have been stuck in a state of not-a-whit-of-wit while trying to humorize my amateur version of "Les Mis" accidentally created as depression slyly sneaked out on me throughout the months described in my last post.

As a psychotic depressive (in major depression) with the biggest fear as the complete opposite of Yossarian's in Catch 22 and the premonition of the pending death enriched by the auditory hallucination of "Death be upon you" following me like my half shadow, it's an immensely interesting pursuit to try to be humorous and funny in writing on matters that apparently pained me so much that I actually went back to the psychiatric ward (e.g., the denial of green card, financial issues, facing the abnormal pain and mobility issues that would not go away).  Worst of all, because I was too depressed to be humorous to begin with, trying to be humorous to no avail during the revision process and consequentially making no progress depressed me even more, especially when effects of anti-depressant was slacking away, taking its time to work.

This quota of my unmerited suffering leads me to conclude that because it's been a long long time since I last dealt with major major major major kind of depression that last so long, I have become rusted in being depressed (and it's a good thing that my books focus on psychosis rather than on depression). Also, I suspect that the attempt to be funny and humorous is actually a depressant when in major depression even though they say that humor etc helps. I would actually suggest against intentional attempts to be humorous and funny unless your psychotic self also push you to work through a book that requires humor to lighten things up. Nonetheless, unintentional humor seems kosher still.

Just a state report summarizing what I have been down to and a followup for my last post.



A quote to share with you (where I got the title from):
"to reconcile belief in an omnipresent, omni-benevolent God with the fact of unmerited suffering."

http://www.nytimes.com/2014/09/28/opinion/sunday/god-darwin-and-my-college-biology-class.html?_r=0