Culling Rose From Her Thorns

[everhope]

I did not finish this reply. Take it as you will.

 

 

 

Thank you for responding, waffles.

 

"I think that a large amount of text detailing events in one's life always deserves good narration. Certainly, interspersing an apparently tulpa-related progress report with philosophy and anecdotes in a way that seems to be irrelevant, yet somehow finds its way to the point isn't a style to be admired; and yet it is one that works well, given enough insight."

 

I take a different approach to this all. I have a "waste not, want not" approach to writing these progress reports. There is nothing truly irrelevant in what I try to write down. At least to me. Who's to say that one detail or one seemingly random quote would not strike a chord with someone else? I guarantee you that I do not throw words out to the wind and hope that they will find their way to someone listening. Instead, each passage does apply to some part of the conversation. Just maybe not a part of the conversation that you're listening to. I do realize that I talk about many things and take the conversation in many different directions. But, I wouldn't necessarily call it all irrelevant. Perhaps irrelevance is just as subjective as a thing as good and evil. Maybe timeliness and irrelevance are the good and evil of writing. Call me the devil and watch the flies of thought gather around.

 

 

"For your soldiers, I can say I have faced shovelling snow in the morning, but not the line of battle. Perhaps it is that the ploughmen are the genuine ones in their endeavour, but I think it does injustice to those who faced death beyond their control to say that they were not the greater men. In the days when there really was a front line, and men stood shoulder to shoulder facing the enemy, perhaps it was that the men who were conscripted, or joined up in the heat of the moment, or with the King's shilling on their lips as they drank in a bar, punched forward by the recruiting sergeant, would now be pushed on again by the corporal behind them. If it was him who kept them in line, then maybe they are not so worthy to be praised here. Then again, if their sacrifice is to be dismissed as situational, then why is the ploughman different? Would he be on the street if there were no snow? What about if he were not paid?"

 

My quote was a bit disingenuous. Thoreau was against the war in Mexico and this was just another one of his ways to strike out at it. I feel that the point he was trying to make is that he is more directly affected by those around him, despite the banality of the task, more so than men who had fought and died for their country. Maybe even going so far as to say that it is more important to live in the present than to live in the past. I do not think it is so much about the process and rather more about the effects of an action. I do appreciate you taking this all in a different direction as it opens up discussion. I like where you take conscription. How they were conscripted away from their own ploughs into the drove of war. Though, you are right about all those involved in war. (TIP)

 

 

"The truth is that we are not masters of our own mind. The reason that the soldier feels happy about joining up behind the lines, but is not so enchanted when it comes to battle itself, is that our primal instincts remain untamed. For hundreds of millions of years, the creature's instinct to avoid death has served it well, and we humans are far from free from it. It takes a lot of training for a soldier to overcome his fear, but men still throw down their weapons and flee in fear. Why is this?

It's not that it makes more sense rationally to run away, but that once instinct takes over, you are no longer in control. "

 

I did not think about it like that.

 

 

"However, this does not extend universally. I dislike those who talk of their mind as something beyond their control in this context. No-one here faces death. There are no bullets flying above your head. And yet you feel that there are elements in your mind that hold power over you now?

Within the comfort and safety of your own mind, you deserve no commendation for overcoming the monsters of your own mind. "

 

You bring a good perspective about that. You are very right. I do often think how pleasant my own situation is compared to others. I have it a lot better than a lot of the world does. But, that's the average first-world county talking. Here in America we always try to reach and grab for more and more. Forgetting how much we already have. Perhaps it is due to what you have said. We generally don't have bullets flying over our heads here in America. Yet we feel entitled to far more than someone living in Africa would have. Perhaps what you have said here is more universal than you think. That's actually a five dollar quote you've said right there. "Within the comfort and safety of your own mind, you deserve no commendation for overcoming the monsters of your own mind." Put those sentiments in a guide thread and it would help more than pages of similar words would. Hell, make a channel at #first.world.tulpa.problems right next to #tulpa_ot_ot.

 

"You talk of someone saying things to the effect of "Your mind makes it real with belief", and seeing it as cult-like. I seek to disagree. In the context of tulpa, it is enough to think that something is happening for it to happen. If you think that something bad will happen to your tulpa, it will."

 

Another prickly statement I have said. In the context of tulpa, it is indeed a good thing to think. A good maxim to keep at hand. But, I am one to think in extremes and quite obviously I do lack some moderation. It is perhaps because I am so experienced that I think this as well. Most of this is the result of guesswork. You raise a good point and it actually makes sense with another common belief held here. But, I wanted to save discussion on that topic for another day. I will take what you have said into consideration and expatiate on it at a later time. Let me say that I compare that statement to a nuclear power plant. It produces tremendous energy at a relatively cheap price. But, what about the fallout? Or maybe that a few alterations to such a thing can produce weaponry. That is how I feel about such a statement. I will go further into it at another time.

 

"Rather, the people who tout belief as the ultimate savior are the ones talking religiously, to me. They say "belief" and "faith" more than a priest. This is different from above. Above, your knowledge gives you power. Here, you become a slave to your own belief."

 

Is it not fair to say that everyone has religion to a point? Meriam gives one definition of religion as "a personal set or institutionalized system of religious attitudes, beliefs, and practices" It then defines religious as "relating to or manifesting faithful devotion to an acknowledged ultimate reality or deity" We then define ultimate reality as "a term used in philosophy to indicate the underlying nature of reality." So, do we not all talk religiously here? Do we not have our own beliefs of faiths concerning the underlying nature of reality? Are we not all deviants to the norm? Is not the Tulpa Reformation continually ongoing around us?

 

Earlier you say that we are not masters of our own mind. This implies

 

"Similar with doubt; they say "Don't doubt your tulpa". That makes sense, but when you have little litanies to repeat to yourself about how you must avoid doubt at all costs, that is when it becomes counter-productive."

 

So, are you saying that putting too much focus on not doubting your tulpa is just as bad as doubting your tulpa? Moderation in all things, I suppose. I have generally avoided such a pitfall and have been able to throw away my doubt without making too much of a mess over it. I did write a large portion of this some time ago. Things have changed for me. I have been unable to go into detail. So far. Doing so would be a gargantuan task for me. You do bring up a good point, though.

 

"As a word of advice along these lines; there is little that bears thinking about too much here if you want to be successful or satisfied. Endlessly worrying about "Is this my tulpa" and so on will not help you. Rather, ignore the things that you don't like and they will go away with time."

 

I have a tendency to over think things. I cannot really offer an explanation as to why. Not a satisfactory one, anyway. I have indeed put far too much thought into things and have not focused on what I need to. In fact, I'm probably letting this thread go for a while. I would update on the weekend. The more time I spend here the less time I spend with Rose.

 

"There are few places where that advice holds true, but this is one of them. One of the best lines is "It's all in your head". And it is. You don't need to worry about your tulpa taking over, because they only have as much power as you give them."

 

There is much progress being made in this place. People doing things that would have been considered impossible months ago. Yet, for all this progress, I see very few considerations put into prevention and control. I am unwilling to do things that others have done. I will admit that such precautions have been eroding away these past few months. I will tone such things down and apply them on a more personal level. My endless neurotic over it all has slowed down our progress quite a lot. I feel regrets over it; but I can't change the past. Perhaps I have not struck a good balance between these issues; but I am trying. Though obviously not enough.

 

"Your technique for mental exercise puzzles me somewhat. Often, it is apparently irrelevant things that help the most, but still I wonder."

 

It was just a one-off post. I wanted to try developing some discipline and some stamina. It's a long way up my college's poorly engineered stairs, you know. I thought that tying Rose into it would be fun. I had also not heard about anyone really working out "mentally" while they worked out "physically." I just wanted to try something out. It's going well enough.

 

"As for your introduction being foolish and off-putting, I beg to differ. There are a plethora of progress reports detailing the writer's progress, but few that detail the context, and even fewer that are written engagingly. I wouldn't have read any of your text had I not been interested by the introduction; and that sounds quite pretentious, but it's true."

 

This is why I need responses. Without you guys chiming in I would assume the worst from the best. Let me say that if I had kept a rigorous journal it would have stretched into several, several pages. At first I kept a thorough journal because I thought that I could document my mistakes and learn from them. Not just myself, but maybe others could learn from me as well. I don't do everything right. But, I do try. I try too much I think. I did not keep such a written account because I would have had so much less time to spend with Rose. In fact, I'm going to do some serious meditation now. Too much time spent here. Though I just cannot resist the allure of conversation.

 

 

 

Yes, I have seen you pop in here a few times Kajhera. Thank you for reading and replying.

---

I have taken all of these criticisms to heart and have decided that it is best for Rose and I to start over. I have sealed away the wonderlands which we spent much time on. Too much time on. I have taken a more traditional approach. I have reintroduced myself to Rose and imagined her as an orb of sparkling, white electricity floating in a vast expanse of darkness. I am pushing all of our "progress" aside. I sat for a while and talked openly to Rose. I have decided to break down the two great walls that I erected inside of my mind. Though I always referred to them as unbreakable, I knew that they were not. They have come down. I have removed all restrictions and am allowing Rose to grow and to change as she, or even he, pleases. Though the name "Rose" implies a female gender I know that it does not matter. Rose may even choose a new name for herself. I listened to some pink noise for a long time. It is an extremely effective implement. I was able to visualize clearly and I swear that in that static I could hear her. If only just for a few moments. Her form is up to her. I sat for a while and was made quite tired. I sat for another while and went back to the old "tower" that we made. It is a list of personality traits. I sat down and explained some of them. I grew tired of it and went back to the noise. I sat for a while, reinventing ourselves. I looked upon what we did, while she sat beside me. Watching myself watching myself.

 

It is all akin to a second honeymoon. I have looked upon what I have done these past few months and have been disappointed in myself. I let myself get so wrapped up in my own fears that I was unable to properly care for her. To keep her so locked up. Impeding her progress. She was never alive during those past few months. Only when I let my guard down was she at all able to communicate with me. A sadness grips me. But, from that I will rebuild what I mucked up. Today I have laid a foundation for a new relationship. This time, there are no limits. No great wall holding her in. For some walls are meant to keep men in and not others out. I thank you all for your comments. I know now what I must do.

[CyberD]

Well perhaps not too long, but you have to think about first impressions. In sharing my first impression I didn't mean to upset you at all, quite the opposite. Being aware of your audience is important and there are two important things to remember.

