is this 🦋 a treatise on motivation?
Substack as mechanism through which time flows through me and becomes content for you
Formerly titled: Always becoming what I have to tell you
This composition window is simply a mechanism through which time flows through me and becomes content (my consciousness) for you. You, reader, are my customer, my key stakeholder, the thing keeping me sane. Of course I still content that “I write for myself and that reader who will pay the dues,” and I’m used to life alone with my mind and the computer, keeping a cinematic distance through the separateness implicit in having a name and a picture, being a body distinct from anybody else.
Romancing the mind, being a dance partner, being home for somebody else’s consciousness for a moment, a minute, an hour…a beautiful encounter that crushes and transcends all talk of money, strategy, positioning…it puts all that in its place, some distant room in the mind, a room we may as well cut off from the house and let fall into the ocean once and for all. What if we didn’t have to obey the banks? It’s just governments printing money and peabrain politicians making deals, doing contracts, swapping promises and projections…they’re just lonely and wish they could do what we do, but they’re owned by yesterday, the clock, their brand…and it isn’t even conscious. They don’t talk about it.
Perhaps I’m hard to follow, I don’t paint a picture, I write “well” but not in terms of what you think is good, or if you could explain it to someone else. Perhaps I had to be bad in order to know what to do with what I become. All this happened in silence in the last seven years, mostly. Twelve if you really want to start at the beginning of cultivating my voice. Now, the problem is there is no order to this except what the computer did. Every day I have to imagine a reader; the order is OK, the links are there, I just don’t give anyone a reason to read: here’s a mess of a man. I suppose that’s a start, I just don’t think the taste is there, or in other words, the consumer behavior. And we are all businesses now and must keep track of the market price for what we do. We sell our time, we gamble, we venture. I have a meeting today, nobody’s getting paid, it’s a bet, it’s a trying to do the right thing.
The terrible thing about consciousness is someone is bending it into a calendar. They’re trying to reflect what they are with their action: they’re coming for you, they’re going to be posting, they want to be read — what happens when there’s no one to read who we are? This is acute for me, someone badly in need of an editor, a reader who can see what I’m trying to say, who wants to see it hammered into something more cohesive; perhaps I need someone to want more for me — I’m at the edge of my desire, I’m pushing as much and as fast as I can — is this 🦋 a treatise on motivation?
~
Painting a meme…is this millennial art?
That’s actually a great question. Humans are mimicking machines, and in the professions, they are all about results.
“In Russia, isolated young men post memes…”
https://www.buzzfeednews.com/article/ryanhatesthis/the-far-right-is-a-meme
^ this was an article that was central to “research” I was doing around 2014 about the trouble with media, which may have warped into just the trouble with time, computers, money, people, institutions, the banality of emotionally unaware leadership, the banality of selfishness, Washington D.C. being a slow motion car crash (and a sport worth watching) — oh, how every disaster is rendered as consumerism! Oh, how many and time don’t make sense! But I’m not the only confused man on earth right now
we are all trying to be something, or we are something,
i can always write more about being; perhaps the challenge these days is having a conversation, and somehow covering money elsewhere. It is very hard to be a person.