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Splitting Headache

Jan 6, 2017 • Emanate Hieromech#emanatehieromech • Rating: yellow • Contains explicit language, implied BDSM

Personal log of Blue527#Prime/Triune, pre-Split.

I knew this was going to be a difficult prospect. Surely, I’d told myself, plenty of others had this problem–I couldn’t have been the first in the entire history of uploading. I considered it likely that most of them had ended up becoming Dispersionistas, but that method wasn’t satisfying enough for me. I needed even stranger methods, one that might as well be considered a new way to fork.

I’ll step back a moment, establish some context. No boring details, just the important stuff: recent upload, only just got the funds to do so. Even while embodied, I’ve known for a long time that I have more than one person inside my head–at least, inside for now. The phenomena has gone by many names over the years: MPD, DID, Systems, Plurals. I don’t consider it to impair my life at all, or be a disorder by any means. Most of the time you couldn’t tell the difference just from meeting me, since the different internal people present externally as an individual, a gestalt or consensus of the main three. We work out our problems together, and sometimes one of them might fully take control of the body, an easy shift called ‘fronting’.

But now I’m uploaded, and there’s a problem. The headpeople know about this whole forking system–and they want out.

Here’s the problem: I could easily fork two or more times, and let each instance sort out who gets full rights to front. However, that leads to simply three copies of myself warring internally, which isn’t any different from now. No one instance would want to suppress or silence or offload the other two personas inside of them, any more than I would. Exocortices aren’t an option. I need a clean separation in fork methods, but in all the research I’ve done so far, that doesn’t seem to exist.

I follow Dear’s art series quite avidly, even went to the recent gallery exhibition. The work commenting on the different kinds of forking was interesting, if a bit simplistic, and I immediately contacted one of Dear’s instances for further exploration. Some of its earlier work actually came close to what I want to do, and it sounds like one of its Clade would be willing to facilitate this endeavor.

I am recording this here because what I intend will ideally result in three–or perhaps more–distinct people as different instances. I’m keeping a backup, of course–I’m not willing to risk my entire existence on this, but I hope the backup will never be needed. I don’t want to be three people struggling to get along. I want to, well, make out with myselves, if they wish to; or wave a sad farewell if they decide to go their own way once free of my head. I don’t know which is more likely.

What I propose sounds simple, but there’s potential for a full crash, because it’s actually more akin to brain surgery. The reverse of a experiential cherry-picking merge: selecting memories and experiences that most closely hew to one persona or another, and sifting them into a single partition–deleting them from the central host at the same time. Doing the same for the other two, collating and merging those bits and pieces into distinct individuals. It might take several merge cycles for each, but in essence I’ll be paring down my mind into three parts that can then act and become their own people. There won’t be anything left of the Triune.

If anyone is reading this after the fact, and my forking method happens to work and get outside interest, do feel free to call it Devisionist.

I have a meeting with the Ode Clade tomorrow morning.

This has to be done, and soon. I’m not scared.


Personal log of Blue527#canaryoutletlightswitch/toy, post-Split.

i’m scared.

i didn’t know alone in my head was so scary. no comfort of other ones taking care of me, keeping watch. i liked being a part of them. this world is so loud and bright and confusing. i can’t block it all out. i forgot how. i think the other one remembers, they helped me sometimes, but that’s just not there anymore.

i help people, but i also get scared easily. like, a battery, charged and then not. charged i can help, be a good toy, make people happy and pleased and serve them any way i can. i like serving dragon. ve knows what ve likes, and i used to like the same things too. it’s confusing. before split, i knew all needed about others, and they were me. now lots of guessing, mixed signals, negotiation. i am good at that, but not good at it. it’s tiring, a lot more work.

when not charged i am not…functioning. blocking senses should be easy, but i always liked the imaginary analog method of gag, blindfold, earplugs. the world is too much and i cringe away from it, wanting only to be kept safe, put away from all of it. i am hiding behind the couch now because it reminds me of my cage. dragon used to put me in there to recharge me, but what i have now is…not good enough.

i guess dragon made choices verself usually. i am used to being the submissive one by consent. need to be told, always told, what to do to be good. i’m no child, am same age as dragon before split, but i’ve always been a bit more fragile. sensitive, dragon would say, but that used to be easy. not easy to decide for myself what to do. i had two watching over me: myself and myself. or now…dragon and bird. they were always that, but used to be me also. why did we want to be free?

it a decision that was made, and i helped to make it. i wanted to see how i would be. i know now, and it’s not great, but there is still the urge to serve. there is also…

what is this new thing? was that not removed? is it mine? a desire for another to serve me. it feels strong, like i could be strong in deciding to put someone else in my place. but who am i then? between these urges, can i push towards one or the other equally? i feel like i could. who would allow it? nobody would allow it. nobody would forbid it.

a thought comes from…me and not me, like it was before. this time, the voice is mine and also mine.

i can be free.

i can choose to be both.

i can be whole, alone.

i can be myself.

