So this happened to me. I rebuilt an old wooden sailboat and then moved aboard it. It was heading into a very cold winter by that time in 1982. I was still young and unmarried at 27. I'm 65 now as I write.
I had things on my mind. They had to do with fate and why I was experiencing so many meaningful coincidences; what Jung may have called synchronicities. I started writing in a notebook one cold and stormy night. I felt a kind of Eureka. I lost track of time.
My friend took me in and let me transcribe my notebook with his not-yet-on-the-market Cromemco computer, which had a simple word-processor. Word-Master? At some point after my Eureka, I started writing as though I had something to say.
Since that OS (CP-M?) went rapidly obsolete, I scanned a paper copy of the daisy-wheel printout and then posted the re-digitized document to this blog some time around 2009. Blogs had become a thing, and in 2008 when I was full of optimism for Obama, I thought maybe I should start a blog as a shortcut to "publishing." I knew that I was unlikely to learn to write well enough to be truly published.
It didn't start well. I lost my mind. Again. I've lost it twice that I know of, at long intervals. First, led to the writing catalogued below. I'm glad I was able to get it to people who cared about me before they enacted the emergency protocols some of them were apparently contemplating. The writing was my apology. It was hard work to get my mind back the second time. The writing has helped. It has also helped that nobody has been reading what I have been writing.
Between 1983 and 2008 I mostly forgot about this writing, being engaged in raising kids and doing very life-consuming work toward that end. Some of the work ended painfully. Some I enjoyed and even prospered by. But I had given up trying to get anyone to understand what I was writing and talking about. I did try again for a little while, and I still do drone on haphazardly in the same vein.
I have lived a very full and interesting life, and have no complaints on that score. I worry for my and our progeny.
Since my "revelation" occurred to me in the process of writing, I've thought it important to preserve the actual document. I've never been sure if what I experienced is communicable. I've tried again from time to time with little to no success. I think the revelation I had is important. I also think I must be too lazy and uncertain to do much about it.
Now it has taken me until 2021 to make what I wrote a tiny bit more accessible. I'm fine if I'm just nuts, and if I shall remain forever alone with what I think that I discovered. But I haven't been quite able to shake the "truth" of what I found.
I remain uncertain if this is such a good idea, but here you go: