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About Redline

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    The Reddest of Linears

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    Northwest Calilina
  • Bio
    I once ate an entire pizza by myself and then threw up the entire thing in the same hour.

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  1. It's been 2 years since I wrote that response. I figured I'd come back and read it and then ask for all of my logs to be deleted, but just reading a few posts reminded me of why I did this in the first place. I wasn't hurting then, I don't think. When I began, I saw a post about it and decided to try it. Who doesn't love experimentation with no drawbacks? Free, potentially mind altering, and secret- it was like a trap laid just for me. I started and went everywhere from the comfort of my living room armchair. Since then, I've been through a lot with and without tulpas, without my girls. Now, it's just one. I 'realized' it again at some point, without a mirror or a thought about myself. I ask the questions, she answers back. She's like a little stain in my head, and just as stubborn to remove. I stopped trying. She's rude, inconsistent, and invasive with the questions, just like Ves was. She tends to needle in when I'm deciding something I consider important, like relationship advice or financial issues. It's not always the greatest question or the most cooperative answer, but that's built into the design after so long of vilifying Vespera when I first began forging. It's neat now. She floats around, like smoke, and if I'm too stressed about a situation, we like to join up. I'll tug my neckline and she'll 'become' a scarf, and the thought of having someone with me is calming. She doesn't speak much then, nor does she at any other point unless it's urgent. If anything, I'm still afraid of parroting, just like back then, but I'm always sure I'm not. For some reason, the stronger I got doing manual labor and the more rooted I became in my identity, the more she became her. I am a stone, I tell myself, and she's smoke. Whenever I think about tulpas or get alone time to think, she helps a bit. She reminds me of what's truly important to me, like writing or what checkpoint I wanted to hit in whatever game I'm playing. She smiles a lot, and not cruelly, but knowingly. It's like she's having fun manipulating me into surviving. She was there through some depression, and for the high points lately, too. She can see me writing, but won't say much about it. Nothing bothers the smoke, because she's put it behind her, in front of it, all around her. She surrounds the problems and views them from every angle, only stopping to check that I'm caught up with my pea brain ideas. She's more of a conceptual entity than an actual tulpa to force, and it's pretty natural now. I don't think tulpas really leave once you open the door. The routine is too easy to start.
  2. Well, I had a long reply planned, but my phone doesn't want to work with me today. Suffice it to say I envy you for your conviction and sight. I managed to tell myself I love myself, and stop using names for it. Now, I talk and answer my own questions, and it's harder to tell if it's the inside or outside voice doing it. Maybe I'll grow from this.
  3. I wanted to do more research into the intricacies of what goes on in, but I realized the futility of it soon after I started. Too many stories, too many ways. I have met some people in real life who have never heard of this and gave some insight as to how they think it all goes down, as well as a few people who have actually done this before. I will say that the people outside this site didn't seem to carry the stigma that comes with ending a tulpa's existence. They considered it more of a muting, like shutting up thoughts that come up when you see your crush, or when you see a crime. They don't care because they don't seem to buy into it the same way this site seemed to breed it when I was active. We nurtured here, from what I recall. We spoke kindly of the tulpa, gave methods we firmly believed in or just generally appreciated the completeness of. Guides got sent around like game manuals at an elementary school, and we all sort of got along with a hearty love of our craft. Those outside think of it more as a splintering of the self, something to be wary of. It's okay to have secondary thoughts, but entertaining the notion of a full conversation over something like we would seems to rub them wrong. They consider it indecisive and meandering. Those outside who had never done anything like this were astounded. The fact that we could essentially turn an inward conversation into a bundle of stimuli and build off of it seems almost like gold from lead. I consider my convergence into Oneness sort of a ridiculous thing, but still as valid as what I was looking for before. I wanted that physicality so bad, because I wanted to see them, feel them. I wanted to finally beat my mind at its own game and say I was strong enough to find my own answer, but that didn't happen. I instead dove into the fact that it's all in my head, and that nothing can change that. I can't get my tulpa out for the life of me, and