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The birth-throes of adulthood is alteration unto its/our own state, the formation and growth of neural connections straining our minds, the brain adapting to phenomena in space and time, deeming it experience. It is this process I reckon to be consciousness.

It was only after adolescence I could begin to understand qualia. During this period my brain was busy going through the teenage 'motions of neurochemical upheaval. My mind was far too young to understand what it intuitively grasped. Something was memorable, meaningless, its qualities stuck in mind. This was how I began to understand qualia, meaningless memories which I treasured beyond measure without knowing why, the essence of nostalgia.

During this time emotion was a mysterious thing I could only feel as coming from my own experiencing ego, not as something occurring between two animals which one alone can never understand (though the narcissist might dispute that). Take love, an attachment, certainly an altered-state, a modifier of behavior, the serotonergic system implicit in its proper function (and if we're lucky, some oxytocin).

We'll hold this for further discussion.
Now for something mildly intresting.

My introduction and use of psychoactives was typical if quite comprehensive (and of course it felt 'special', I still feel this). Fascinated by what substances could do to elicit qualia (though no doubt unable to elucidate this) I lost myself thoroughly, great attracted to the culture around them. This accompanying ethos I could not hope to comprehend took me in its stride. At first I had no reservations as to indulgence, which taught me a few hard lessons. Later I would catch a rare glimpse of this ethos in its motions, gleaming it on occasion.

These times gave rise to specific feeling, recreation followed by reading into the neuroscience brought about a knowledge of some sort. The neurochemicals represented what my experiences were founded upon but not what they were.
I knew them in theory and from practice upon my consciousness,
This knowledge stayed with me long after my 'research' had finished. I would recognise familiar mental sensations in occasional sober interactions, minor alterations in mind brought on by certain foodstuffs (or lack thereof).

What does this answer in relation to qualia?
It tells us that moments are qualitatively conditioned by the given physical constraints.
What power mind and/or brain have over each other remains to be seen, as does the will's constituents and how it comes into being. Does it boil down to binary, exponential subject-object distinctions giving rise to abstract properties? Answers to the question of meta-consciousness continue to elude us.

We hypothesize that the given conditioning can evoke
a certain magnitude of qualia. We assert that qualia exist
to the extent that belief does (and is) but that they are ascribed
to experience by presentation rather than representation.
Belief and desire are propositional whereas qualia are proponents thereof which feedback into behavior, belief and desire.

Tentatively, we suggest that qualia might be measured in term analogous to wave patterns and spectral density while individual quale might be respective to individual neuronal constructs within the neuroplastic structure of the brain.

In this way a given pathway corresponds to a certain experience/memory.
Corina  Mar 2012
feeling sad
Corina Mar 2012
everday you'll say it gets better
though it only gets worse
tomorrow is always a promise of live getting better
but when today arives, you still feel sad and num, and find yourself thinking it's no use.

feeling sad
and every day a little bit sadder but you don't know why
this was going to be the most perfect year yet
your body is aching and you feel betrayed
your soul's aching and i feel...
horriefied

but then everything turns num again
and i just stare in the distance and wish it was night, and nothing else but sleep was intresting
but today is day, and i know there are things that need attention
ignorance builds a bigger hell.

my favorite poems don't cheer me up any more
sad songs are made of just words
and not your ten degree room, but your soul feels cold
and i wish i had a place to be homesick to.
Ariel Taverner Apr 2014
Its an intresting thing
That she lies
Not to me
No
She would not lie to me
Simply because she
As a person
Is against any form of dishonesty
And that is why she completely believes that
She is
A stupid girl
An insignificant girl
A waste-of-space girl
A useless girl
But in reality she is the one I look to for inspiration
She is the one that makes me significant
She occupies the empty space in my heart
She is the most amazing person ever

I hope she knows that
To me
It is not just a silly goodnight note
It is what makes me sleep
It is not an unimportant rambling
It helps me love
It is not a pointless letter
It is what I keep close to my heart
It is not an unnecessary reminder
It is necessary for my vitality

And I hope that she knows that
She makes me feel like an amazing person
That she makes me feel like a monumental person
That she finally makes me feel adequate That she makes me feel valued

So that is why it is intresting in the most grotesque way that she lies to herself
And I hope that she knows that she does lie to herself
Yes, you are ugly
containing a thousand thing
I refuse to understand
and continue to hate.