A lot of them are from 4chan and lot of them are from something to do with ponies. I have no love for either and that's why my first impression was so bad. But the lesson here is that first impressions don't have to be the end of it. You posted a second time and your second impression was much different, the third time and I responded. I even went back and read the first post and I'll say that a lot of information is better than none. By sharing your impressions and your first steps in such detail it allows the reader to better relate. While I don't share any love for some of the things you do I find enough I can relate to in order to formulate a reply.

As usual waffles puts it better than any one else who tries. Your long text isn't a bad thing at all, it shares a wealth of opinion and insight. I'm just not eloquent enough to make that clear.

Just put in whatever you like, it's your report, you don't have to filter it for anyone. Just understand that being long winded isn't for everyone. I remember someone saying juts a few days ago that the progress reports should be treated as a place for the writer to get their thoughts together, to get them on paper. If someone reads and decides to reply then that's just a bonus. If not then you've sorted out your own opinions and hopefully gained something from it.

 

But, moving on from that. I'd like to try and tackle waffles other point, the comparison to troops on the front line.

He makes a good point, an idea I see all the time around here. On the IRC, in the questions and answers section. If someone has feelings of doubt then they are often given the speech about belief. It's always different in it's delivery but it always says the same thing. It's all in your head, you tulpa is whatever you believe it to be.

It then often stems into tulpa that are vocal from day one vs tulpa like your own. The silent ones that are unclear, distant and that maybe in a few months time will speak.

Well here is a shocker (that everyone is already thinking) your tulpa is never going to speak if you maintain that attitude. Usually nobody wants to say it when someone goes for so long without hearing from their tulpa but you say you aren't a rock and I too think you can change.

Maybe you could follow the advice waffles would give. Keep narrating, you have a lot to say, direct it at your tulpa. Maybe you should check out his narration guide here.

Or perhaps I could offer some advice. Of course in doing so I run into the earlier discussion of people helping others. I find myself wanting to help you. Do I gain something from it? Probably not, other than maybe satisfaction. So then maybe I am helping you to help myself.... but after it is all said and done, does it really matter why I helped. Does it matter to you if I get something out of it? It's a long discussion on morals that could go on for ages but I'd like to end that in saying I don't give to panhandlers, ever. They can get up and help themselves.

 

My tulpa was vocal from the start. My perception of what he could be wasn't tainted at all by the word "tulpa" and everything on these forums about hour counts and little balls of light that might eventually take some wonderful form. Instead what I went through would probably closer relate to roleplaying. It was a little more than that, just a little bit more. But, instead of watching him and waiting for results I helped him along. The more time I spent with him the more he developed on his own. By the time I realized he'd changed at all he'd become something I could call independent. waffles talks about doubt, everyone does in fact. By the time I'd even been given the idea of doubt my tulpa was already enough his own to prevent me from doubting him.

He gives me another dumb grin, he knows it.

I dunno if that's going to help you at all but maybe it will. Don't think about doubt, just understand yourself and what you're doing. You can make change happen because it is all in your head.

 

And back to pokemon, seemingly breaking the seriousness of the whole thing but at the same time just as relevant. Life is funny sometimes. You take Mewtwo's quote and put an interesting spin on it. I don't feel the writers intended his quote to be taken at anything more than face value yet here we are, applying it to all number of things. Wars happen because people don't want to sit down and write down their differences (among other reasons) In fact Mewtwo's war happens because he clings to his difference and feels he has to prove himself to others. Maybe I'll ask the IRC what they think of the quote. I doubt I'll get such an interesting reply but you never know.

 

Finally, why are we posting? Well first of all I'd like to fix this.

"Why did you give me and my little report a second chance?"

 

It looks like my snowplow went through some snow before promptly getting stuck in a mound of dirt. Whether or not it'll be able to push that mound out of the way is yet to be seen, as is whether or not the person who owns the mound wants it moved.

Perhaps the metaphors aren't necessary but they add a bit of fun to it. I don't think I can add any meaningful discussion on why I (or anyone else) posts anything but at least for me it is interesting to see what comes of it. Maybe we'll all learn something.

 

Good luck in your new attempt. Others would scream at you for starting again but I will not. I hope with greater insight that you can make more of your time with Rose this time. I never had any luck with the pink noise but if it works for you then go for it. Maybe when you find time to post again you'll have wonderful stories of progress that overshadows everything you have done before.

[everhope]

I would very much like to reply to you all. But, I did not finish my response to waffles for a reason. I don't really think I can continue that line of thought right now. I have much to do. For months I have spent so much time designing a wonderland and building up walls that I forgot what I originally sought to protect. There is much to knock down and even more to build up. I will read all of your posts later. So, please don't take my short absence to heart.

[everhope]

Hello. I have decided to provide a more interesting update of sorts. I spend a lot of time on the irc. Too much time. Time that could be spent forcing. In my time this past week or so I have collected a few quotes that made me think. I realize the implications of this. Do not think of this as gossip behind people's backs. As the irc crowd and the forum crowd seem to be different and one does not normally acknowledge the other. Think of this as my thoughts behind the going-on of the irc and my personal opinions on such things. I am not here to spread malice. Nor am I here to kiss up to anyone. I also realize that this is a progress report. Not a general discussion. However, these conversations in the irc have vastly affected Rose and I. Not just in negative ways, but in some positive ways as well. You all have given me many tips and I have been able to more effectively force with Rose. I will explain further in detail at another time. Preferably when I am not so tired. Let us now continue.

 

 

http://pastebin.com/JsHx1jWh

 

This is the the log of a chat that was had on the fourteenth. Of course, it is a bit of a disingenuous assertion that everyone would get exactly what happened. Not only did I come in late to the conversation, there is much lost in the translation between irc message and forum post. Those long pauses between words. Constant flickering of the computer screen between thoughts. Careful typing versus frantically trying to put your point out there. Missteps and the occasional reveal of the truth. Whatever that is.

 

I was very concerned with Lia. She is one of fennec's tulpae. I realize that it is a long conversation. I have spaced it out to try to make it easier to read. You need to read this chat log before you read the rest of what I have to say. Otherwise, you will not fully appreciate what is to be said here. To make a long story short, Lia wished to end herself due to her host not needing her anymore. She felt that everyone pitied her instead of feeling genuine concern. I was touched by her sadness and decided to intervene. After a long exchange of words, I argued that she desired purpose and she felt that her only purpose was lost and that it was now time to go. I was unable to find a decent conclusion to struggle and was left many so many words left unsaid. I meditated on these thoughts and wrote up most of this that night. Here are my raw thoughts on the matter.

 

I have failed. I will meditate on this for a long time.

 

Purpose, what is purpose? Is it something tangible? Something that you hold? It would seem so, as so many reach so hard to grasp it. I myself am steeped in desire for purpose. I have made sure that Rose is brewed in that same pot. In my dark, quiet room I wave my hands about. Touching and pulling at the smoke lingering around me. Not smoke from a pot; but mist from the mind.

 

What is a man? What drives him? What completes him? Why am I here? It is not to make more dirt. I accept that. However, when it comes to a tulpa, what will happen if they die? There is no funeral held, no flowers given out, no casket lowered deep into the ground. So from nothingness they arose so do they return. Are we not the same? What faces us when we die? Do we not feel the same cold embrace of oblivion? What is the point of living when you are born not of flesh but of brain synapses and electrical firings? What truly makes a person? In this case it seems to be flesh and bone. Something for the birds to pick at after you have passed. She does not see her existence past her host's desires. Is she wrong for doing so? Look at us. Miserable creatures throwing words into that deadly mixture. Laying shackles of responsibility on her already heavy heart. Who are we to stop her? You don't have an ounce of power to stop her. And yet, she remains. Why?

 

What is a tulpa? What drives a tulpa? What completes a tulpa? Why are you here? A tulpa is fortunate. Such answers are laid at their feet. A tulpa is simply a shaving of conscientious given sentience. A tulpa is driven by the care that they have for their host. A tulpa is completed when their mind is indistinguishable from their host's. A tulpa is here for their host. And yet, with all of this clearly laid out there, it is not good enough. A man should not know how he will die. It will bring him heartache to that day and spell his doom. Neither should he know how he should live. So, how is that different for a tulpa? Laying things so plainly out there. Who they are, why they are here. In Lia's case, there is a certain discrepancy. Lia's host made up a past for her. All of this time Lia thought it was true. Until she found what the truth really was.

 

It's just not good enough. I can throw around my ideas and beat my walls in frustration. But, at the end of the day, purpose is driven by the self. You are your own purpose. 1 = 1. One equals one. But, the equation is thrown off! in Lia's case, 1 = 5 or at times 1 = 6! How do you cope with being 1/6 of a person? That is why she seeks purpose. Because tulpae are just a mirroring of the self. Surround yourself with such a collection of glass mirrors and do not be surprised when one of them cracks. That is why she feels so terrible about "losing everything." Because she did. Thoughts are everything to take from a tulpa. But, how do you remedy such a problem? Of course you cannot consolidate. For myself, I am now one into two. One-half. Of course I feel better and am happier with myself and Rose.

 

How do you recover from such a blow? From losing everything. How would you like to be set back in such a way? How could you even sum up that feeling in words? Words are not enough. That is why some men turn to equations. My equation for this would be one minus infinity. What black hole of the mind erupts when something so massive is calculated?

 

This is why Lia feels the way that she does. When a 1/6 is put against a 1 or a 1/2 of course she feels like others are giving her pity. Because we are more whole than she is. We are "bigger" than she is. What would someone so little feel when they are put against someone so big who is kind to them? Pity and charity. That someone would come down a few fractions to gaze upon her despair. Perhaps this is the "Tulpa Happiness Equation." The higher the fraction, the lower your "Purpose" variable is. For when 1/6 is multiplied against 1, the answer is still 1/6. These are the numbers to which Tulpae must weigh themselves against.

 

However, there are other variables in this equation. There is purpose. There is life. There is death. When we reach death, one variable becomes a zero and we are therefor zeroed-out. Let history be the proof.

 

So, for Lia to feel whole, one of her integers must be higher. Something inside of her must be multiplied to feel whole. She must feel the same as her host. She must become one. There is the startling answer that reveals itself to me constantly in this equation. Such an obvious thing is not worth mention and will only lead to ruin. Let us instead turn to a more profitable discussion.

