Friday 4 January 2013

caved distances sharpen into markings for a non geography of empty depth

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A sky Realtor is the notion of someone/something up in the air - horrible and intangible.  Kind of amorphously just hanging around in the ether prodding it's long wire thin tendrils all over the world spreading it's spores and making our lives like mouldy bread.  Making all the targets we could ever hope to achieve diminish through our own decay and dust.  I remember when I decided I was at war with such intangible evil - though I think this was just a delusion of grandeur (though surely that's what my brain parasites sent from the intangible overlord would want me to think).

I was thinking a few months ago - in one of those moments when I sit on a public toilet cubicle staring at the door for a few minutes (in a pub or somewhere else boring) - whether I lost my war against reality long ago and that I'd been captured, neutralised, neutered, made ordinary, broken down and defeated.  That my life now is the equivalent of having a spiritual lobotomy where I've long ago lost any concrete reason for why I do the things I do.




A lot of my friends think I'm really clever.  But they are completely wrong because I'm the opposite.  I sort of walk around in an intuitive dream like state not really knowing what I'm doing and feeling all together dislocated from life.  Not to say I'm unhappy (I'm honestly not) it just means that whether I'm happy, sad, unhappy, annoyed... under that surface level of emotion I'm not actively learning anything or really developing.  

I'm making no effort.  

I'm operating on automatic pilot.  My day job, my artwork, my home life, my family life, my friends.  It's all just fudged together.  Dislocated elements thrown together day after day into a repetitive cycle.  Not much changing just very slight and very gradual complications to my cerebral kaleidoscope... and these changes are achieved by turning the kaleidoscope around a bit whilst looking through it.  
Much like a real kaleidoscope.



I think proper clever people can hone what they are doing and make it into something better.  Clever people can research.  I have a go at writing but I'm not clever enough to write anything truly amazing simply because I'm not painstaking enough - my brain can't take in facts that tell me anything much about the real world... it's so lost in it's own inside world that reality has no bearing on it.  So that means I'm just as bad as the intangible evil I was going on about in the first paragraph.  I'm amorphous, undefined and shapeless.

So if I'm so dumb then how can I explain what I'm doing and what the purpose of it is?  Other people who know me are probably the best to ask rather than me because their answers for why I'm doing what I'm doing are better than my own.




This may explain why my thoughts often formulate themselves in conversation - like different parts of my head are babbling to each other.  Almost like a separate stream of thought that is in opposition to my usual stream of thought.  I used to wonder which stream of thought was me.

The 2nd stream of thought became manifest in my head when I was about 11 years old - I actually thought there was something wrong with me... I probably wanted there to be something wrong with me as that would explain why everything at that point in my life felt wrong (High School.  Need I say more?)



So for a long while my head had two different characters in possession of it - they were both me of course but at the time I did wonder if the argumentative and uncooperative 2nd stream of thought was a form of possession.  Perhaps an alien.

It all seems a very silly now and obvious when viewed rationally - I never think that I'm half possessed by anything anymore (though that would be exactly what my alien demon brain parasite would want me to think).



Anyway I went on this tangent about developed a 2nd consciousness because I was talking about how other people's analysis of me and my work is more valuable than my own.  Since my mind split into two different thought streams at age 11  my mind has since then been split into several thought streams at once - this doesn't go on all the time but when it does it's what I call DVD commentary mode.  

Sometimes, suddenly, I'll imagine a conversation that people I know are having when I'm not there.  This usually happens when I'm walking down the street which might be why you may see me murmuring to myself.  In DVD commentary mode - a group of my friends are sat inside my head watching my life through my eyes and giving an in depth analysis on what I'm like and what I'm doing.  

I actually quite like it when this happens because they usually say quite encouraging things - so it's like a reversed paranoia.  



So in conclusion I'm not at all clever and the people in my head are much cleverer and their analysis of myself and my work is really really spot on... I wish they hadn't put me on automatic pilot and that one of them could take control of my brain and steer me in the right direction.  

Autonomy and intuition is all well and good for a little while but one day I'd like to actually construct something that makes 100% sense.  Something dripping with context, subtext and other very relevant text.  
Something that isn't described as being a something but as being more than a thing - something that is really really something.

Apologies to all my very valued friends who I don't talk to very often.  I think you'll find it reassuring that you'll always have a place not only in my heart but in my head.

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