Freewrite
Is consciousness a product of the brain. Does the brain create the consciousness out of nothing. Or is there a raw or base level of consciousness in the molecules of the body, and a human brain coaxes that raw stuff into certain directions, like an aqueduct. Or maybe the brain doesnt direct, but actually transforms the raw consciousness of the molecules into the consciousness as we know it. Like transforming white flour into cookies by combining it with other things and then baking it. Or is consciousness just a made up thing. A sort of scientific substitute for the word soul. A placeholder to await the perfect day when the pure and robotic nature of everything is revealed later by super scientist number one trillion and four. Are there levels of consciousness. No. Are there more than levels, and actually an infinite number of position points of consciousness that are not hierarchically arranged. No, thats wrong too, but it sounds a bit closer to the truth. If consciousness exists, then its invisible, and no one can get a microscope out and look into the scope and see consciousness. They could only see hints of it, signs, clues that it was there or that it wasnt, or that it seemed to be, for a second, but then it wasnt after all. Consciousness as we know it in the western world is consciousness limited. Consciousness locked. Consciousness behind the Hoover dam. Consciousness every now and then about to break through, energized by some silent call to arms. And then because its been tamed, it settles down again into its nice and gentle consciousness routine. Is the brain a program. Is that a problem. Are human beings actually consciousness and the brain is just the slave driver robot that whips us like dogs when we forget to behave a certain way. They put the brain so high, like its the best organ of the body, but its not. Consciousness is in the fingers. This is a fact. No its not. Ok. Shut up. And its in other places. Its in the hips and in the muscles. Its in the motion. Its in the act of doing something stupid, like tripping on a rock. One thing I wonder about: If consciousness is raw and just out there. Do people carry the raw consciousness in their heads when they go somewhere. Or does the raw stuff stay where it is, like it was the fabric of reality. Hmmm. I guess I dont actually think that raw consciousness is something real. Consciousness exists in various states. And probably it exists in ways that I will never understand. Its interesting to try to figure out what kind of consciousness a tree might have. But I dont think that a tree actually has consciousness. A trees consciousness is so different from ours that it deserves a different word. The tree has awareness. It has awareness of where the light is for instance. It has significance. Its being there has relevance. Without the plants, I would be dead. In fact, I would never have lived. And thus I owe the tree some respect, or no, but something I cant think of a word for it, maybe an occasional deferent gaze is all that is needed. Living things are always interdependent. The one tree means nothing. Its death affects me not even a little. But if all of them died tomorrow, I would suffocate and die right along side them, and it would happen without my permission. They keep me up. When I breathe, I experience the interdependence of stuff. Whether I want to or not, I cant help it. Its always right there on my tongue, down my throat, and in my lungs. And I hate it. Id like to be independent, and on the great american scale of the independent fool, I get a fairly good score. Still, even the most independent jerk is not so very independent in the grand scheme of things. Somebody else is always helping without actually caring. Somebody else builds my apartment. Somebody else makes my furniture. Somebody else grows my food . Somebody else pays me money for my time. Somebody else says hello. Somebody else says what the hell you been smoking. Thank god for that person. Id like to give back to the builder who made something that I chose to pick up. Giving in a similar way, meaning, not really caring about them, but doing something whatever because I like doing it, and leaving it at that. I dont like the word help because it seems to involve one person being the giver, and the other person the unfortunate and lowly receiver. I guess I dont like other people helping me, and Im wary of those who have that as their goal, and who want to fix other people because the others people dont fit some idea that they have of how a person should be. There have been times when being helped made me feel kind of used. Its like after they helped out, and I thought they were being friendly, and was impressed with their kindness and so Im like ok fine you can help and then years later they imply that without their help I would have surely fallen apart. Which is fucking retarded. Im suspicious of helpful people who want to help everyone. Theyre evil I tell you. Evil. I want them to fuck off. Helpful people are the plague. Its probably a schema. But Id have to trust someone before Id let them help me with the things that really matter. And this is obviously some kind of trap that Im in. But right now at least, I dont want anybodys help getting out. And if there is some person, and there always is, who is convinced that I should be different, that I should mirror some ideal that they found in a box, then theyre in good company. And Im not in good company. And Im the lowest. This is good. I prefer it.