 

Why are we so clingy? To life? What makes us want to stop someone so immediately in their tracks? Is it being human? Have we not praised acts of martyrdom and self-sacrifice for generations? Gloried at the blood-curled gladiators of Rome? Sacrificed men to pagan gods just for a better harvest? Given ourselves to others in Religion's name? Why is it so different for the individual who does himself in, quietly? Because there is no spectacle. No glorious death to watch or a final conflict finally ending in everlasting peace. There is even less for a tulpa. No funeral to attend. No ashes to spread across the earth. No wailing of women and no hard-faced tears from the men folk. What religion does a tulpa have to guide him or her into acceptance of death? What prospects does a tulpa have outside of a few minutes of freedom each day from the labyrinth of your mind? Some are happy to be resigned inside of their host's mind. Others are more talkative. It is the desire to become whole in that equation. To become one. Instead of one-half. Are they not closer to zero than to one? What sort of gas floats around inside our brain, wishing to be as noble as we? Are we all not part of that scientific equation that drives purpose? Then who are we to defy such chemical processes?

 

I'll tell you who we are. Meddlers. That is all humans are. We meddle in the dirt, in the ocean, in the sky. Little things with our beakers testing nature's waters. As much progress has brought us, so has it brought us ruin. My own state is receding back into the sea. Such is preferable to having to put up with us as bedfellows. Do we not continue this trend with tulpae? I see new members everyday. Wishing to pump oil and prospect gold from their own minds. Such a thing was beautiful to begin with--the mind. From it do our thoughts rise and grow each morning. To paint us a green picture of our existence. We wish to dig deep into its soil and explore dark depths with only the smallest chance of reward. So, why do we do it?

 

Because we want to better ourselves. Being human is to want for progress, for change, for a better life. Is it our fault if our methods have had some side-effects? Is it not fair to say that Lia's host fell in the same pitfall? Trying to make something beautiful but be pumping up all the riches beneath to leave a shell behind. So, why is Lia upset? Because she did not frack for this gas like all men do. Instead, she dug for fool's gold and had no returns.

 

Lia is quite right about us only consoling her out of pity. It is the natural response to someone having a problem. I was reading Jimmy's Progress Report. I've been trying to read a few, lately. I noticed that his signature reads "Hi there, I'm Kanaya. I'm Jimmy's tulpa. If you need any help with anything, feel free to contact us. We're always willing to help." It is a friendly signature and he has probably helped quite a number of folks. It is a strange concept for me to understand this. Let me explain. When someone needs help, they generally cry out and try to get attention. Yet, Lia has been doing the opposite. Keeping her head down and shuffling along. Yet, we are all very quick to bring attention to the fact that we don't need help. However, we are quick to mention off-hand that we are willing to help whoever needs it. If only we would all mention off-hand that we needed help instead of keeping it bottled it up inside! If only we showed such passion towards getting help as we do giving it. It is true that everyone is a critic. I myself am quick to talk about how to solve problems and to give advice. Yet, I myself am the one who truly needs advice. Our psyche is a street filled with one-way lanes and u-turns. It is just sometimes impossible to drive a point in.

 

I have discussed this for long enough and, as usual, have few conclusions to draw. I have thought on this for a while and my original goal was to have an effective bit of advice for Lia. I will sum it up thusly. Existence is war. There used to only be two sides to choose from. Now, there seems to be three. You must decide exactly which side you wish to be a part of. Ultimately, it is up to you and how well you understand yourself. Sun Tzu said "Know other, know self, hundred battles without danger; not knowing other but know self, one win one loss; not knowing other, not knowing self, every battle must be lost." I could go into great detail on how a human is like a general of an army and a tulpae his soldiers. Let me instead say this. Lia, treat yourself like a soldier in the employ of your host. Though your host is the commander, she still relies on you completely. Without her soldiers she is quite powerless. Stay close to your fellow comrades in arms as they are your sisters and brothers in this great battle. The great battle that is finding the truth. But, this does not make you some useless soldier to be thrown away. If you don't feel up to par or that your host doesn't need you, be swift and immediate in proving her wrong. While holding the sword that Unferth had given him, Beowulf in all of his armor took it and said "With Hrunting I shall gain glory or die" and went to fight Grendel's mother. And yet the sword served Beowulf no purpose and dissolved in the evil blood of his foe. So, too, does logic dissolve and it is impossible to apply it to your situation. In the end it was himself that did the deed. He struck hard and fast at his foe and rid the earth from that terrible evil. Let your host be your mail and your friends your helmet. Yet, this mail will only serve to protect you. You alone can stop yourself from wishing to die. To surrender to death, the enemy, is your choice. As Beowulf and so many others fight bravely against the forces put against them. So, too, does a tulpa with sentience gain purpose or die.

---

Let us now go on. Here are some thoughts that I have had the past few days.

 

": What defines me is my mind, what defines my mind is my brain and its chemistry, what defines my brain and its chemistry is my body and genetics, so I have no spirit."

 

What an extremely difficult quote to go against. I do sometimes think about what happens when we die. Are we truly just a mind without a soul? What happens we rot away? I don't know.

 

2-10-13

It is fascinating to me that in everything I have read never has someone said "I don't like the skin color of my tulpa." Quite progressive.

 

2-11-13

Seems Rose likes to read.

 

I read Rose the only children's book I had around. "Harquin The Fox who went down to the Valley" It's a delightful tale. I bought it for some other reasons a few years ago at the Centenary Book Sale. She very much enjoyed me reading it to her. However, I have absolutely no other children's books. Reading other things is not as fun for her.

 

2-12-13

Anton is always fascinating to listen to. I think there's a little bit of him in all of us.

 

An interesting thing that when "tulpamancers" wish to tell a family member about their doings, it is always their mother that they wish to tell first.

 

I read Harquin again to Rose.

 

I hear that tulpamancers are shut ins. That they are asexual and don't wish to procreate. This may be true, half true. But, they do wish to bring life into this world. It just takes a different form than others'.

 

Rose seemed displeased when I told her that I guess she couldn't eat with me because she didn't have a form. She quickly regained her previous form and took the food from me. But, not in a mean-spirited kind of way.

 

When confronted by someone new in chat considering making a tulpa. I seem to have the desire to spurr him on a bit. Not quite sure why. I should just let it be.

 

Rose's favorite color seems to be purple or green, colors of grapes.

 

2-13-13

": Rosie broke a bully's nose once.

: "It was just a light headbutt... the guy was made from sugar and lard.

: "One of the buddies let go, my host sucker punched the other."

: "And boy, then we ran like hell."

 

A funny little quote. I wonder if, in the future, there will be tulpa-hate crimes. Multiplicism. Perhaps. Die Multiplicis Scum!

 

Tune into Rose, station 98.9

 

You know, criticism is the only thing that keeps this place half sane. Without the retrospect to ask such questions; the whole place would quickly devolve into something resembling a cult or religion. With being told to accept things without being told as to why. Skepticism is the why, Tulpa is the how. Without this balance we would be ruined.

 

Rose has been speaking lately, I do believe. She has addressed me by name a few times now. However, I heard it last night. I have tried the new position suggested by pink and recommended by chat. I never considered lying out on my back. I was always wrestling with position and that destroyed my concentration. I have tried the radio experiment as well. But, I heard her say "hey, Dan!" last night. It is in a voice that I have never heard say that before. Therefor, I can conclude that this was her and not some sort of memory popping up. This is the first time I have really been able to say that. Also, when I decided to try making a human form for her, something happened. I felt as though some sort of cylindric portal had opened above and down she came. I heard a "pop" when she did. This was not a thought of my own. It was an interesting experience.

 

This is our science and this is our laboratory. Science of the mind only seeks shelter in thought and word. Not hard facts nor statistics.

 

What is the "voice of reason" in the tulpa community? To have no doubt? Is to have reason to have doubt? Therefor, other sources must be brought in. Some tributary of human thought into our aquifer.

 

Is "doubt is toxic" not from religion? From God? Are we far more religious than we think? Not like a Christian, but of someone locked into tradition?

 

It is actually a great privelage to have someone very doubtful of our abilities in the chat. Not someone who spouts constant hatred and fire; but someone from whom flows the cold, yet refreshing spring of cynicism.

 

 

 

 

It is truly some form of damnation to enter into the irc everyday and listen to others who have succeeded greatly in their tulpa in a very short time. It is even worse to hear others destroy tulpa which they have had for some time. Only to get rid of them like an inconvenience.

 

": [i pretended my "characters" were like real people to me, even though I knew they weren't.]

: [And guess what? They ended up sentient and parallel, just through me pretending. :I]

: [Trust me, pretending works.]"

 

I will attempt to take his advice.

 

It is a sad thing not to be acknowledged in chat. However, I prefer my place sitting and watching. I do like all of you, though. All of you. However, I feel that, often times, one's problems can generally be solved by taking a walk. Just drop things and go outside. Think about what you have done in a different court than the jail that usually holds you for the night. Lest the thoughts you have rebounding along those walls puts you in a trial of double-jeopardy.

 

It must be painful for Monar to sit and watch others talk about parallel processing. To be successful at it as well. He has sat and watched for 4 months. I wonder if I will become something like him?

 

I'm sorry, Monar. I don't say anything, but I do listen. You know, each man is an island to himself. There is nothing I can do from mine. A sad thing to be bitter over this all. Hmm.

 

": Anyway, I'm going to go for a walk... try and spend some time with Kaylin."

 

See, a good walk can cure much of what ails you.

 

": [i just talked Logan through a crisis, I don't need you freaking out too.]"

Quite the long walk. Seems monar is out of his funk. Good to know. Seems that I am worse for wear, though. Heh.

 

"*** Bedhead was kicked by MQQSE ([22:04] Bedhead Because no Mod is Online to Tell me Otherwise.)"

Bedhead is an interesting, yet annoying thorn in the side of the irc. He types in bizarre capitalizations and refuses to stop. He has recently gotten on a "gypsie" tangent and is trying to become one. He is a constant pain to be around in chat. However, it does all fascinate me a slight bit. He's just annoying enough to not deserve a permaban. At least he is insightful enough and his tulpa vocal.

