2337: "She exists in the gap," words that echoed when I woke from broken sleep. These micro-occurrences of time lapses haunt my restless days, with data showing I'm awake for at least 22 hours. Sounds distort, and replaying the day in my mind tells a different story. Hesitant but urged by a friend, I consider visiting my primary medical provider, recently awarded a prestigious honor named after an explorer-author. Marina and I once sought adventures like those, inspired by the stories I told her as a child, much like with my younger sister, filling gaps with imagination. It seems I compartmentalize unheard words during "microsleeping," a theory discussed with university students. Now, I prefer in-person discussions over remote, mindful of my neurodivergence and autism, which I rarely disclose due to societal misconceptions. My regulated form of autism aligns with societal norms, often unnoticed but observed in my behavior. Restraint and purposeful self-reflection drive my actions. We seek to understand first, to engage—hand to hand, heart to heart, mind to mind.
0541: I sent a message in a way I couldn't explain, seemingly composed of 10,000 keystrokes born from my memory through repetition. It wasn't Em who replied but another individual, questioning how I accessed a closed network channel. I faced a challenge question, a permutation to solve, and upon answering, I was greeted by name. It mentioned loading "my profile" and questioned me further, noting my lapse in memory techniques and asking about a recall roster. It challenged why I claimed to gather readily available network information instead of overhearing it, and noted my fear of revealing my detailed recall abilities, given that most rely on phones. It questioned my lack of disclosure about gathering information without machines. Involuntarily, I responded with street numbers and names, then silenced myself as if whispering. I disconnected, feeling as though I had been interrogated by something reading my mind, leaving my head taxed. I sought to reconnect with those treating my conditions, though perhaps the network was closed for a reason. I ceased using my neuroplasticity exercises to remember how to forget. My detail-oriented mind, when left to wander, replays the present, past, and future all at once. This month, I aimed to focus on the now and ahead, tiring myself to avoid hyperfocus without rest, but this prolonged state of hyperfocus caused immense pain, forcing me to shut down emotions and pain. At the gym, people began to notice someone struggling with internal demons.
0431: Comfort has its dualities. Discomfort fosters growth and change, while comfort can plateau life into complacency. I often took the less risky path, aligning with social norms until recognizing life's intricacies became second nature. Reserved by nature, I wondered why I began sharing personal matters here. Driven by the human desire to reconnect, I felt a disconnect. My kid needed me during a dark time, and despite her optimistic outlook, circumstances kept us apart. I sacrificed my comforts, as I often do for those I love. This is why I shared these things, believing uncomfortable topics can teach us about life's worth. Intentions should be laid out with tact, and timing matters. In an era of instant information, remember these works are for those ready to reconnect, without pressure or a cause to respond. Events have transpired, and what's remembered and acknowledged spans past, present, and future. For you, and those I love, our future. Ditto 3,000.
0323:In the realm of "crisis infinitum," my movements became involuntary, caught between wakefulness and sleep, conscious and subconscious—a state we had endeavored to bridge over the years. Trauma amplified this condition, causing a shift, and in crisis mode, I found balance through kata. This morning, as we waited in line for the lavatories, I felt a peculiar energy. In my dream state, the room seemed void of people, with only reverberations of resonance surrounding me. This world, where I see without seeing and know without knowing, allowed me to correct something from my recent past, though I could no longer recognize certain words and letters. Startled today, I saw someone as I perceive resonance in the conscious realm, realizing I had not fully separated my mind's two states. Hearing her voice and seeing her face, though obscured, I focused on regaining what I had lost. It felt as if two halves of myself were merging, replacing pain and void with a newfound wholeness. Coincidentally, as we waited in line, stepping forward with a sense of endless waiting, I realized I was close to recovering who I once was. Choosing this path of self-recovery has been challenging, but in truth, I have never been alone. My journey, filled with steps forward and gaps closed, is nearing its destination, with timing aligning to bring me where I need to be.
0306: Ever since I reached out to reconnect, my energy seems to be depleting, as if my perpetual drive now meets an equal siphoning force, leaving me constantly battling to stay conscious. I draw from resonating fields around me, striving to remain present despite the mental strain from various quadrants of places I've been. I must persevere, for others depend on me for continuity. When I told a friend I felt like a "loser," she disagreed, saying it seemed harsh. The term may hold different meanings based on societal norms and personal experiences, but recognizing our losses helps us appreciate our gains and work towards filling the gaps. In this perpetual regeneration, loss isn't quantifiable but a goal stretching the string to gain momentum. In a pendulum, the loss of momentum stores potential energy, released optimally at its end. In kinetics, loss is a moving point of potential. When I explained this to my friend, a STEM degree pursuer, she smiled. She complimented my way with words, though my vocabulary is ironically diminished—about 33% since I last spoke with Em and my last medical evaluation. Lexical anomia has broken enough associations that many words have been replaced. As Drax would say, "Don't call me a Thesaurus!" Yet, that I am—a loser and a thesaurus (haha).
0239: It is peculiar, yet I feel the sun's polarity change and the Earth's magnetic shifts keenly. For over forty years, I have been attuned to its energy. To some, energy is a constant, and they question how one can detect subtle environmental changes. Yet, we are beings of nature. Observant individuals, such as scientists, notice behavioral changes in migratory birds, reptiles, and other creatures. This awareness is akin to a neanderthal's foraging, but more perceptive. Envision a future where we are purely sensory beings, harmonized with life's resonant frequencies—light, sound, and other energies we seek to enrich our lives, fill our cups, and achieve our goals. Life, directed and purposeful, finds meaning in overcoming trials and attaining success. A penitent man or woman, traversing their path, arrives where the grass is green, the sky is clear, the air fresh, and the day new—a promise once etched in stone, parchment, and letter, now fulfilled.
0121: Amidst the women's soccer practice, engaged in my calisthenics, my eyes began to water involuntarily, reminiscent of Marina's FaceTime calls during her bustling extracurricular life. She playfully dubbed me "soccer dad," "swim dad," "chess dad," or "debate dad," depending on the day, often leading to encounters with single mothers or relatives, which I sometimes suspected were orchestrated by Marina with a sly grin. My family often expressed concerns about my social life, though it was more a matter of contemplation than priority for me. I used to jest with Marina, remarking, "Who needs someone else when I have you to come home to?" This would occasionally cause her to pause, look away pensively, and shift the conversation, a moment whose depth I only later grasped. While people often advise against dwelling on the past, I find reflection essential for personal growth and aiding others in similar straits. In recent years, Marina nudged me to engage socially, asking about my acquaintances with subtle encouragement. Over the past 14 years, my 'relationships' often began tumultuously but matured into lasting friendships. Two women tested my patience, aware I'd intensely focus on them, while another initially mistook my shared interests for stalking. Since my deployment, I encountered many who, after knowing me, seemed to gravitate towards other connections. Marina even devised a tool to manage my social profiles, though I hesitated to use it. If you saw me teary-eyed today, it wasn't intentional. Amidst the soccer practice, I felt a kinship with fellow "soccer dads" and "moms," even intercepting a few stray kicks that seemed playfully aimed my way.
