Life In The Deep End Of Aphantasia

Down at the very bottom of the well of aphantasia, your humor seems dark to other people.

You know I cannot see mental images. Being at the deep end of aphantasia has these symptoms:
- No mental imagery
- No dream recall
- All memories are a database, similar to what's going on with the illegal data AI training databases
- Not affected by horror movies, even that Serbian Film
- Not seduced by pretty women, since images don't affect me (see above horror film). That means monkey-like touchy-feely is all my head has for intimacy
- Not much desire to look dress finely like the GQ magazine covers.
- Strong desire to use databases

- Strong desire for spiritual connection or pineal-gland repair
- Politics to us resemble the Rocky Horror Picture Show, but a million times worse

What an aphantasic hangs up in their house are not portraits or landscape art, but a hand drawn letter to the Creator: "Please let me have visual dreams. Amen." Aphantasics might have a scrapbook from the photo days, because it's all the personal imagery we have to hold dear.

The first question I'd ask a politician is: First tell me about Norumbega, before it was butchered up into D.C. with the owl symbolism. Then let's talk about 1871.

So if you asked me to imagine my dad, I say:
What year? What city? Where were we living?
The mental-alphabet-agency-aphantasia database demands context first.

Or for apples: which brand? which store?
Or for horses: What year? What's the horse's name? Who owns it? Where is it now? The mental-alphabet-agency database needs all the context. If you ask us to look at a horses hoof, we make a database out of the picky little problems it has with the horse shoe.
Or for UAPs: First are you sure it's not the USA secret government? Which planet? Which race? How many strands of DNA in the people using it? It it super-soldier compatible? How many DNA upgrades do I have to go through to fly it?

If you asked me to imagine the car my family drove in the 1970s, I can only mention features like AM radio, rear station wagon door.

Car repairs are procedural and stored in a database. It doesn't occur to me to get out the endoscope to look at the engine, since my brain doesn't see images. It's one of those oh yeah, right kind of things.

If an XX (feminine) asks a person, "do I look fat in this", we'd say "You shouldn't ask me, since I'm not affected by imagery". (However, it's better to have a friend who can walk ten miles with you before noon without passing out. But don't say that part.)

What people like us want is not speed-dating, but Aphantasic-Dating, where everyone wears jeans (not jeggings) a white T-shirt, and spreads their fingers in their hair and go SCRATCHA-SCRATCHA first. No makeup allowed. Call it Aphantasia Bed-Head Speed Dating, just so the females understand that imagery does not matter. Older aphantasics notice things in relationships, like demon-symbol worship, black left eye, OK-sign over one eye, tattoos, excessive talking with hands, gaslighting, gold-digging and wanting expensive restaurants on the first date. But somehow these same people state "No GAME-PLAYING". Right. It would be cool for aphantasics to try "Amateur Self-Awareness Speed Dating (i.e. Here's You)", where both people sit behind a tall mirror that hangs on a door, and you face it towards each other. Now I ask a question and watch you talk with your hands.

I've noticed I can look at a five digit number, say it to myself in my head, and type it on the screen. OK. But if I say a five or six-digit number to myself, and just look at four more digits without the inner-dialogue, sometimes I remember those extra last four digits. That inner-speaking only has just so much memory capacity. I've only gotten better with this because it's my job.

All those star-child-5D people will have to do all the imagery for us aphantasia people, since we can't help. We only know Rife healing frequencies and inventions involving a database of frequencies.

I actually want to see the funhouse like the one at the midway, but this one specifically makes the all alphabet agencies pee their pants, have a stroke and want to destroy the funhouse and keep track of everyone who enters. And have a repetitive healing phrase inside like "Yashua Lives", Gregorian chanting and a dark area to see if your eyes glow. That's the funhouse aphantasics want to see on Halloween, not hockey masks and Jason. How come no one wants to make that?

Aphantasics that come here do miss Valiant, even if we'll never understand him. I still have the nine-panel prinout on the wall Valiant suggested we put up.