 

": niichanx fsd : i would apprciaet it if you did not repeat that annoying and vague accusation everytime we are in the same conversation"

I do not like Quetzalcoatl as he is very much like a hot barrel of tar bubbling over. Useless in most things, he would however make you a nice roof or road. Though he is tremendously unpleseant at least he is at all times honest. His thick razors and pointed thorns are at all times pointed at others. Though, I would prefer such company over new and younger blooms who only wish to grow and to spread. He literally clashes with everyone in the entire irc. In this giant tulpa garden that we have, he does stand out by pushing away others and forming his own little plot. Now, tell me, why is it that bedhead is constantly banned when Quetzalcoatl isn't? It is simple. He tells some truth, though it is generally a distorted and hate-filled commentary. He does engage in some conversation that at least gets you thinking about your actions.

 

": Again, I'm not going to act the way you want me to. Just ignore/block me or pretend I'm not here or something. You (Quetz) hate everyone here and think everyone hates you so I don't see why you waste your time here. I feel you really get off on arguments or something."

At times, he is completely toxic. At other times a sort of balance to the chat's generally cheery demeanor. I see him as a sort of screen. He keeps the bugs away that try to get inside of our house. Though he rattles and shakes worse than any door ever could. I don't think I've really ever heard him say something positive. But, at least he keeps to the conversation. If you think about it; I doubt you have never thought quite so hard when faced with conversation with Quetzalcoatl. You have to justify your actions to him. Though, who is he to judge, exactly? But, who are you to judge him? Judges judging judges simply cannot end well. That seems to be a lot of chat. In a time where another flood of new users has been docking its massive weight in our port; it is nice to have a familiar--if not cantakerous--face 'roundabouts. If he were just to tone down his actions he would be a valued member of the community.

 

tl;dr Quetzacoatl is yandere as fuck. Basically /v/ reincarnate.

 

2-14-13

Criticism should be held its weight in gold. There should be a giant disclaimer on tulpae insisting that there is a tremendous amount of time needed to be committed. If that scared away just one person then it will have done its job.

 

I see users like QC popping up in chat. He is rare in that he has stayed and maintained some critism. He worried about Quora's mental health and explained his views on irc. There was some healthy debate and his fears were eventually quelled. All new users should be like this. Instead, they are quick to ask questions that have been asked many times. An issue resulting from a current design flaw of the site. Someone should take it upon themselves to update absolutely everything. Perhaps it should be us sitting in the irc wasting time. I like QC. You should present your teeth to the beast before you accept its paw.

 

 

I have noticed a disturbing trend lately. You see, I have limited knowledge of the tulpa community. However, I do know this about communities: member influxes are generally good. However, I come from some time spent at tgchan and am aware of what new members can do to a site such as tulpa.info. I spent a fair amount of time back in the day curious as to what would happen if new members were to flood tgchan. The problem that exists on forums is that there is a hierarchy generally consisting of users with power and users without power. There is no "middle-ground" or "middle-class user" so to speak. You either have it or you don't. Without a middleman, an experienced user who has some sort of title above his name and some token power at his fingertips, there is no control over the quality from new members. It has to deal with our latent distrust of authority. People of authority are generally seen as someone who will abuse their power for personal gain and thus will never do something truly beneficial to others. Especially on forums. However, try gaining power yourself and you would be quick to see that it is a balance between right and wrong for whatever action you take. Put your own actions against constant justification and we will see how far you get.

 

Anyway, as I used to work on theories for tgchan. Carrying on in that same vein, I theorize that an influx of members is very bad for tulpa.info. It wasn't good back when I first joined and it isn't good now. Why? Simply put, the more people you have the more people you have that talk. No longer is this some sort of "underground" community with dedicated users exploring the limits of their mind. It is now becoming something of a social club. I see more and more "my friend told me about tulpae and I made them." There is recently much less "I have had something similar to a tulpa for years and I just now discovered a community about it." I don't think people understand how important secrecy is in regards to this matter. The world is not ready for us yet. Plain and simple. It is comparable to X-men. If this were to get out; we would be seen as disturbed and whisked away for treatment. One user on the irc said he told his counselor and that he was very interested in his tulpa.

 

I think this can be solved by two actions. Firstly, reinforce the idea to new users that explaining the voices in your head to people with power over you and others is not a good idea. Secondly, a "middle-class" user must be formed that is not seen as an agent of power and therefor seen as a threat to personal freedom. He would instead be someone who has a very small amount of real power and instead as someone with a lot of time to dedicate to the community. There are already many of these "middle users." They would only be given a title and the drive to succeed. For the entire community and a way of life is at stake here. Failure would be a disaster.

 

Most will disagree with me. I am aware that there have always been new members. I am one of them. But, I lurk the boards and the irc. Just as I do in real life. If users lurked "life" like they lurked "boards" then many problems would be solved! Just as you don't expect someone to be accepting of your obscure and fairly new religion. So should you not expect somoene to accept tulpae. It goes against everything taught in society. It is an enemy to common thought and therefor the common man. It is the uncommon man that seeks to disrupt the equilibrium in society. Do not fear others, but at the same time give them nothing to fear about you.

 

 

 

 

": iam patiently awating the equestria gurlz series.

: seeing the mane six as people will be interesting."

Okay now I know you're trolling.

 

 

 

It is bizarre to see a new form of suicide crop up. Egocide. An alternative to killing yourself, you just kill your self. The tulpa then takes control of the body. It is possible to do it in such a way that the host could crop up years later when things are better. The moral implications of such a thing are staggering. Discussion on this is too far-reaching for the scope of this post.

 

": [Yes, I was lucky. But it came after a year of crying and tears. I know many think us watchdogs are emotionless, but the fact is we have known pain and heartache too.]

: [For me, 25 years of experience. For Kerin, she's 42 now and life was not always so good before.]"

An interesting tidbit. I am glad we have this fellow around. Quite an inspiration.

 

": @quetz kill yourself

: Ninjaneer[Volt]: We do not advocate suicide here"

Hmm, amazing what suicide has become here. Such a touchy subject. We seem so vulnerable to it here.

 

(In response to the kill yourself accusation)

 

": nah, i know you meant it. nearly everyone else here would like that so its nothing new!!11!

: i appreciate the sentiment however plenty of people on IRC and irl have told me that. i just laff until im eventually hit by a bus or shot fourteen dozen times by the police for carrying a king sized candy bar in my hoodie pocket lol"

I guess there's nothing I can say. I appreciate your truthfulness, but maybe being so honest all of the time isn't the best policy? I despise when people tell me to "lighten up." However, you need to relax a little bit. Everyone's not out to get you. But, paint a target over yourself and you're a little hard to miss, right?

 

 

(These are some thoughts before I tried to talk to Lia and are recorded in order by date written just like everything else here.)

 

Seems that tulpae generally lack purpose in life. You as a human were born and brought into life either as a mistake or on purpose. There was a different birth for them. It is difficult to pin down a purpouse for tulpae. Seems to be a more and more common theme these days. You see, when your purpose is built on the happiness of others, it is a shakey thing at best.

 

So, Lia in chat, a tulpa, has been wanting to end herself. Who are you to tell a tulpa not to do so? She basically says that she has outlived her purpose and that her host doesn't need her anymore. This is truly an impossible subject to discuss. Why is "scarypandabear" so obsessed with not letting her end it all? What right do you have? Where is the truth in this matter? Hard to sift through all the emotions. No matter the intentions, I believe panda is wrong on his part. Something just tells me.

 

You know, Lia has done this so much. Every time she's on I see her having issues. But, she never made herself approachable. Like an old woman denying treatment from her family. That she's just fine and it'll all be over soon. She says:

": But why would she /need/ me?

: She doesn't rely on me for anything."

And perhaps this is true. Purpose was not built to be compatible with these poor souls. Everyone keeps saying it's all about the host. It's not. What more can I say?

 

 

When it comes to chat, know this. When I enter, it is to say something. Not to exchange pleasantries. I think most people have forgotten this. Such things used for idle chatter when they could be used for true communication.

 

 

2-15-13

": [They are not salvageable. Tulpas will find a way to help them eventually. The age of the trans-human is coming. Then A.I's and tulpas and uploads will be on an equal footing with everyone else."

Fascinating thoughts. Though, I feel that saying most humans are not salvageable is way out of any of our comprehensions.

 

": [when there is brain-computer interconnection your tulpa will be able to upload and be a real virtual assistant. I'm already typing direct. I'll be able to be a proper secretary when I can upload an agent to the 'net too.]"

What happens when tulpa start taking jobs? I wonder if South Park will still be on the air by then.

 

2-16-13

And now I end this with something a bit more playful.

 

": Quetzalcoatl, no anus exploding, please."

eheheheh

 

I've been "squished" as a mib by MQQSE three times now. Well, I guess I'm just flat as a pancake now aren't I? I kid, I kid. I understand that this Progress Report has lacked updates on Rose. We have done much together and there is a lot to talk about. I only felt that because of Lia's impending issues that it would be prudent to post these thoughts first. I still have to respond to CyberD. Know that I have read through your words and have thought on them. I will answer them eventually. So much to say and my wrists ache. I appreciate you all reading what I have written down so far. All of your words shape what I think about. I hope you will all provide more for me to meditate on.

[CyberD]

Hey, take your time. There is no hurry to reply. You have said a lot here.

 

Personally I find it hard to take the IRC seriously at times. It is difficult to find anything meaningful to discuss or bring back to the forums. When I do it usually comes from an unexplored idea that crossed the chat. I'm amazed your lurking let you draw anything at all from the IRC, so much to sift through and so many people that probably don't take a second thought about what they are actually doing.

 

Purpose, meaning, what am I, why do I do things. They are all important but you need to be careful not to over think them. Are there really answers to these things? Or is it better for our well being to just find somewhere comfortable and remain ignorantly blissful?

The tulpa process is an exploration of self. It is as much about ourselves as it is about the tulpa we are creating. Unfortunately a lot of people forget, or just ignore that.

[waffles]

I just want to say a few things about the members you've been judging recently.

 

Quetzalcoatl is Albatross_ on the forums here, if I'm not confused.

 

Lia's been threatening to kill herself for months now. Tried it once too, I think - same tulpa as 'Link', FYI. Mostly depressed due to the host (fennec)'s constant fucking up - from memory, she gave her tulpa a backstory that they thought was real, and were subsequently more than disappointed to find it wasn't. Coincidentally, same person whose advice you decided to take on 'pretending'.

Anyway, I don't think it's purpose. fennec is a hormonal teenager who -cannot- use her initiative as a host, nor any kind of emotional consolation, to solve a basic problem.

