Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Detours and Déjà vu

Type, delete, type, delete. Delete, delete, delete. So this is what it feels like when it becomes too hard to write.

I keep thinking about Minimalism in visual art, and I am wondering if I can get away with Minimalist Writing. 

When I was in junior high, I was obsessed with the NYC artist Keith Haring. I read his published journals and was struck by the months when he switched from writing in cohesive paragraphs and instead wrote in a fragmented stream of consciousness style that gave readers only a passing whiff of the inner-workings of his life.

I don't know why he sometimes wrote in fragments. I don't know if he was tired, if he was sick, or if he had done some drugs. But that conceptual, sketchy writing is all I feel capable of right now. 

I currently can't get the words out in paragraphs, and a well-balanced story would just be an annoying lie. Wouldn't it be more interesting to read a confusing, conceptual rambling piece than a nice, neat and tidy 500-word funny essay? I sure think so, and you didn't pay to read this anyway.

Well-written 500-word essays are for cheerleaders.

I feel too tired, I feel too rushed, and bringing public exposure to the inner-workings of my psyche seems inevitably lethal.

Is that why the majority of people don't express exactly what's on their mind, or is it that we are all just a little bit hazy until we get a true taste of suffering? Suffering is like truth serum and it deflates the protective cushion that surrounds the brain.

For a little more than a month, I have been suffering, from ambiguous things mostly. Sometimes it's worse, sometimes it's less. 

It's usually the most difficult in the mornings.

When you feel sick, you forget what it is like to feel well. 
When you feel well, you forget what it is like to feel sick. 

This is a picture of the hearse that followed me all the way down 35W North on the first day I used a GPS in town for work. It confused me that the GPS only told me the time of arrival at the destination and not the actual time of the present. A feature like that is disorienting for someone like me who is mostly thinking in the future and in the past but not in the present.

Alright. There, I wrote.

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