the beginnings of a pseudo story:
Clarity of mind is a hard thing to find on an under construction highway at two in the morning after three beers and a handful of cigarettes. Your mind trailing off after the ghosts of the past tends to distract from the road. The wider your eyes get, the deeper the sense of forgetfulness. In the end, you're in a gas station reeking of urine in the early early parts of the day just to stay awake. Why did you even start this trip you ask yourself? The inevitable answer is that you were restless and had nowhere to go. You felt like battling the spectres of retina burning sunsets in complete dark just to see how much you could take. How much a borderline dreamer who can't remember his own dreams when he wakes up, could really take before giving up, or giving in, or giving it all away.
You find that the idea in the original is an overly romantic and dramatic notion in your monotonous day to day. A break from the same thing you did yesterday, the same thing you did in yesterday's yesterday, the same thing you will do in yesterday's tomorrow. After several hours in a swirl of endless introspection, you find the original to be monotonous and tedious itself. So you essentially escape from one form of dullness into another. But you can convince yourself that this one is different, "better," because it is "not the same." When really, all you did was switch locations. The grass is just as stale and fragrant over here as over there, and over there, and over there.
So how do you really make this different? How do you move yourself out of the doldrums of thought and reaction? You search until you find the source of the desperation, the "angst," that moved you to move in the first. You seek it out and then dissect the beast within in order to understand what makes it move. Only after this realization can one begin to fight against the discontent inside. Not by moving away, not by moving around, not by ignoring its' presence, but by embracing it and the pain that comes with it. Sometimes the pain is the result of some fantastic joy, sometimes the result of an incredible sorrow revealed. Your conciousness frequently hides itself from you in fear that it will destroy what little grasp you now maintain.
However, maintenence is not the goal. Growth, change, maturation are the keys to survival. Without them, a husk is allowed to form, to become who you are. Stale in the ways you find comfortable and strongly smelling of home. Comfort can give the false impression of contentment...
Clarity of mind is a hard thing to find on an under construction highway at two in the morning after three beers and a handful of cigarettes. Your mind trailing off after the ghosts of the past tends to distract from the road. The wider your eyes get, the deeper the sense of forgetfulness. In the end, you're in a gas station reeking of urine in the early early parts of the day just to stay awake. Why did you even start this trip you ask yourself? The inevitable answer is that you were restless and had nowhere to go. You felt like battling the spectres of retina burning sunsets in complete dark just to see how much you could take. How much a borderline dreamer who can't remember his own dreams when he wakes up, could really take before giving up, or giving in, or giving it all away.
You find that the idea in the original is an overly romantic and dramatic notion in your monotonous day to day. A break from the same thing you did yesterday, the same thing you did in yesterday's yesterday, the same thing you will do in yesterday's tomorrow. After several hours in a swirl of endless introspection, you find the original to be monotonous and tedious itself. So you essentially escape from one form of dullness into another. But you can convince yourself that this one is different, "better," because it is "not the same." When really, all you did was switch locations. The grass is just as stale and fragrant over here as over there, and over there, and over there.
So how do you really make this different? How do you move yourself out of the doldrums of thought and reaction? You search until you find the source of the desperation, the "angst," that moved you to move in the first. You seek it out and then dissect the beast within in order to understand what makes it move. Only after this realization can one begin to fight against the discontent inside. Not by moving away, not by moving around, not by ignoring its' presence, but by embracing it and the pain that comes with it. Sometimes the pain is the result of some fantastic joy, sometimes the result of an incredible sorrow revealed. Your conciousness frequently hides itself from you in fear that it will destroy what little grasp you now maintain.
However, maintenence is not the goal. Growth, change, maturation are the keys to survival. Without them, a husk is allowed to form, to become who you are. Stale in the ways you find comfortable and strongly smelling of home. Comfort can give the false impression of contentment...
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