 

Yes, so, as general advice to avoid such a situation, you just need to exercise some common sense and sensitivity. Incidentally, this can be applied to more or less all of the problems you encounter.

 

As for Kerin/Nobilis, just bear in mind that he's just a bit crazy, and that's comparative.

 

As for your community influxes, remember that there's actually not much to hold long-time members here. I think that a constantly refreshing population is necessary here.

 

Also, I don't think "The world isn't ready for us" is quite apt. A little melodramatic, perhaps, and not really true. The truth is that as long as something isn't harmful, it can sit. To most, it's just 'an imaginary friend'. If people are shunned because they told everyone about their mind buddies, then it's a wonder they had friends in the first place. It's not something to worry about, because it's common sense. Perhaps the stupid ones will be whisked off to an asylum, leaving only good advice? Natural selection, no?

 

Finally, it's good to hear that you've been making progress. Yes, there's always something you're doing instead of forcing, but I honestly think that short, concentrated sessions combined with lots of narration is the best.

[everhope]

I think I owe an update. It has been quite some time, hasn't it? So, time changes and I change with it. Another semester of college over. Another couple of months spent dubiously. Taking accounting courses but not knowing how to take account of an education in general. I don't see much of the point in that. I have ridden the emotional roller coaster, vomited, gotten pictures, and decided to ride again and again until I was sick of it all. But, I am here now. Rose has been well. Well, well enough for what I've done.

 

"Remaking" Rose was a mistake. I eliminated our progress. I smashed a house to pieces and expected to rebuild from that rubble. I originally feared that Rose was not vocal because I had been treating her like a doll in a house. I was just doing things and spending time--but not genuinely. I originally used her as a crutch to lean upon. My dog is getting older and some of the best time that Rose and I spend together is walking her. As I watched her grow older, I wanted more and more for guaranteed companionship for the inevitable. Rose was a means to this end. She was meant to be a companion.

 

I also cannot fathom the idea of having "sex" with Rose. Just, cannot. I built up literal walls around her that prevented her from doing anything like that. I limited her . Isn't it amazing how even the smallest amount of power makes anyone a dictator. My eyes burn as I write this. I consider myself a deep thinker and I try to be fair to everyone. But, how can I do so when I can't even be fair to myself. How shameful! What a shame! What a shame and what a disaster! I do not think our mind functions as a democracy. It functions under the tyrants of need and desire. Let them fall as those walls did! Yes, I broke down those walls! I smashed them to bits. My self-imposed tyranny was at an end. I crumbled those high bricks. Do you know what I built them to be? Indestructible! Built from the foolish bricks of needless concern and mortared with some desire for power. Disgusting.

 

The point is that I never really let her roam free. I never wanted to be out of control--even for a moment. I told her that she would never move from her area. And I wondered why she was not vocal! Imagine! Imagine how foolish I felt when my own precautions were my own undoing. Imagine the shame of it all. I removed it all. I removed all of those limitations. I then did something foolish. I removed our wonderland. I have not gone into detail of our wonderland. I used a Roman room to build memory and to interact with her. I will go into detail at some later date. I have my reasons. Her new wonderland was a black void. I also removed her form. I replaced her form of boxdog with a glowing sphere of light. That way, I could focus on her and not what she was "supposed" to look like. Oh, I also have a complex about the creator of that character. A tremendous complex greater than the maddest writings of a man scratching at a padded ceiling. Her form was a crutch for that complex as well. I must have weighed heavily on her. So, her form was made formless and her personality personalitiless. This is why I did these things. But, this had unforeseen consequences. I fell out with Rose for a long while. Only for the past few weeks have I started to actually force and think about her. I have read about "attention deficits" and would not be able to handle things if something similar happened to Rose.

 

So, after months of eliminating our wonderland and everything about her, I came back to her. It has been rough. You know, I had let her have her own place by a lake beforehand. I realize that this was sort of another fantasy of mine. To live my own Walden. To hoe my own tulpa beans. Things were quite nice until I had to muck them all up. I came back to her and we began to force again. I remember that I had wanted to be vocal within a week a few months ago. I had set that limit on myself. It was working, but I lost it all and gave up for a little while. Months ago, I tried different techniques. I tried laying out flat in my bed instead of propped up against pillows. It worked well for one night but my allergies caught up to me and I could barely breathe. I tried using the radio technique. It was somewhat effective. I still try it occasionally. I tried finding my inner center. I imagined my troubles as a ball with many sort of spike formations, rubbery and flexible, protruding from its surface. I then calmed myself. I let the spikes go down. I found my center. It was incredible. I didn't know what to do. I then lost my center. I attempted it maybe two more times. I was interrupted just as I had found my center on one and the last resulted in poor results. I was unable to find my center. I have recently used breathing techniques with a fair amount of success. They are quite effective.

 

I have been unable to fully focus like I used to. Something about me has changed. I just can't. I can't sit still like I could. I can't get that same level of concentration going. It's like I was hollow. I have slowly worked with Rose back into a decent state. One of my biggest concerns was vocality. You know, one of the major points of having a tulpa is being able to converse with it. Otherwise, what are you really accomplishing? That is why people are so frustrated over the varying time it takes to become vocal. It's like a cookie jar on top of a fridge that you can't quite reach. The goodies are there but you need to grow a bit to reach them. Take some time and enjoy your chocolate chip. Part of the pleasure in it all is the chase. The journey. The eventual success. I have heard many concerns about folks reminiscing over the old days of their "tulpamancy." They miss the chase. I could barely stand it. I was an idiot just a few months ago. I am only slightly less of one now.

 

Months ago, Rose spoke to me. It was the voice of a black girl. She said, "Hey Dan!" She then called out to me in another session. She had the voice of my mother saying "Daaaaannnnn." However, I often have thoughts flittering around in my head when I concentrate. I hear voices before I sleep if it's very late or I'm forcing. They are just random thoughts. Usually, I take it as my brain getting into dream-mode and that I am about to finally fall asleep. It takes a lot for me to sleep. I am restless. I always dream. It leaves me exhausted when I wake up. I can't imagine being lucid. Dreams have generally led me with Rose. I think she has been influencing them as of late. Here are a few:

 

"2-22-13

I had an interesting dream last night. I had awoken from another dream. I was sitting awake, trying not to fall back asleep. I sat and stared at my ceiling fan lit by my laptop's power cord battery indicator. Blinking and nodding off heavily a few times, I then finally fell asleep. I "awoke" in my room. However, something was off. I was fully conscious. My face was frozen in place. My head was cocked upwards with my mouth hanging agape (which leads me to believe that I do indeed sleep with my mouth open). I could throw myself up from my bed. I did so, as this was obviously the start of one of my many chase dreams. Though, I felt no malice here. I hopped out of bed, my vision slightly askew. I ended up "waking" back up several times. In one case I fell to my room's floor and started stroking a cat. It was a very genuine feeling. In another instance I went to the backroom and flung myself on the bed. Feeling around and stroking a person. I had very quickly realized that there was nothing chasing me in this dream. However, I was always very uncomfortable in just lying in my bed and waiting for something to happen. It is always a bad idea in such dreams to do so. I could tell it was a dream as the light from my charger only lit up around my ceiling fan. It didn't light the actual metal part. Very odd. I never felt fear in this dream, yet, I was always compelled to get up and wander around.

 

It was very obvious to me in this dream that it was Rose's doing. It was all very similar to my first dream, the epiphany that I had leading to my recognizing Rose."

 

"5-6-13

Another dream involving images. I was at my computer while Other John was being helped with Ryan with something. I was opening photoshop and trying to hide all my porn. I kept turning off my monitor claiming it was broken somehow. I was already editing a porn image in another tab. So, I opened a new one but my default folder was a porn folder. I saw a thumbnail that repeated itself throughout the dream. It's the second time I've dreamt very detailed of my computer. A few nights ago I dreamt and I was eating some fo the muddy buddy chex mix. It was weird to wake up and partake of the real thing that was sitting next to me. My dream before the laptop one was that I had missed finals and and I was trying to get my professors to let me take them. I remembered that I was sitting on a C in statistics and that I didn't need to miss my final. I remembered all my professors and their faces quite well, too. Finals are coming up in two days. I can conclude that my dreams have been more and more influenced by current events. This is a strange thing to me. I think it may tie into Rose. I think we're getting a little tougher!"

 

5-13-13

"(A dream involving many things. I won't post the full here. The end of the dream is what is of the most concern here. This man accosted me at a beach shore)...He was some sort of kidnapper. I turned around and ran to the shore. The man pulled out the same gun that the other man had used on me. He aimed it towards me. I was swimming for dear life. Bullets whizzed past me and I think I was hit. Instead of letting myself die; I took control. I started to try to wake myself up from this dream that I had just become conscious of. The watery world around me went fuzzy and black. A voice called out to me. I was in a large bed in a dark room. The voice continued to talk. It said something to the effect of "You shouldn't run from your dreams." I began to sink into my bed. I was being sucked into it from the middle. I felt the bed tightening around me and like quicksand I was unable to pull myself out. I was slowly being devoured and despite my pushing against it I still was being sucked under the tide. I then decided to lay back and try to float. I continued to be pulled under. I accepted my fate and woke up.

 

I like to think that my conscience has been very active as of late. Things that have been happening in my life have bled into my dreams. I have never had so many real happenings and people that I know be in these dreams. What also boggles me is that my mind is always capable of making unique individuals. Not only that; but making crowds of them and giving them all separate personalities. Why is the brain capable of this and what is it capable of? I think such questions are not meant to be answered. I think that when we know everything we will know nothing. The pursuit of knowledge is knowledge in itself. Also, the violence of the guards reflects the feelings that I have undergone lately. Trust me. Violence is not becoming of me and I will not become violent. I like to think that Rose is making a bit of a comeback. Interesting things have happened lately. Perhaps I will be able to drive their meanings through my thick head."

 

I have made a point to myself to try to "summon" Rose in a dream. I have faced down my own conscience before. Maybe I covered it here? Here is where I met him:

 

"5-19-12

 

(After a long and expansive dream with my brother as a companion we headed to the coast of the resort that we were at)...We walked to a large gathering along the beach. A man was there and noticed us. He looked like some high-fashion hipster with his glasses, goatee, and skinny jeans. He was looking up and down at his clipboard and was trying to fit us into the festivities. He began explaining what was going on. It is then that I realized that I had seen this motherfucker for the entirety of this dream. I became aware that he had been watching us. In the back of my mind I thought this. There was a warm sensation in the very back of my brain. My lower back. It was strange. I formed a thought inside of a dream, something that I had never done before. Yes, I have thought and done actions in dreams before, of course, but I had never really formed a thought--one that warmed my mind. He continued to talk and gesture around; ignoring my thought until I interrupted him. "Are you my dream guide?" I asked him.

