STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS FROM 7 MONTHS IN THE FUTURE
Okay well yeah.
Sort it out.
Anyway, so um there could be a good thing, there could be a lot of good things there could be a door slamming, a squeal of tyres, my mind, in my eyes, in my mind eyes see thoughts of something, the night the door way to a million possibilities. A million possibilities served with a smile, your one is waiting and made fresh. Is that a contradiction?
We’re trying to take our existential experiment further, it’s possible there’s nothing left to say that will impress anyone any more for any reason that doesn’t matter so that’s why I write rather than ride some dream, play with my toys, leave them strewn across the room so that some woman might pick up the pieces and change my nappies.
If growing up is to be miserable and starved of culture then that is my tantrum, screaming on the floor demanding attention like a child.
I can’t enjoy my own experience if I’m locked in the expectation I will behave because I don’t want to and as long as I don’t have to then why should I?
Is it what people see or are they too busy looking at themselves? Can we not all see we are flawed, if not desperately striving to better ourselves, mutants, mutating, reproducing, testing thoroughly, nothing if not thorough.
I was walking down the street not luck enough to be interesting but I only have myself to blame for being half dead and traumatized by my own existence. It was too frightening to live so I died a little each moment and they never realised until they buried me. It was most unfortunate, but rebellious I was in thought. The mind was willing, willing to dream, as long as a dream was good enough.
I thought it was merely a jigsaw puzzle and an obstacle course but perhaps I wasn’t suited, perhaps there were too many pursuits, too many alleyways I found my self recedivising in – all while I didn’t know how why I could also meant I wouldn’t and I was a secret agent for an ongoing tragedy.
My orders were simply to await further orders and maintain my post until that time however secondarily there was perhaps a subplot in which I felt a great weight however it was mysterious as to it’s nature and nothing I could obtain instruction on.
I tried to look at the problem from new perspectives and try new approaches, but like layers of an onion they unpeeled and left not more wiser but thinking anything else but htinking of it was infinitely preferable.
Maybe a practical approach was required or no approach at all. Willfully reductionist we look for new purity in simplicity only to find our own deficits and shortcomings ambush the convoy riding through the valley, who were bringing much needed supplies of hope and delusion to the pilgrims and settlers.
Uncertain times call for uncertain, unmeasured measures. Any sense of surity is of value and yet everything mysterious is a gamble unless it is known and defeats the very adventure of it.
This is just a note from the future where we tried to time travel to the past and it was only a dark rainbow through which nothing but crude yet but maybe charming illustrations were portrayed.
I figured I had nothing to say to those I had outgrown, did it comfort anyone to forcefully and somewhat awkwardly let it be known? Some burn bridges so that they might never turn back, and I only sought for the outlet that felt right in my reaction, I was only the flowing trickle seeking the path of least resistance but perhaps another path lead to a better place, one can always wonder, and perhaps wonder too much.
It’s only to be said that you don’t have to make sense in order to spread a message, you don’t have to be understood to be an artist, otherwise you’re just an attention seeker.
Maybe I don’t have to understand life, I just have to live it but letting vital mysteries, vital nonsense, vital life, spasms of vitality, they only have to have innocent life to cavort, they needn’t know.
I struggle to hard for meaning. Or I onlu understand achievement and failure. Maybe I’m still not getting it . . .
I don’t even really know whats going on with this update it’s probably not a big deal that i didn’t update for almost 3 weeks, but I did do a whole lot of writing because of my new idea of just writing and using it for marketing and maybe posting whatever I liked here that didn’t make me seem like I was constantly under strain, when y’know – I’m just sorting out my affairs. I’m very thorough. Except where I’ve just got ideas and postings all flying and I don’t know what’s going on.
There are always lots of ideas and you should think about them, they could be good for getting things you want. Y’know.
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