Ofttimes I experience a creeping sensation, a need to write "something"
every day, some (un)known entity haunts me
but there’s, in fact, not just one unknown entity but multiple entities fighting over my mind and body. They make me peck my keyboard, manifesting their substance to this world, so others, like you or someone else, would want the same, hence making the entities live through the web of memetic and mimetic impulses. Some of those entities kinder than the others and do care about a chaos child caged inside my physical body, the others… The others just care about sustaining their existence by all means, the chaos child for them is not important.
What do I feel when I click the “New Draft” button? Does one of the entities click it or it’s really me who does? I have an ongoing, endless list of ideas, some of which are substack drafts, some are random notes tagged as #idea in my Notes app, others are stored in a text file separated by triple dashes, a symbol that in Markdown makes a horizontal divider, signifying that those are separate ideas and not a collage or some midnight lunacy. This post, for example, the idea behind it, was that I do not entirely control my decision to write something, especially non-fiction, or rather ONLY non-fiction. With fiction it’s easier, I don’t feel any external pressure to write it, it always comes from deep within, an urge to tell a story, share the experience, emotions, feelings, play out a prank, etm. It never feels forced, by which I mean there’s no creeping sensation to write “something”, for with fiction it’s always clear what to write and it feels like a story is writing itself, as if it’s trying to break free from the darkest dungeon and materialise in written form, in language, so it can be seen and experienced by someone, at least by the one who’s writing it. The story just wants to exist and it understands that to do so requires making friends with me. The only way for it to happen is to collaborate with me, reveal itself, all the twists and turns and emotional triggers, in any order, in any form. I see you story, don’t worry, I just need time to show you to the world.
You know what to do. This button below does not pop up for no reason.
Ofttimes with essays or any non-fiction it feels different. Not today, though — I’m writing this post to reflect on that specific weird sensation, so it is, I believe, dictated by the inner pressure to free a thought of that sensation (it might even feel more like a journal entry rather than a proper essay) and not to please anyone or to prove something or to be interesting or so simply say “something” because I haven’t said anything considerable in a while publicly. Whenever I “try” to be interesting to someone or please them with my writing, I always fail (an inner sensation, at least), when that someone is not myself. The best way to surprise someone else is to surprise myself first. Nothing else works. Perhaps, in the conscious/unconscious competence/incompetence 2x2 matrix, I’m in the “unconscious competence”1 stage, and often I feel far away from “conscious competence”. Most of my good stories are always chaotic, random, wild, and might not be appealing to others, but they do suprise my chaos child at least, which means they are worth telling.
When I was battling with myself over a need to create / renew this Substack, I was asking a question why I need that? Do I want attention? Do I want to be useful? Do I want to appear interesting to feed my smartarse ego or to feed the feed? Or do I just want to free my thoughts without any want for endorsement of them from the outside world? Why do I need to make it public then and not just leave it as a journal entry? I reckon it’s a “yes” to every question above to a different degree, at least at the moment when the mind is gurgling with conflicting intentions and I feel that creeping sensation, yet retrospectively, answers may vary2. The last question, however, is the one I consider the most relevant an important for this post. Why is this public? Does it allow me to be more honest with myself or, on contrary, less honest? What about others? Am I honest with them?3 I reckon this is public only for one reason — the inner pressure is as powerful as the outer pressure and they continuously try to fuck each other. The inner pressure, every single idea that the chaos child fancies, just like any story, wants to be seen, so it can live. It can exist in different modalities: a thought, a written private thought, a written public thought, a written public thought that managed to sneak into someone’s mind and make ripples there4. Making this stream of consciousness public means giving those thoughts that chance. People would see them, people would “think” them with me, they might even react to them, for a few minutes, we would form a group mind and something magical would happen. For the ideas it might be the only chance for survival, who am I to hinder that? I want to share them, I want to discuss them, so someone in the world who has also been haunted by the same or at least similar ideas would feel heard, too.
Ooops, another one. I’m feeling posessed.
Does the platform I’m publishing on, another, more known entity, dictates my choices: what I write, how I write, and how often I publish? Or are they my own choices? Does it dictate it to everyone else on the platform? When you sign up for something, you sign up literally, you sign a pact, and that pact has a running list of protocols you must follow. The awareness of the existance of such thing is the first step to liberation and transcendence above that entity where it does not influences your choices anymore, at least not
You either think you’re competent or don’t think about it at all. Thinking you’re incompetent leads nowhere. It all starts with a play, when you put a competence mask and act that way. Am I in a mask? Perhaps. Do I care? I don’t, not giving a single fuck.
I wrote “wary” at first. Still not sure which one is correct. Not a single living fuck again.
You will never know the answer of course, consider me an unreliable narrator. Everything you read here is a prank. Neither it is financial, writing, or life advice.
Which one is this? Answer in the comments. Let’s boost the engagement. FEED THE FEED.