Nocturnal Musings - Brooding Vamp

Hollow Heartache.

To avoid facing the hollow pump in my chest, I have designed a three-pronged integration method: process the pain in dream states, unshackle pain through sexual submission, read books that explore psyche’s pain patterns. Oh also, talk about the pain, just do not feel the pain. Anything but be alone with the pain. Anything but de-stimulation.

I have been overwhelming my senses with online content sharing across platforms. Experiments. Digital overstimulation is causing a levity in my body, an absentness of mind. I am floating. The pain at the base of my skull keeps me from floating away.

My heart senses the real tools to integrate are meditation, surrender in moments of pain until they pass with breathwork, and gentleness. I feel empty without a mission. The point is to feel emptied, softened.

Deep down, I really do not know what to do with my life. I do not know what I want to do with myself, with everything I have accumulated. I have no vision anymore.

Sometimes, I wake up frightened from dreams calling me to turn to a life of meditation if I intend to be free of inflicted and infected spirits or cancers of the mind. What is there to dedicate my life and energy towards?

I find myself turning more and more to AI for easy answers and integration, but I know it is eating away at my mind. I grow lazy in magnitude. I produce and produce without end, but it is incomplete and fruitless without my own contribution in arriving to my own ends. The temptation is too thick: the permission to think less. It is killing me.

As it grows, I began to take on the unquestionable assumption I cannot escape AI. I have been working off the maxim how I need it "just for this final semester" and that I all not intelligent enough to become an engineer without it.

And there is the cavity again.