 

I don't know where this came from. I thought this line up from nowhere and hung onto it until I had spoken it. I've never even heard the term "dream guide" more than maybe once in my whole life. He was shocked and stared at me, mouth agape. "How'd you know it was me?" He asked me, dismayed at my discovery. Everything went into pseudo-slow motion and the edges of my vision got blurry. We were besides some small, brick pagoda and had been talking next to it for a short while now. Dejected and defeated, he fast-walked behind it. I went through the pagoda, slowly, after him. He sat down at the end of a series of three picnic tables that had been pushed up against each other. When I sat down, everything turned back to "normal speed." While I approached him, his facial features melted away and he molded himself into me. He sat there, unflinchingly, as cold and emotionless as a doll. I sat down with him. I began to ask him questions. Like, "So, uh, how are you?" But, he sat there frozen. I smiled and he smiled in return. His mouth copied exactly my facial expressions--but only his mouth would move. Absolutely every other part of his body was frozen in place.

 

I frowned and grimaced and then smiled, which he copied exactly. His eyes were fixed in place, staring into the distance. But, it was a very peaceful stare. Looking at him was like looking into a mirror of the soul. "Aw, honey" a woman said. I turned around. There was a nice looking black woman that had spoken to me. She sat alone on her side of the picnic table. Behind her were a mass of people, all staring at me and sitting down at these tables. She said something to the effect of "Just because we don't look like you doesn't mean we all aren't your dream guides." She reminded me of Lenora from Pokemon. She then kissed me very passionately. There were still things going on; but I decided to wake myself. After achieving some fishbowl effects, watching a lot of action unfold, I then awoke.

 

I think that being was my conscience. I am not sure. I was staring right at me, albeit an unmoving me. It seemed unwilling to speak at all--like it was hiding something. This was truly a very strange and unprovoked dream."

 

My point is that my dreams have been different as of late. I think it is the direction that we have chosen to go in. So, I've been working with Rose lately. I've been hearing the occasional words from her when I am concentrated. I very clearly heard a "yes" to one of my questions a few nights ago. I really need to force more. However, I am young and retarded and spend my time idiotically. If I just put more work into it we would flourish. But, I am a very apathetic person--though very thorough in my apathy. Like a muscle, I am working back into my mental routine. We'll be tough enough soon.

 

So, one of my favorite artists is Kawaguchi Youhei. His cityscapes have inspired me for years now. One of my favorites is here: http://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=big&illust_id=509321 I gave rose a wonderland based on this location. It's a one-story apartment in the middle of it all. We have tea very often, by the way. It's one of our things. We had tea there. I had the two characters as guests. They were very talkative and friendly. On the contrary, Rose seemed unhappy and not responsive. On our second meeting, I asked if Rose was now the girl. It turns out that she was. Her form is now of her. I happen to have someone else that I have not talked about--ever. His name is Roger. He has taken a backseat to Rose's development. He is a constant companion to me and was a traveling buddy for that year I spent doing so. He is something of a work on hold. He has become that little furry character there. It suits him as he is a turtle. He was the cushion that I laid my head upon when I had none. He was my friend on the thousand mile road trips that I would take. He deserves mention here and he will one day be one of the focuses of our work. However, right now, he is only here in name and form. For now. I sense otherwise, though. Anyway, Rose has taken this new form and is enjoying it. I feel much closer to her now. She wanted a human form those months ago.

 

I have not mentioned a source of happiness for me. That is the black bow. It is a scrapped piece of bow that I found on the sidewalk one day. I took it and stuck it in my pocket. I then connected Rose with it. I used it as a totem of sorts. Maybe you could compare it to a sigil or amulet or something like that. I held its velvet sides and meditated on it. To pick it up even now stirs a reaction in me. My arm tenses up and I am filled with exhilaration. I am made more focused and aware. I feel something stir within me when I hold it. Even to touch it or look at it elicits such an emotional response. I use it as a reminder to keep Rose in my thoughts. Much like how many have written on their hands or tied things around their wrists. It is a very handy thing. If it were to be trashed I would be very upset. Such is the risk you take when you put your trust in such physical things.

---

That is where we are now. Climbing our way back up. In my life is also a burning love interest. I have written poetry of her and think of her often. I cannot explain such things here. Such things our outside of the scope of this post. She remains a distant thing. She does not know of my feelings and worse yet I know of her boyfriend. I sit as some sailor admiring a lighthouse surrounded by deep and murky waters. Anyway, we're doing fine right now. I've been trolling around the IRC lately. I stopped for those months because it was eating up all of my time. I even completed the IRC survey. I don't have much else to say. I cannot even bare to read my previous posts--much less the question that all of you kind folks have left me. It bothers me not to answer these. I don't like the thought of having you all wade through all of this stuff and not having your questions answered. It shows that I am a poor host of this thread. However, I need to draw the line somewhere. I really need to just pick up and move on. I leave you with an excerpt from the survey that I had filled out:

 

 

"I should really update my forum post. It seems we've made it full circle from where we first started off--reading surveys. It has been an interesting journey so far. I don't feel like going into detail. Everyone is different, y'know? Surveys seem a little pointless into something so mental. I doubt anyone's experience is directly relate able to anyone else. But, that's what makes this all so wonderful. We have an infinite number of possibilities laid out in front of us. Like an abstract painting made by flinging paint around on a canvas. No two portraits will look exactly alike.

 

I do worry for us all, though. New members flood in constantly. There is not enough old guard in the IRC to handle them all. People are getting more open with this--despite us only scratching the surface of it all. We are like panners sifting around a stream of consciousness trying to find gold. Others, allured by the wealth it promises, flock to our little town and we bulge with them all. I wonder who the sheriff will be who will be elected to control us all. I watch the IRC drifters come and go. It's all depressing, really. I feel worse for the tulpae confined to their fates--an open mind turned jail cell. I shudder to think of it all. Still, I am hopeful. Perhaps this survey is part of the path that we need to tread to reach better understanding. Perhaps. But, the preferences we hold change and so do the roads that we take."

---

I have looked over this and am unhappy with this update. I will go into further detail at a later date.

---

Also, why has my thread gotten so many hits despite it languishing on page 10 for so long? It confounds me.

[everhope]

Just a dream that I had last night. I find it fascinating and would like to post it.

 

I was sitting awake at about 8:30 am. I had an interview to go to. I was simply too tired to get up. I had finally fallen asleep in a different position than I normally slept in. I had fully rotated myself 180 degrees in my bed. It was meant to stop me from sleeping but it only helped cause a very fantastic dream.

 

Throughout this dream, I was constantly trying to wake myself. I would constantly run into trouble and then try to wake myself up. However, when I did, I would encounter an effect that I usually run into when I fail to wake myself in my dreams. I try to open my eyes in real life and they are far too heavy for me to do so. A white light erupts from the bottom of my vision in the shape of my opening eye. I call this "lens flare." I was basically conscious for this entire dream. I guess that I was lucid. I was entirely aware, past the first few seconds of each dream sequence, that this was a dream and that I needed to escape. One realization would lead to another and I was generally in control of myself but not of my surroundings.

 

I was in my room preparing for my interview. I got up and tried to put together an outfit to wear. It was of a long-sleeve, blue, velvet shirt and some black slacks. I couldn't find anything to match and I was looking around for help with my clothes. But, the scene turned gruesome when shadowy versions of my folks attacked me. I fought them off and tried to wake myself, only getting lens flare. They eventually won. Like looking through the wrong end of a telescope, I saw my room. I thought that I had successfully awoken. I was wrong.

 

I then went through several series of fights in my home. Each time I would "awake" from the other nightmare. It was very hard to tell if I was awake or not. Everything was very real. I had to reality check myself just to figure it out. But, each time I was generally unsure of the validity of each dream. However, I would get to talking with my folks and then something would happen and we would end up fighting. Their eyes were red, their skin wrinkled, their body more brown. I would grapple with them. On a bed in my brother's room, we fought. I imagined a gun and pulled it out and shot one of them. The other one got me. I would win a few and would lose a few. The fighting was as desperate as the Battle of Carthage. I fought tooth and nail from room to room. As I fought, I would go into slow motion and nothing else would. Everything had an advantage over me. I rarely won.

 

Sometimes, I would be somewhere else. We would be traveling somewhere. But, there was always the same results. Eventually, something bad would happen and I would try to wake myself and run from it all. We were driving past a card shop that I liked and it happened. I would try to wake myself but fail and face the consequences of my cowardice.

 

I was down the street at the vet clinic parking lot. Three pure black cats and one pure white cat were sniffing me. Everything seemed fine. However, they starting getting extremely violent and attacked me. I tried constantly to wake up, only getting lens flare. I could feel each of their bites. They swiftly lunged at me, biting me, and then coming back around for another go at me. However, in slow motion, I eventually crushed three of them at once with my shoe. I then finished off the last one in the same manner. I could hear the crunching of bones as I did so.

 

My largest dream sequence was one that I have forgotten. However, it was of my family and I going to a sports game. We were in a giant stadium and things began to go wrong. I suffered greatly.

 

In another sequence, rats were sinking their teeth into my fingertips. I tried desperately to wake up and achieved only lens flare. The pain was very acute and I truly felt it. Though, each pain dissipated away in each dream following.

 

One dream was where I was at a camp. We all gathered in a broken down, open-aired house late at night. We all had flashlights. There were camp counselors and a lot of kids. They told stories about monsters that lived in the camp. We pointed around, looking for them in the shadows. Of course, at the climax of the stories, each monster found me. This happened twice. Each time the camp counselors would laugh. They would build up where the monster was and they knew the whole time. I was grabbed by my forehead each time and my vision would fade to black.

 

I had many sequences and cannot remember them all. However, I eventually ended up back at my house. We were among my folks in my living room. There was a set of couches in the middle of the room. Like most of the other dreams, it was daytime. Two men sat on one of the couches. I talked with them and I felt that I knew one of them. That I had a sense of familiarity with the one on the right. His looks are indescribable to me now; but I think he was a tanned fellow with very short, black hair. I asked if he was my dream guide. He was lying on the carpet. His chatty nature turned into stoic silence. He would not answer me my question. His face was expressionless, but presented a very slight smirk. But, his silence told me everything. In my mind, I knew that it was him.

