something about already being visible, and the way that becomes its own compulsion...
to present a consistent persona that "must" survive (as though it were your own physical life)... therefore becoming more visible and more attached to that persona, in a reality where any informative impression you contribute is irreversibly forfeited to the cognition and decisionmaking of other people from then onward
every moment of conversation and connection is another seed from which a tree may be planted. every time you feed each patch of soil, you dig yourself deeper in with your very own root network, from which freedom/escape means ripping yourself off of the imprints of selfhood you've submitted to the earth and its wildlife (all the while, the roots remain there in lifeless decay at the whims of its surroundings, vestiges which lie indifferent to your flighty spells)
ecosystems that never forget, and agents which seek to survive and advance their interests within/throughout/beyond species of kingdoms of life, and their many contexts that are each differentiated from your own in some form...
individually, how much control do you really have? treated largely by whatever apparent essence there is to your nature, and the limited variable scopes across each agent's capacity to nurture and adapt... and that from which adoption is to some degree dependent, based on the very-tangible very-concrete barely-mutable consequences of an origin point you had no responsibility for... but even still, you may well hold responsibility for your present moment, and you are here now, so you ought to move on...
...or something like that...
a shame that it can(?) be natural(?) to choose(?) to nurture the habit(?) of hardly living at all, and then mourn for it as though it wasn't my own doing (or so we could say)
(do i believe this? what a curious choice of narrativization...)
every moment of conversation and connection is another seed from which a tree may be planted. every time you feed each patch of soil, you dig yourself deeper in with your very own root network, from which freedom/escape means ripping yourself off of the imprints of selfhood you've submitted to the earth and its wildlife (all the while, the roots remain there in lifeless decay at the whims of its surroundings, vestiges which lie indifferent to your flighty spells)
ecosystems that never forget, and agents which seek to survive and advance their interests within/throughout/beyond species of kingdoms of life, and their many contexts that are each differentiated from your own in some form...
individually, how much control do you really have? treated largely by whatever apparent essence there is to your nature, and the limited variable scopes across each agent's capacity to nurture and adapt... and that from which adoption is to some degree dependent, based on the very-tangible very-concrete barely-mutable consequences of an origin point you had no responsibility for... but even still, you may well hold responsibility for your present moment, and you are here now, so you ought to move on...
...or something like that...
a shame that it can(?) be natural(?) to choose(?) to nurture the habit(?) of hardly living at all, and then mourn for it as though it wasn't my own doing (or so we could say)
(do i believe this? what a curious choice of narrativization...)
for everyone: qna queue!! :D
