You can't want fame. You have to just enjoy whatever it is you're doing.

You can't want recognition. You must just do it because you enjoy it and it's a good thing to be doing.

Negative reinforcement and positive reinforcement both reduce motivation, or so I read in Irrationality by Stuart...

You have to enjoy it. You can't want to just successfully make something passable. You have to make something you enjoy making.

Can't want to reach a certain level and have your eyes focused on that. Have to enjoy right now. No willpower. Never works for long anyway. But, whether or not one could eventually go from willpower to enjoyment, it's just WRONG during the willpower stage. Perhaps if it leads eventually to immediate long term enjoyment. But, should be understood it's not the permanent stage. It's not willpower, willpower-fame. It's enjoyment, enjoyment-enjoyment.

It has to be about Right Now.

"to pierce the obscurity of the minute processes at the center of human life." At each moment. Right now. No just getting to the next point. No random pointlessness.

But of the random, the endless random which permeates all, all creativity and everything else, there can good. I say 'random pointlessness' and to avoid it, as opposed to random pointfullness and the possibility that it's somewhat worthwhile, here in this world were it may seem as if it's no longer too late, but really it was always already too late. And so the enjoyment of the sound of the cello, out of tune, wavering notes. And the randomness of the story. The endless paths, some worse than others, never the perfect path taken, always some degree of mistake as one travels the randomness. But not pointless. The simple enjoyment of the tones good and bad, parts of the story less and more worthwhile, in this world where it's always already too late. No time but for myopic simple pleasures.

Mostly though just sick of my voice, or this voice anyway, yet still want to write.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G1_E6pHa3hc
What happened to the good music?!!

(Puberty most likely quit happening. But the music corporation monopoly is increasing....)

--

Figured out a way to apply composing music to writing. In music instead of trying to write that perfect song that will change the world, that will make me famous. Instead of going down that kind of sick industrialized road where there's one artist for hundreds of thousands or millions I've somewhat embraced the random.

The random as opposed to this nebulous word: 'creativity'. Maybe the two can be thought of as opposities. A story, a musical track, the notes, the elements can seem relatively random or they can seem to be the perfect thing which brings it all together in such a useful way.

My music is held back because of worrying about the random. Drums especially. Why am I changing the drums here? Why not just the same repetitive beat the whole way? I'm just randomly making a change.

With the knowledge a thing is totally mindless, totally random, I hold back from bothering. The same issues arises in writing stories except worse. There are so many possibilites. It can't be helped that something random is going on to some extent.

The way forward with music has been simple curiousity. How would certain relatively random elements sound when put together?

Then of course to some extent it's not just random. Things do 'fit' together.

And this curiosity is a short term immediate reward. And there must be an immediate reward.

Same idea holds with writing. Embrace some level of the random. Just be curious about combining certain elements while looking for an immediate reward.

--

I got the swine flu vaccination and the influenza one. Very conflicted about such thiings. Modern medicine is so often just wrong. My sister got the swine flu vaccine and missed a couple days work she was so sick. My coworker also got pretty sick. I got it this morning at 8AM and then slept till now. It's affecting my hands. They're very slightly uncontrollably shaking. Hard to type. Almost like a neuropathy. Like a bad reaction... Oh well. I deserve Indian food today.

Same song as before but fixed up.

I was kaput yesterday.

I wonder if my not wanting to spend multiple days writing a song is from a fear of failure? I have a book lying somewhere in this house by a psychiatrist who specializes in creativity and he's primarily all about fear of failure. I think he even went so far as to divide things up into 7 different kinds of fear of failure that you have to try to constantly overcome. I do try to write music, so in a way I've overcome fear of failure. But perhaps not trying too hard is fear of failure rearing it's head in the distance yet again. A foe like a necromanisized(sp) zombie that you keep killing and killing and it just keeps coming back to life.

Probably the name I gave the song (Once built, forever destroyed) game me the impetus to go back and fix it up. There was a part in the middle where I actually wasn't even on the beat! Plus the ending wasn't any good. Added some notes and put in a trumpet. Still the nuance of the trumpet isn't so great. But I can stand this version. It's now not quite such a testament to what a failure I forever am.