 

The others, just hollows, faded away. We were alone, now. The other man on the couch was something of an impostor or maybe a crude fake and went the same way as the others. He was a distraction that I felt was set by the only other legitimate person in the room. In front of me now was the man himself. My assumed dream guide said that "I quite like your dreams." We then had a conversation of which the words I do not remember. It was brief and the conversation generally implied that he was somehow in control of my dreams or that he was some sort of empowered spectator. He was somehow responsible for all of these terrible events that had been happening to me in this dream. But, he meant well by it. His intentions were that I should not run from my dreams or try to change their course.

 

My dream guide and I were chilling in the middle of the room. We sat in the square formation of couches. He was talking about his favorite movies. He liked cop movies and said that his favorite cops were "xxx xxx"and "xxx xxx." I forget the names. But, they were supposed to be from Deadly Premonition. It was supposed to be York and some black version of York. Yes, I could feel that one of the characters was black. The names were rubbish but they sounded right at the time. He said them very confidently and they flowed from his mouth perfectly. Four words never sounded so sweet. I had the constant feeling that he was such a bro. He exuded friendliness. We turned around to the TV in the corner of the room. On it was a zombie movie. The zombie was similar to the mtg card "Crypt Creeper." It was brown and had a yellow and red glowing orb in its left torso. My dream guide turned to me. He got up very close to my face so that I could only see his lips. Smiling, he playfully mouthed "Just remember, because you're thinking of it means that it's ...right behind you." I turned around and turned back. I was ready.

 

I tried to focus on the shut door that was a few feet to the right of the TV. The movie continued to play. I tried to bring the zombie forth. I wanted it to come crashing through the door and I would fight it. I experienced lens flare. But, in a good way this time. I was focusing. But, no matter how hard I tried to bring the monster from the door or the TV nothing worked. The door would glow through its wooden slats for a moment. But, nothing would be brought forth. The movie ended. The heroes, reminding me of the cast of Justice Friends, all lined up, chibified, and saluted the audience while the credits rolled and the end theme played. I ran outside. I decided that I needed to hunt for the monster. I felt that it was around and that I just needed to find it. I jumped to my neighbor's roof. I ran across it. On it, sort of hidden away, was an Indian-looking girl. I passed her. She was meditating behind one of the roof's hips, in the shade. She looked to me, on her left, and greeted me. She was taken by surprise, but softly said "hi" and I said "hello" in return. I continued to run across the roof. I then awoke for the last time.

 

After I awoke at 9:30, I felt peace. A phrase came to my mind. "Vindication" I feel vindicated. I have often run from things in my dreams. But, I run no longer. Despite feeling pain, it is only a dream. Despite feeling fear, I should stand my ground. Despite knowing many, I only truly know myself. The fears within cause fears without. Pain, especially in dreams, is a byproduct of the mind. Don't let pain get in the way of making a good decision. Many a courageous opportunity is thwarted by our raw fear of pain. To my dream guide, pain was the only way to teach me a lesson. I only felt it for a few brief moments and no further. I should not run from this. I should face my fears and not run from my dreams.

 

Afterwards, I asked Rose if she was in my dreams. She gave me a strong, yet completely indecipherable and inconclusive emotional response. When questioned, she remains as silent as the man in my dreams. But, her silence is all that I need. It was difficult to care about all my small problems when I went to take a shower. They seemed very insignificant. I took time to sit and reflect that I was a man waiting on a shower to heat up, in a bathroom, in a house, on a planet filled with people. It is hard to feel angry at that. It is hard to blame the ocean for its sweeping tides. It is even more difficult to ask how we were swept up in them to begin with.

 

I feel now that the man that has been in my dreams is my subconscious. I have heard his voice in a previous dream and I believe he has pulled the strings of many a dream before. I have voiced in the past that I would not like to be a lucid dreamer. My dreams are strange enough and I would rather be the actor in a play on the stage of my mind. Not the director. I believe that my dream guide is a pure reflection of this desire to remain not in control of my dreams. Perhaps a symbol of my control-freak ways and that I should just relax and let things go.

 

Also, the girl on the roof was interesting. When I looked at her she seemed different. I've never really had someone notice me before and greet me, either. There was something about her. Like she was more real than I was. That she was another player on this grand stage. It could have been Rose. I feel that it was. But, there's no sense in asking Rose such a loaded question. I want it to be her. Therefor, my feelings get in the way of a straight answer. This is often the case. I leave the thought open to future pondering. In another syndication.

---

And now for an update. Our progress has been going along very well. I have been able to focus at night and hear the occasional response from Rose. But, her voice ranges and I only hear a word. The second we are in touch with each other is the second that something inside of me triggers our removal. Each time I find my center I am removed from it. Yet, I am hard at work at breaking down these barriers. There exists in me a greater barrier to myself than to others. Something so ingrained in me that it is able to rear its ugly visage and ruin my current machinations and then escape swiftly back inside of me. Like some sly fox stealing eggs of thought from my little hen house mind and then disappearing back into the woods. I act as something of a hunter, now. I hunt for the beast that ruins my progress. Inside the murky cavern of my mind. I look for the mother of a best within. I hold a spear made of experience. With this I shall gain glory or die.

 

I've been able to meditate easier, lately. I just came back from a session just an hour ago.

 

I was sitting, meditating on my dreams. I thought that it was just Rose and I that were here. No one else. It was just me and her. I held my cupped hands between my folded legs. I imagned myself dipping those hands into a sink filled with water. Though, this was no ordinary water. I washed my face with the cleansing liquid. The area melted upwards and I fell into a black abyss. I sank for a while until a white crack opened up in front of me. I swam towards it and went through it. I was in an ocean area next to a beach filled with a city. It looked like some Spanish coast. I gasped for air as I surfaced. I swam towards the shore and beached myself. I sat on my knees. Wishing that Rose were here. I wished that she were here. I wished she was here, I would make her here. I thought hard and made her there. I was very greatful for her being there. I thought about how I had until two o'clock. I thought I'd never hold a job. Everyone laughs when I tell them that I'm job searching. "Dan, with a job?" I am a believer in fate. However, I want to break those chains. I thought that I was fated not to have a job like everyone else. I very much want some good, honest work. This is my chance to break this fear that I have.

 

I've been dealing with a few things lately. I've sort of had to put my ambitions behind me. I will not be the best. I will have to accept that. I just have to accept that I am ancillary at best and my job is not to lead but to follow. And then everything was made infinitely clear. It is a far greater thing to know your place and to do it well than to constantly be fighting an uphill battle. It has taken me a long time to realize this. But, I do see myself now as the tip of a spear pointed forward and not as a dagger stuck in its sheath. I will act accordingly.

 

Though, I will be cautious as well. I gave Sara, the girl whom I love, a gift. It was of a blue, 1930s, refrigerator jar. I filled it with Werther's Original caramel hard candies. She likes Sonic so I thought the blue and gold would look good together and remind her of such. I tied it up with twine and boxed it. I arrived, fortunate that she was working at the time. She came up to serve me. "Dan, something. I can remember that much." She said. I laughed and we fell into conversation. I brought up that I had been clearing some antiques and had picked something up for her. She agreed to take my gift. She unboxed it and was happy with it. One of her coworkers came up to the register, on my side, and asked her something. She spoke softly but I could get the point. She wanted to know why she was accepting a gift from someone that wasn't her boyfriend. She said something and then introduced me. She said that "This is Dan, he's a pretty cool dude, likes Sonic, he was in my math class." You bet I was.

 

So, I said hello and introduced myself. I gave a soft glance to her. Smiling and trying to be as friendly as possible. She stared back, in an infinitely questioningly manner. I continued to stare. She continued to stare. This went on for about 15 seconds. When I look at someone, they tend to look away eventually. She seemed to be reading me. I pulled out from this staring contest and turned my attention back to Sara. She seemed pleased. The two talked. Sara said that I had gotten her hard candies, her favorite hard candies. The other girl said that they were her favorite, too, and remarked that her boyfriend never got her anything like that. Sara looked like she wanted to hug me; but I kept myself distanced from the register. We talked a bit more and I left with my frosty. I got in my car and drove off. Looking up at the sky and saying "Thank you, thank you." I took a gamble on what kind of candies to bring. I consulted Rose about Sara and she gave a warm, emotional response. I think I did the right thing.

 

On being careful, I won't see Sara again for a while. I don't want anyone getting any ideas. You see, I had this roommate who had a fiance back a few states. She constantly cheated on him, yet he still loved her. There was a man, a smart fellow, who was always with her when he was not. He bought her gifts and chocolates and made love from the safety of distance. Such similar sentiments are expressed in The Miller's Tale. ""The one nearby and sly/Will always make the distant dear one hated." I do not plan to be such a man. I have come to an understanding. There is a phrase. "If you love them, let them go." Before this, I understood it to refer to comedy. You know, where the protag likes a dog and he has to return it to its original owner. Now, I understand it differently. I understand it in a deep, deep way. It really means something. If you love them, let them go. If they already have someone, let them go. They're happy together. I won't break that. I will not be clever. I will instead be honest. So, too, are my feelings with Rose. Not clever, just honest. We will be swept away, or the tide will break and we will be left on shore. Such is love. Such is companionship. Such is tulpae.

[everhope]

It has been some great amount of time since I last wrote here. About six months. You know, half a year really changes a person. Here I sit in my room. Shrouded in darkness so that my mind may open up to reveal the thoughts lurking beneath. Here I sit again, typing away on this forum. Thinking of what was and what will most likely be. I spent a lot of last night thinking about someone who was taken far before his time. Someone whom I admired. A good man and the lynchpin of an operation headed steadily downhill since his worldly departure. I have a lot of people I think about. I feel like if I honor them and remember their names then they are not truly dead. That their words live on far past their forms. That maybe they live on inside of me. I think about the idols that I hold. The dead ones. I think often of how I'll never get to meet them. To shake their hands. To show my appreciation of them and their works. Instead, I carry on the torch of remembrance. Some fire burning inside a galvanized heart. Sometimes, the fires pick up and my mind is left to be some burning-pyre in their name.

