Transcending physical

Is there a beginning or end to knowing someone? What I believe is that we continuously percieve the objects of cognition, even if they are past events (memory), or future events (foresight and intuition by using hypotheses and probability). Have you ever known someone before you met them? Did you think it was marvellous, like you had accessed something from the past? Your mind makes things real. You can imagine situations and then come across them and feel like you are a prophet of your own experience, but really you are simply a good dreamer. There is no beginning, and no end to knowing someone who turns on deeper parts of your mind - youve always known them and you always will - if they transcend the boundaries of the physical.

memory

I wonder what memory is. What controls it, how events are either stored or accessed through time. Do we directly observe an instance in time when we recall a memory by accessing the past, or do we access a representation stored in our brain? There is evidence to suggest the latter is falsifiable. There is only theory supporting the former.

What is a memory? How do memories get lost? Do connections in the brain get destroyed? Is the pain from losing a loved one a result of connections in your brain breaking off? Another thing I find uncanny is how, in recalling certain memories, I am able to experience a non-consiously controlled physiological reaction. Does this give support to the former argument that memories are direct observations of the past? Or does it perhaps give support to the view that memories are merely representations in the brain and the brain is able to produce similar bodily reactions to the event, similar to those when it took place, when the memory is recalled?

I am a rhizome irreducible to one meaning.

Kanangra

One who has not seen it, felt it, heard it, nor smelt it, does not know its beauty.
The Deep is extremely deep, and when it is presented to your eyes, your soul yearns
to dive out into it.
I enter it's unknown, I feel alive. It's surreal, dream-like reality feels more real than anything else. I feel ruptured, upturned, doubt ripped apart as I revel in unfamiliarity with a serene kind of clarity.
But for the time, thick cloudy mist shrouds the great gorge, like a wall separating minds,
and it is hidden from me as I stand on the face of it alone, exposed.
I am prevented from seeing, from feeling, from knowing.


RTM
21/03/06