and why is it that i adore the medium of writing,
as much as i do, and shun the prospects of
crafting a video? the non-intrusiveness
of the effort - i might be "speaking"
to a page of defeat, but at the same time i might
also be passing on the olympian torch -
and that's, what's most satisfying:
i don't like the idea
of intrusion, of ******
one self into the abodes of
others, who built up
pseudo-solipsistic membrane
of filtering what pleases
them, and what agitates them:
i think of my writing
as simply as:
lost spare change,
the things you pick up from
the pavement:
once i picked up a 20 quid
banknote from a puddle...
lucky me...
but what is more important is
that i am bound to be "unheard"
in that,
the reciprocated medium
of the existing text is shared
by two people,
no one is force-fed,
it's a question of choice...
when i listen to some of these
you-tube videos: i choke...
i literally can't stomach:
not so much the content,
but the medium: the in your face
medium of rummaging in
"thought"...
at least writing has the double
standard of:
i drop a penny as a stranger,
another stranger picks
it up, also a stranger.
then i startle myself...
why are all the books by english
authors mainly poetry?
i'd say within the ratio of 7/8ths...
social commentators of today
have slothed,
these days existentialism isn't
spoken of: as anything but a crisis...
and apparently it's all externally
agitated... you sure it isn't internally?
to me it feels like an existential
implosion, rather than
an external existential threat -
i know, i know, it's counter-intuitive...
but i own so few books by
english authors,
of course i own poetry from
the last push of americanism in literary
terms via the 1960s,
but that's about it...
i know i can't be right,
but i'm more right half the time
when writing,
than when i could be talking...
you are twice as right when writing:
than you are, when talking.
you can, oddly enough,
write & think at the same time...
much harder to talk
& think at the same time...
that reflex, we haven't mastered, sorry.
i could make a video,
and join this, by now, degenerate crowd
that has: funny enough: imploded,
hello the high-school playground...
as far as i can remember,
i was slightly quiet in high school...
the biggest shout i made
was wearing a t-shirt
that read ******* is not a crime
on non-uniform day:
catholic schools have uniforms,
but 2 or 3 times a year we'd have
non-uniform days, and paid a quid
to charity...
obviously the poor kids came on the day
in their uniform...
taste of america... ah....
plus? talking bores me,
you should hear me talking sometimes,
in my bilingual mongrel talk
(mischlingsprechen) -
i sound like a complete '****...
rather lazy, i don't have the front-stage
rhetorical audacity, or training...
i'm not a sophist wizard...
i don't like the limelight: i prefer a lime
dressing...
but after listening to enough
of these videos: i find that passivity between
the person making a video,
and the person watching: slightly
gut-wrenching, horrid...
it's the aspect of the best example
imaginable - the pigeon, dot dot dot,
p. j. watson...
and i conjured this, from?
looking at my private library,
the books in it i haven't read,
and a pair of flip-flops...
that's all it took...
a private library with some of the books
in it being unread, books stacked
from the floor, nearly touching the ceiling,
and? flip-flops...
dunno...
i can't exactly be in your face,
the dual-effort dynamic of a piece of text
is never me: seagull papa, spoon-feeding
a seagull hatchling...
the dynamic of choice is always
there... and, in the vein of thought:
a transcending approach to establishing
a law...
i.e.: well, **** me, you made
the effort!
making a video of "worthwhile"
opinions is like seeing an aeroplane...
while writing a "poem" is like
hearing an aeroplane, and saying:
should that thing, be over there?!
(while pointing to the flight path
a good deal of miles behind the plane).
plus?
hard to break it to you,
but in the current day & age, you can almost
play a child's game...
you should know it, it's a classic,
us communist kids used to play it
outside the school yard... mind you:
why are all games played by english children
only bound to the schoolyard, and not
to hours outside of school, with your
neighbour's children?
yep... writing in comparison
to making videos is a reinvention of -
hide & seek... neat, isn't it?
oh, the numbers don't bother me...
what comes, comes, what doesn't:
well... one less undesirable who has an
insatiable need to comment...
plus, what i'm interested in doesn't
have the potency of mass interests,
so i'm hovering in an equilibrated medium.
