A bee rescued from a swimming pool has to dry its wings off and get its strength back up before it can fly again. That’s what I have to do at this point. I forgot how to write. I have to reset myself and figure out how to say what I mean all over again.
They say that “done” is better than “perfect.” Real is better than theoretical.
A little bit every day is infinitely better than nothing.
The rest of this is going to be stream of consciousness for my own exercise:
I don’t know where they get the gall or the impulse or fight in their minds to lift off and face down whatever it is that they think they can defeat. The point of this message is not to make sense or to express anything of any value, it is to keep the author’s fingers going on the keyboard so that he recovers his abilities and remembers how to fly.
I don’t know whether it’s worth going to the end of the page just for this. I think I have what I need and the point can be gathered and broken down into the spaces I want. I don’t know if there are spaces at the bottom for all the little things I want to keep. I don’t think it matters. The bottom is deep underwater space, the Mariana Trench of the mind. Strange creatures live down there in the eternal darkness. They float and drift and have no need for eyes.
You can always get yourself out past the deepest point if you squeeze past and remember the reason you dove down this deep to begin with. But most of us have amnesia; we don’t remember the time before this one. Wittgenstein said that the purpose of the world does not lie within the world. The purpose of your life does not lie within your life. We’re always trying to remember what the hell we were meant to be doing here.
I can make things before me work the way I wanted them to work. I cannot get a purpose lined up for my ascent into whatever lies beyond that blinding light. Maybe it’s chaos, because perfection would be oblivion. There is no time without entropy. Without decay there is no existence.
I don’t need italics anymore — italics are an excuse. This whole damn blog is unrestricted, unfiltered free writing.
I had something important that I intended to talk about, which I forgot, and all of these words are incantations to try to get that meaning back. If I stumble around in my darkness for long enough I will find it.