Noise

I think it fine to say I've been hibernating.

Happy Easter, first of all. It was just before Christmas that we last spoke, dear internet, and the months between have had their share of ups and downs. The winter was dark and cold, and so perhaps was I. It was the best and worst of times.

I've been doing a lot of reading and a lot of thinking. Don't you wish you could sometimes just get a transcript of what's going on in your brain, the opposing voices with their commentary and song? It's possible that this is madness, but I believe it equally possible that this is simply the postmodern human condition: this obsession with place, placelessness and rejection of place as a reality at all. Because I'm living this life, right?, and I feel like there is somewhere a moment for me to arrive where I say, "Ah, here I am, isn't it beautiful." We think in context of this moment which may or may not exist (in the trajectory of time or whatever) but consider its subjectivity and instability of location. I mean, what kind of reference point is the present? Show me a guy who can say, "I just have to hold out 'til this moment and everything will make all kinds of sense." Seriously, show me. Maybe aging is just figuring out, "shit, I guess I'm where I'm gonna be. Might as well take a look around."

But I don't know about this postmodern brain'a mine. Of ours. We've got the immediate thoughts. The it is a beautiful day today thoughts. On top of that we have the internal monologue, the my it's a beautiful day today, just like on my seventh birthday when we had a dinosaur theme and a scavenger hunt that everyone won thoughts. This is all well and good. We should be able to think in different time streams, travel momentarily to other points in our chronology and return having retrieved information without being loosed from the concept of present.

Then there's this other track playing, and I don't know if generations before ours really had it. We've got this metanarrative thing that pans in and out sometimes. I don't really know how to write about it, but it's that chime that reminds you that you're leaving earth for a second, whether zoning out or remembering something or whatever, an acknowledgement of disconnect and a question of what it means that you're where you are mentally at this particular moment. Right NOW. It's a small feeling, this.

Society exists for very specific reasons I think. It gives us something to cling to, compare ourselves with. Normality is a relative point of reference that provides context to our selves, allowing an easy construction of self. It keeps us self-satisfied and, perhaps more importantly, busy considering the aethetics of everything. Qualifying in terms of amount or duration or size or achievement or title. This isn't bitterness, I think the purpose is of quite some substance.

But, really, fuck all that.

Maybe we're all particles bouncing off each other and very subtley altering by scientific variable the course of whatever, the universe or something, I don't know. Maybe we live and die and nobody gives a fuck. Maybe our collective mind is driving the species and there's something very terrible about what that says of us, and something amazing about what we can do. Maybe it's all bullshit. Maybe life renews or maybe it doesn't and it's all meaningless. Regardless, I think we're missing the damn point.

What I'm talking about is that when I touch you, and you're beautiful, and in that moment we're something, I feel this incredible electric calm.

And maybe that's the fucking point.

Perhaps heavy on the psuedo-philosophy, this feels good. This moment we're having now. Start a blog. I want to read it. This is an exciting time and somebody has to write it. Might as well be us, yes?


All my love,
Mike