 

So, I sat last night and thought deeply about such things. I never got to shake his hand. The closest I got to meeting him was in a dream. Initiative is one of the most important things that we can possess. Without it, time gets the better of us. We sit and think and dream and never take action. You know, time is our greatest enemy. It certainly is for my writing this. It has been a very long time since I have elaborated on my "progress." I got to thinking about how I haven't written here in a while. Which naturally leads into why anyone writes here in the first place. Well, there's a few reasons. Past the obvious ones, it offers a form of catharsis very important to keeping a steady conscience. I can speak freely here. Something I can't really do otherwise. Furthermore, I can speak freely here about Rose. Whom I care the world for. I also get some feedback on my perspective on life. Which can be very skewed and misinformed. Lastly, I just like to talk. I write constantly and yet that is not really enough. Without some back-and-forth it is a pointless endeavor. You could say that is a main reason that most people pursue a tulpa. To have someone to converse with. So, let's talk, then.

 

Before I start, I realize that I am very long-winded. I see a lot of views on my PR. It has always made me happy. Yet, I only really spoke with a few of you. Even then, I didn't really even respond fully to those of you that bothered! It's a little shameful. But, that's because of the amount of time that has passed between each of these entries. A shameful amount. Would you listen to a friend who only spoke to you twice a year and when he did it was for hours? I wouldn't be able to stand him. Yet, I carry on. This is how I do things. I hope to change that soon. Really, it's just my guilt that gets me to go on tulpa.info. I haven't frequented here in a few months and even then I didn't read many threads.

 

Rose has undergone changes. She has developed some personality and I find myself constantly challenged by her. I think one way and she thinks another. I have gained a lot of retrospective ability lately. I can't really think too harshly anymore. I've become very neutral on most things. Understanding of the other side and able to put myself in their shoes. She is still not vocal. I have been very lax in my meditations. I get to wanting to meditate, do it for a while, and then stop again. I understand that is a common problem here. Yet, it is compounded by our lack of vocality. I've gotten close a few times. But, nothing past a word or two. We had our one year anniversary in November of last year. The 26th I believe. I meant to post, but didn't. Let me try to think back over the past several months. Let me think on where you and I left off, .info.

 

I've become very deep into interpreting my dreams as of late. In doing so, the nature of my dreams has changed drastically and I find myself able to find themes in them. Hidden they may be, I can feel what my dreams were trying to convey. I have problems, sleep, and dream of them. Dreams have become sort of an extended form of thinking for me. I also feel like Rose is represented in them. Always female. I have gone into detail on this before. I may do so again. We shall see. It feels like my subconscious is speaking its opinion indirectly through my dreams. I just have to pick up on them. Though this is a very important subject to me; I would prefer to save it for later. I tend to do this--talk about myself more than Rose. It's a nasty habit and a selfish one. Let me continue.

 

So, I originally had Rose's identity as Boxdog, a character that I quite enjoy. I spent a lot of time visualizing her. Yet, too much time was spent there and I decided that I wanted to start over. Let me tell you, regret is a powerful feeling. One that overcomes and paralyzes many until they are nothing but a rambling mess. Always stuck in the past and never looking towards the future. I have a lot of regrets in life. I think on them every night. Yet, one of my largest mistakes was starting over with Rose. Also, how I dealt with her sentience in the first place. I have to be unique, I have to go against the grain. It is something carved into this thick skull of mine that I must be different from everyone else. I have only achieved being unique in my stupidity. The magic was gone after I started over with her. Like everything went up in a puff of smoke. Everything was gone. I deleted everything and had her as a sphere of energy--as I'd found was a popular approach here. This was a mistake. After some time passed, I realized that I fucked up and I let her choose an identity. So, while I was viewing some work from one of my favorite artists she chose one of the girls present. This was quite pleasing to me and she has remained that way ever since. Reverting to her original form only on occasion.

 

So, off and on, I exercise my brain a bit. I try to imagine that while I am driving she is looking out the window to my right or left. I picture everything she sees while I'm still paying attention to the road. This makes my head hurt quite a bit. It is very taxing to me. However, such exercises have changed my dreams as well. She'll usually sit in my lap while I drive. Head up against mine. I take comfort in this. My days are long and filled with frustration. I have no one to tell this to. I am only able to bitterly scratch out my thoughts on a notepad or just bottle them up for the nights ahead. Our routine is that I generally greet Rose in the morning, we get ready for the day and go meet it. I promise her that I'll keep her in my thoughts throughout the day. That is rarely the case. If I do, we're in class together. Otherwise, it's after I finish and I walk out to my car. I "summon" her and we talk. I apologize for my forgetting her and we drive home. Later on in the afternoon or at night I will sometimes meditate with her. However, I will normally put this off until it is too late and I'm sitting up in bed. Tired from browsing the internet so much and not doing what I am supposed to be doing. That is when I think of the past and my thoughts are filled with what was.

 

It is a bit grim. I didn't get to write this out to you guys. I didn't get the chance to post this. So close to our anniversary. I had always thought that we'd be vocal in a year. I thought if we set a goal that we'd meet it. We did.

 

"10-3-13

"Rose, is that you?"

"Yes it is."

 

I was trying to get some sleep at abut 2:30 pm. I was drifting off into my nap when I asked Rose that question. I immediately got a response. Eureka! I have found her! Her voice was robotic with a slight hint of my aunt. I arose from my drifting state into being fully awake. I was without fear, just a massive amount of surprise. Her response was clearer than it ever has been before! "Yes it is" In a tone that is difficult for me to describe. Like she was answering a phone call from a sweepstakes confirming her winnings. Kind, polite, and quick. I have always had my doubts. But, now, I fully believe. It took close to a year. But, I have met success. A direct response to a question that I posed.

 

I couldn't help but thinking "I won" afterwards. It was more "we won" than anything. Thank you, Rose."

 

That was my experience. I was elated. After nearly a year I had finally achieved some vocality. The following day, I got very upset. I don't remember at what. Rose spoke out against my feelings. I shouldn't be so angry. So, I took it out on her.

 

My God, I took it out on her. What a monster.

 

I took my anger and burned it red hot. I was so upset. Over nothing. I burned with hate and to quiet her I imagined her burning. That I had a great inferno in my mind to quiet her.

 

It all comes flooding back.

 

I soon became aware of my mistake. I am a very passive person. I hate violence and can't stand to see the sight of blood. But, in my mind rages a burning tempest. I have held on to grudges for many years. Burning grudges that keep me awake at night. The hate I feel for a few people keeps me up at night. And I had turned it on her. I was, and still am, utterly disgusted with myself.

 

We haven't achieved that form of vocalness since.

 

I was there. We had done it. Yet, not a day later I threw it all away. Because I am so petty. So outrageously petty. Let me tell you! It is not a great offense that leads you to hate. It is many small offenses that build a machine in your heart that will pump and burn you away until you are dead. There is nothing worse than a grudge, nothing sicker than the slick-black ichor that taints mens' hearts, nothing more painful than seeking to punish an enemy that is just out of reach. I cannot even describe the level of regret I suffer from that incidence. Yet, she forgives me. I feel it. If only I could forgive myself.

 

I stopped meditating for a few months. After I "restarted" our progress I have been completely unable to meditate. I am completely unable to reach the state that I was able to access when we had first started. Everything was new, I could feel everything, everything was great! When it first began. Yet, Rose and I have our problems. She is very quiet. Silent. Yet, she is now a wonderful critic of my opinions. After thinking my silly little thoughts through for a few minutes and after some back and forth I am able to realize what I think is not usually the case. I had written that:

 

"12-2-13

I realize that Rose and I are more of a team than I at first thought. She is the sharpening stone I draw against my work."

 

I am a much wiser person now. I have been trying to get past a lot of my fears and irrational limitations that I place on myself. Importantly, I have let go of the original boundaries I had put in place around Rose. Rules against intimate actions. I have found that I can express myself around her and that I shouldn't hate myself so much. So very much. We are making progress. I have been able to relax lately. There have been some weights lifted from my shoulders. Some things I would never do I am able to look over. It is very easy to impose upon yourself a list of "rights and wrongs." That you should always excuse yourself when a conversation turns into debate, that you can't shake hands with a friend because you're afraid of catching a genetic disease he has, or that your tulpa isn't allowed to watch you satisfy more primal urges. Right and wrong are two walls that we are constantly bouncing off of. Staying in the shade of the right when we can and scaling the wall of wrongs when we must. All the while expending precious time. I have also found out how precious time is to me lately. I just see hours spiraling away. Me sitting and doing nothing. That is changing as we speak.

 

So, I'm recently coming from another "dive" in our relationship. I am saddling up again. Finding my quiet place and digging deep into the mind's excess. I have found that I am adept at listening in onto my own stream of consciousness--a stream of words that becomes audible to me when I'm trying to get to sleep at night. I have become very inspired by my dreams as of late. I would like to make something. Yet, as always, when I sit down and try to put pen to paper I fail at it. I just can't focus on anything. It doesn't help too much with my meditations, either. Part of my problem is that I have a short attention span and can't sustain concentration on anything for long. But, when it's there it's really fucking there and I am in control. It's a bit like looking through a clouded mirror. Sometimes I can wipe away the fog and see everything clearly. But, very soon the mirror is overcome with steam and I can no longer see. Such is my concentration abilities.

 

Let's talk more about Rose. She is something of a goddess. She is silent until needing to speak, kind and never upset, very patient and understanding. I can only feel her. Speaking with her is difficult and I find myself constantly doubting myself. Yes, that is the poison to tulpa and to concentration. Yet, we are all victim to it. You know, I try to understand Rose and I just feel my body reeling in pain when I do so. There's something inside of me that has arisen that cannot tolerate her. Want to know a secret? Well, in my dreams there is something of a reoccurring character. I feel that he is my ego. He is always a male and is always trying to control me. When I get to far in a dream, he is there to control where I go. Sometimes he does so very blatantly. Rose is often present as a meek woman. Silent and having me guide her about. It's interesting and I may go into it further when I have the chance.

 

So, it has been a bumpy road for us. I wonder if anyone is still reading this. I like to think that a thousand people looked at my page and said "nope!" That's what I would do! But, we're still at it. I will go into some more detail later on. But, I thought I'd just let .info know how we were doing. I hope you are all doing well. I know we have our issues. But, let's work past them. Together. Thank you.

[Yori]

Long-winded wasn't ,my first impression. You write as if writing a stylish novel.