I can be Myself.

Dragon, I will keep the collar, but you can have the cage back.

I own myself now.


Personal log of Blue527#Bird/Fire, post-Split.

I own up to nothing. This is bullshit. It’s all gone to hell.

I’m pissed, and I don’t even have any way to express it. I could burst into flames if I wanted, but it’s flashy and inappropriate here. Should just build my own environment that I can burn the hell down any time I want. Dammit.

Excision was really not the best way to go about this. Yeah okay, I agreed with this at first, and it got me this far. But just… fuck. This still doesn’t feel right. Seriously I feel angry all the time now. Was I always this bad, just calmed by the other two? I don’t even want to think about it. Unexpected is an understatement. I’m missing two-thirds of me, and I can’t even point at the hole where they were. The cutting was too clean. I shouldn’t have gone along with it. I don’t even know who made the decision–shit, we all did.

Okay. I can do this. I can calm down. I can still the fires. Nobody is the enemy here. I can’t… I can control myself here. With what? Pretend the others are still there? That dragon is so infuriatingly lazy all the time, and the toy is just… well, nice in a way but too cringey. I’d rather it be more assertive sometimes.

Shit, did I get all of that? It’s not like we were really carving off personality traits but I guess a lot of those are determined differently than we thought. Memories and activated thought-paths and… hell, maybe I was just too angry during the Split. I was concentrated several times, like alchemy. Pure red rage rather than black or white.

Okay. The flames are going down slowly. I didn’t get all the way up to conflagration, though I could have. Think cold thoughts, slow down a bit. Think of ideas, fictions and worlds. That’s…fuck, this is a digital environment. I could build entire worlds here. I could learn to be an architect or whatever they might call it. I still have all of those ideas in here, and I don’t have that lazy-ass dragon weighing me down and stopping me from doing something with them.

I mean, no offense to you, if you’re reading this, but seriously, dude, you make hippies look like fucking stock market go-getters. Get off your ass and go DO SOMETHING. Stop whining about all the reasons you can’t, and doing the minimal effort instead.

Not just the world. Many worlds. I could make the wood between worlds. The starry expanse. The nexus of books. The lightning forest. All of these could be the same place, a way to connect to stories, other stories people might have created in here. There’s got to be many–I could…I could curate them! Hold a museum, a gateway to worlds of story.

I have so many ideas. I’m burning up with them. Every feather and every flame. Every star in my eyes. I can feel it, within me. I can do everything I ever wanted.

I can go so far.


Personal Account of Blue#Bolt/Dragon, post-Split

Well, I didn’t get very far.

We were all in the same place, well, virtually speaking at least. After the whole procedure, the toy took one look around and curled up behind the couch. The phoenix took one look at me, and stomped off into the other room. I can still hear them ranting from here–good thing I set the house to be fireproof beforehand.

I’m more worried about the toy, I guess. I…we…whatever the word is now, it’s complicated. We were always trying to protect it from everything. They got to come out of their little capsule when it was safe for us…for me to be vulnerable. Now I don’t even feel that much. Is that desire just completely cut away?

Eh. I guess I won’t miss it. I can do other things–get out and meet folks here. Attend more art exhibits, get some ideas for… eh, what am I thinking. I don’t know how to do anything here. I’d need to take some building classes, or maybe…fork myself to go study things? It seems dangerous to try and fork more right now. I’m already feeling a little unstable as it is, emotionally. But I can’t be mad at my Prime self–this is something I wanted, and at least I assumed the others wanted too. Actually, on second thought I can’t be mad at anything right now. And that’s troubling.

They don’t seem too happy with it now. I made a bad pun to the bird earlier and I could tell that was one of the reasons they stomped out. I can’t help it sometimes, I just blurt out terrible jokes and crap, even when they’re inappropriate for the time or place. I can’t help the wordplay–it’s just something I do reflexively. Heck, maybe I should get into standup comedy, if that’s a thing here. It’s got to be somewhere. But no, that’d be easier with forking myself, and I already figured that’d be bad right now. I’ll have to wait on that.

Okay, the toy just stood up, said something about a cage, and walked off. I didn’t quite catch the whole thing. That stride was odd, a lot more confident than I expected. Curious. Eh well.

I’ve got just enough energy to log these thoughts down. I could try and do some creative work, but I… don’t have any real ideas right now. Besides, that whole process was tiring. Can I just sleep any time I want? I think I read something about the house’s settings being able to change day/night cycles outside the fake windows.

I should really go check on the bird. Eh, I don’t feel like getting burned right now. I think for now I’ll just sit here and see what games are on the console.


Personal log of Blue527#Secundus/Monitor[Hidden], pre-Split fork.

Well. That was informative.

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