Find the story. Bring it back. That is our mission.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Today is (aw hell you can see the date next to the post)
I spent the last two days on Diablo III. Then I woke up and had a fit of hysteria to some dub-step. I exercised and practiced talking about my company in the mirror. More ideas and no assets. Ah...what it means to be an American. I've inherited the dream and my only job is to chase it. It can be my only function. Everything else is moot.
Today's epiphany:
Our identities are preconditioned by external influence. We are not that.
Our physical type is preconditioned by inherited influence. We are not that.
Our emotions are conditioned by chemical reaction. We are not them.
We are born from both extremes and what is truly us is that one element that weighs the options and moves forward. The enemy is the thought that makes us believe it is better to make no choice or that one is not available. We are choice. That is, if not the defining element of our existence, the one subtle clue to the truth of our destiny. We should hold on to it as if our life depended. We should hold to the little voice that warns us away from harm, and supports us through acts of bravery. We should stay true to the nature that existed before our current nature was given to us. It is not human. We are only human for being born on Earth and in our time. The truth of us comes from what humans are meant to be.
Adaptation is a core element of my business model. It has to be. If we are contained, with as little assets as we have, we are dead in the water. Mobility will be our answer. Are projects must be flexible. Our income streams must be diverse. Our staffing must be interchangeable. That is how we will defeat many waves of resistance.
Monday, June 4, 2012
Today is Monday, Fourth of June, Year 2012
I did little of what I wanted to do yesterday. Plagued by human frailty, I wonder what the machine lives like. No matter. I will delve into the distraction and come out of it alive yet. I'll undo the curse. I must.
Ahead of me, so that I may recall and be so bold as to state, lies an ambitious journey. It's one that I pray will affect the class structure as a tectonic plate with a mind to move.
I believe people should work and have stability. Moreso, I believe the abundance of the current age should be presented. We are a shortsighted race. Profit is all too important now. I'm happy for it in that it becomes a measure of esteem to those with a mind for conquest, venture, investment and building. But for everyone else that has yet to withdraw their sword, we need education. And yet education is under attack.
So jobs, and schools and . . .
Dreams, yes?
I see now that I am afraid of what I am suited for. I am afraid it will not be my dream. I have suffered illusions before. Most of them were born in my heart from longing and loneliness. You can influence the world but you can't control people. But I need people to make this work. How will I inspire them?
How will I inspire them?
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Today is Sunday, the Third of June, Year 2012
I would like to be less obscure. I would also like to be far more committed to my plans then, lets say, the plans organized by Blizzard and Bioware and Bethesda game developers. A valuable lesson here though: if you want to be successful in life, sell crack.
My thoughts should be shorter. I'll start with my plans for today: a new love journeys far from me. There's a need to fill the gap. Old initiatives vie for priority. But one looms above them all. I have no specialization save what my schooling is prepping me for. I don't know how this happened. But I'm going to acknowledge that I've done enough day dreaming about starting my own company to warrant some relevant behavior.
I'm playing Diablo III till 10 AM. Then I am walking to campus to see if its open so I can write till 2pm. Though I am eager to dive into my fiction once again, I have a lot to do for my business plan. It's the priority. I am coming back home to exercise. From 5pm to 9pm I will look for work and/or try to organize work opportunities.
I will watch the season finale of Games of Thrones. I'll meditate for 30 minutes on my progress and my next step and I'll write to notify those following me of how things went. Then I will play more Diablo III.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
On Victory
It's never the point, is it?
It's fleeting. It doesn't provide. I mean there is the endorphin reaction, sure. But anything worth celebrating is usually won at great cost against great adversity. And for what? To take in the moment and go home?
It's not about the end but what comes after. It's about utilizing the prestige or the momentum to great effect. It's about continuing on in a greater state than you were before.
I have this habit of writing to fulfill a sense of productivity, like depositing change in a bank. And I think if I can just get my hands loose I'll continue and write my fiction and my poetry. But instead I allow this feeling of satisfaction, this false accomplishment, to take the place of anything else I might do that would actually mean something.
