'thread' stuff
I see words on a sign, on the front page of a newspaper, or while looking at a discussion board, and notice my mind begin to run and jump along threads of association. I let the threads unwind.
When they stop unwinding, I cut the threads. These threads of association are leftovers from a game I used to play, like textual dreaming. This old game-playing mind was raised to be a good consumer-participant. A hungry ghost program, always craving new thought-toy distractions. It's a trained social darwinist in the marketplace of ideas.
The 'one who cuts the threads' woke up around a year ago, while I was writing one night. Cutting is its nature, though I ask it to do a lot more. It's learning how to spin its own threads on the thread-making machine, through conscious effort. It works day and night, re-training the mind. I put a lot on my thread-cutter.
Here's a portrait of my cutter. Ryu, the assistant-editor. He also plays the role of 'top secret first person perspective guy' in my stories.
uneninja.jpg
People like to say home is where the heart is. I don't know about that. They're talking about where their 'heart-strings' pull them. Sentimental attachment doesn't feel like home to me. It's too comfortable. Heavenly stasis. Home as the grave.
I love to drive, very very much. But the road isn't where my heart is, either. That's just fun, an escape. As things stand, I can't drive without gasoline, which means money. I need to have my inspection sticker. To drive, I need a whole web of threads to be in place, functioning with some stability. It's selfish, privileged indulgence. Driving in a big bubble. It's not much different than RI.
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Both his words and manner of speech seemed at first totally unfamiliar to me, and yet somehow they stirred memories - as an actor might be stirred by the forgotten lines of some role he had played far away and long ago.
by fruhmenschen » Sat Oct 15, 2016 10:55 am 
