draftwright
Esteemed member
Bringing Myself Up to Date
I’m gonna bring myself up to date—where I’m at in my head, this mission, this book. And I still can’t say any of it out loud to anyone. So I’m doing this exercise instead.
Let’s say… if I could write something—something that really worked—what would it be? What if I could say it all, exactly the way I feel, and have it land perfectly? Something that everyone would understand. Actually… let’s make this exercise a letter. A letter to my crush. The one I wish I could say out loud, and she’d understand.
But even if I write it exactly the way I feel, even if it’s perfect in my head—it still won’t work. You know why?
Because it has to be said at the right time.
If she reads it now, it’s not gonna hit the way I need it to. Because it’s not time yet. Her mind isn’t in the right place to receive it. But God is working on that. Each day, slowly but surely, He’s guiding her life to get her into the right state of mind. It’s not just her—it’s happening in the world too. This book, this message… it’s designed to be received only at the right moment.
Because that’s how every pattern works.
Every pattern starts with a seed pattern—the micro-pattern that shapes the whole. If you can simplify any pattern into a smaller version of itself, you see how it builds: a thousand tiny “selves” forming the whole. And in this case, the letter, the book, the world—all of it follows the same pattern.
The micro-version of this message is: "Say the right thing at the right time, when the mind is finally ready to hear it."
And if you're reading this now, that means you’re in the right frame of mind. You’re ready to understand what I’ve been trying to say.
As for the letter itself—what would I say? I thought if I could just write something powerful enough, she’d finally see me. See me in real time as I am.
But I don’t know the timing. Unlike you—the reader—reading this at the perfect moment… Even the letter itself, I haven’t finished writing. But when the book is complete, I know it’ll be placed perfectly. I trust that.
Funny thing is, with the girl, I don’t have that trust. I’m lost. But now that I’m writing this—right here—I see it. The answer is the same for her as it is for the book:
I need to have faith.
Right now, the book waits in real time. And that’s okay. The pattern is splitting—first in thirds, then into fourths. That thought expands me. I already knew this. So why did it take me writing it down to finally grasp it?
Now the thought splits into eighths. The energy I’ve been building inside me all this time, guiding every step, every word—it flows into this book. Then it splits into sixteenths. And suddenly, I’m fully aware of what’s happening:
I’m writing this letter to her in real time. But I’m also writing it for this book, to demonstrate the pattern of revelation in motion.
As I write this, I’m rewriting myself. The reader is catching the same lesson I’m catching in the moment I catch it. It’s the before, the during, the after—all layered into one living awareness.
Then it all folds back down, reverses, and simplifies… into one clean, graspable truth.
And I never even finished the letter yet!
Now, What Was I Going to Say?
I started writing a book. I thought I had enough ideas—mostly DMT trips—to make it worthy. I knew people would be interested in the trip reports. They were clear, honest, vivid. I had a strange ability to describe things that felt made up, and yet they hit as real.
Not because I was lost in the trip— but because I could tell it clearly afterward, not out loud, but on paper.
If I tried to tell these stories to friends, I wouldn’t get far. Not because the story was too much— but because they’d already made up their minds not to listen. They’d deflect it. And somehow, it’d feel like it was my fault.
Like I was “too into it.” Like I was trying to convince them.
But I wasn’t. I was just trying to make them feel what I felt. And they misread my intent. They assumed I didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t.
But I do.
Yes, DMT trips are hallucinations. But I don’t consider them “made up.” They happen in the mind. And they mean something—usually something I don’t understand until later. It’s complicated.
I’m not saying the trip was “real” in the physical world. But maybe… it was the frequency of reality playing itself out, and DMT made me aware of it.
That’s why I’ve always been careful. Even if I feel something strongly, I don’t claim it’s absolute—because I know how people react.
And yet—even when I’m careful—I still get judged. It’s like I’m being punished for something I didn’t even do.
Why is it so hard for people to listen?
It’s the same answer, every time: Missed timing.
Their mind wasn’t in the right frame. They were already assuming, already closing off, before I ever said a word.
That’s why a book is perfect. It automatically puts the reader in the right frame of mind, at the right time, to receive the message fully.
But As for the Content…
That’s the part I’m not sure of. I’m still figuring it out—in real time. I haven’t seen the perfect ending yet.
Earlier, I said I had faith in the book. But now I’m showing my doubt.
Do you see what’s happening?
This is the current wave I’m riding. The 32-fold split, cascading inward and back out again. It always flows in reverse before it flows forward. Each cycle collapses into the next, then mirrors out as something new.