It calms me down. Admittedly the act is an escape. I write something to avoid writing THE thing. I never thought that each poem and each completed short would simply be a step in a building process of my own strength as a writer. I mean we know this as common sense - that people who do something often get better at it. But I think my perspective viewed the outcome as the goal, not as one long continuous evolution of effort. So I'd write for the day and forget about it. I'd eat for the moment and forget about it. I'd earn a paycheck from work and use it as I need it but not as I choose to invest it. Each repetitive thing we ignore is valuable in the pursuit of a great living state IF we understand the worth of victory as a practice.
Victory or success or winning, all mean you have a temporary edge. It's confidence. It's being known perhaps. It's an opportunity to be listened to and taken seriously.
On the road to public success must be an infinite amount of private ones. There certainly are an infinite amount of private failures I can account for, otherwise I wouldn't be home in my pajamas for the last 3 days playing games on my laptop. Now there is a habit well constructed and afforded by the genius in interactive entertainment. How can a person with the aptitude for over 12 hours of focus, easily, have it susceptible to the particular stimulus of the digital medium and not be able to wield it on command?
I thought wanting something and achieving it were arbitrarily related. Now I see that the tools best suited are not aptly applied as a rule in some cases. Crossed wiring?
But like any program, a command change in one line can alter the function. They way I viewed tasks made the approach seem laborious. But looking beyond the final word of the story, beyond the development of the script, beyond the choice to try, beyond the eventual success of achievement, and I am confronted by an ideal state by which I can do . . . some real good in this world.
Well I'm not sure if I truly believe that. For every idea I have there are people that would attack it and maybe the best ideas are never seen that way until they've been marketed right. Trying to find the true good in the middle of all the things that seem to come close is impossible. Sometimes it seems like humans were never meant to agree. But then there's victory and you can't be victorious in the way we are used to without it being recognized by those around you.
It's a moment of communion but that isn't the point now. It just resembles something that we are all attracted to... And I suppose those that are watching want to be a part of it. So victory becomes a greater statement about what we all want in the world, the quality within us to offer something important. And then-to do just that.
If I look at meeting goals as having the right to meet another and taking joy in each accomplishment, then I would never cease in my effort and I would accomplish a great deal.
My challenge exists in all the habits formed prior to this new practice, where there was no importance beyond the act or beyond the day. I've had so much time to lose my sense of urgency that now, when I'm trying to create a sense of perpetual joy while acting upon a realized freedom to succeed, I am faced with a wall of complacency.
In games we are provoked into action and we call it stimulus. We are attacked and we find within us the nature to respond, to end the conflict, to resolve the turmoil, to save the day or overcome the challenge otherwise. But when realizing our own worth we are faced with the infinite. I don't know where to begin at first because I'm thinking of some goal that doesn't exist.
Victory isn't a goal, it's a state of existence. One instance of success MUST role into another. It is the waves of motion in the ocean, it is the steady self-perpetuating rhythm of our hearts. Success is life and death every day, a cycle that has allowed humanity to form. So success in the heart and mind must not be constricted . . .
We call it hard work and seek to escape it. We seek to relax and think we owe it to ourselves to rest. But when it's the right work and we use that same formula we are missing the point. This is the problem, or part of it at least.
I believe investment is dangerous, I am programmed to avoid my commitment. It's not that I don't want to write but I have a strong sense that I shouldn't and I can't figure out the one root and this is how I know that wanting something isn't enough. The feeling, it's the feeling. There is a lot of hesitation when I think about acting. Hesitation and fear as if I stood before something too important to touch but would be mine if I felt the conviction of being worthy of it.
It's an honest question poised to me from something ultimately beyond my understanding:
DO I REALLY WANT THIS? IS IT REALLY MINE? DO I HAVE THE RIGHT?
There is no judgement in the question because all the consequences are known and accounted for somewhere. It's just a question for me and about me and no one truly knows what it feels to be asked it in my shoes and know one should ever care.
The universe is benevolent and just. The void it contains eclipses our understanding, our perspective, our reality. You do not accept deals with it lightly if you do not know your place, and yet men do it easily enough in their ignorance and plow forward through history recklessly and call it it bravery. There is a modicum of bravery sure, when facing the unknown.
