Wednesday, January 16, 2013

164

Thursday, January 17, 2013, 2:41AM

Honestly, I had it.

I had a tulpa.

It was... how many weeks ago?

I was in the snow, just thinking. I had been narrating since that morning and it was a few hours before noon.

There's something calming about snow. Usually, it blinds me, but it must have been especially cloudy that day.

I could focus. I wasn't thinking about all the things that could go wrong. I didn't follow scenarios. I gave up on method and just did.

I took that day slow. Nothing was stressful. There was nothing to do and I was ready to be torn from my comfort zone and thrown into the unexpected and unscheduled.

Her voice wasn't how I rehearsed. It was one I had heard frequently in music and enjoyed. I must have grown attached to it.

I expected to be shocked from hearing the voice, but I was more shocked that something I worked at actually came through. I expected the voice to be louder.

I didn't doubt myself. The voice was real. Effortless and fast in its responses, but I had to remain in conversation or I felt that it would go away. After a few days, there was no more voice.

Honestly, I am in denial.

First it is denial. Then I am angry. Then I am at war. Then I want peace, so I leave it all behind me.

Friday, November 30, 2012

163

I know that I usually begin my posts with a date in an unlogical order. I glance at the right hand corner and type what feels natural. This is an unconscious process, as in right now, I don't know what part of the date to type first.

Something in my head shouts, "Monday!" I know it is not Monday. It is Saturday. No. It's Friday still.

I suppose it is a good philosophy to just try something because one thing tends to lead to another.

I don't remember typing in any posts, but a few minutes ago, something in my head said, "Maybe you should talk about that in your blog." I don't remember what 'that' was, but it had to do with tulpae, doubt, and something else that I can't quite 'link to'.

Like I said, I can't remember typing any of these posts because of a sort of memory loss. I can't remember a lot, but I know about them. I know I have a blog, but I don't remember any posts and I don't remember typing any of them.

Friday, November 30, 2012, 9:07PM

I typed a D for December, only to correct myself.

It doesn't give me a creepy feeling or a surprised feeling, but more of the feeling you would get if you got well into your day and found that everyone believed in magic, cast spells, and had done so their entire lives. Everyone would be nonchalant about it as well. You would feel a little like you are still waking up. It would be like someone telling you something that you can understand, but you can't make sense of. Like it's on the tip of your ear. You would feel like going with the crowd. You would feel like trying to remember. You would be a little confused as to how you could have forgotten. You know that delay that is in between receiving information and making sense out of it? That delay is normally too short to notice, but now that you are stuck in that delay, you take in the sensation and you are suddenly filled in. Your perspective changes.

Now that I got sidetracked, I'll probably not post this because of the above paragraph.

Let's talk about tulpae.

Recently, I gave up on the entire tulpa project, more or less. More recently, however, I've felt a stronger connection to my tulpa's voice and perhaps presence (ASMR). Was it because the burden of 'needing' to create a tulpa was off my shoulders? Was it because I stumbled into forums about tulpae? Maybe it was just realizing that I'm not the terrible person I thought I was. I changed my perspective. Somehow. I know the feeling.

Evidently, my tulpa has been speaking to me. According to this source, one cannot parrot accidentally. If this is true, then... wow. It seems ridiculous to say: "I parroted accidentally." Using logical equivalences, it would be equivalent to "My tulpa spoke to me." I had so much doubt in myself. Really, my doubt was blinding.

What saved this project was that I tried. Even when I quit, I still could not let it go. I spoke to my tulpa casually because I didn't have anything more to lose. I may have listened less intensely. I may have done everything less intensely.

Sunday, November 25, 2012

162

Sunday, November 25, 2012, 1:08PM

Everything has finally wound down. It appears that I've lost. I'll talk to you each day, my tulpa, but I won't expect to hear you. It was a good run. Maybe it was a warm-up. Sure. Let's call it that.

Part of me is disappointed. Part of me wants to keep fighting. Part of me is exhausted.

Another part of me doesn't want me to take a break, for fear of all progress being lost.

Another part of me is willing to forget the entire ordeal, only to be surprised one day of what could have been.

http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/11/163.html

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

161

Tuesday, November 20, 2012, 2:59 AM

My tulpa isn't faring too well. I'm struggling to be motivated enough to keep it alive. Not dead yet.

http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/11/162.html

Sunday, November 11, 2012

160

Sunday, November 11, 2012, 7:41PM

I am still trying to narrate throughout the entire day as if talking to someone inside my head.
I am having more trouble each day.

http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/11/161.html

Saturday, November 3, 2012

159

Saturday, October 3, 2012, 6:54PM

I am going to try constant narration. I am going to explain the world to someone who doesn't know what anything is.

http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/11/160.html

Monday, October 29, 2012

158

Monday, October 29, 2012, 9:53PM

One day, I will or won't have a tulpa and look back and think,

Why did I hang on?

I've been saying it all semester. One day, I'll have time and energy to do the things I want to do. Until then, I am strapped to the metal table with a light in my face and a funnel in my mouth.

http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/11/159.html

Sunday, October 21, 2012

157

Monday, October 22, 2012, 1:45AM

Usually, I type a few paragraphs only to stuff it in a more personal journal and then replace the text wall with something that represents my mindset after I am mentally exhausted:

Giving up: I apologize to whomever spent any time with this endeavor. I can't let go of this, but it's dead.

Defiant: But I can't let my poor luck win. What would my tulpa say?

There are so many distractions, obligations, mental obstacles, needs to keep up with...

(Warning: Abstract)
Talking to my non-existant tulpa each day feels like it is the second time. I know that I have talked before, which is why I don't say first time. I cannot talk about my day because the knowledge I have of my day is like the knowledge I have of typing the previous sentence; I can describe how the letters got on the page due to logical cause and effect, but each letter is so insignificant in attachment and meaning to me that I cannot 'relive' it or derive any enjoyment from speaking of it.

My weekend flew by, despite talking about 'surviving the week until Friday'. I don't know what I did yesterday, therefore (by some definitions) it did not exist. However, the nauseous feeling of obligations still bubbles in my stomach from the week. The combination adds to this illusion. On the outside, life looks good. In reality, it is a nightmare. It is a nightmare to be tormented in this way because there seems to be nothing wrong to others.

http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/10/158.html

Monday, October 15, 2012

156

Monday, October 15, 2012, 8:25PM


I'm not comfortable where I am at right now. That's good. I don't want to be comforted. I wouldn't do anything differently if I was comfortable. I want change.

http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/10/157.html

Saturday, October 6, 2012

155

Saturday, October 6, 2012, 3:28PM

Over the past few weeks, I have been trying to interpret myself in order to be better at problem-solving.

In other news, some day last week, I went to a college play. The next day, after complementing that friend on a job well done, I realized that it was a different person. After smooth-talking my way out of that one (something about telling her that I thought she designed the costumes... while acting very tired and, therefore, forgivable) I realized that I really could not recognize people-- people I have known for years-- very well. One and a half hours ago, I greeted someone at the theater entrance again for a Broadway dance show who turned out to be someone I knew last year and whose name I cannot seem to remember. I thought this person I greeted was one of my roommates.

In other news, the tulpa project is not going well due to poor time management on my part.

Progress: none

http://wintrovert.blogspot.com/2012/10/156.html