that's fine. It's not supposed to be that way for me. Instead, I can speak with myself in my purest form. No evil witch Vespera, no samurai Crownadir, no gunner bunny Skashi, no more. They're all there, but it's me I'm looking at. I can see it in her face, her eyes, her expression. I can see me, with all of the femininity I cherished in others. There's something freeing about admitting it, to be honest. I hated the thought of it so bad, because that meant admitting it was all beyond my grasp. I have to admit that the game does have a limit, and I've reached it. I can't go any further into the impossible than I am now, which isn't even that far from where I started. However, saying it is almost like magic in itself. I can't see them, I can't hear them, I can't feel them. I can, however, hear my own voice in my head when I think. I can hear these words I'm typing being read out as my fingers touch the keys. I can feel my muscle twitch when someone tells me they were cut there or bruised there. I can't see some overlaid HUD, but I can see the object I'm holding and build my cognitive map in my head. I admit that it's never real, because the daydreams and internal monologues became dialogues and plans of action. I'm not saying you have to admit it yourself. If you somehow achieved physicality and you can do what I haven't, congratulations! You found Shangri-La.
  4. I have a serious job, a serious apprenticeship, serious schooling, it's all so serious. I've undergone changes that I can barely keep up with, let alone explain. For a while, the number was constant, and then it wasn't. The only thing constant is the lack of constants, and I have one again. It's the only one, and there's a solid reason for that: It's only me. I've been having one hell of a time with my life, and I had to answer serious questions, such as why I still have my tulpa hanging around, and what purpose they can serve. I like serving purpose. I like efficiency, I like a place for things to belong. I had to divert attention away from my job and school and life just to talk to my girls, and it was confusing for me. Even as someone who still worries about parroting, I would listen to them asking me about my own uses for them. My biggest problem was voice. I struggled to hear their voices after a while. I heard my own, and struggled to change it. Finally, my girls asked me why I was still pretending. It may be several of the,, but I'm splitting them up into archetypes, trying on this and that by switching how I felt about things. It wasn't healthy. It's not conducive to a proper mental flow, in my opinion. I thought about having the admins clean up my progress report, any sign that I had ever been here. I thought about it for a long time, and I wondered what my girls meant to me, and settled on the answer that they meant nothing. I loved them and the scenes I could play out in my head, but they had long since served their purpose. I asked myself why I kept splitting my little quirks and passions into archetypes, and why I didn't accept it as a whole. Why couldn't I accept me? It's because I couldn't stand to see the good mix with the bad. I couldn't bear watching my kindness mix with my spite, or my anger mix with my entertaining. It was like I thought I would lose them, but they really didn't even matter. I can't lose them if they're still here. I ended up looking in the mirror for my answer, and found myself. I found what I idolized- femininity, the sheer essence of it, and how I consistently try to balance it with my stocky body, my deep voice, my mannerisms. I found myself and I can accept that. All that's left now is a mirror image, and I speak to myself in my own voice. I'm not sure if there's someone else on this site who did what I did, but I consider this an evolution of the self in a different sense. I was always looking for ways to make the girls real, achieve the almighty high that was physicality and live with them, but that's not right. I can't look outward to find them, because I know they're not real. I can't trick myself into seeing what isn't there, and it'll never get better, if you can call seeing that better for someone like me. I can accept who I am and speak to the mirror, though. If this site taught me anything, it's how to listen for it to talk back.
  5. Sometimes, I'll hear an answer that was never said to a question I didn't ask. Completely unbidden information, completely wild accusations. I chalk it up to just little 'checks'- I hear things because I'm gettting more and more into hearing their voices more often, and my head is just cycling through a varied checklist of words I have or haven't heard before and matching them into sentences. It's a sort of clean up process for me- I get reminded to talk to the girls, and I get to clear out my head, full of 8 or 9 different trains of thought that clash and make up some weird things. Sometimes, things at work and things at home collide, and I 'remember' that I have to go home to pick up my box cutter to eat for lunch. Same things happens with the girls and anything, where I think about them and work and then I have to answer the question of 'why box cutters manage to cut the box, but not the tape' when it never got asked.
