Chapter I: a conversation to no avail, an exercise of illogical consequences

I don’t like change. I mean, it’s not that I have anything against its moral principles or its universality, it’s just I don’t see the need to be so wrapped up in measuring it. Calculus, therefore, is a means, not an end; such is Buddhism. It’s what I admire, not what I believe in. On the contrary I like commas, and I see to put them everywhere, any day, until, they seem, arbitrary. It’s a goal that I think is pretty attainable.

Of course I know that I should have written a much more eloquent and polished introduction to this collection, or even took a little more time in the beginning to organize my thoughts, to find the patterns and then to present them, rather than hoping that they present themselves. Contemporary superfluous speech, accompanied with random-minded jargon, intelligent multi-syllabled phrases aimed at obstructing the reasoning of the nothingness (thank Sartre). He’s French, and I like that.

I do, in fact, enjoy chaos, but not the media-frenzied variety. Mass markets need to increase funds by enabling the consumers to consume. It’s about money and property, which seems to be a successful albeit failing business, at least for the latter. And now that I think about it some more, the former as well.

A book about a guy writing a book about a guy who’s a schizophrenic, and it turns out that the author of the book in the book is a schizophrenic. One name’s on the book and a million are trapped inside.

I guess it’s ok to be a writer. Nothing like sitting alone in a quiet room talking to yourself and making up stories. I understand that the characters have some bearing in reality – phone rings – but that doesn’t mean they can’t be created again.

Stream of consciousness makes a lot of sense if you don’t ever think about it. Problem is I get so bored sometimes. And I know what I want: to not do anything. The ideal, the dream, the truth, it’s just that when I do it I get so bored sometimes. Reading a book, taking a walk – now that’s a good motivator. My mind wanders, I see an idea, hold on to it, dance with it for a while. No time in waiting for music, and then we go over a few steps, things that seemed a little rough, try to sand them down, even out the bumps on my head. And then I realize that I’m taking away all the beauty. I can only give you something to read; I can’t tell you what it means.

That’s why I like the idea of perspective; there really isn’t right and wrong, unless, of course, it’s forced upon. Governments need to do that at least in some respect to maintain an order. I just don’t find it necessary to define what that order is and how it works, and labeling it a “human affair” tends to be a little hypocritical if all the existentialists only read 20th century German, French, and Dutch authors. I feel that a little bit more variety – and it doesn’t even have to be a different time nor place- would make for a much more complete understanding of the nonsense that is the non-sensical.

I know what you’re thinking, I just haven’t figured out a way to express it. So I say “I don’t know.” Math, science, religion, government, art, metaphysics, philosophy, doubt, corruption, death, life, happiness, truth, concepts – all really fantastic and beautiful ways to say “I don’t know.” And I try to hold on to as few as possible, but some just keep on popping up from time to time and instead of worrying about what to worry about I simply make my ideas as erroneous as possible. Telling myself nothing matters matters, and it matters to me a lot, and I believe in this whole thing we call _________. I just can’t fit the words in the box so that they don’t sound crazy. What’s wrong with crazy?

And what’s with the “What.” ? I find it most exhilarating the “What?” and not the “What.”. It feels a little more pure, because some doubt is expressed. “What?” Yes, of course, but “What.” ? I don’t think so, or simply put I don’t know. Not about “What?” but about “What.”. The answer lies in the question. That can be taken with both meanings even if the context only allows for the definition of “to place” and not “to be untruthful.” I say embrace the illogical! It might make more sense.

Alas. I have little more to say. The merging is complete, but I still wonder, and I still dream. Haven’t written them down until now. I have the fleeting suspicion that even if I just made a dream up that it still would be interesting. Another word for weird, like different, but the inherent meaning, which sounds more like an oxymoronic euphemism, seems so out of place. A stranger in a strange land, but where else would it go?

Exactly. The answer lies in the question, not in the answer. It’s not very profound, and I would advise even the most keen to try to feel it both physically and abstractly.

“But how does one feel something abstractly?”

Exactly, the answer lies in the question. Functionality, build up, reason, the reason we are here. Not the fact that we are here or that there are reasons, but the reason we are here: a collection, a stream of consciousness, a means. But not an end. Not yet at least. Not now. And I can’t think of any other time but now. Can you?

Well there’s then, and then there’s later, but later is just another now, and then used to be now and now is then. Language is one of my favorite games. I don’t like change, but I won’t see to its complete dismissal.

I guess what I’ve been trying to say this whole time is written somewhere. I’m not sure where and I’m not sure when, but I have a feeling that it’s there, amongst the ideas, the words, the meanings. I haven’t been able to put my finger completely on it so I will continue to write until I do. Not for today or for any other day for that matter, but for fun, and sometimes. I’d like to think I’d do it more often, but I need a walk. At least a break from the games and the fun. A little bit of solitude, like the writer, does go a long way. But I can’t help but feel bored and inspired. The simple might seem lazy – phone rings – and the obvious rather obscure. But that’s ok, it all works out in the end, some way or another. I just don’t like to think about everyone being dead, that’s all. More like the end of a movie. Everyone gets up, sees the light, and talks about it. I figure that’s what I’m trying to do. But sometimes watching a movie seems more fun, more enlightening. It’s definitely easier even if it’s costing more and more money these days. Turn the tv off for a few seconds and stare at the wall, you might see something even if you are scared too. You’ll definitely see a wall, but if you see your life then maybe it’s closer than you imagined it. Maybe there’s more than hope, maybe there’s something that doesn’t have a definition yet. Dictionaries are rulebooks meant to guide, to suggest, but above all I’d say, at the tender age of 24, that I haven’t got a clue. And I know that I don’t want to rest in my ignorance like some really old pillow that I just can’t let go of, or an idea that I keep to myself because I’m afraid of saying it. Those darn rules, I can’t be mad at them for what they do to me, because they don’t do anything to me. And I wouldn’t prefer to be mad at myself for what I do to them, so where do I begin?

I like change.

-Anthony