The Spell

It is possible that the mind may come unhinged by the same processes that are its origin. Consciously unaware that its habits, its desires, or its routines are etching imperceptible grooves breaking down the very system that was designed to bring ease. The solace earned by that particular consciousness carefully as it mediated between its own version of reason and insanity eventually reveal themselves as comfortable illusions -- although, even the realizations themselves diminish. Moments of inaction or rest act as narcotic seduction to the system while the anxiety caused by that facade of death counteracts the poison. All the while that mind--like every mind--is drowning in the wounds it has created.

The mind, being capable of stretching itself around simulacra of infinities, is so clever that simplicity of reason is often seen as beautiful. This is because it is not simple. The electrochemical storm that dreams itself into being is built on fundamentally different principles. Forgiving the quasi-teleological framework, the mind that has written this text, the minds that may read it, and all of the independently originated minds capable of its interpretation of experience stem from a system whose rules outshine the collective attempts of those minds to describe themselves.

Each mind seeks its own interpretation. Objective reality is irrelevant for even if it exists and pure materialistic reductionism is assumed, it is not the playground of the mind. Countless uncertainties driven by spastic dendrites in reaction to stimulus of every sort prohibit any sort of causal argument. At best, recognition to the correlational nature of this massively parallel system allows the more pragmatic view. Recursive nature combined with unique environmental factors pervade all but the most present facade of self. It is from this idea that the self sees its own action as willed action.

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