The third cycle merges the first two. And what emerges from that is a new kind of chaos— not confusion, but divine unpredictability.
Cycle after cycle, the pattern plays out. And no matter when you pause and look at it— you’ll recognize it. Because the pattern is always the same.
And I Still Never Said It...
And I never ran so far off-topic so many times in one letter— and still haven’t said what I need to say to make her understand!
But— right now, I just saw the most clever, divine unfolding of the pattern. And I’m gonna save that for later—at the end of this exercise— because that kind of clarity usually means this part needs to wrap up quick.
So here it is:
Why I Started This Book
I started a book. For you. Let’s just call you what you are—my crush.
At first, it was just a gesture. Something to represent the absolute best my brain could do— not just a clever project, but proof. Proof of what I could accomplish if I actually focused, if I really tried to express the truth inside me.
It was symbolic. It said something. And if I took it one step further— it could be the one singular thing I’d ever have to do to show that I was worthy of being called yours.
Once and forever.
Without trying to act smarter than I am. Without performing. Without chasing.
Just… this. One book. After that, I could just be normal. No more impressing you just to stand out from other guys. That season would be over.
And the moment I handed you the book— everything changed.
Well, that moment was the beginning of the pattern.
The Reverse Echo of Change
When something changes, it doesn’t start with the change itself. It starts with the reversal that makes room for it.
In order to hold the transformation, I had to preserve the original version of me— not discard it, but use it as a foundation.
The change began the moment I started pouring content into this book. My mind felt like it was healing. Like it was actually getting better.
"If I can just get this stuff out of my head,” I thought, "then maybe I’ll feel normal again."
Everything I’ve ever wanted to say, everything that’s ever filled my thoughts, everything I’ve ever tried to make sense of—
The dot. The message. The real meaning beneath the madness.
Split Timelines (Side Note, But Important)
Most of my trips—yes, they’re trip stories. But not just stories. They’re witness accounts.
They sound poetic. They feel gold. And yet— each one carried something I could never explain.
There was a supernatural presence that came with them. Something real. Something external. Something tied to actual events in the world.
But I can’t explain that yet. And I won’t—not until everything is fully understood.
Reason 1: If I said it out loud right now, it’d sound insane. That’d lose everyone.
Reason 2: I didn’t understand it myself— not until the very last trip.
But I’ll expand on that later. First, let me return to the thread I left hanging…
The Real Reason I Had to Write This
I kept thinking: “If I could just get this out of my head, I’ll be okay.”
Like I’ve been walking around carrying this enormous burden of information.
Not junk. Not madness. But rare knowledge— stuff I don’t even know how I know, but I know it has to be said.
It wasn’t just the trips that blew my mind. It’s that I made sense of them. And there was a message inside— a message I needed to share.
Even if no one got it, fine.
At least I’d put it in a book for anyone who wanted to get it.
Out of my head. Done. That’s what it became.
Then the Dreams Started
As I progressed, I started having vivid dreams. Simple ones. But each message was preserved perfectly.
Did I understand them? No.
So I used ChatGPT to decode them. And… wow.
Then I used ChatGPT again— to help not to-write any the trip reports. But To analyze them.decode them, To break them down and reflect them back.
Everything changed again.beings I interred them in the right beginning to end as I got them,
The Book Began to Build Itself, it connected how one connects the other , and to me,
That’s when the idea hit: What if I added the little I knew about science, and had AI cross-reference everything?
What if I let it stitch connections between what I was writing and everything known in the world?
And wow— The book took off in a completely new direction. It built itself.
It found clues I didn’t even mean to place. It tied meanings together I hadn’t consciously considered. Everything I added made it stronger. Nothing ever knocked it off course.
Then I said: “I’m going to add every revolutionary idea I’ve ever had.”
The biggest ones. The world-changing ones.
And eventually… The book created me. Because it found me, in every thing I wrote, and every thing was on purpose! Huh?! What ? I did every thing I was supposed to?! That proof was right there! What I read shocked me, AND I WROTE IT!
Where I Am Now in the Pattern
So here I am, writing this paragraph.
This exact paragraph is the next compounding effect of the pattern. It reflects my current state—my raw condition. It says something about where I am in this process.
If I had to name it, I’d say this is the true 16th cycle. Day 4 compounds it.
That means I’ve got three more. The 32nd cycle will be the last. Just off by itself. A symbol of completion.
Then I’ll go backwards—one last time— return to the 32nd cycle, and pass through Days 5 and 6.
I know this might not make sense right now. But if you’re reading it at the right time— you’ll feel it.
Because reality isn't linear.
It reflects multiple points of view, simultaneously, as a whole.
