Blueprinted Pain and How to Redirect it into a Character for your Fantasy Novel

Disclaimer: All the following is my hypothesis of how the brain is working with all of this blueprint and emotion across the hemispheres. All proof comes from analyzing every human thought I have and how it travels through my brain. Step by step.

When it comes to your blueprinted memories you’ve got bursting and busting amounts of fine motor movement consolidated in your brain.

You take all of those left side tinkers of the day, (material memorization of life, such as the color of a blanket and the curve to a face), and store them in your memory as they  travels down from your brain and into your very being. 

They seem to start in the spine and rise up as your body feels them through and then crosses them over your hemispheres for final assessment if you can get them to pass the limbic system fear stage. 

The limbic just wants to protect you lovers. There’s scary things it needs to store. It’s why when you see a bear you feel fear. It’s taken the bear blueprint and attached it to your primal fear.

At night they consolidate and that’s where my Blueprint Consolidation Dream Theory comes in.

The blueprint would be the whole photo while the emotion would be ‘needing a break from baking’

Life Continues

Then you see that blueprint after years away from it. A lover pops up in the bar your ass is sitting in. You ‘feel’ different.

You go home and see your parents and ‘feel’ like a different person.

Your body is accessing all of those feeling memories attached to that blueprint.

That person causes you to ‘feel’ what was attached to them, albeit the love or hatred you felt for them.

Of course, you may have adapted to that hatred, since hatred is a stored memory of pain that leads into anger that leads into permanent anger. Then the amygdala traps your ability to access memories in the hippocampus. You are blocked due to the storage in that anger, due to so much fear and pain that it is trying to keep you from.

If you have already adapted to that pain then you can feel the good memories again. You can ‘see’ them. The memories come back as the limbic system calms itself.

Well I was able to create the character, Elne, and lose my’self’ in him by changing a blueprint of mine into Laura.

Laura is his wife that committed suicide. My first excerpt for it (before coming to Marfa) was:

Chapter

Elne finds himself lost amongst words. To use happy, elated, ecstatic, joyous, bubbly or even describe it fully so there is no loss in meaning are the thoughts keeping him awake. Elne rolls over and his arm is asleep, apparently his body crushed it. After agonizing arm flaps he sits up and trips over a shirt before flipping on the light and settling into his computer chair. Dear Marie, his letter starts, our moments together filled me with such intense emotions that I can’t even stop thinking of you now…. He is aware that this letter can never be seen by anyone, but he needs to get it out of his mind. The words jiggling about in his head are starting to crack at his existence. Maybe this letter can help me move on, he thinks and I can remember what it feels like to breathe without pain…breathing is hard when you don’t want to. I don’t know how I have fooled all my… friends into thinking those rare moments of true happiness they see is all there is. They used to hound me for weeks to make sure everything was going well in life….I guess they are caught up in their own moments and I should just fucking figure it out myself… at the very least I love the times we do have together and the way I get to feel, as though the Marie thoughts don’t feel welcome and wait outside for a time… Elne makes some coffee and types some more.

Do you remember that night when we walked through the rain and you giggled and danced in it? Why are these memories so filled with pain now? It is as though the exact amount of happiness it used to bring me is the exact amount of pain I feel now. Do you still see it fondly in your memories?

 Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck, he moans aloud, why the fuckity fucking fuck am I not even close to over this?

How have your days been? I despise that I no longer know what is going on with you, or where you are with things that we last discussed. Did you get that raise at work? Do you still want to steal Carrie’s shoes and is purple still your favorite color? These things I want to ask range even to if you confronted your mother to what’s in your mouth right now and how does it taste? I can’t open that small question door though without everything else trying to enter…and there is so much there that’s trying to fight its way in. Maybe I can just enter and leave it all behind? Where the fuck is this door? Marie, my love, why did you not just take me with you? I guess, the true question I want to know, the one I avoid the fuck out of…is why did you choose to leave me? Why did you not just say that you were in pain and could no longer stand the moments here? I would have rather had your words than your blood in my head. Why did you choose to die that way? Did you read it somewhere or was it what you felt was right? Did you consider something simpler…something I could have told myself was a heart attack…even just for a moment, or even if they came back with the autopsy and ruled suicide,

…suicide…Elne pauses to shiver out the word, hating it. Not able to pretend the word makes sense.

I could pretend that didn’t happen…just long enough for me to first heal over the fact I could no longer touch you but for the cold shell on our floor…for a moment….I thought of stuffing you to keep… I had a few insane flashes as my mind thought of ways to hold you before letting it sink in that every option was meaningless, before every fucking option told me that you were dead more and more and more and more until tears fogged them over and I shook…when I shake…even now..it feels like it never stopped. Can you see me up, or down or to the side of there, if so I don’t want to be crying…I want to be…fucking Thor for you. You know I’m all about the past life bullshit you thought made no sense….I hope it made sense in your last moments and that the afterlife revolves around what you believed when you died. I don’t want you up there, in a world where you don’t think…in a world I can never reach….maybe there will be someone up there you can love even more though…but I hope you come back to me…in anyway that I can have you.

Elne walked out of the house, each step heavy. When you’re burdened by pain why does movement feel heavier? Are we just aware of it or are we using different muscles as we turn off autodrive and try to walk without our subconscious? Maybe our subconscious needs to be used elsewhere as we have so many thought that need thinking. He, of course, walks by the shop, and stops. Maybe for a moment this shop can be an escape and he can stop thinking the word Marie.  There is no sound he hears but a dull ringing as steps come closer to the table and he chugs the whole bottle. It gushes into a willing mouth and the world blurs out from black to green to blue to white. My love, he hears Marie whisper, what are you doing here? In fuckingly sadness he passes out and wakes up to a battered back from landing too hard on the floor and no recollection of the night before, probably due to the whiskey I didn’t mention he was drinking while writing the letter. Oops.

Chapter

So while in Marfa I have decided to be these characters as much as possible. I had to make Laura real. I hadn’t truly named her just yet, to my mind. Apparently I had and just forgot she was Marie.

Laura is better.

I have this love named Laura from years ago. We connected in ways I’d never felt before, I’ll probably dedicate a post to her. She deserves her own space.

I brought up the memory of her in my left, the image of her face, and it caused a deep feeling in the right. I was once on the phone with her right before/as she was committing suicide. She’s still alive now…yeah, another post.

So I changed the picture/blueprint of her face. I morphed it into Elne’s Laura. I made the skin more white, lifted the cheekbones and changed the hair to a spiky black that fell down her face. My mind took it.

At first I would still be able to recall Laura as the one that I knew, let’s call her DET. 

Then I really leaked my brain into the emotion and the blueprint. I accessed the right emotion, the pain, and felt it while visualizing Elne’s Laura. I wrote a lot in that mind, but in basics it became more real and more real as my brain replaced the pain.

Within the hours of that night I went from a vague blueprint idea, barely touching it because I thought myself mad, to going mad and having three voices in my head.

It was this deep pain as it reached into all my memories. I used it to write Elne (excerpt coming soon).

It was horrifically consuming, because it was everything that has been waiting inside me. All of the stored pain that I’d never released came into me.

What I didn’t know was the future.

Now.

Now I feel cleansed.

I reached everything, truly felt it, wanted to end life again and felt consumed, but within hours I’d cleansed away all my pain.

I reached into again and again after I finally was able to touch the pain and feel beauty.

I…adapted.

The next day…I felt more cleansed and gorgeous than I have in my entire life. The beauty reached into every fiber and neuron of my body and felt no pain.

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