Now I've two other creative mediums I haven't really started in because of fear of failure. And, it's not so simple as saying, "Oh, I just fear failure. Well then, I'll quit doing that and get along with things!" It's not so simple in that we do have to try to assess whether or not we'll be successful at something to determine what's the best direction to take...

...I labeled this 'free jazz' because I don't really know anything about genres.

...William Golding is a helluva a guy but, if I were him I never would have bothered to write a book. I mean, even if I knew the end result was a nobel prize in literature plus the fact he was talking so much about the sorts of things I care so much about in a manner that usually gets labeled preachy... still, this song seems more worthwhile to me. Which, what does that mean?

The people around me have no real value of knowledge. Books, learning, they don't matter. In my real world I don't know anyone at all who gives a flying whoop about William Golding. I think I've been influenced to some extent by the people I've been around. Perhaps if I'd been born at... the Great Party as some relatively wonderful person recently typed... born around people who cared about such stuff, sat around and talked about it, etc. Drank cappuchinos while they blogged at Starbucks or whatever. As things are though it would require an amazing bit of creativity for me to become a writer.

Not in the creating the writing, but in creating/pretending I lived in a world where people actually cared about such stuff.

Oh yes, that was the point of this blog. Imaginary eyes that actually give a damm.

Hmmm, article of faith number two...

I prefer creativity which has an interactive quality to it; where one is sort of experimenting, not really knowing what the outcome will actually be (at least not entirely...). With music one can imagine music in their head but with playing an actual instrument there is a degree of flexibility where one must work with the instrument and let it 'speak' to them. The same still with simply programming music on a computer. Certainly with multiple tracks and endless virtual synthesizers but even with just a plain piano track where you're slowly working your way along, looping bits as you inch forward. How does this sound...? How about that...?

But then I recall some guy who makes a living composing classical saying he has to hear it all in his head. There doesn't appear to be anything interactive in doing that. And then there's writing. It doesn't seem to very interactive.

Both appear to just be trying to painstakingly reproduce something that is already in one's head. And that just doesn't strike me as fun.

Or I could say it doesn't strike me as interesting. It's all just me. There's nothing I'm interacting with which is showing me things, such as an instrument or VSTs/music sequencer.

Each time I bother to write a song there is an essential curiousity at work; thanks to the feeling that I'm interacting with something which may show me interesting things.

I on the other hand have lots of music in my head. But I'm finding that for the most part, to the extent it sits already completed in my head, I've no interest in successfully bringing that music into the real world.

It's already in my head. Such a process would just be frustrating (full of failure) combined with not interesting. As there'd be nothing actually learned by just pulling it out of my head exactly as it is. (And to the extent I don't pull it out exactly then it seems like failure.)

Oh well there's other ways to think of this.

I'm lately motivated to possibly... probably try a new medium. Some sort of creating of a virtual reality. In part thanks to Rideflame. But here I see, the same as with fiction writing, the problem of a lack of interaction. Instead just painstakingly creating what's in my head.

People say that writing is a process of discovery and/or that they think through a problem themselves through writing a story. But it seems such a strange way to go about working through problems.

Almost the equivalent of someone rocking back and forth for the reassuring quality of it (back to the womb). So then the story form has a reassuring, calming quality to it. And maybe is a pulling back to a psuedo objectivity.

Or I don't know? Really I don't understand it. If I want to think about something I just think about it. Thinking about it in terms of a story is no good as there is so much about stories which are false in order to appeal to man's innate primal nature.

Eh, I don't know.

Would be nice though if writing, etc, mediums other than just music felt interactive as opposed to just being attempts to reproduce something in my mind exactly as it is.

There is additionally being able to listen to music, whereas... one maybe isn't going to be rereading their books, for example. I guess a little time may be spent rereading a finished book, but really not much. Too much would just be very weird ultimately. Whereas one can play music in the background without totally concentrating on it in order to create a mood.

..I'm trying to use my productivity in music to find a way forward into other mediums.

Just rambling really though.