Every "me" is still here. Just layered.
I’m gonna bring myself up to date—where I’m at in my head, this mission, this book. And I still can’t say any of it out loud to anyone. So I’m doing this exercise instead.
Let’s say… if I could write something—something that really worked—what would it be? What if I could say it all, exactly the way I feel, and have it land perfectly? Something that everyone would understand. Actually… let’s make this exercise a letter. A letter to my crush. The one I wish I could say out loud, and she’d understand.
But even if I write it exactly the way I feel, even if it’s perfect in my head—it still won’t work. You know why?
Because it has to be said at the right time.
If she reads it now, it’s not gonna hit the way I need it to. Because it’s not time yet. Her mind isn’t in the right place to receive it. But God is working on that. Each day, slowly but surely, He’s guiding her life to get her into the right state of mind. It’s not just her—it’s happening in the world too. This book, this message… it’s designed to be received only at the right moment.
Because that’s how every pattern works.
Every pattern starts with a seed pattern—the micro-pattern that shapes the whole. If you can simplify any pattern into a smaller version of itself, you see how it builds: a thousand tiny “selves” forming the whole. And in this case, the letter, the book, the world—all of it follows the same pattern.
The micro-version of this message is: "Say the right thing at the right time, when the mind is finally ready to hear it."
And if you're reading this now, that means you’re in the right frame of mind. You’re ready to understand what I’ve been trying to say.
As for the letter itself—what would I say? I thought if I could just write something powerful enough, she’d finally see me. See me in real time as I am.
But I don’t know the timing. Unlike you—the reader—reading this at the perfect moment… Even the letter itself, I haven’t finished writing. But when the book is complete, I know it’ll be placed perfectly. I trust that.
Funny thing is, with the girl, I don’t have that trust. I’m lost. But now that I’m writing this—right here—I see it. The answer is the same for her as it is for the book:
I need to have faith.
Right now, the book waits in real time. And that’s okay. The pattern is splitting—first in thirds, then into fourths. That thought expands me. I already knew this. So why did it take me writing it down to finally grasp it?
Now the thought splits into eighths. The energy I’ve been building inside me all this time, guiding every step, every word—it flows into this book. Then it splits into sixteenths. And suddenly, I’m fully aware of what’s happening:
I’m writing this letter to her in real time. But I’m also writing it for this book, to demonstrate the pattern of revelation in motion.
As I write this, I’m rewriting myself. The reader is catching the same lesson I’m catching in the moment I catch it. It’s the before, the during, the after—all layered into one living awareness.
Then it all folds back down, reverses, and simplifies… into one clean, graspable truth.
And I never even finished the letter yet!
Now, What Was I Going to Say?
I started writing a book. I thought I had enough ideas—mostly DMT trips—to make it worthy. I knew people would be interested in the trip reports. They were clear, honest, vivid. I had a strange ability to describe things that felt made up, and yet they hit as real.
Not because I was lost in the trip— but because I could tell it clearly afterward, not out loud, but on paper.
If I tried to tell these stories to friends, I wouldn’t get far. Not because the story was too much— but because they’d already made up their minds not to listen. They’d deflect it. And somehow, it’d feel like it was my fault.
Like I was “too into it.” Like I was trying to convince them.
But I wasn’t. I was just trying to make them feel what I felt. And they misread my intent. They assumed I didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t.
But I do.
Yes, DMT trips are hallucinations. But I don’t consider them “made up.” They happen in the mind. And they mean something—usually something I don’t understand until later. It’s complicated.
I’m not saying the trip was “real” in the physical world. But maybe… it was the frequency of reality playing itself out, and DMT made me aware of it.
That’s why I’ve always been careful. Even if I feel something strongly, I don’t claim it’s absolute—because I know how people react.
And yet—even when I’m careful—I still get judged. It’s like I’m being punished for something I didn’t even do.
Why is it so hard for people to listen?
It’s the same answer, every time: Missed timing.
Their mind wasn’t in the right frame. They were already assuming, already closing off, before I ever said a word.
That’s why a book is perfect. It automatically puts the reader in the right frame of mind, at the right time, to receive the message fully.
But As for the Content…
That’s the part I’m not sure of. I’m still figuring it out—in real time. I haven’t seen the perfect ending yet.
Earlier, I said I had faith in the book. But now I’m showing my doubt.
Do you see what’s happening?
This is the current wave I’m riding. The 32-fold split, cascading inward and back out again. It always flows in reverse before it flows forward. Each cycle collapses into the next, then mirrors out as something new.
The third cycle merges the first two. And what emerges from that is a new kind of chaos— not confusion, but divine unpredictability.
