The worst feeling is when you have nothing to say, so the post has to be about how you have nothing to say. There’s nothing to say about it, nothing that anyone feels like reading about. But this blog is not for reading, it’s for unclogging your brain. The writing — and especially sitting down and writing every single day — that is the part that matters.
So now that I have reassured myself over nothing, what do I say next? It’s too early. The idea that you have to do this right away in the morning is a myth. You’re not functioning yet; it makes no sense. I haven’t started thinking (or obsessing) over anything yet.
Time for some stream of consciousness nonsense:
I wonder what the deal is with people who won’t let anyone in. What is the point of dropping yourself that low if you won’t absorb some of the insanity around you? What is the purpose of coming into existence for a short while and leaving if you don’t take any of it in? It doesn’t matter whether it makes sense or not because you’ve told yourself already that it doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t need to make any sort of objective sense, you said so yourself. But it can make sense to you, and if there is no meaning behind any of it then you can at least have pleasure and enjoyment, and you cannot have that without assigning your own meaning to things. You are the microcosm, after all. You are the tiny universe created in a mind and you have all of the purpose built up inside you to release into the world.
So now what? Now how do we get to the point that you can navigate the world and gleefully tear yourself into the fold so you can make a difference? Why do I want to leave a mark on the unfolding pattern of matter around me so badly? Anyone who didn’t feel like doing that is gone and forgotten. We all become forgotten, though. There is a horizon to our influence. All you should care about is what is inside of that horizon.
The italics are unnecessary. I wanted to use them to demarcate the nonsense but it’s all nonsense, really.
The only part of your existence you’re aware of is this linear bitstream of characters, one word after another in a line. Conscious thought skims the surface. The depths are full of monsters; all of that is just animal experience. But up here I can breathe air and get a grasp on what I feel. Connection does not come the murky bottom of the pond, it’s made at the surface where you have actual thoughts.
The unconscious is overrated. It’s the conscious realm where you take in the vibes and make use of them.