It seems for other mediums the way forward is thinking in terms of a type of coping. And perhaps solidfying the coping to be used through writing it down. For possibly doing mapping...? I'm not sure. Was thinking very much in terms of a... 'coping'. And maybe the term 'coping' doesn't entirely make sense. One could say everything is coping. Eating, exercising, etc. In the virtual reality/mapping one can have music also. But then the question is: to what extent is one going to return to what one has created?

Is it solidfying a coping mechanism? (Like future fiction writing might perhaps be for me.)
Or is it like writing music?

http://k-punk.abstractdynamics.org/archives/011182.html
I would agree that they pose a threat to themselves, but in some ways they are more toxic to those with projects than the trolls. It's quite easy to identify and distance oneself from a troll: once you've established they are a troll, sever all contact with them and - this is imperative - don't read anything they write. This requires a little discipline, but not much, and after a while you'll completely forget the upset they caused. For what is usually a very short period, trolls cause a great deal of incendiary, fruitless antagonism, but it seldom leaves much of a lasting trace. The final victory over them is achieved by simply persisting in the pursuit of a project, refusing to allow yourself to be ensnared in the self-doubts and impotent autocritique that disables them and which they seek to transmit to you.

I find this a strange way of talking. I can understand the idea of a troll just wasting your time. But ultimately it's good to have some kind of an answer to all criticisms. This instead almost seems to be espousing the necessity of being closeminded in some respects in order to just do something instead of doing nothing. One could read it actually as being an example of downright comical closedmindedness.

OTOH I do see the possibility of losing one's creative spark as a result of getting in mind some negative audience that no matter what is going to just tear down whatever you say.

I have thought of this before how this idea of an audience, this idea of finding ways to continue wanting to be creative can tie into actions that end up appearing closeminded. A most obvious example being I've the comments closed in this blog. As does this fellow, who though isn't out stranded in the dark like me. Unlike me, he matters. He's a part of academia and has endless important conversations with others about philosophical matters. I feel slightly jealous. And then furthermore there's Schopenhauer's comment about the cuttle fish (fortified by my own obscurity) which I usually have in mind when reading most of these philosophers...

Still trying to figure out what to make of supervalent thought's blog. I like the subject matter but 'cinematically mediated queers'?? You mean gay people on TV? I think I'll just learn the lingo (and thus eventually not notice how incomprehensible to the average person it appears) before I come to a conclusion as to whether or not this is a valid example of 'writing beautifully' or some kind of pretentious, dishonest behavior...

So then there's the question of asking supervalent thought her thoughts on writing beautifully while not being comprehendable by 98% of people while talking about an important subject. Asking such a question then of her or just stating my annoyance for how hard she makes it to understand easy concepts, either way I can be labeled a troll.

But I shouldn't be. She ought to be able to have an answer. Probably she doesn't and I won't even bother of course as the possibility for it to be considered a negative thing is too great. But she ought to have an answer. I ought to be able to ask and get an answer instead of being stuck trying to reinvent the metaphorical wheel and figure out entirely on my own which is the correct way to write ("beautifully" or in a way that people can easily understand). Well, it's seems a silly question, surely one should try to be easy to understand? Maybe if it's just some escapist fun one can enjoy writing with a flair for language, but she's talking about suicide; I'd assume because she actually cares about people unfortunately committing suicide.

Me pointing out such a criticism would though just be thought of as being stifling to her creativity most likely and I'd be dismissed as just a troll.

About this blog

This blog was originally an experiment in creativity.

Personal experiments can be comically painful things. Not only in failing spectacularly but also in that it can end up appearing the experimenter must be a nutter, as they may be doing something other than just conforming.

I can conform quite well, but I recognize all too well when I'm just mindlessly conforming and as I look at the world it seems I'm correct in believing I should be questioning everything.

So this blog started as an experiment but is multiple things and slowly changes from day to day in terms of tone and level of conformity and what I'm experimenting with, etc. The original experiment had to do with something Milan Kundera mentioned: the concept of imaginary eyes. He claims that everyone has imaginary eyes upon them. He said you could be imagining the whole world, or a group of friends or your lover or, rarest of all, an imaginary person. You imagine these eyes are watching you. You can pretend to talk to them. They care about your life. They make you feel not so alone, etc.

