You are what the time shows, and announcing it, creates a form of adaptability between what you dream of yourself being, and what the reality truly is. Adaptability of training performances for instance… it is completely different to the adaptability of the official stats of momentary performances. Therefore, one questions between the reality of daily proof and the reality of official status. In the end, glory is based on means of recording one’s performance, regardless of how official or unofficial it has been. Perspective is the key to recognition, and perspective is the analogy of advertising. Advertising adapts our brains to certain images – it is a form of brainwashing. “Facebook” for instance… it becomes the brainwashing means of popularity and diluted images of one’s worth. The true essence of one’s being, yet only remains 100% pure on face-to-face encounter. No matter how complex means of communication become, the purity of knowledge will always remain the same through eternity: By using all five senses.
There is even an adaptability to doing nothing. Adaptability to the constant stimulus of a television that thinks for one’s own sake; stealing away imagination and capturing moments of one’s essential and sincere reality.
Adaptability, again takes place in the creative process. It is a flow of thoughts where one links with the other and the overall effect is one of continuous concentrated inspiration that starts from a moment of multiple points of inspiration, travels nothing but linearly, and never ends. This is perhaps why a number of artists are usually messed up in the head. There is no linearity in their existence.
The most unfortunate reality of adaptability is that it occurs hand in hand with the suffering during the experience of the alteration. It’s evident in strong bodies, which have endured the change of force causing their physiques to have adapted to a higher bar of external stimuli. The receiving process is one of pain, and the reward is the adaptability to a higher existence. This is the same with psychology. Although psychological adaptability is much more complex – it requires unseen forces and a complexity of support, varying from individual to individual and from circumstance to circumstance. For this alone, words are gibberish. And so are superficial impressions.
“[…..] and do not confuse instinct with emotion”
The callous need to be always tested, always scrutinized to the bone, through that gaze of reprobation…
….how do you define it…?
A totalitarian mess of a diachronic masochistic embrace of the unbearable.
…and then… what…?
Then one head or heart explodes, by the intolerable information that what is felt is a bit more than what the average person can handle.
True love is above average…
(..so be careful with it..)
Not too long ago, a dear friend told me…
“We aren’t linked with an under-sea optical cable right now for no reason. Everything you are feeling echoes here. I can see the frustration and fear. Of that blurry tomorrow [….] You need to ask yourself: ‘How do I inspire people to open their minds to the complexity of my own, so they can realize its simplicity?’ Do you understand, Stef?”
Do we all understand, or is it a long lasting complexity of comprehension?
There is much to be said – and done. There is a graphic novel approaching… for that matter..
Not too long ago on 5th Avenue… (October 14th, 2013):
Many times, a wandering soul will gain personal momentary comfort from the well-spoken hypothesis that it is indeed good to be lost and undecided in settled knowledge of the future, because all interesting souls have traced similar paths, and unsettling spirits must experience unsettling situations to feel the proper ecstasy required for top-notch work and high-end productivity.
The process is indeed, torturous. Lost amidst the high-rises of fragmented obstacles, and looking for that polygon of fresh air, in-between the upwards looking of heavenly gaps – it is the act of looking up towards the sky within the chaos of a foreign 5th Avenue, where the ground-view shot is a totally different story than the angled shooting towards the lower atmospheric pressures. Sometimes, it makes me wonder, how interesting the topic of “public open urban sky” would be; here, you never get one honest view of the whole, but bits and pieces of sky, discovered unexpectedly in different shapes and with different tones of tightening. One cannot claim this to be beautifully organic, but only nightmare-mysterious. It’s because you cannot grasp the interior function of every single building layer, and because the sky is not a true umbrella to your head. Reality is scattered in pieces, and it would take only a desensitized machine to feel comfortable and belonging. Or one who loves puzzles that have never been touched in order to be completed. Unless life is the analogy of a jenga game, and then everything starts to form some senseless logic.
Is this why every man, at some point in his life, needs to pass through and live in this city? To understand what? That happiness remains a non-true reality that may be ‘illusioned’ only through vertical protrusions towards the skies? To feel higher and greater than what a single individual is truly worth? Is it really all about collective power and the sociological mission towards cultural excellence on specific projects and tasks? Too massive. Too much invisibility going on…