Only ten percent of our brain is readily available for our everyday use. The other ninety percent...who really knows what lies in its depths?
Do you really know what your are thinking behind your own back? Beneath your own consiousness? Within each of us, exists a world largely unexplored. Our brains are so complex that we're not capable of truly understanding who and what we are.
Your subconsious is a powerful force, and if you try to fight it, it will exact its punishment.
It takes what you see and experience in everyday life and produces a world all its own, with its own rules, laws, physics, ideas, people, and even monsters.
In fact a giant monster protects the subconsious mind from the consious so that they are only able to mix at certain special times such as R.E.M. sleep.
Mostly the consious avoids the other parts of the brain because it fears the deeper wiring and what it is really made of. Another reason is that it wants to feel as if it is in control and that nothing and no one can truly tell it what to do. It questions authority, and questions itself, and is never really sure of anything. The deeper parts of us. Memories we tried to forget and have lost, feelings we avoid, thought trains we dislike, all are there, we just hid them from ourselves, lost in the subconsious. In fact subconsious is a bad term for it. It implies it is beneath the consious, and the consious holds dominion over it, when often the reverse is true, despite our own self delusions. Many think of it as fate and destiny or even luck when really it was often engineered in large portion by our own supressed mind. This part of our brains IS sure of what it is doing. It doesn't question things. It just knows what it knows and that's that. Because of the natural separation of these minds, few people ever truly know who they are and what they're really capable of. It is in large part a section of our brain we label as 'demonic' and avoid it at all costs. And in most people it is in many ways what we would term demonic. It is this person within us that whispers dark nothings in our ear, and contemlates the many inventive ways in which we could kill that person who slighted us in an elevator, or that boss that dumps on us everyday. It has no restraint and can be full of malice towards others and its own higher brain. It's a common horror story, a person finding themselves face to face with their own subconsiousness. A mirror shimmers , and the reflection in it no longer reflects you, it 'is' you. After being supressed for so long, beaten, kicked, and hidden away by you, it has become maniacal and revenge is its only goal.
On the other side of the mirror you see more than just your other self, but also a twisted version of your life that is their reality. Bodies, horribly mangled and contorted litter the floor, some of them in pieces and others strung up like trophies on the walls, and other things that defy description. Then it all fades away and you're left with your own reflection again, wondering if it was all just your 'mind playing tricks on you.' But it isn't. And then again that's exactly what it is. It doesn't understand how you think, and what it doesn't understand, it reviles as some construct you or your society made up that doesn't exist anyway. What it understands is on a deeper level. It thinks in terms of blood and sex and smell is the only sense it trusts. It doesn't believe in higher ideas like love and friendship. It merely seeks out a particular scent and when it finds it thinks one thing and sticks to it like a dog. 'Mine. My pack. My mate.'
The only way to win against this powerful force is simple and yet very difficult. You have to deny a battle with it entirely. Ignoring it on most issues is really a necessary part of living in society today because of the way our culture has evolved. If it had its way with all of us, it would take our culture, relegate it to the 'bullshit' category, carve it up, burn it, and piss on the remains.
And yet it is part of our history as a species. In reality the battle is between our 'godlike' side and our 'animal' side, a result of our being an imperfect hybrid between the two, that should have never had the ability to procreate the same way mules can't procreate. The truth is we were created to work in the mines of the gods and be their servants and then be destroyed. But for some reason, many of them took pity on us and gave us knowledge and procreation, going against their leader and getting us cast out of his 'Edin' and left to fend for ourselves for the most part. What followed eventually led to many wars between the gods and men some of which we have record of like the Trojan war, but that era ended as well when nuclear weapons were used and the gods thought better of it after seeing all that destruction and how many humans died because of it and the aftermath. For some reaons its unclear whether they still take responsibility for us or lay claim to our world. Probably not, and if so they do it quietly, behind the scenes. Perhaps wizards were also originally their creation for their personal use or for battle. Who knows. The beings watching over us now are not the same ones that gave us their dna and our higher brains originally. They are for lack of a better term insect like and seem to be so orgainized that they form a kind of hive mind, but I'm getting off topic.
The immediate problem is that Harry knew he contained a Horcrux in the form of his scar, and I should have been prepared for it, he does seem the type to do things rashly when he gets into an emotional state. I hope it is not a state that I induced? Perhaps my actions reminded him of something my future self did. In fact I have little doubt of this seeing my original plan for the boy would have made things sketchy at best between us further into the future. Well I believe I may have rambled in my journal enough now. I need to do some more research into Harry's current unconsious state.
Voldemort's soul is indeed gone from him now but I believe he may have caused damage that induced the coma he is in now. I only hope he hasn't been drawn into his subconsious where his magical core resides. If so it may prove difficult to get him back out again. In a sense the way back is simple. It would simply be like throwing a breaker switch in his core to get things going again. But to get there...the brain isn't a simple straightforward place to navigate. It's not like watching memories in a pensieve, it would be like wandering through an infinite labrynthe with countless dangers around every corner.
I know from personal experience that the worst enemy a person can ever face in their lifetime is themselves... I only hope I can devise a way to subtly help him get through this without doing any damage.
Entry dated July 12, 1991 Albus Dumbledore ---
Harry awoke to find himself lying in the hospital bed at night. He sat up quickly, wondering how long he'd been out. He felt no more pain, which was odd, he should be feeling a lot of ache and fatigue from all the energy he'd used up, unless he'd been out for a week already. He got up to go look for Madame Pomfrey in her office. As his feet hit the cold stone floor he shivered and sneezed. As he did this the person in the bed next to his twitched in their sleep. Wait...there shouldn't be anyone in the bed next to his unless the hospital was full, Madame Pomfrey preferred keeping patients spaced out to allow more privacy and seperated bio-zones, although he didn't think she used that term exactly. He looked around the room to see that every single bed was occupied, and many of them appeared to have sheets covering them completely meaning...they were dead? What had happened? Had he been out so long that the students had come back already and some had been injured and even killed? Where was the headmaster? I thought he was more capable than this! And some of these children appeared very small.
The person next to him, though sleeping fitfully, was wrapped in bandages from what appeared to be head to toe and he decided he didn't want to see underneath the bandages. following his original plan to get some information from the Matron he headed to the back room, not knowing the guaze-faced patient had watched him leaving with his glowing red eyes. And then with a deep scratchy voice that hissed with anger and hatred.
"Soon Harry Potter, you will face the horrifying truth you deluded fool. I will see to it you never escape this place."