Kundera didn't mention it but I wonder if some people's imaginary eyes are 'god'. I also wonder if all people actually have imaginary eyes. I've asked around and of course people claim they don't. But all of us hardly understand what's going on within us a good part of the time, so unfortunately all the time people will adamently claim things that aren't necessarily true. I think that most of us sometimes do and sometimes don't feel as if we have imaginary eyes on us. Not literally, not paranoid schizophrenia, but often just in terms of a separate part of us that is constantly reassessing our actions. But that often we hardly notice as being something separate. I think perhaps the ability to cry takes a belief, on some level, that someone is watching, someone is at least present who could potentially care; as crying is the form of unhappiness (sadness) where we are appealing for help.

This blog was originally, primarily, an attempt to cultivate the eyes of an imaginary person upon me whom even if I haphazardly write something down that isn't well explained, they'll understand and be interested in it. This as opposed to microsoft word where it at least used to be that I imagined I was utterly alone and who really cared? In the beginning this stifled my creativity. I needed to imagine someone was listening.

Why not just have real live people who actually are listening? Unfortunately one can rarely be totally honest then. And one has to constantly worry about being misunderstood.

So first and foremost that was the original point of this blog. Imaginary eyes or an imaginary muse to get my creativity going, to start actually producing something. With a long term goal of writing fiction, etc...

Secondly, or just the first point expressed somewhat differently, this is something to try to help me avoid writer's block and to just remember all the endless little more or less original things I've thought up. (Not necessarily anything that is truly original, but things that I reinvented I suppose.) I really like the labels/key terms function. It's nice to be able to scroll down through the words and quickly remember concepts and be able to click and immediately all the stuff I've written on such and such is compiled.

Thirdly this is a sort of diary. The idea of going through life and just forgetting pretty much everything I've thought and been bothers me. Forgetting is a sort of death. But I've never been able to keep a normal diary. I can never stand to go back and read what I've written in the past. Can never stand my previous stupidity and feeling so sorry for that unsuspecting person about to get blindsided by such and such future disasters... I find it works better here.

4. I can conform. I can act normal. I can be relatively happy in the real world. But I'm not ....much worried about doing such things here. Here I am purposely trying to find fault with society. Trying to figure out better ways to live, etc. Reinventing the metaphorical wheel. I am looking at unhappiness. I can be happy but I purposely try to spend much time focused on problems/unhappiness as a result of my ethical code.

The name of this blog, the too far future, refers to the most essential quality of humans in determining how they act, that being the degree to which they are short term or long term thinkers. The more long term you are, the more you 'waste' your time being altruistic, not turning away from unhappiness; the more time you spend thinking about things for which there probably won't be found any solution in your lifetime.

The picture at top was painted by Van Gogh two days before he killed himself. I think that if we truly and utterly break free of all conformity, truly and utterly quit finding ways to mentally frame things so that we'll feel happy, and instead look at the world 'objectively' it is really kind of awful. Understand though, that the understanding of this awfulness is not strong at all in my mind. Weak enough that at times I feel I really need to be reminded of it by doing things like posting Van Gogh's last painting.

Why oh why would I torture myself so?

Because someone ought to. Someone needs to check out that other barely discernible path. Maybe it leads somewhere better?

5. I leave the comments closed because I don't want my creativity stifled by having to worry about the endless obvious points I'm not having time or remembering to mention here. Again, I'm trying to be critical. I don't really need to worry about some person taking issue with my criticisms. This doesn't mean I'm a closeminded person. I love to be told I'm wrong but this here is the formative stage of creativity where criticisms get in the way. As time passes I may eventually post less and less often here (and get more into actual fiction writing) and then when I do bother to post it may be more well thought out and perhaps some day I'd even open up comments.

Also comments open would really wreck havoc on the whole imaginary eyes/muse concept.

6. People I communicate with who know of this blog,
Please, please don't assume what I write here has anything to do with you. In fact if I say something negative about some anonymous person in this blog, you can basically be certain it isn't about you. Even when I say negative things about any other people by the way, I always believe they can change, and although at times I've vented, in the real world there is no person I hate. None at all. I recognize we are all imperfect but all capable of change.

