Some folks have noticed I've gone silent again. There are several good reasons and maybe a few excuses I could offer you people. The main problem though is the fact I'm now three sentences in and already feel like I shouldn't be doing this.
It's all my fault.
I take the blame but my brain is difficult to explain.
Lacking the ability to enter your minds in order to discover a few variances that could lead to a more factual experience when it comes time to make a few comparisons, well, that only makes coming up with an accurate explanation of what's happening to me upstairs at least twelve times harder than it truly needs to be if I take a wild guess and don't actually use math.
Are you following?
You see, within my mind I have these things called, thoughts.
It's basically me talking inside of my head instead of using my outside voice or this keyboard to demonstrate ideas to the public.
What I'm noticing quite often is how what's on the inside grows and travels at speeds my physical form simply cannot fathom. In my mind I'm already at the end of this post, it's done, so I'm heading outside for a cigarette but forgot my lighter. In reality I'm only this far.
My mind is ahead of its time.
The thoughts can be best described as interdimensional beings on their own planes of existence overlapping and happening all at once. Each is its own flash of light or spark and when observed through some kind of internalized detection device I've yet to find a proper name for (
mindoscope, brainoscope, thoughtovision), I see and/or hear entire data dumps that form some kind of a language only I can understand, some days.
Other days like today, the other day, and lately, it's just gibberish going pew-pew-pew pew-pew pew pew-pew-pew-pew pew pew-pew pew-pew pew-pew pew-pew-pew-pew bang pop sizzle sizzle pew, and so on.
You'd think it would be beautiful like getting a blowjob under fireworks on a warm summer evening but it's not. It's more like that annoying neighbor who works on muscle cars yet sucks at being a mechanic but still wants to spend all weekend revving engines until they blow up. Then his wife comes out and they start arguing again. Then the fucking dog is barking and the kids are crying. Cops show up and he's out there twitching on the lawn getting tazed for the third time this month. She's crying and kicking cop cars yelling about, "Don't take my husband!" Then grandma has to come pick up the kids who don't want to leave until she starts bribing them with the potential of chicken nuggets from McDonald's where they discover there was Covid in the sauce three days too late.
It was fun to watch the first time but now it's going stale.
With so much chaos going on inside my own personalized, internalized and compressed universe, finding one thing to sit here and yap about is an impossibility.
Who the hell would want to read garbled up unprocessed thought vomit with a dash of nonsense leading to a void of nothingness? Can you even imagine what that would look like?
That's an old picture.
Which leads me to my next point since that's what segues do.
Many of you know, over the years, I spent a lot of time producing digital art then placing that work conveniently under your noses with the hopes you'd use your eyes to see.
That all took thousands of hours worth of purified concentration. I haven't had much time to focus at those levels lately and when I do find a moment, haunting thoughts like to weasel their way inside and start munching on the insulation that separates my terrible life from the life I'd rather be living.
So many distractions nowadays.
I've always been driven to work hard towards seemingly impossible goals I set for myself. Sometimes it's all thought, no action. Other times the results exceed my expectations and I'm left wondering if I actually managed to pull that off on my own, or did some kind of higher power step in to cut me some slack.
Have I been possessed by ancient aliens?
You know your confidence is shot when you can't even accept the fact maybe, just maybe, you actually did something right, for a change, all on your own.
But I still make damn sure to remain grateful as I travel through this humbling realm upon a crusting fireball drifting through the emptiness that is how I feel.
My mind is crammed with absolute unproductivity, these days. I'm distracted by the world falling apart. I feel fucking dirty trying to get attention from a world that barely pays attention to itself. I'm not bigger than the problems, nor am I the solution.
I am nothing, and for now, that feels good.
I'm still around enjoying the worlds some of you folks create for me to experience.
I always found it to be incredibly difficult to focus on my own thing, then go pay attention to yours. Now I have all the time in the world to sit back and enjoy the show. That's what I feel like doing.
I'll go back to the daily grind, posting my own brand of chaos, at some point, when I feel like the time is right. I've always said this platform needs far more consumers so rather than talking about it, I'll simply become one of those and try to have fun.