Is consciousness a product of the brain. Does the brain create the consciousness out of nothing. Or is there a raw or base level of consciousness in the molecules of the body, and a human brain coaxes that raw stuff into certain directions, like an aqueduct. Or maybe the brain doesnt direct, but actually transforms the raw consciousness of the molecules into the consciousness as we know it. Like transforming white flour into cookies by combining it with other things and then baking it. Or is consciousness just a made up thing. A sort of scientific substitute for the word soul. A placeholder to await the perfect day when the pure and robotic nature of everything is revealed later by super scientist number one trillion and four. Are there levels of consciousness. No. Are there more than levels, and actually an infinite number of position points of consciousness that are not hierarchically arranged. No, thats wrong too, but it sounds a bit closer to the truth. If consciousness exists, then its invisible, and no one can get a microscope out and look into the scope and see consciousness. They could only see hints of it, signs, clues that it was there or that it wasnt, or that it seemed to be, for a second, but then it wasnt after all. Consciousness as we know it in the western world is consciousness limited. Consciousness locked. Consciousness behind the Hoover dam. Consciousness every now and then about to break through, energized by some silent call to arms. And then because its been tamed, it settles down again into its nice and gentle consciousness routine. Is the brain a program. Is that a problem. Are human beings actually consciousness and the brain is just the slave driver robot that whips us like dogs when we forget to behave a certain way. They put the brain so high, like its the best organ of the body, but its not. Consciousness is in the fingers. This is a fact. No its not. Ok. Shut up. And its in other places. Its in the hips and in the muscles. Its in the motion. Its in the act of doing something stupid, like tripping on a rock. One thing I wonder about: If consciousness is raw and just out there. Do people carry the raw consciousness in their heads when they go somewhere. Or does the raw stuff stay where it is, like it was the fabric of reality. Hmmm. I guess I dont actually think that raw consciousness is something real. Consciousness exists in various states. And probably it exists in ways that I will never understand. Its interesting to try to figure out what kind of consciousness a tree might have. But I dont think that a tree actually has consciousness. A trees consciousness is so different from ours that it deserves a different word. The tree has awareness. It has awareness of where the light is for instance. It has significance. Its being there has relevance. Without the plants, I would be dead. In fact, I would never have lived. And thus I owe the tree some respect, or no, but something I cant think of a word for it, maybe an occasional deferent gaze is all that is needed. Living things are always interdependent. The one tree means nothing. Its death affects me not even a little. But if all of them died tomorrow, I would suffocate and die right along side them, and it would happen without my permission. They keep me up. When I breathe, I experience the interdependence of stuff. Whether I want to or not, I cant help it. Its always right there on my tongue, down my throat, and in my lungs. And I hate it. Id like to be independent, and on the great american scale of the independent fool, I get a fairly good score. Still, even the most independent jerk is not so very independent in the grand scheme of things. Somebody else is always helping without actually caring. Somebody else builds my apartment. Somebody else makes my furniture. Somebody else grows my food . Somebody else pays me money for my time. Somebody else says hello. Somebody else says what the hell you been smoking. Thank god for that person. Id like to give back to the builder who made something that I chose to pick up. Giving in a similar way, meaning, not really caring about them, but doing something whatever because I like doing it, and leaving it at that. I dont like the word help because it seems to involve one person being the giver, and the other person the unfortunate and lowly receiver. I guess I dont like other people helping me, and Im wary of those who have that as their goal, and who want to fix other people because the others people dont fit some idea that they have of how a person should be. There have been times when being helped made me feel kind of used. Its like after they helped out, and I thought they were being friendly, and was impressed with their kindness and so Im like ok fine you can help and then years later they imply that without their help I would have surely fallen apart. Which is fucking retarded. Im suspicious of helpful people who want to help everyone. Theyre evil I tell you. Evil. I want them to fuck off. Helpful people are the plague. Its probably a schema. But Id have to trust someone before Id let them help me with the things that really matter. And this is obviously some kind of trap that Im in. But right now at least, I dont want anybodys help getting out. And if there is some person, and there always is, who is convinced that I should be different, that I should mirror some ideal that they found in a box, then theyre in good company. And Im not in good company. And Im the lowest. This is good. I prefer it.