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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.