i'm staring at a while wall in the near dark, watching what i'm watching; mapped onto, but yet the constitution of the visible world, a sort of infinite grid, the perceptible axes of which are wherever i look, but also in a million other places, continually shifting; a million axes turning in upon each other, ceaselessly interlocking and interlocked. that's what i think i am looking at; that is going on all the time.
when patterns occur in the environment they are massively emphasised by this grid perception effect. the patterns come in three distinct kinds; those that are particularly aesthetically intentional, made by humans (an arrangement of pictures on a wall, a patterned curtain or sweater); those that are very strong in nature, particularly plant life, particularly 'weeds'; and those that occur randomly or unintentionally on the borders of the intentional - the contours of a textured wall or woven carpet, the grain in planed wood or marble, the paint peeling from a wall. it is the last which is most persistent, most noticeable; it is the first that is the most overwhelming, the most intense. the second produces a sense of fascination or curiosity which can be enjoyable but eventually too become overwhelming.
i imagine this to be an effect of the way that these patterned surfaces are passing through the grid, or it is passing through them.
i become hypersensitive towards light and noise, particularly if it is electrical or electronic - mobile phone tunes, the signal beeps on a tube carriage; or extremely mechanical, the whirr of ventilators, boilers, train engines. loud noise and bright light of all kinds induce pain of a kind that is not always or only physical. i'm reminded of a passage quoted in foucault's madness and civilisation; "on occasion one sees persons for whom the slightest moving cause occasions much more movement than it produces in healthy persons; they cannot sustain the slightest alien impression. the faintest sound, the weakest light affords them extraordinary symptoms". at its worst this can be accompanied by a stabbing pain like a tiny lightning bolt from the area behind the right eye to above the right ear.
i get aural hallucinations to some extent. i experience, though not quite hear - it is slightly different from usual hearing - a shudder of echoes and almost a sense that the noise was anticipated. the noise of a keyboard tapping away is dizzying, nauseating. as a child, these experiences were strongly associated with a mild sense of panic about having to count an infinite number of things.
not all of these things happen at once or with particular intensity, but in general it is a frairly weird and unpleasant experience. but there are good aspects; for a few days before i am feeling particularly up, creative and intelligent, i write lots and code lots and all that computer use probably exacerbates the later hypersensitivity, and afterwards i feel particularly composed and thoughtful.