Also please, please don't think my reason for communicating with you is necessarily related at all to the purposes of this blog. Whatever communications I've done that have been tied (linked back) to this blog, have been just to be nice, etc. Me just following my ethical code and/or finding people I'd want to be friends with/see such as possible..., etc. (Or really wanting to ask a question and not having a better way to do it.) Although as far as making friends, I really think this blog would unfortunately scare off all but the most intelligent.

So then, that one 'smearer' at work. I don't think of either as 'smearers' for starters. That was just as opposed to her actual name. What other defining characteristics does she have? She's I'd guess 5'10" 260 and holds her weight remarkably well. If only she'd been a man surely she would have been great at football

Anyway, a number of nurses were complaining/smearing her behind her back. A few decided to have a talk with her. Then in turn she later complains/smears to a couple people about those two who talked to her. I happened to be in the room at this time and she asks me my opinion of her.

My actual opinion is far more complex then what I put down in this blog.

I do think she is similar to me in having a problem with her sense of humor. It's a problem in that it's a little bit outside the majority's sense of humor. What's unexpectedly wrong is funny. For her it's unexpectedly wrong to have a bit of a go at people. To constantly criticize their work performance, etc. And she's been living it up at work recently in this respect to the extent a few other people (both more experienced nurses) took her aside.

So I attempted to answer her by first praising how much fun she is compared to others and then what little I was critical about I attempted to more direct it at me, just suggesting she slightly shared a trait I had and one had to be careful with some people about being misunderstood.

All the same she continued (before this time) to put me down at work all day. Was she just kidding? The end result is to make it look that I'm incompetent. It's the bad humor of an angel (when I do it anyway and I'll suppose her also.) To such angels it is unexpectedly wrong to really be having any kind of a go at others, etc. To 'normal' people: what the heck? Why are you bullying me, etc?
-
...But the Fake Smile ties into pretending in general to be happy. If two or more people do so with one another the feedback can make the happiness 'real'.

And then a movie such as Life is Beautiful.

It is a pretending. And pretending, of course, isn't always a bad thing.

It is moral to pretend certain sufferings don't exist?

This pretend happiness is kitsch. Is kitsch always such a bad thing?

When the suffering can't be changed, perhaps the best thing to do is go off into one fantasy or another. But how can you know for sure if it can't be changed? You can't. Ideally a certain minority of the populace should think ALL the suffering can be solved. While the majority ignores certain sufferings.... The minority should do so to the extent they can stand it.

This only works in a nondystopia. Problem in this actual world is the slavemasters attack that minority as they're giving their solutions. And everyone else is too clueless to realize it thanks to their general ignorance of the suffering/problems.

What delusion, if any, should we all believe?

Depends on how long term or short them our thinking.
Depends on our level of intelligence and creativity how much of a delusion we can manage. But then with more intelligence it's more possible to successfully just face the suffering.

The very pretending, while a meagre short term solution, can it lead to something more meaningful long term?

Fakish happiness with 'friends'. Fun times, etc. Then disaster. And stony silence. 'Friends' disappear.

You've passed behind the curtain of suffering and must be ignored. You should ignore yourself. Certainly should have enough consideration to keep quiet...

-
-Those who HAD to pretend but their situation has changed and unfortunately it's become habit.
-Society ruled by sadistic tyrant. Extreme kitsch art is the rule. Exaggerated happiness in hell. Pen ran out of ink...

Do I think better, worse, or the same at end of 33 hours of work out of 40? Surely I don't think as well but may feel bad enough that creativity might be more turned on.

For the hell of it I made a few final changes and tried to connect the cheap laptop again and what the heck, it worked. I kind of wish it would quit occasionally working so I could just get a new laptop...

