I'm Beyond, I'm On The Edge, Or I'm A Stranger In This World

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I'm Beyond, I'm On The Edge, Or I'm A Stranger In This World
I'm Beyond, I'm On The Edge, Or I'm A Stranger In This World
Video: I'm Beyond, I'm On The Edge, Or I'm A Stranger In This World
Video: FM-84 - Running In The Night (feat. Ollie Wride) - [OFFICIAL MUSIC VIDEO] 2023, February

I'm beyond, I'm on the edge, or I'm a stranger in this world

Why would I wake up every vile purple morning jerking a heavy stone body out of bed? Looking for money that doesn't make me happy, or love that "ends my suffering"? Why have I been here for so long?

"Mom, I learned to fly in a dream, I flew out of my body!" - a keen sense of bliss overwhelming me, made me forget about caution. I immediately regretted it, but it was too late. The screeching voice of his mother pierced his ears like a red-hot needle. Climbing higher and higher, he switched to ultrasound and formed into the usual phrase: "Run to school, you little dumbass."

At school, the usual tiresome hum, bursting with outbursts of angry shouts from teachers. I am standing at the windowsill, and the world around me is visible as through a slightly curved lens. Everything is a little distant and a little blurry. For a few moments, like at night, I cease to feel my body. A hot flutter appears inside, a premonition of something very important and surprising.

A friendly push on the shoulder brings down on me the whole weight of school recess with a disgusting cacophony of sounds - I greedily gasp for air, it almost physically hurts.

“Why are you so pale! You stand there, eyes like a dead fish. Let's go catch up!"

I do not want to catch up, tag and jump ropes! I want to go home, hide in a closet, wrap myself in silence and darkness, like a blanket. There I can, with my eyes closed, sort out my thoughts and feelings, like a prospector sifting through tons of sand in search of a grain of gold. If I catch this elusive fragment, life will immediately become bright and understandable, and people around me will be close and dear.

I understand that I am a stranger here. My reasoning is too difficult for my classmates and causes laughter or dull misunderstanding. They simply do not know the meanings of many words, my topics of conversation for them, at least, strange. They whisper behind my back: "The nutcase went."

My mother sincerely considers me underdeveloped, because after reading it, I can forget to have lunch, and at the same time have dinner, or, thinking, go outside without a jacket. My questions about the structure of the world make her hysterical, and helplessness in everyday life is just fits of rage.

The vacuum coils around me in a tight cocoon, tighter and tighter. Everywhere I run into misunderstanding, bewilderment or contempt. I shut up, realizing that I was born in the wrong place or at the wrong time, and maybe even on the wrong planet.

“They told me that this road would lead me to the ocean of death, and halfway I turned back. Since then everything has been stretching in front of me crooked, deaf roundabout paths …”(Brothers Strugatsky. A billion years before the end of the world).

The transparent white leaves tremble, curl and turn black under the violent onslaught of the flame. The black pattern of my poems and thoughts disintegrates into separate squiggles and disappears in the stuffy smoke, losing its meaning. Losing the meaning I never found. I wandered all eighteen years of my life in a viscous fog of incomprehensibility and patterns, in search of the incomprehensible, desiring the strange. Today I deny, I am burning my secret, my dissimilarity from others, my “I”, which brings me so much suffering. Now I am an adult and begin to live like other people, in a clear and understandable world, equal among equals.

Where is the beginning of the end with which the beginning ends?

My calculation was justified: I mimicked and became my own. At the institute, the moderate use of obscene jokes, the skill of spitting dashingly through my teeth and buying alcohol "for everyone" turn me from a "crazy" into a "normal guy." And the tragically knitted eyebrows and languid gaze - into a sad knight, irresistible for the ladies. Mother sighs with emotion, glad that I have outgrown all sorts of childish nonsense. Only sometimes at night black cats-thoughts scratch my soul with their blunt claws, making me sad.

"What is the meaning of your life, brother?" - I ask the happiest-looking classmate over a glass of amber beer. “Of course, brother, in success, career and money. Money rules the world. When you have money, you are free and happy."

I, as an equal among equals, start to make good money, with my intellect it is not at all difficult. But for some reason there is no joy and happiness from owning a pack of colored paper. The day is similar to the previous one, like the imprint of a bad photocopier. The black hydra of insomnia is gradually beginning to loosen its tight rings. But I am not giving up, there are still many possibilities. I will change myself, and my dark thoughts - to positive ones.

People, people around with their own conversations and interests. I'm trying to understand what drives them, why they live. It cannot be that everyone is really only interested in money, sex and questionable pleasures.

And abruptly and inappropriately bursts forth inner despair, concentrated in one phrase, endlessly repeating in my buzzing head: “It's just a devouring and multiplying protoplasm! Is this all that I am destined to see for the rest of my disgustingly long life?"

The vacuum is thickening around me, it is almost tangible. Don't touch me - it's unbearable. I want to scream with despair, but a seal has been put on my lips, and another gray dreary evening goes on as usual.

I'm over the edge, I'm on the edge
I'm over the edge, I'm on the edge

Sometimes I allow myself innocent joy and turn on a disaster movie with good special effects. I get a strange pleasure from the frames of the collapsing houses. From such self-confident and happy puppets rushing about in panic and dying a minute earlier. My lips involuntarily whisper: "Lord, destroy us and create anew more perfect …"

Loneliness is becoming more and more attractive and desirable. I find it unbearable to travel on public transport, and the resource of communication with an underdeveloped human race has probably dried up.

