1.43pm Wednesday September 21st, 2022

I’m now sitting on the ferry from Coupeville to Port Townsend, my first recording since beginning my visionquest. As far as what I intend to achieve with this three or four day fast: clarity.

4.45pm Friday September 23rd, 2022

Upon breaking my fast early yesterday, I began to wonder what I was doing here in the first place, and then it occured to me that that was exactly what I came to to do! Let me explain.

(First off, let me establish that it is not wholly unrational that I would do something without knowing in the first place its full reason… )

I’ve known for some time my desire for time alone. Hell, I’ve been fantasizing for perhaps three years that I’d go live off on some mountain somewhere. As for what I would do when I got there, I had the faintest of ideas—other than perhaps building a house and perhaps venturing into some creative endeavor.

Sitting here in now in the Olympic peninsula, I spent my first day completely fasting while clamboring over here, on the ferry over the sound and up Blue Mountain. My experience here, on what I had then taken to be the initiation of some inspired “vision quest”–where one is meant to sit atop a mountain for over four days and four nights without any food or water—the goal of here being to conjure up some sort of inner knowledge in the form of a vision or encountering of one’s guardian spirit.

It didn’t take long for things to go south, as my fasting let led me to freeze when my metabolism stopped as well as to suffer overwhelming anxiety from the increased adrenaline. I woke up feeling fine and energized after six hours of sleep in a camp shelter I slept in but didn’t pay for.

But I was still skittish, because of all the people around and because I had already failed to follow my plan to sleep up there off the beaten path, literally on the side of the mountain (which was technically forbidden so long as you didn’t get caught). I then drove 90minutes clockwise around the peninsula into 

[and then I began to laugh as I climbed up into my hammock to continue writing, after becoming uncomfortable sitting typing on a log. I was soon to be overtaken by laughter after climbing into the hammock with my laptop because of how perfect the setup was—perfectly warm and cozy, perfect back support, and a tree perfectly positioned for me to swing myself while I type. 

1. I then fell in love with this setup and thought how to replicate it where I live
2. I noticed the phenomenology and phsyiology of this moment—the laughter, the tingling up my spine, the joy from things lining up so perfectly. I then determined to write about his phenomenon at a later time, since I’d experienced it so strongly before both with my deja vu as well as with the enjoying all the various rooms I’d designed
3. I then realized how much I was recursing with my current line of thought, and how non-linear my self-dialogue/thoughts can be. Surely I could implement some sort of process in Notion or Obsidian to optimally reap the benefits of this direction
4. Elon Musk. I really don’t think he knows what he’s doing with this starlink thing, and where it’s going. Surely, all of our devices will eventually connect straight to satellites; and surely, eventually the satellites will reach everywhere on earth. Why do we make the mistake of assuming access to information is such a great thing, without considering the effect it has on the brain: namely, in being so addictive as to have become obstrusive for at least a whole generation of our kind in the west.
]