---
The Godfathers (Birth, School, Work, Death)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t2SLs7EWyIk
Heard just the last minute of this on the radio (internet radio, regular monopoly radio wouldn't play this) and I liked it. Hearing the whole song lessens it. I think it would sound better to just repeat the chorus over and over again. Maybe a guitar solo and that's it. Just get rid of the verses. I wish I could forget I'd heard the rest and instead vaguely imagine the rest of the song sounding the way I wish it did. Also could do without the images...

People make too big a deal about repetition being some kind of negative thing in music. In real life our moods don't change 8 times in 3 minutes. Simplistic loops are underrated. Being nonrepetitious just for the sake of not being repetitious is just no good. Even on the rare occasion you do successfully find something that actually really works, there's still the knowledge that the process was wrong.

This isn't to say I only like repetitious music. I have an ideal of something more which I've barely attempted yet. An ideal of being very symbolic instead of the "duh, it sounds good" usual process of music writing. What's held me back is first off, you can't manage it using presets. I'm about there now where I don't need them. About time to make a better effort I guess.

Then there is this:

I'm reminded of Brian Eno talking about recording some traffic noise and how even that, if you listen to it over and over again, your mind starts to wait for that jake brake, etc and it has a musical quality in that sense.

And so something like this on a single listen just seems entirely random. But you listen to it over and over again and it starts sounding pretty good.

...I wonder though if it's a trick. That I can just get the exact same effect with a 10 second repeating loop just by doing a good job at forgetting...

I wonder if there's some self deception going on with writing such music...? That on an initial listen it seems so random. Must one pretend otherwise to bother writing such a thing while waiting till like the jake brake it starts making some weird kind of ritual sense...?

It can be done though symbolically. Helped along by having good samples and knowing how to make sounds with some good synths. Although I think the symbols must be kind of crude and must still end up relying on some randomness. Not sure how far it can be taken. Simplistic mood loops might still win out.

But there is again a contradiction and it's a part of the same contradiction. Not concealing certain things can hurt creativity. And I like creativity/art... Such things I think are essential. Much like ultimately believing in infinite existence is essential. That also is basically believing a lie.

So again, there is the search for truth and being perfectly logically, being honest with others in practicing the golden rule; such things as I want, contradicted by the understanding it is essential to not be totally logically as we can't actually truly handle absolute truth and thus we must believe the lies within creativity/art and thus sometimes concealing the truth is for the best.

So again, this is a contradiction I haven't found a way to unravel. And so I appear a hypocrite and I contradict myself.

....At the moment when I quit being aware of myself, when the conscious loses focus, when I start really falling asleep; at that moment my creativity really wakes up. Music starts playing.... Last night I went to the UK for just one second. I know it was the UK. The foilage was right. The smells were right. I'm partially colorblind and have almost no sense of smell but Here such things work like they could. I Know. Perhaps like Shirley Maclaine, haha, I know.

And here there is at least one person that I sense. That I've always sensed. I don't actually really know who. But I sense their consciousness/unconsciousness; their existence. And it is such a wonderful thing.

All for one second.

If it was an hour or a lifetime, my god, what a world that would be.

But after one second my conscious noticed what was going on and said, "Hey! Cool!" And it went away.

And then I let lose a single tear in that I had gone quite a while without this feeling. And that furthermore I think eventually it will be gone for good. That may have been the very last time for all I know... Perhaps I'm just getting old. Perhaps I'm surrounded by the wrong sorts of people. But what I know for sure; there is a "forbidden" knowledge here which I think is hurting... killing my creativity.

Very similar to my conscious looking at what I'm "thinking", to me waking back up. Very similarly the magic is dying. Maybe I shouldn't even talk of it.

The mystery writing gimmick taken to the ridiculous:
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB122489468502968839.html?mod=googlenews_wsj
Not using quotes to designate that which is spoken outloud.

-----

lockedupwv.com

Unfortunately all the criminal pictures aren't online. A copy of the whole thing was at work. Such beautiful people. Their stories are almost leaping off of their mug shot photos. The pedophile page was the least interesting by far. The others would be very useful for sparking writing.

----

Got a cute picture of one of my cat shelters in use. But then he didn't eat his food at all last night and isn't around today. And it looks like big dog footprints in the snow around his shelter. Or is it just the melting snow making his feet look bigger?