But for millions of grey
and faceless people
who constantly lie.
There is a silly beautiful few
So intresting and felling and dear.
Those, who will understand me and hear.

And for six month of starving
and nearly giving up my life.
There are free month of waiting
so sweet as I know what is next
And there are three months of living
When the luck is the law.

So I still love you, my dear world
And the only thing I ask you
Is to call the odds in my favor
So I could try living one more time.
Sydney Ann Nov 2015
Dreams of life outside the confines
Little Wisps of hope swirl angry
My world is books and worlds and minds
When souls do starve, minds are hungry.
Intresting
Ignis  Mar 2017
A New Soul
Ignis Mar 2017
In my late night wanderings
On the endless virtual plane
I met a new soul

What a soul indeed
Whose words captured meanings
Akin to a vice

Who noticed the small things
Observations
That I didn't expect

It seemed to me
A delightful fellow
With intresting experience

The conversation flowed smooth
I left happy
I wish the same for them

What a new soul
A breath of fresh air
Simply nice
Everything is better with you
Movies are more intresting
Music has meaning
And even my tears
Are just a little sweeter

With you,
Life feels good,
It feels like I'm living

I love you
Maybe I always have
Or maybe I just
Keep falling in love with you
Over and over again

Either way it is the most
Painfully beautiful feeling.
Joi Lindsay Dec 2015
W=WONDERFUL
E= EXCITING
I= INTRESTING
R=REAL
D= DIFFERENT
          
For all them haters out there who call people weird and a nerd!

N= NEW
E= EXCELLENT
R= ROYAL
D= DETERMINED
Y=  YOUNGER AND MORE TERRIFIC THAN YOU
How intresting that the word insanity
Is made of, in and sanity
Yet to be it you but be out of sanity
Jenny Gordon Apr 2019
Oh, to be certain, she* was dead serious.  



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCLXXVII)


Quoth she, "...THIS fashion plate." to, smiling, scale
Me lo, from pink headband to tall boots' dense
Black, like the comment she was stylish thence
Was--what? to MY attire?!  and whither?  pale
As friends and kindness, poor attempts t'avail
Myself of being half stylish, all's pretense?
So guys stop talking when I pass, a sense
Of turning heads mine for too long sans bail.
I'm "never good enough." Or what is't, fer
All that?  What am I chasing?  Wherefore do
NonChristians seem...is't kinder?  Why in poor
'Scuse did the church um, ladies, tell me two
Times that:  "your outfits are [for aught as twere]
E'er intresting."?!  Laugh.  Tell me what is true?

13Apr19c
I've been turning men's heads for 20 years, to no avail.
*Church ladies from another church concurred with her assessment, ergo, what's with the ladies I did hobnob with, eh?!  Envy?
Antonina Dutchak Sep 2016
You are no longer mine.
The heart beats slower.
If see you, I'll pass by,
My head I'll lower.

What's your name again?
Your image eyes forgot.
Those, who weren't in pain
Never loved.

I don't cry, don't weep
Honestly, I never did.
The heart cannot forgive
The one who made it bleed.

Sometimes I think of...
Love...Intresting thing.
Everyone lives to love,
I loved to live.

I love you no more.
Bye, beloved, bye.
I wait no longer for...
I'll say nothing at your "Hi".

But now, see, I can't...
I'm fine, just...
No longer, my friend
I'm able to trust.

I locked myself in a chamber
Holding a bottle to whet.
All write to remember,
I write to forget
Baby Sagwal  Jun 2014
Untitled
Baby Sagwal Jun 2014
THROUGH HAPPINESS
MY EYES WERE SHINING
MY FACE WAS GRINNING
I HAD  FEELING THAT I NEVER HAVE
WHICH
WITH FLASHLIGHT ME WAS  DRESSED
I HAD  A FEELING
THAT I WAS FLYING
WITH SADNESS I WAS NOT DYING
I SHOULD HAVE THAT FEELING
BECAUSE THATS SO INTRESTING

— The End —