  6. Hi, cap'n. You know me and my girls, Ves and Crown. We've recently become much I'm not sure that's the right word for it. It's more like animated- we look less like ships in the night and more like Seinfeld episodes. It's a good feeling. I'd like to be a part of Tulpaudcast, if you'll have me. I could definitely talk about animation of character and some things I found interesting through some research.
  7. I recently picked up a few mentees, so this message is for you guys, if you get this far- I'm doing a bit of an experiment on you all as we go through the process. Don't worry, I'm not asking you to do anything crazy or out of the ordinary, I'm just viewing your examples and cases and comparing them to how I felt and the problems I had when I started out. It's all entirely anonymous, and I'm not 'publishing any findings'. I'm just looking at the methods I ask you to undergo with a critical eye, and I would appreciate it if you could give me detailed explanations of things, like feelings, the vocality, and methods of communication. I have my suspicions about the guides and tricks on this site- we're close to figuring out something. This is still a very inexact practice, so learning firsthand from people who have had years or just started is a great way to test things out. I'm consistently reading up on this and studying what I can, like parallel processing and imposition, and I feel like I can really get some sort of research done to share with the community. If you don't want to be 'researched', please let me know. I'll drop that portion of it and just mentor you to the best of my abilities.
  8. For what it's worth, I think best pony is Seabiscuit. I mean, the animation for that movie was utterly fantastic.
  9. ...grab their equipment, watching as the sun slowly sank, searing into the darkest earth and was swallowed whole. Night would fall like a graceful bird, gently until it was far too late- here there be monsters in the shade. One heard...
  10. 1036. I came, I saw, I pondered.
  11. Your favorite...74th favorite narrator got himself another job stocking overnight at a well known conglomerate monster by the name of Barrier Market. The biggest perk is that I'm left alone and in almost near silence for approximately six hours, so there's nothing to do but my job, and forcing. I've forced a lot since I got the job. It's become much easier to passively hear the voice, and I'm actually really pleased with that. It's like I'm exercising muscles that wouldn't have gotten the practice near friends and in physical conversations. I have no one else to talk to but the girls, so all I do is talk to the girls. We go places now. I dream up old places I've dreamt of pacing through, and we try and see what's in there now. An old witch house with 8 witches and 1 normal guy, just playing a DS. An old school I had an away soccer game at. The desert under our little island is now flooded with milk. Turns out the sand is graham crackers, according to sources that say that I just changed it to be that as I type this. Am I capricious? Yes. Is it good for forcing/forging? Very. The girls have become much more animated and vivacious. Instead of acting like solemn guides, they're their own people now. Vesperasura is impulsive, rash, loud, and outspoken. She gets pouty when she doesn't get her way and loves to argue. It's something I have to deal with constantly, mostly because they give suggestions that aren't feasibly possible at the worst of times, and because Ves is the one who usually talks first. Crownadiriskash is much more of a passive personality, choosing meek smiles to show her emotions. It's amazing how flexible a smile can be and the range of action it has, even without context. She usually doesn't speak much, but once Ves says anything that asks her for her opinion, she becomes so much more. She almost blossoms into this vivid soul, going on and on. Of course, that was a while before, and she's becoming a much more assertive personaity and gaining her own confidence. I'm just astounded by the way they've grown. It's a treat. Ves is 2 years old. Jesus. I keep skipping the fact that she's 2. I don't know why an entire year leaves my head. Crown is only a couple months old, but she's nearing 1. That's just...agh. I've been at this for longer than I remember.
  12. I walked into the wrong Fallout Sim Just call me... The Courier
  13. Because secrets are stronger than hearsay, my friend The moon shines and shows all it may touch, but hides all the same, no matter how it tries