My friend M always remind me when he think about my book the spider with seven tau-geh legs, that he can’t understand how I think of such things and if i’m high or drunk or what.
I think sometimes i’m drunk but i’m not usually high but can you imagine these are what/how my sober mind can come up with. I think I can understand why people abuse themselves just to tap this frequency of creativity it’s like a silvery cosmos of visions and ideas and it’s like a cloud or a I don't know. I’m just like a radio or a conductor and I get some signal from that and I translate it here and you read what you read.
Sometimes, and for a long time, since I had not really written for a few years, the transmission was broken and maybe because the antenna (equivalent) was spoilt because my ego interfered or something or I don't know what happened, but I was confused or something and so it fucked up.
I think I was doing the right thing but I didn’t know I was doing it until I was confused and I fucked it up and then I say ah fuck it and then I just do what I do and then I recall how or what to do… Until I fuck it up again. But in between, what’s lost are the stories that were never written? No they probably get written by others. They may manifest differently but whatever. What's lost are the years in between that I didn’t spend writing. Lost to what/whom? Lost to the writing-verse which doesn’t really care.
I had lunch with another friend LS who used to read my writings on my old blog, what’s lost is that slice of time in her routine, lost to my writing. But if my writing is not mine. Then it’s also lost to the writing-verse. But if she spent it reading other things, then it's not lost to the writing-verse either. No loss.
Then maybe that is again another pointer to how there’s no right thing. I mean, maybe there’s no right thing. then if there's no right thing. Then I wasn’t doing the right thing before I was confused.
I was unaware before I was confused and became insecure. I was doing something then someone/something/other-verse asked me is this what you should do? Shouldn't you be doing these other things? Then I didn't know these other things and I haven’t done them before so I went to do and then now I know better and I can say ok I think I want to do the thing that I used to do.
Why do I want to do it? Because i’m a radio. Am a transmitter. Of sorts. Why does a pencil want to be used to write or draw or make marks or be stabbed into a person’s eye socket? I don't want to be stabbed into a person’s eye socket. Can’t explain why other than for my personal biases and tendencies and inclinations.
Why does rain fall to the ground? We can go into gravity or the whole water cycle thing again. But is it a skilful question? What is skilful? What is a skilful question and is that a skilful question? Not every question is worth pursuing.
I don't want to play in the cloud of questions and get stuck there for a long time. It fucks with the mind. I don't feel like I belong there. I want to write about an ant.
I wonder if i’m being too truthful about being a radio or transmitter or whatever. But even this is from the silvery cloud.
If I don’t send it out, something else will happen. Maybe I will become broken. Like how I was broken before?
To an extent it’s not up to me to decide. Whether you believe it or not. Whether I believe in it or not. Other people have written/spoken about this before and it is not like it is a secret anymore to those who know. But. When I first realise it I thought it was a secret and it’s a precious thing that I wanted to hoard and keep for myself. Then maybe that’s why I was broken before.
I often wondered why these others written or spoke openly about it. Weren’t they selfish or whatever? Weren’t they afraid of whatever it is that I am feeling afraid of right now? Maybe they were afraid and they also tried to keep quiet then they became broken then they became more afraid of being broken than they were of writing or speaking about the seldom written or otherwise unspoken.
I just have to put it down here and whether it reaches who it is meant to reach is up to something else.
If you know what I mean then I you know why I want and have to write about an ant now.
M is for motivation.
