I don't blog or have a substack. Though publishing a book is a recurring fantasy of mine. Some samples for the curious.
Every item I use contributes to the guilt of existence. A shame for things being too good. I don’t know where the strawberries come from, but I recall allusions to exploitation somewhere down the line. Not to mention the disposable plastic packaging. All just for me to enjoy while listening to Radiohead through my Audio Technica headphones? My life has little going for it so I can’t help but feel as if all these injustices against nature and people are for nothing. Perhaps this is what living a life for others in the 21-st century means. A way to offsource the guilt of consumption, for one’s own life then becomes a commodity for others to consume, in turn dignifying it and supplying it with value. A network of empty martyrs supporting one another.
There are few forces greater than those of the ocean. The American West Coast is cooled due to the heat capacity of the water. For many, a first exposure is very physical, a reminder of the vulnerability of flesh, no, really. There’s a beauty that can be found in the kind of thinking known as generality and I wish to share that beauty with you. I wish to give you the gift of a contemplative dissolution into salt and atom without the explosive energy that comes with it. I look between the wooden panes and see the Pacific Ocean crashing onto the shores of Santa Barbara.
Are only men capable of the rebellious act against determinism?
Some sentences are certainly more common than others, and some sentences are uttered in complete originality, with the author being the first to conceive of such a string of words. One can make a list of such authors, indexing them with artists and poets topping the charts. I’m starting to hate artists and poets, so I am grateful that LLM’s/tower of babel exists.
Often it’s not about what’s being said but about the ability to say them. Body as medium once again, are you starting to see a pattern? With the weights of nature, the most rebellious thing a woman can do is intentionally make herself more beautiful than what there is. As such, her ability to have some degree of individuality, some humanity, wanes proportionately with age. Thank god for technology evening the gender discrepancy by offering being in the forms of mediums other than body. Recollections as recognitions.
I simply do not have a love for this anymore. Vitality in the form of stochasticity as the greatest of vanities.