Five of us are sitting and sighing about something, we are five of us boiling water for tea. We are five of us - we are alone in the universe. We are five of us. We sit - me and the walls.

Nice girl psychologist with chubby cheeks don't hide anything, I'm going crazy, right? Why is existence a heavy burden, why is the world so disgusting that I dream of complete solitude in a remote monastery? Who am I? Why am I here?

Her cheeks turn pink:

- You are cute and successful, you just do not have enough love and friends. Travel, change of sensations. Find a girl, and all the suffering will pass under the pressure of wonderful feelings.

- Girl, what do you know about suffering? Every second of my meaningless existence, I live in a hell that you cannot even imagine in your worst nightmares. Your life is a simple guitar chord and a couple of tears. Mine is like a worn out daguerreotype, where you can't make out the real image from any angle.

I guess I was a little harsh, but for a long time everything around me seemed to me two-dimensional, dusty and flat, like in a cheap computer game.

I feel not just a stranger, I feel superfluous in a world where everyone is happy, and I am filled with only a strange longing and suffering. I want to scream in despair, but a seal is imposed on my lips, and my secret pain continues to eat away at my soul.

The future is not bleak - it just doesn't exist

Why would I wake up every vile purple morning jerking a heavy stone body out of bed? Looking for money that doesn't make me happy, or love that "ends my suffering"? Why have I been here for so long? This bad joke took too long.

More and more often I stand on the balcony, smoking cigarettes one by one. The filter burns my fingers, and only this short pain distracts me from the inviting abyss of the sixteenth floor. With a sharp click, I throw the goby, counting the seconds of its flight. And the next … and the next …

The simplest questions are actually the hardest

- Who am I? How did I get here? - the little man asks his mother, and this is not idle curiosity, and this is not at all about the process of conception as such. This is formulated in thoughts and questions of the inner desire of a person with a sound vector - a vector, the properties of which will determine his worldview, path and destiny.

System-vector psychology of Yuri Burlan provides answers to the hidden questions of eight vectors that are inherent in people in different combinations. The set of innate desires and properties for their realization is the vector. The most difficult, endless, incomprehensible of all is the sound dominant vector.

Only five percent of the people on the planet - people with a sound vector - are born with a hypersensitive eardrum. A hearing capable of detecting a thousand shades of silence. Their ability for absolute concentration and abstract thinking serve as a tool for infinite knowledge of the world order and the meaning of life.

From childhood, they feel their dissimilarity from others, some kind of special exclusivity. And here, however, as in the upbringing of children with other vectors, the environment plays an important role. Screams, noise, constant scandals have a very painful effect on the sensitive hearing of a small sound person, knocking him out of inner concentration, forcing him to withdraw into himself, running away from a world filled with painful, distracting sounds.

Probably, if Edison's mother, after listening to the recommendations of school teachers, sent him to a school for the mentally ill, humanity would be left without sound recording, and progress would be postponed indefinitely. Every sound engineer is born in the potential of a genius, but not everyone can fully realize themselves among people.

I'm on the verge or I'm a stranger in this world
I'm on the verge or I'm a stranger in this world

To whom much is given, much will be demanded

The features of the sound vector take a person out of the material world, the area of ​​his interests lies in the sphere of the spiritual, the unknown. No money, travel and family joys can fill the sound vector, because its interests are outside the physical world. And the volume of sound desire is simply enormous, endless, like an endless sound wave, to the vibrations of which the sound engineer listens.

Not understanding his inner desires, not finding answers and meanings in the physical world, the sound engineer begins to concentrate all attention on himself, on his inner “I”, falling into extreme egocentrism. This is the most dangerous trap. It is impossible to find meanings inside, because inside a person is limited and only the world around is infinite. The entire volume of the psychic, directed inward, simply burns a person, turning his life into endless torture.

In such a situation, latent depression can last a lifetime, and the body and people around are perceived as a source of suffering. Only an abstract-thinking person with a sound vector sensually separates body and mind. The body seems to him small, insignificant and finite, and consciousness is eternal and infinite. Suicidal thoughts are a false hope to end the suffering of the spirit by destroying the physical shell. And just as it is impossible to extinguish a forest fire with a bucket of water, so it is impossible to fill the soul of a sound engineer stuck in egocentrism with peace.

Equal among equals

Such a great potential has been given to us by nature for a reason. People with this vector are a kind of fragment in the human body that develops it, raising the mind to new heights. Exact sciences, music, literature, poetry, philosophy, programming, ideas about social transformation. All this was created by sound specialists. And today humanity is ready and waiting for the sound scientists to learn and reveal the main secret - how the human psyche works.

Only the awareness of one's inner desires and properties gives the sound engineer guidelines, helps to find oneself in this world, which means that it takes us out of endless inner suffering, which is what happens at the lectures on systemic vector psychology by Yuri Burlan. Receiving the answer to our main, often unconscious questions, we get out of the shell of our "I", from the most severe depression, free ourselves from suicidal tendencies.

Your body, the world around you and people cease to be a source of pain. There is no greater depth of endless suffering than in the sound vector. And the joy of filling and realizing innate properties is also the greatest in sound.

Having the ability to perceive an order of magnitude higher than in other vectors, the sound engineer will feel the relief of the most difficult conditions already at the introductory lectures. Because he will begin to reveal himself and the other, to comprehend the world and the laws of the world order. This means getting answers to your questions. Take the first step in Yuri Burlan's free introductory online lectures on systemic vector psychology. Register here.

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