But it is far more terrible to face the full request and consequence of your existence and choose the path forward once you understand the importance of the part you can play.
So we come at last to the famous saying "Be careful what you wish for." It is a lesson in the heart of me that I do not take lightly and it is disguised by humility, thought it is truly a fear of my own capacity; of the image I must invoke, the person I must become to allow for all the effort I am as yet unfamiliar with in this life. But the choice is not fleeting, it stays with me and stares at me and waits. It is the patience of it that is unnerving and makes me feel like I have a debt to pay.
It's fleeting. It doesn't provide. I mean there is the endorphin reaction, sure. But anything worth celebrating is usually won at great cost against great adversity. And for what? To take in the moment and go home?
It's not about the end but what comes after. It's about utilizing the prestige or the momentum to great effect. It's about continuing on in a greater state than you were before.
I have this habit of writing to fulfill a sense of productivity, like depositing change in a bank. And I think if I can just get my hands loose I'll continue and write my fiction and my poetry. But instead I allow this feeling of satisfaction, this false accomplishment, to take the place of anything else I might do that would actually mean something.
It calms me down. Admittedly the act is an escape. I write something to avoid writing THE thing. I never thought that each poem and each completed short would simply be a step in a building process of my own strength as a writer. I mean we know this as common sense - that people who do something often get better at it. But I think my perspective viewed the outcome as the goal, not as one long continuous evolution of effort. So I'd write for the day and forget about it. I'd eat for the moment and forget about it. I'd earn a paycheck from work and use it as I need it but not as I choose to invest it. Each repetitive thing we ignore is valuable in the pursuit of a great living state IF we understand the worth of victory as a practice.
Victory or success or winning, all mean you have a temporary edge. It's confidence. It's being known perhaps. It's an opportunity to be listened to and taken seriously.
On the road to public success must be an infinite amount of private ones. There certainly are an infinite amount of private failures I can account for, otherwise I wouldn't be home in my pajamas for the last 3 days playing games on my laptop. Now there is a habit well constructed and afforded by the genius in interactive entertainment. How can a person with the aptitude for over 12 hours of focus, easily, have it susceptible to the particular stimulus of the digital medium and not be able to wield it on command?
I thought wanting something and achieving it were arbitrarily related. Now I see that the tools best suited are not aptly applied as a rule in some cases. Crossed wiring?
But like any program, a command change in one line can alter the function. They way I viewed tasks made the approach seem laborious. But looking beyond the final word of the story, beyond the development of the script, beyond the choice to try, beyond the eventual success of achievement, and I am confronted by an ideal state by which I can do . . . some real good in this world.
Well I'm not sure if I truly believe that. For every idea I have there are people that would attack it and maybe the best ideas are never seen that way until they've been marketed right. Trying to find the true good in the middle of all the things that seem to come close is impossible. Sometimes it seems like humans were never meant to agree. But then there's victory and you can't be victorious in the way we are used to without it being recognized by those around you.
It's a moment of communion but that isn't the point now. It just resembles something that we are all attracted to... And I suppose those that are watching want to be a part of it. So victory becomes a greater statement about what we all want in the world, the quality within us to offer something important. And then-to do just that.
If I look at meeting goals as having the right to meet another and taking joy in each accomplishment, then I would never cease in my effort and I would accomplish a great deal.
My challenge exists in all the habits formed prior to this new practice, where there was no importance beyond the act or beyond the day. I've had so much time to lose my sense of urgency that now, when I'm trying to create a sense of perpetual joy while acting upon a realized freedom to succeed, I am faced with a wall of complacency.
In games we are provoked into action and we call it stimulus. We are attacked and we find within us the nature to respond, to end the conflict, to resolve the turmoil, to save the day or overcome the challenge otherwise. But when realizing our own worth we are faced with the infinite. I don't know where to begin at first because I'm thinking of some goal that doesn't exist.
Victory isn't a goal, it's a state of existence. One instance of success MUST role into another. It is the waves of motion in the ocean, it is the steady self-perpetuating rhythm of our hearts. Success is life and death every day, a cycle that has allowed humanity to form. So success in the heart and mind must not be constricted . . .
