Forming Thoughts

I find myself swirling round and round in the sewage space of old, intoxicating ideas. I have attempted to regurgitate these notions into various containers, whether in short-form video, journals, or by listening to others’ ideas. It is all starting to overflow and needs a larger, more refined, or even undefined container.

I know where it continues to bring me, to writing, or I guess nowadays typing. I feel an urge to do this constantly, but I fight it off with the complaint being that I don’t have a place to put it, or why would I write if no one will care about it, let alone read it? It feels like, who was it, I believe Socrates, saying that an unobserved life is not worth living. But there is also a significant number of observed lives in which the people being observed believe it is better to be unobserved.

That’s the paradox of it all, wanting to be seen and heard, but when it happens, having the option to retreat into our natural state of loneliness. I ponder if it is better to let fate decide and just yell into the ever-expanding void of garbled opinion over the fire that we started as a species a millennia ago.

We all believe, myself included, that our voices matter and that our values and opinions are good and just. I think only a self-introspective sociopath would be predisposed to knowing and choosing evil without outside determining factors such as perceived self-preservation. I guess the difference between the naïve opinion-shouting bundle of dust and me is that I know my opinions and observations are just as valuable as the air they are breathed with.

Now, whether I brushed my teeth that day or not would have no bearing on the filth that flows out of it. Rather, it is determined by whether it is aimed at truth and understanding, or at self-gain and adoration. The insanity of it all is that, depending on the eardrums that are wiggled by the air, the direction of the aim is perceived. Some may vilify these wiggles while others will praise them, but it does not change where this nonsense was produced.

That place is the only true knower of authenticity.

Here is the beginning of yelling into the abyss to see what it echoes.