I enjoy worrying about this cat. Reminds me of my old (artificial) pond at my last house. Twas so beautiful. 60 colorful large fish (reproduced over three years) that I fed two or three times a day and helped pushed me to wonderful veganism. (To just lay in the swing and read Proust...) But my one partially crippled (wobbly) cat fell in and ripped the liner thus I came out one day and the water level was a foot down! With much work I fixed it but then ever after (till we moved and the person who bought it had the beautiful pond filled in) I had endless "nightmares" about leaky ponds with fish flapping around as they die on the empty bottom. But, with each dream I created a beautiful pond. 50 level ponds with waterfalls, crazy aqueducts systems, etc. Such beautiful dreams, well worth the worry.

Had a great nightmare last night which I can't remember now... Oh yes, didn't finish some crucial school assignment and was thus ruined forever and ever. Before that a vampire nightmare due to my wife's reading that new low brow vampire series.

Yesterday was crazy. Scary hour drive to work through bad snow covered roads. Running in to clock in just in time and pulled to bone marrow for 4 hours, then pulled elsewhere for another 4 hours, then finally back to normal workplace for 4 hours, then boss gives yearly job evaluation, (I hate 'The Boss' just as a matter of principle... but she's so likable and kind of sexy... and knows stuff like Klinger's hometown baseball team... and likes me) then an online quiz at home all in a nice little 17 hour day. Finished off with a nightmare about my life being ruined.

And... my eye has been twitching for the last month and is just getting worse. Just staying in a permanent twitch at times now.

I want to create a beautiful world in my mind. A world/universe that contains a people whom aren't tied to the harmful things us humans are held down by. To make it actual stories they'll need negative things to overcome. And I suppose that is life. That is, The Thing. The funny thing about why I haven't managed as a writer. Hmmm, I don't enjoy creating obstacles that must be overcome.

I want to create this world to strengthen my own faith in magic. Because I know when I personally create it, it is (or at least, it really can be) a bit more real than when someone else did...

But to make it an actual story; ugly, stupid, tedious stuff it seems has to be thrown in. "Evil" people and so on. Plots held together by people acting stupidly. People striving after unimportant goals.

Tomorrow I want to list a bunch of my favorite books and try (yet again) to think of a single one that if it were me I could see any way I would have enjoyed writing it. I mean this, in terms of the plot.

The Demon Princes-find and get revenge (yet without the nasty ugly emotions that should actually naturally go along with such an endeavor, but it seems being unrealistic is so often essential... and how do I feel about that? Doesn't make it real. What has been real to me has been pitiful fragments within barely begun stories. Perhaps successful stories wouldn't feel so real...)

The whole traveling across the land thing for whatever reason and running into people wishing harm, etc. So aimless and random. As creativity is. It's the ugly truth of so much creativity. (Such fun to pretend at least dreams have real meaning.) But within the random there is meaning. It's in there. Often hiding. But you throw down the tea leaves and they do show you something of another place...

(I should do some music loop mangling. Figured it would feel way too random for my tastes but as I've just said...)

The story can move along (somewhat) randomly and become much more. There is nothing wrong with the random. It is essential. There isn't actually any escaping it. No successful artist has ever not been quite random. Spin and spin and spin the wheel... and then eventually... I hate to say it. Bring back order I suppose. Randomness to give faith... Then pretend it's not random. That within this randomness lurks "divine" inspiration that must just be found afterwards.

So silly. But if faith in magic is the goal. And I want to be creative for that purpose. And I actually see creativity as doing random stuff then finding order.... Then it's 3AM and I'll think later about this.

Seems to come down to tricking myself. But really, that should go without saying from the start. But I have to do it in a convoluted way as I can't manage it straight on.

It simply must be done. I must trick myself?

I suppose like a suduko puzzle where you have no choice but to guess a few numbers. Then you see if you were right. In this way we pull back a curtain (a different curtain) to reveal a magical world. We won't reveal it perfectly. As the music doesn't reveal it perfectly. But within the randomness something is revealed.

Randomness plus ordering ("creativity") for the purpose of revealing a magical world that is otherwise forever invisible....