We call it hard work and seek to escape it. We seek to relax and think we owe it to ourselves to rest. But when it's the right work and we use that same formula we are missing the point. This is the problem, or part of it at least.
I believe investment is dangerous, I am programmed to avoid my commitment. It's not that I don't want to write but I have a strong sense that I shouldn't and I can't figure out the one root and this is how I know that wanting something isn't enough. The feeling, it's the feeling. There is a lot of hesitation when I think about acting. Hesitation and fear as if I stood before something too important to touch but would be mine if I felt the conviction of being worthy of it.
It's an honest question poised to me from something ultimately beyond my understanding:
DO I REALLY WANT THIS? IS IT REALLY MINE? DO I HAVE THE RIGHT?
There is no judgement in the question because all the consequences are known and accounted for somewhere. It's just a question for me and about me and no one truly knows what it feels to be asked it in my shoes and know one should ever care.
The universe is benevolent and just. The void it contains eclipses our understanding, our perspective, our reality. You do not accept deals with it lightly if you do not know your place, and yet men do it easily enough in their ignorance and plow forward through history recklessly and call it it bravery. There is a modicum of bravery sure, when facing the unknown.
But it is far more terrible to face the full request and consequence of your existence and choose the path forward once you understand the importance of the part you can play.
So we come at last to the famous saying "Be careful what you wish for." It is a lesson in the heart of me that I do not take lightly and it is disguised by humility, thought it is truly a fear of my own capacity; of the image I must invoke, the person I must become to allow for all the effort I am as yet unfamiliar with in this life. But the choice is not fleeting, it stays with me and stares at me and waits. It is the patience of it that is unnerving and makes me feel like I have a debt to pay.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Chasing Volition
It's nothing short of magical. Being creative makes no sense. Why are we inspired and from where does it all originate. What is the chemical value, the physical value of questioning the reasons why anything happens? What is the implication once we begin to receive answers?
I guess it depends on what answers you get. But I'm referring to the stillness that comes with doing something entirely personal. I'm alone in the apartment. I hear my fingers hitting the keys. It won't be long now before someone interrupts me, before I'm reminded of what responsibilities are looming over me...but for now the time is mine and I'm using it to hunt down - well what can we call it? Self-control?
Currently I'm experiencing the onset of that oh-so-familiar condition of narcolepsy. I'm not proud to falter beneath sabotage. I wish I could identify specifically whatever douses the mind in that black velvet of sleepiness at the moment of truth. But maybe I'm just too relaxed. I just don't see how this weakness can ever allow a full book of fiction. I need a break for a moment to stretch my legs. Being independently productive is the God challenge of our existence. And to think it's a wild enough chase attempting to claim the right to change one's path, to alter one's habits, to act upon a goal with full determination all days. Imagine what happens when I finally get fingers around the trigger, wouldn't I just lose my mind with excitement and doubt?
I guess it depends on what answers you get. But I'm referring to the stillness that comes with doing something entirely personal. I'm alone in the apartment. I hear my fingers hitting the keys. It won't be long now before someone interrupts me, before I'm reminded of what responsibilities are looming over me...but for now the time is mine and I'm using it to hunt down - well what can we call it? Self-control?
Currently I'm experiencing the onset of that oh-so-familiar condition of narcolepsy. I'm not proud to falter beneath sabotage. I wish I could identify specifically whatever douses the mind in that black velvet of sleepiness at the moment of truth. But maybe I'm just too relaxed. I just don't see how this weakness can ever allow a full book of fiction. I need a break for a moment to stretch my legs. Being independently productive is the God challenge of our existence. And to think it's a wild enough chase attempting to claim the right to change one's path, to alter one's habits, to act upon a goal with full determination all days. Imagine what happens when I finally get fingers around the trigger, wouldn't I just lose my mind with excitement and doubt?
