On Style

No doubt, it is you but you wholly? Much of what we gather as ourselves is what is taught, in that time, by these people, befallen genetic persecution, we are bred with direction(s), as if steer, which supplant what is instinctual. Huxley’s dystopia is not far from perception. Sit with this loathing, for it speaks to us a tale with a myriad of beginnings and endings. Discovering the ruins offers emancipated becomings nay, once severed by the infectious cleaver reassembly is out of reach. Take an eye from my socket I have now 1 functioning eye. These are the means obligatorily traded for existence.

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In my previous upload, I was asked about my style, why it was the way it was, calling it confusing, moreover Deleuze-esque (thanks). Comparative or not, I fail to flatter this ‘punctual’ response. Judgement entrusted in immediacy suffocates reflection, with that intellectual prowess. Void of either, painting a white canvas white hoists far more value, however, academia will love to entertain such narrow ideals. Expecting to find a middle ground is asking the creator to modify for the sake of general clarity, in an artful translation much is lost and to that point no longer the creator’s work.

Let it be said more directly – my work is not for all correspondence, it will lose interest,.. I care least for interests. I reserve MYself for MY work.

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We’ve begun our descent into natures haunting encumberment when we are told “No”. Here after, long after (if given the chance), relevance chips away this hesitant appeal with its chisel, usually in a defacing manner. Let’s explore this further…

Growing up it did not feel so inviting to do something considered bad. For the rest of my youth, I would, at all costs, be avoidant of this. I wanted to be a good boy. Not for the sake of being a good boy, moral attitudes ceased to exist at the time, twas’ rather because there resided a fear, a deep pitted affliction directed towards me. Unnerved company would shape the faces of those witnessing my kind. This was my “No”. A poison would stir in my being, lingering with no end (a Nietzschean critique). By effect, instilling the person I came to be. I would eventually have to learn we are not always the person wished for but later become comfortable with knowing/exploring.

To joust my point, as we are born, we are thrown into this clash with premeditated feelings from the outside world about our choices (being a carnivore, vegan, fruitarian), whatever decided comes with the curvature of a hook. Knowingly, part of being alive is to make decisions, being alive is already a decision we make, particularly how, and it feels like the only one we allow ourselves but not each other all on the basis of what is objectively or subjectively relative.

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Back pedaling with reference to learning how to be content with ourselves, the stoics would practice acceptance. Concern not what is out of your control, with due respect to the intricacies of The Universe ofc. As far as our person-hood goes, the pre-platonic philosopher AKA history’s earliest recorded soft boy said:

“Be as you wish to seem”

Socrates will forever stay in the conversation, our thanks fangirl Plato. This was a call to action – before us is a chance to be! But with any pursuit comes with the nifty disclaimer SUFFERING UP AHEAD. Nevertheless, I’d like to input this adage encountered, if it’s not challenging you, it is not worthwhile. Value and novelty are encrusted with what cannot/is-yet-to be.

Closing, in the brunt of defeat/failure there lies a sure sign of trajectory (of where we wish to seem), remaining saintly, on the other hand, when does one encounter faults? My younger self would never know.

After some thought, knowing how true you are seemingly becoming is quite tricky

(not to mention the need for a witness). We confuse ourselves with the supposed you –

what we ought to be. How much of that is laced in delusions,

 false impressions, the visions of others?. Instead of acceptance,

practice questioning the seemingliness of it all, it might revitalize you. 

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This “clash” presented before us is founded in rudimentary thinking (us vs them), and so, to layer substantial reflections, briefly, paying homage to Pirsig’s Object vs. Subjective argument is in order. Following, sieged by what is generally liked/accepted by the masses later becomes adopted into the objective when once subjective.

We can think of ontological arguments: the quality of what is identified as a well-made movie. Acting, plot, artistry, cinematography, meaning, are all considerations undoubtedly, yet how does box office sales weigh in on this conversation? Is there a truer metric? Looking at the broader appeal, we can infer that because the amount of viewership generated skyrocket box office numbers it can be loosely called a “good” movie not to all but most and “most” being that threshold the sciences use to establish objective truths – having conduced a statistical significance, confidence interval and replication tests charters the lines of what is factual… But should we consider the mistrials? Or the ever-evolving environment we live in? Or what about the noumenal reality beyond what we can perceive? “Haha!” says the 0.00001 percent found in hand sanitizer, we know that we know nothing.

Mr. Pirsig in the years as the educator found this to be unbearable (the absence of nuance), he knew there were free spirits in all of us, and in his line of work he fabricated this tapestry of life which was not modeled for true discovery or inquiry or what is instinctual. As mentioned earlier:

“…academia will love to entertain such narrow ideals.”

Traditional education ensues an objectivist approach to knowledge, following these guidelines makes you an acceptable __________! In accordance with university. Objectivism, in summary, makes small/zero exceptions to the rule, forlorn, creativity is only a madman’s dream for its criteria is ambiguous. Exactly why parents would baffle at the idea of artistic pursuits. Exactly why we require ‘madness’.

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I have this thought.

All before us was created for us not, so happen, we to be reluctant recipients.

You cannot convince me that in the pits of Galileo’s study, their concern was for me, Sebastian. This was a personal drive. Were the Wright brothers wondering how I was going to make it to Italy? Sadly no. Went on the two with their feats. What the three have in common was widespread commentary of their unconventional undertakings. From them we have before us planes and (improved) telescopes and their key ingredient was undying passion (or to align with my dispute, uncompromising style!) that drove some to believe they were mad.

If its “maddening”, do it.

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Far from reach is rehabilitation. We cannot unteach ourselves of our habitual instincts, the years ascertained are not to be effortlessly turned like a page in a book and if it were may that book’s pages be made of horror, ornamentation, and treachery. Life’s antidotes share this recipe. Fredrick Douglas once said..

It is easier to raise tough children, than repair broken men

There is obviously something glaring about our rooted trauma. Too much is irreversible, and at some points improbable. There is this back and forth I have with this delighted somebody – do people change? – both of us acknowledging the difficulty in that decision but rarely likely. Not all of us wish to visit repressed indignations, this abyss to some remains unknown. It is not an incentive for all to know thyself, it can be found somewhat futile. For once the self is actualized the psyche has already been tainted and burdened, the purest sense of self we carried died long ago.

We have now only what is present. The merchant of existence gifts you wishful thinking for spiteful thinking, these unpromising efforts to create a new beginning. So, with what is left, bundle it up and carry this close. The shackles of worldly pressures are eminent, let them be but never overarching into who you are. Thus as my work is ridiculed for its latent writing structure, I’d argue: let me have me, .or what is left 😊

In tribute !!! =