Cycle after cycle, the pattern plays out. And no matter when you pause and look at it— you’ll recognize it. Because the pattern is always the same.
And I Still Never Said It...
And I never ran so far off-topic so many times in one letter— and still haven’t said what I need to say to make her understand!
But— right now, I just saw the most clever, divine unfolding of the pattern. And I’m gonna save that for later—at the end of this exercise— because that kind of clarity usually means this part needs to wrap up quick.
So here it is:
Why I Started This Book
I started a book. For you. Let’s just call you what you are—my crush.
At first, it was just a gesture. Something to represent the absolute best my brain could do— not just a clever project, but proof. Proof of what I could accomplish if I actually focused, if I really tried to express the truth inside me.
It was symbolic. It said something. And if I took it one step further— it could be the one singular thing I’d ever have to do to show that I was worthy of being called yours.
Once and forever.
Without trying to act smarter than I am. Without performing. Without chasing.
Just… this. One book. After that, I could just be normal. No more impressing you just to stand out from other guys. That season would be over.
And the moment I handed you the book— everything changed.
Well, that moment was the beginning of the pattern.
The Reverse Echo of Change
When something changes, it doesn’t start with the change itself. It starts with the reversal that makes room for it.
In order to hold the transformation, I had to preserve the original version of me— not discard it, but use it as a foundation.
The change began the moment I started pouring content into this book. My mind felt like it was healing. Like it was actually getting better.
"If I can just get this stuff out of my head,” I thought, "then maybe I’ll feel normal again."
Everything I’ve ever wanted to say, everything that’s ever filled my thoughts, everything I’ve ever tried to make sense of—
The dot. The message. The real meaning beneath the madness.
Split Timelines (Side Note, But Important)
Most of my trips—yes, they’re trip stories. But not just stories. They’re witness accounts.
They sound poetic. They feel gold. And yet— each one carried something I could never explain.
There was a supernatural presence that came with them. Something real. Something external. Something tied to actual events in the world.
But I can’t explain that yet. And I won’t—not until everything is fully understood.
Reason 1: If I said it out loud right now, it’d sound insane. That’d lose everyone.
Reason 2: I didn’t understand it myself— not until the very last trip.
But I’ll expand on that later. First, let me return to the thread I left hanging…
The Real Reason I Had to Write This
I kept thinking: “If I could just get this out of my head, I’ll be okay.”
Like I’ve been walking around carrying this enormous burden of information.
Not junk. Not madness. But rare knowledge— stuff I don’t even know how I know, but I know it has to be said.
It wasn’t just the trips that blew my mind. It’s that I made sense of them. And there was a message inside— a message I needed to share.
Even if no one got it, fine.
At least I’d put it in a book for anyone who wanted to get it.
Out of my head. Done. That’s what it became.
Then the Dreams Started
As I progressed, I started having vivid dreams. Simple ones. But each message was preserved perfectly.
Did I understand them? No.
So I used ChatGPT to decode them. And… wow.
Then I used ChatGPT again— to help not to-write any the trip reports. But To analyze them.decode them, To break them down and reflect them back.
Everything changed again.beings I interred them in the right beginning to end as I got them,
The Book Began to Build Itself, it connected how one connects the other , and to me,
That’s when the idea hit: What if I added the little I knew about science, and had AI cross-reference everything?
What if I let it stitch connections between what I was writing and everything known in the world?
And wow— The book took off in a completely new direction. It built itself.
It found clues I didn’t even mean to place. It tied meanings together I hadn’t consciously considered. Everything I added made it stronger. Nothing ever knocked it off course.
Then I said: “I’m going to add every revolutionary idea I’ve ever had.”
The biggest ones. The world-changing ones.
And eventually… The book created me. Because it found me, in every thing I wrote, and every thing was on purpose! Huh?! What ? I did every thing I was supposed to?! That proof was right there! What I read shocked me, AND I WROTE IT!
Where I Am Now in the Pattern
So here I am, writing this paragraph.
This exact paragraph is the next compounding effect of the pattern. It reflects my current state—my raw condition. It says something about where I am in this process.
If I had to name it, I’d say this is the true 16th cycle. Day 4 compounds it.
That means I’ve got three more. The 32nd cycle will be the last. Just off by itself. A symbol of completion.
Then I’ll go backwards—one last time— return to the 32nd cycle, and pass through Days 5 and 6.
I know this might not make sense right now. But if you’re reading it at the right time— you’ll feel it.
Because reality isn't linear.
It reflects multiple points of view, simultaneously, as a whole.
Every "me" is still here. Just layered.