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Mindlessness
The mind's an awkward tool. It will not always support you. Often it can crash, and will, at critical moments. There are reasons to fear this loss of control but the mind is not who we are. It's a tool. It attempts to translate our interactions into terms that represent absolute values like beneficial or dangerous. But it's capacity to accurately determine the truth of an encounter is limited to our own education and references. In order to increase the vocabulary you have to break regulation on occasion.
When the thoughts stop coming, when your interpretations lack depth and fail you, and you wonder if you are out of your league, just relax. Let the lack of understanding give way to peace of mind, because surely you can't do much about something you have no reference point for.
Your secondary lifeline are you natural instincts. They're bred into you; fight or flight. Survival doesn't take much, just a willingness to let the form set the pace. There isn't much to say about it. We don't often interact with our instincts unless under dire circumstances so the terms are less that stable. We're not super familiar with our animal selves so dropping guard can have the consequence of misfiring (e.g. hitting someone without cause and paying for it, or leaping out of a window from pure fright only to die anyway).
The tertiary mechanism is something you might here in philosophy 101: a priori. There's an argument some are tempted to put forward that we know all we need to know and that our minds are just picking up the slang to translate that awareness into local currency. There are plenty of living examples too stupid to support this but if I'm allowed to chalk up the irregularity of common sense as a means toward a dark future by our, very much insistent, darker tendencies, then what we're left with is the institution of terms agreed upon being misrepresented as objective truth and confusing what we are and what our purpose is.
Finding yourself without a clue would be a blessing in this case. It's a vacation from the madness of our combined perspective and a trip into the void of creation where nothing and everything meet. It's the birthplace of consciousness, that element that allowed for sentient life to roam the galaxies and somewhere at the heart of darkness is an understanding that can't be defined but defines all.
Now making peace with your world could be the outcome and not a very productive one. It's not about letting the chips fall, it's about not playing the game at all. It's about choosing a different way to experience and live and to do it with the a priori first and the mind and body closely following. It means that when things look bad, understand that look is a distraction from the truth of an imbalance that you are there to correct. Let's call it justice and let's call your work in the formula gifted. Let's call it all crazy because we created language and that honesty may suffice to stop calling it anything. End of story, learn to understand non-traditionally and treat each day like a bright new revelation and perhaps the so-called miracles will return to us carrying abundance on every wing.
When the thoughts stop coming, when your interpretations lack depth and fail you, and you wonder if you are out of your league, just relax. Let the lack of understanding give way to peace of mind, because surely you can't do much about something you have no reference point for.
Your secondary lifeline are you natural instincts. They're bred into you; fight or flight. Survival doesn't take much, just a willingness to let the form set the pace. There isn't much to say about it. We don't often interact with our instincts unless under dire circumstances so the terms are less that stable. We're not super familiar with our animal selves so dropping guard can have the consequence of misfiring (e.g. hitting someone without cause and paying for it, or leaping out of a window from pure fright only to die anyway).
The tertiary mechanism is something you might here in philosophy 101: a priori. There's an argument some are tempted to put forward that we know all we need to know and that our minds are just picking up the slang to translate that awareness into local currency. There are plenty of living examples too stupid to support this but if I'm allowed to chalk up the irregularity of common sense as a means toward a dark future by our, very much insistent, darker tendencies, then what we're left with is the institution of terms agreed upon being misrepresented as objective truth and confusing what we are and what our purpose is.
Finding yourself without a clue would be a blessing in this case. It's a vacation from the madness of our combined perspective and a trip into the void of creation where nothing and everything meet. It's the birthplace of consciousness, that element that allowed for sentient life to roam the galaxies and somewhere at the heart of darkness is an understanding that can't be defined but defines all.
Now making peace with your world could be the outcome and not a very productive one. It's not about letting the chips fall, it's about not playing the game at all. It's about choosing a different way to experience and live and to do it with the a priori first and the mind and body closely following. It means that when things look bad, understand that look is a distraction from the truth of an imbalance that you are there to correct. Let's call it justice and let's call your work in the formula gifted. Let's call it all crazy because we created language and that honesty may suffice to stop calling it anything. End of story, learn to understand non-traditionally and treat each day like a bright new revelation and perhaps the so-called miracles will return to us carrying abundance on every wing.
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