In The Black Box

The tech dudes were at it again across the table. Offers, offers galore. Join this here crazy house, we do everything like they do in the movies. Isn’t that what you want? Is that what makes us cool. Is it? And here I stand in front of a closed door wondering why I chose to forget what I knew all too well. I am too long out of this game to remember the fundamentals. Am I?

Delighted for the lad, he tries so hard. Can’t hold it against him. Ah to be sure it is a great thing. To be sure.

And then the fridges came out and the leader of the free world was purchasing everything he could get his hands on. Because ultimately all you need is the clothes on your back and a good ol computer screen. Google helps.

Frustration one day will lead to indifference the next. You can’t let your head get out of that utter uncertainty. The best stuff is found on the very edge between reason and reckless abandonment.

I watched a show about Da Vinci’s mind. He was portrayed as a babbling nutter.. the good kind. The one that means good but can’t help flay his arms and hands around like a conductor with 3 orchestras… Why should it be that way. It makes for a good stage show, some eye candy to keep you interested (it was only in 2D – good lord!).

I think it was all in his head… itching to come out. Going over it all minute after minute – until the end of his world. He didn’t need to waste the energy with rest of his body. Just watch and learn.

Today I watched an old lady with a foreign pair.. North African. She was helping them somehow but seemed to be making more of a fuss than she needed. I watched a young guy with too much responsibility fail utterly at being helpful to my father.

I saw a pair of girls on the tram gossip and scheme… neither looked happy – both were uncomfortable in their place. Another pair got caught for evasion of the fare. Details were taken.

The other day, standing outside of Tower records I saw a pair of men carry crates of beverages to club entrance next door. The lazy mans load – each of them were carrying far more than they ought to. The door was closed of course… so the act of placing the towering piles was entertaining to watch. The second man, who had come from a different vehicle to the same spot had chosen to carry his load under one arm and above the other. It resulted in a peculiar dismount – one knee on the ground the other supporting his tiring arm beneath the wobbling pile. I wanted to take a snap shot and draw it right away. I thought it was such a unique pose that would appear in a Manga folio or book of interesting poses. I made sure to remember it till now.

I forgot a dream I had last night that I was delighted to remember in the first place. I keep thinking planes… or boats… Boats, I think that is what it was… going somewhere… the sea was definitely involved. Very interesting though as I had made a note of it to myself.

The dream I refer to where I am offered a position in a tech start up.. it all means something.

Why did I decide to make this entry more lucid? Am I starting to want to use this journal as more than just a brain fart? The last time that happened I filled it up with music reviews. Why did I do that? I guess I wanted to make that other website. And I did.. then I moved them. Then I deleted these.

Hit the gallery. Look at the effort and try to motivate yourself to do the same. You will not achieve anything by using the tools of others. Create your own means and the product will be so much more valuable. Create your own tools and the world will take notice.

I want to create a platform where I can compile all of this in a public and private way. A Document for the world to use now and in the future. Something that we contribute to without trying. Something that allows us to quantify our footprint online. Allows us to filter our own presence. Present certain types of content to those that we want to see it.

I struggled to motivate myself to write these lines the other night. I wanted the time to do it.

I am afraid I wont be motivated when I return to the working world. Why is it that a creative job stifles my creativity. I am torn by fear of under achieving and thus resulting in a total stagnation of new content. The exact same content that got me the job in the first place.

I am determined to increase my wage but I have no need of it. I want it. I do not need it. What I need is the time to draw what I see around me. Look at the amazing things that are provided to my eyes by life in this city, country, world. Listen to the endless sounds and music that surround me on a daily basis.

Sometimes I walk home and I can’t remember the feeling of standing in front of a painting you love, but did not expect to see. I forget the breathless moments. The awe as you crane your neck around the brushstrokes as if they were an inch from your face.

Nighthawks. Ornans. About to write a letter.

That brings me full circle.. I am going to sit right down and write myself a letter.

Breaking new ground with public utterings of these things unsaid in the most public of places. That is a good move in the grand scheme of things rather than wondering for ever if anybody gets how the mind works it always good to just be up front and let them know.

The Plural should always be spelt correctly. Little red lines of evil!

A constant urge to find the next thing to work on. Runs in the bones and blood and keeps the mind healthy, but forever engaged and weary. Ultimately it will tear it apart. Especially on those long hard evenings when there is nothing left, especially time, with which to work for. Also tied around the worries and constant questioning of every day phenomena.. that which others will partake in.. the unsaid.. the elephants in every room.

