My bad

I talk too much. My writing is chaotic. The topics I choose are of things outside my play area. It’s all true. Now close the browser and move on. There’s good reasons for everything I do – but they are my own. I don’t trust my memory, it failed me many times. As such, every damn time I find myself nose to nose with a fictional polar bear I try to capture my thoughts on the matter. What I write is how I saw things, at that particular time. It may change, it may endure – it’s not up to me. Keeping an open mind means revisiting past thought patterns, challenging their validity and basically remembering the how and the why. I don’t have photographic memory so I write.

               I don’t write about the things I’m most familiar with except from a psychological perspective because the knowledge is there, it can be accessed easily. What I’m curious about is what makes me think that way, what surprises me, what makes me think. Remembering the functions of spin on a particle isn’t really that important, what is important is what I make of it. What I do, who I am or other such questions mean nothing in this context. They may matter to you, but not to me.

               People confuse me. My own behavior confuses me. Intelligent individuals acting stupid also confuse me. I don’t particularly like that feeling, so I’m trying, piece by piece, to put the puzzle together. I don’t write much about satellites, dark matter or farming implements because I understand those. I write about the things I don’t understand, I’m placing my own thought patterns on paper (sort of) and after some time I’m coming back to them. I’m trying to remove accidental or emotional interferences in my thinking, by pondering the same things on different days. If the same reasoning gives me different results – then my logic was faulty and something jammed it. This is a lesson in itself, for me. I can try to understand why that was possible and prevent it from happening in the future. When I’m angry I don’t think clearly. When I’m hungry I lose focus. When I’m happy I’m skipping steps. I actually need a specific mind-set, a special circumstance so to speak, to be at my very best.

               Information in itself is potential, unrealized, power. Understanding how my mind works is only part of the solution. I have to understand how others work, too. If you won’t believe I’m doing it to be a better person (and you shouldn’t), think of it as finding exploitative weaknesses. I’m not a very nice person, probably. So let’s say I’m actually looking for ways to take advantage over others. So there you have it. What I write about is what I’m pondering, what I’m analyzing. I may grunt, I may laugh, I may get angry – but I’m not actually doing it. I’m spreading emotional anchors all over the place, like tomb stones or markers. What you read isn’t what you think it is. It’s one-up, dissected and disassembled, as to whenever I’m back at it I can easily challenge my ideas by reassembling the pieces. I told you already, I’m the target of my writing, I’m the real product sold here. The biggest truth you’ll ever hear from me is I’m lying. And the biggest lie I’m telling you is actually true. That’s the real magic.

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