Ah, we. People. Humans. Aren’t we fucked up? And yet we manage to get shit done. Somehow. It’s all pretty alright, if you look at the extent of our fuckedupness. We try.
Let me be an optimist today. We’ll make it.
I’ll make it. Yeah, let’s explore this. What if I make it? Normally I would start answering this with another question: “what it is?“.
But today I’m just gonna go right (well not really now) into it. First thing that comes to mind. So. What if I make it?
Well. I’ll be a creator. I’ll create what, games? Experiences? Stories? How, when, for whom?
Where is the desire for doing that coming from? What am I actually doing to be that?
I’m all caught up in this life mess now. Balance. Not quite present at the moment.
What’s with my love? What’s with my girl? Friend? How will this go? Am I up for a great heartbreak?
I need a place, a space to express myself. To myself. And to other.
I realized, in solving this love conundrum, that I am really emotional. Or I’ve become. I thought I was much more rational. I mean, I am that too. I try to be. It is me. But now I can’t deny having this other side too. And it’s pretty powerful. Both are. Are they opposites? And what are opposites?
The relationship between two extremes of the same spectrum, what is it?
And how about evil? All the tragedy in the world? People murdering, raping, destroying, mindless behavior. Wars. Taking advantage of someone’s suffering. Laws of nature. Hunters and prey. Dog eat dog. Big fish eat small fish. Survival of the fittest. Survival. Toughness. Being a dick. Being an asshole. Fucking others over. Antagonizing people. Alienating people. Manipulating people. Being egocentrical. Ego. Maximizing one’s own benefit. Just plain evil, for it’s own sake. Evil weirdness. Drawing pleasure from doing evil things. Evil and bad. The difference. Evil out of necessity?
And here I made like a 30-40 minute break to read about Birdman on IMDB. Did I mention that I have a problem with procrastination?
What it really is, anyway? And what is melancholy? And depression? Don’t we just love to have some all-encompassing slogans?
What if the detail never ends? Even if it does, it may not matter if you can never get to the bottom of it. Literally too. What level of generality should we/I operate on then? Should we flow between those. Adjust them to whatever else? But if you’re adjusting everything all the time the only thing that’ll come out of it is chaos. If there are no constants. Right? Or wrong?
I used to be more certain. Some things used to be simpler. Or so they seemed. But it’s all the same to me. Or is it? See?
Question everything. Really? How? And there’s an inherent paradox in that.
Is everything inherently paradoxical? And if it is, what to do with that fact? What becomes of logic and rationalism and stuff that works then?
Fuck, even mathematics breaks down when you look in hairy places. So is there anything to hold on to? In this universe?
The speed of light maybe?
Many opposing forces in my head. Should I write it all off as some philosophical bullshit and carry on not thinking about it anymore? Not wasting another minute on trying to answer these endless questions? Just living? Should I become zen about it? Just live in the now, in the moment? How do you interpret that anyway? What’s your idea of seizing the moment? What’s your understanding of living in the now? How can I confuse those two things? Well, they do touch on a common theme. Level of detail again?
Should I just drop everything and isolate myself from the world for a while? Fuck do I feel overwhelmed. Some people have it worse. To what extent are you the author of your own suffering?
Is suffering another buzzword? Buzzword is not the right word, I know. But you get the idea.
Doing stuff in parallel. Stuff happening in parallel. Dependence. Independence. Sequential. Concurrent. Parallel.
So anyway, what if I succeed? I’ll be a creator. Some will say an artist. I ate all the chocolate. It was bitter, but pretty alright with peanut butter.
Right, an artist. So there’s music, there’s visual art. Drawing, painting, animation. Characters. Storytelling. Writing. Communicating. Hard facts, knowledge, observations. Feelings. Conclusions, truths.
And the technical side. Coding. Putting it together. Creating an interactive experience. But do I really want to do that? How about minimalism?
What about it? Where in all this it resides?
What does jack of all trades means anymore? How do I function?
Hedonism is not the answer either. Is there a balance? Or is this just a struggle?
What is the extent of my stupidity? It’s been about three times that I used the word extent in this post.
Are my muscles atrophying? My abilities? Fuck, I’m so scattered. It’s cold here. In this room. I don’t feel anything near comfortable with the amounts of money at my disposal. I am poor. I have computers, access to the internet, I don’t have to walk long kilometers to get water every day. What about these people? What if shit happens to them? Breaking a leg? Getting sick? Like really sick. How about infections? Stronger immune systems? Diets?
How about I imagine myself as way lower than I am? How about I imagine myself as higher? How about I don’t imagine shit? What is this higher-lower bullshit anyway? What sort of a fucker am I?
Does the confusion ever stop? Is all meaning forged? Are there just feelings of understanding and confusion, but no reality in them? What’s the difference?
Can I make it on my own? And how much “on my own” do I mean? When am I ok with dying? Am I ok with it? How? Will this be a good way? Cool enough for ya?
How about the technological singualrity? How about rendering all these questions meaningless/stupid/useless/bullshit/whatever? Is this post composed mostly of questions?
It’s 4:44 am. Fuck. My sleeping cycle is completely unfit to society. I feel like I don’t fit in. Anywhere.
So what if I succeed? Money. I’ll be making money. That’ll keep me safe. If I have a safety buffer, a security valve, a just in case scenario, I can at least stop worrying about that. What’s the point of worrying anyway? How about when shit hits the fan we deal with it and not waste time on what-ifs? What if money were no object? What if all these concerns didn’t exist? What sort of what ifs did I have in mind?
Should I act as if or as I see it? Do I see it right? I need new glasses. Or contact lenses. Do I? It sucks to see poorly. I have a pimple on my face that’s about to burst. It itches.
How I wish it would all work out. Just work out. What can I do but try? And just make these imperfect plans. Try to find my way in the darkness.
This will soon be or already is the longest post I’ve written here. Definitely one of the longest. What’s the meaning of that?
What are the things that I will never experience? How many more times will I experience the things that I’ve already experienced?
I don’t read. How many books will I read during my lifetime? How many products of culture will I consume? How many will I create? What good will they be?
How much money will I spend throughout my entire life? How much will I gain? Will I leave some? I hope I will not owe anything. At the moment I don’t. I rarely borrow. If I do, I give back ASAP. I don’t remember the last time I borrowed money from someone. Fucking money.
Competitions out of thin air. Pressure. Fucking with our states of mind.
Happy pills or a balanced life. Placebo. Nocebo.
And what if I haven’t had enough sleep and I make things shittily and then they’ll say I’m no good? And I’ll say yeah, apparently.
Did my teeth get more yellow? Fuck, I’m starting to feel like I’m falling apart lately. How do I get it all back on track? What are the causes of this state of things?
And now a 10 minute break for a podcast. I better send this post unitl I lose it. I’ll make another one immediately.
Maturity. Comes with experience.
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