Well, this feeling of mild nausea, lightheadedness and weakness, like i needed to eat something, and, also, this depression, probably had something to do with the fact that I had recently gone from taking 40mg of Latuda to 80 mg of Latuda and, according to AI, that wasn’t uncommon, and, in many cases, the symptoms go away. At least when it came to the nausea and the lightheadedness. So i think several things were happening—that the amount of Dr. Pepper I was drinking had become a little excessive, and that, at this time, I am drinking less, and then there was this general feeling of disgust when it came to the level of degradation that I needed to apply in order to feel desire. So today I’d refused to ask myself, what will make me feel desire today? Because I think i was scraping the bottom of the barrel—yes, I might have been able to achieve an erection, but doing something with it was, at this time, an entirely different matter.
You can have me if you want me now, i had to ask myself—who said that? Anna or Ursula? Didn’t they overlap, in my mind? How was I supposed to tell the difference? I concluded that whatever I heard came from both of them—so that meant that, when they didn’t overlap, I was missing out on some things; but it occurred to me, too, that, if i was speaking solely to the one and not the other, then I would get a feeling or a thought that told me, intuitively, that that was the case. Perhaps there were slight changes in the voice that I heard that were too slight for me to consciously discern. But I figured, yeah, the Norway blond situation didn’t exactly work out because, although I could reproduce a voice—vaguely, there was no viable person to apply that voice too—some candidate, then, that I might desire.
So who said the above? I imagined that they both said it—and that, when they said it, it was coming from slightly different places. But that was going to piss Anna off, and it made me look conceited, too—it didn’t look good. So I changed my mind—Anna alone did not say that—but this combination of the two did. So what was Ursula saying? Was I picking up on her reading this, and thinking, yes, that is me, I am meant to be with him? Maybe she was wondering if she was really my Ursula, and she was just putting that out there—that, I think, was what was really happening. Anna wasn’t dumping her boyfriend, and, frankly, our relationship had changed. I simply wasn’t attracted enough to imagine that, in however many years, she was right for me. At least, at this time, that was the case. I’m not saying we’d never develop a real relationship, in which case things could change, but I imagined that I was connected to my Ursula right now, and, therefore, if Anna didn’t make me feel high, then it seemed: they can’t be the same person.
So if i was talking to Anna I was talking to someone that had changed, somehow—someone a little more from the future, someone, i think, that lived alone. I concluded then—I am not talking to the present day Anna—the person that said, “You can have me if you want me,” was not Anna in the present, and, given my experience, of late, I doubted that it was Anna from the future. I imagined, instead, that Ursula alone said this, and, frankly, I imagined she was familiar to me—that she had blond hair and blue eyes—or, at least, she used to have blond hair. Maybe she dyed it now, maybe she didn’t, but her hair, at least, didn’t look any darker than mine. that’s right, I am her. What? but, upon posing the question, i got the sense that, in that case, I was talking to Ursula—i wasn’t talking to the present day Anna, who, I decided, wouldn’t be saying inviting things to me, because, is she did, then that would mean her relationship wasn’t working, and, given her weight gain, well, I think she was getting fat and happy—not skinny and restless, looking, in agony, for someone to love.
now we’re on to something that, i interpreted, came from both of them in the places where they overlapped. I imagined, then, that my relationship with Anna was likely to improve now that i’d given up on this notion that she’s meant to leave her fiancé. I think the present day Anna, hereto Anna in general, might’ve been a little let down that she wasn’t the center of my and therefore everybody’s universe, since, in a sense, she was facing a modicum of rejection (i’m sure she would not admit that this bothered her, just as I am sure that, in fact, it did) but in the long run the relationship would be more realistic. Something that could be meaningful and connect me better—on a better frequency, to the future.
But this depression—it wasn’t severe, but it was real—i didn’t feel like myself—was, excuse my French, a bitch. I think it had something to do with getting a little bogged down by the Riemann hypothesis—I wasn’t exactly getting real time results that would boost my faith and develop my philosophy. I wasn’t exactly doing physics. I was pretty much doing pure math—which was important to what I wanted to do with the Riemann hypothesis, i.e., study and elaborate on possible connections between this life and the next. I mean lets face it, I was on my fourth math book about all this, and I still had an entire physics book to revise and publish, which wasn’t going to happen any time soon, since i needed my limited mathematical energies (per day) to focus on my math book series. I just wasn’t getting a lot of real time encouragement, especially because the math was so absolutely dense.
But was I doing anything wrong? Should I change course? No, I don’t think so. Hence the feeling of being weighed down in a slightly hopeless way. I didn’t know exactly when I was going to have a breakthrough—when i would make some real time advancement—i was learning things every day, but they didn’t relate to “heaven” as much as I would’ve liked. So no, there was nothing i could do to change how i was feeling. I was already on the right track. Hence the only thing left to do was wait it out—hope that the medication change side effects were real and would mitigate—that this wasn’t all because of the Riemann hypothesis—and that, well, redefining my relationship with Anna—which meant giving up on forcing something that wasn’t working, would correct the problem—i was, in effect, falling out of love, so to speak. It was only natural that i would feel a little dejected, as, well, i might’ve hoped and believed that i was that much closer to total happiness, when, in fact, the truth is far my abstract.