Ellcrys все записи автора We went outside for a little walk in the night air,  and while walking down the street I  got a  repeat  of that  first  insight.  I had  the feeling that instead walking down a real street,  I felt  as  if there was a big spherical screen all around me, with an  image of the street projected onto it,  and that as I walked  the image changed, expanding out in front of me and collapsing back down again  behind me.  I could look up and see an image of the sky, look down and see my feet pushing the  sidewalk backwards.  I  was stationary, it  was the image  of the street   that  was  moving.  Of course  when you  think about it, this perceptual  'distortion'  is  actually  more  real than   the 'normal' perception.  My brain, comfortably enthroned in my skull feels nothing of  the   outside  world except through    the  pattern of activity it receives from the senses.  It receives images, sounds, sensations, and pastes each one    in   its proper   place  on a  sensory  sphere that represents  the world around   me.  My perceptual  distortion was that instead  of seeing the  outside world,  I was  now seeing this sensory sphere, with a   sensory image of  the world   on it.  To  me  this an extremely interesting and exciting  insight  that I will  remember for the rest of my life.

I would see strangers approach along  the sidewalk, at first appearing as a little insignificant dot near the  expanding  focus of my sphere. They would grow and grow until I could see them in great detail before they passed behind and shrank back down to nothing.  It was as if each of us posessed  his own sensory   sphere, and  as  we  approached  the spheres would intersect, and I would appear in his sensory world as he appeared in mine.  We played a  little ritualistic game as  we passed, each in turn taking a good look at  the other, then  politely averting their eyes to allow the other to return the visual examination without making  direct eye contact, before hurrying   on  down the street.  It brought to mind an image of dogs presenting themselves in turn for the other to get a good sniff.

We stopped at MacDonalds to get a bite to eat, and never did a big mac taste so good, although it seemed to take an hour to consume it, and I was a  little  concerned that  the other  customers might  notice  the enormous effort I was expending in getting it  down.  I could  feel my tongue and cheeks maneuvering the  lumps  of food into position on  my molars, a few good chomps, then it was pushed down  the chute where my esophagus began  an elaborate sequence of peristaltic  contractions to persuade it down to  my  stomach.  I looked  up at my   friend between mouthfuls, and his  face  looked  so weird,  it  is hard to  describe. Although visually he looked exactly as  he always does, I would become aware of individual components of  his face,  his nose, his cheek, his eyes, which would trigger a  strong response  to my senses independant of the rest  of the face, so that  the impression was  somewhat like a cubist painting.

We attempted a few mathematical  exercises and found  that although we were fundamentally capable, it was difficult to remember which part of the problem you  were working on,  or to hold interim results  in your head.  While walking around town I had  found it extremely challenging to  navigate around the  familiar  streets of  my neighborhood  for  a similar  reason; although I  could plan a  course,  I had some trouble remembering which  part of the course we  were actually on.   We  were never in danger of actually getting  lost, but we  did spend some time discussing where we were  and how  to  proceed.  It  was  a  wonderful sensation like exploring  a  fabled town that you  have read about but have never actually visited before.

As the hours rolled on by we spent the time  playing with a slinky and one of those electrostatic lightning machines, blissfully  absorbed in such   simple  pursuits like  two   children  playing  with toys.  Our conversation  disintegrated to short  meaningless  sentences.  I would say something like "The  quality of  light is  an etherial essence" to which  he  might   respond   "But the meaning    of existance  is  not comprehensive" and I would reply "Yes but it is if you want it to be", and it would go on like  this, knowing that  he  had no idea of what I had meant, which didn't matter at all, since I didn't know myself what I had   meant.  Often we  would just  break into  paroxisms  of mirth, laughing and laughing until our stomachs hurt and  the tears flowed in rivers down our cheeks.  At one point  I noticed a luminescent glow on the slinky that I could not account for.   I  told him breathlessly of my discovery, thinking it was a new form of  mysterious  energy,  on a par with Newtons discovery of gravitation, and it took us at least ten minutes to discover  that it was only  the reflection of the lightning machine, which triggered another bout of helpless mirth.