The mind sits and stares at the obvious.. knows all. Tells nothing. Like it should. Keeps itself sane and unbalanced at the same time. Ponder over one thing for too long and it will tear the mind apart bit by bit. Instead release it on something and build upon it.. Let it into the light.

Then harness every bit. Use it.

That is when it makes sense.

Waiting for the noise to finish this.. faraway thumps suggest the end.

I was in a room with Pirates.. I was a pirate. We were discussing our union amidst a major celebration of youth and music. A massive rave in the garden. A humongous rave in the club and beyond the walls. Lasers and thumping music. Everyone was having a great time. Inside we discussed the conditions and I found myself full of frustrated yet demanding voices. I commanded the room to be silent, I remember thinking to myself that I sounded mildly annoying and definitely forceful… but I was surprised at its effect. I had no respect for anyone in the room, but neighther did they for me. It was a mutual distaste.. yet I was trying to convince them to doa good, change their ways… I struggled to find the word.. eventually another pirate (my brain) reminded me… Vigil Ante… that is what we could be. Outlaws for the greater good. The scary force that does the dirty work where the law has failed to deliver. But I knew deep down that they were just using me to hide their intentions behind a nobel face. I knew it but I wanted to work with it.

The most shocking thing was the noise, the loud thuds that came twice like explosions outside. Every pirate ran to find out what it was. But it was nothing.

The sound was like three glass explosions. The volume of a truck of glass depositing its load on a concrete floor. Keys smashing against a glass window.. Perhaps it was happening in reality and I failed to notice. The Pirates returned to their discourse. I woke up.

I knew it had been a dream.

Let’s get one thing straight. It always goes down this way.

Once it is decided the idea of stopping the process is not desired. This is not a complete flow. Distracted by the want to begin on something new. Platforms and cans of it. Wrap your eyes around the visions, ideas, desires and last chance saloons. It is all in there between the fingers and keys waiting to be emptied onto white expanses trees and fellow walls are full of the same impulsions. We all got to the line at the same time, we all want to get to the next one before the last person speaks up and pulls the whole shit down on our heads. Get there first and lord it over the rest. That is what they all want you to do. That is what is always on the minds of the many who sit around twiddling their thumbs. They are the ones who like like they do the least, but in reality they have the greatest ideas. They are unafraid to express even the wierdest of ideas. The weirdest of ideas are usually the ones that change the face of history, push the earth onto a new axis. Create an absolute black hole in the middle of what is expected.

Just twiddling their thumbs. Thinking. Endless thinking. And at the end of it… an idea.

In the mean time they do this. and it always goes down this way. So let’s get to it now that that is straight.

Click.

When did I stop really contributing. Without stopping to consider two letters, two words. Two anything. I had a flow that could not be matched by my present self and I was proud of it. I was totally in tune with everything I wanted to be at that time, in that space. I had a viewpoint on my life that was completely observational and totally over the top. But I was not afraid to express it and to learn from it. Somehow I knew that I would read it all years later and gain so much energy in the process. At some point life got so important. At some point life got more “important” and I stopped trying as hard.

I don’t try at all.

I never used the word I at all for instance. I should try and do that again. He should try and do that again.

He wrote words that are now totally disconnected from his head. Time has brought them to a new place. Taken them apart and created a new person. One which can represent a different time and allow passages of text like this.

This was a person who had such a pure view on life. He struggled to fit in.. to be cool.. to see and feel what he wanted so much. It seems when he got it he forgot about what got him there, what attracted his goal in the first place.

It was also the core of what has been made possible now. He was a creative. Helplessly creative. A person who could not do anything else. Someone who was thankfully hampered by his lack of knowledge and benefitted from the time it took to learn. No desire to “look” the part. Except there was a desire. Just couldn’t do it. And as a result that lack of ability allowed so much more to be expressed. No hours in front of endless letters and numbers trying to figure out who can be friends and who cant. No endless hours with tiny squares pushing black against white and colours into the right combination.

It was just words on a page. Sound in a speaker. Images on a screen. No combination.

This site became the combination.

Perhaps it just needs to be stripped down to nothing. Words – images – sounds. Nothing else. Do not even try to combine them in one place. Put them beside each other and let them exist on their own if they have to. That is what should be done.

Forget the menu. Just a timeline of words.

Forget a timeline… except it is nice to be able to place words in a time and space.

Why can’t i disconnect now!? What “I” is it talking to? Who is he?

Stop with the persons.

Disconnect, reset. Plug out and back in. Start again.

Play the strings.

Release the shutter.

Pen to paper.

Push the button.

No more power.