Saturday, June 4, 2016

writings from grad school in neuroscience

Criticality. Shortness. Science.
Criticality is instigated by a second messenger cascade that modulates autocrine signaling. As one binds to another, they can be absorbed by the other and poison them from the inside out. Alternatively they may maintain detached on the surface and indirectly imbue the other with self-doubt which reacts with defense mechanisms to form a compensating shell that slowly desensitizes and degrades the receptivity of the cold motionless surface. The main effects are accounted for by the mirrored coding of their actions. Homeokinesis, managing the untidy foldings and structure with the energy of another.  Eventually they will be broken down and reduced to tarnished metaphors of themselves, microscopic, inanimate, diagrams of their souls.
To be cold is to forget heat, to be hot is to forget cold. 
For approximately fifteen minutes everyday for five days then for 30-45 minutes on subsequent days in a rhythmic lunar cycle until the peak days there is a shield that will lower itself over the eyes. Something about my honesty makes me taste like lipstick and the iron in my blood.
 I am constantly in a state of presentation because I am striving for a presentation. 
Should I be so surprised when I support barely heartedly day after day neuroscience which I love for only two reasons:
I know how it can be improved upon, and it makes me feel like I haven’t been that brain damage in high school because I’m capable of understanding my brain damage in high school.
I do not want to compensate for my dazed flachelent attention span;  self medicated with hallucinogens, masters degrees, and phone numbers.
That leaves me alone, uneducated, and sober.
Motives are what we make them.  This is why LSD is an extremely important drug.
Subjectivity is part of an external reality.  Sweat lodges are a crucial component of realistic and empathetic self reflection.
Self help books are the devil. Because they externalize the struggle.
I am not a self help book. I am not a self help book.  Just chant that three times, and you can truly be yourself. 
I am constantly in a state of presentation because I am striving for a presentation.
The writers mind drifts between the page and her readers, drifts to their awareness of his wonderings, and then finally admits them and falters beneath her own egocentric diologue, holding on to his sanity by the string of assurance that self awareness grants her.
I am striving for being in the being of being.
Seeing everymoment in every other moment. 
People hallucnagens and exploratory journeys through the history of abstraction and molecular wonder.
That’s just not what happens though.  I sit down and look at flash cards and the information slowly siddles into my mind.  I weep. I weep. I weep.
I was happy that time I exercised.
Now my sentencenes just keep getting shorter.
The I me my more numerous.
The melancholy satire more convoluted and reflective of a generation that could find the middle of nowhere on their GPS.
Hypocracy is inevitable.