More Manifesto

Make something from what you lack. When uninspired, take your inspiration from your lack of inspiration. And if, like me, you doubt yourself, let your doubts be your muse.

[Posted on Instagram. Maybe I'll combine it later with the other Manifesto.]

Trying to Imagine

He tries to help me with what I'm going through by imagining what it would be like for him to go through what I'm going through. But this is different from imagining being me, going through what I'm going through. Which would be difficult for anyone to imagine. It would have been difficult even for me to imagine what it would be like for me, what I would be like, before going through what I'm going through. This means that even for him to imagine what it would be like for him to go through what I'm going through, now that he isn't going through it, would be difficult, let alone for him to imagine what it's like for me. So any advice he can think of only fits with what he imagines he would need, which is probably not the same as what he would really need, and which he also assumes is the same as what I would need, when going through what I'm going through.

[Finally wrote something! Posted on Instagram.]

Emotional

I'm writing from an emotional place because if I don't write from an emotional place I may speak from an emotional place, and if I speak from an emotional place I may say something I will later regret when I am less emotional and more thoughtful. Because right now, since I'm too emotional, my thinking cannot be as good as it is when I am not emotional or less emotional, but now that I'm emotional I'm trying to figure out why that is supposed to be a fact: that one can think better when one isn't feeling so much, that feeling comes at the expense of thought. But I guess I'm feeling too much to be able to see it clearly, and I have to have faith in those other times in which I do see it clearly, when I tell myself that I should always hold back on speaking until I am more reasonable, which I am clearly not right now.

[Wrote this in 2014. Minor edits. Posted on Instagram.] 

Torn

Torn. Torn apart. Families, people, grounds, buildings, houses, homes, histories, humanity, the soul. Bodies...bodies...bodies. Lives... They, we, you.

Nothing to say

I envy those who have something to say. I envy those who know something well enough to write about it while here I am writing only about my self and how I don’t know it. I have nothing to say except that I have nothing to say. All I can elaborate on is my lack of elaboration. My muse is my muteness. My silence my material.

[Posted on Instagram.]

Afraid

Afraid of being afraid, of being too afraid, of being unreasonably afraid, of being afraid for the wrong reasons, afraid of being afraid when I shouldn’t be afraid, of not being afraid when I should be afraid, of not being afraid enough to do the right thing, of being afraid enough but still not doing the right thing, afraid of not knowing what the right thing is, or confusing the wrong thing for the right thing and fighting for the wrong thing, afraid of not learning what I need to learn, afraid of learning and wishing I didn’t learn, afraid of being afraid of learning, afraid of reading, of not reading, afraid of writing, afraid of not writing, of not writing in time, of being misread, of being unread, of my words being used against me, afraid of the bad feelings of others, afraid of creating my own problems, making it all seem too big when it barely even was, afraid of giving meaning to the meaningless, of wasting my life being haunted by that which was never real, afraid of giving or following the wrong advice, afraid of mediocrity, of being paralyzed by my fear of mediocrity, afraid of listing my fears and being overwhelmed by them instead of overcoming them, afraid of discovering only pointlessness in the end.


[Posted on Instagram.]

Too Late

There was a time when you could but you wouldn’t. You wanted to and you could but you wouldn’t. Now you wish you could because you think you would if you could. But you don’t know, maybe you still wouldn’t. Even if you could, and even if you would, you wouldn’t look the same as you would have when you wouldn’t. You learn this but you don’t learn from this, and what you want to do now and you can do now you still wouldn’t, and there will come a time when you’ll wish you still could because you would if you could, or you’ll think you would if you could, but your history says you still wouldn’t.

[Edited on 08-02-2023. Posted on Instagram.]

You, Ghosts of My Imagination

Let me befriend the ghosts of my imagination. The mouthless faces that say nothing. The eyes that stare with no expressions. The loud whispers whose words I don’t hear. You whom I don’t know and therefore must imagine knowing. You and what I project on you, the not-you that only I see in my head; not-you and I, friends at last.

[On Instagram.]