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Aphantasia

It’s day 16 of the rewrites.


What I wrote yesterday and three days ago contradict each other. I complained about how hard it is to write in a short period of time. Then I complained about how easy it is to come up with gibberish.

Writing is staking a position. But one cannot be sure the position one puts one’s stake in is the position one always wants to be in. With writing, we leave artifacts purporting certain thoughts to be so for all time. We record as if we would always hold true what we wrote and always will. This baggage attached to changing one’s mind is one of the reasons why writing is hard.

Yet most great writing is a declaration of certainty. Everything always changes, increasing the rarity of anything that appears permanent. It doesn’t matter if the appearance is an illusion. People cherish and yearn for any semblance of certainty. It’s a natural byproduct of the passage of time.

Also, writing is judgy. Our words betray our values. When we say anything about anything else, we expose to the world what’s important to us. In doing so, we cannot avoid contrasting our values to that of others. Differences in underlying rarities and abundances from which our values arise show up. Inevitable second order evaluation of others ensue.

I have cut my allotted time for this excretory exercise by half. It feels better this way. Enough for today.


There’s nothing like explaining why one’s writing suck through writing.

Some things I noticed 02/09/2020:
  1. Multiplication by halving and doubling
  2. A gentle ribbing was mandatory” – random comment pointing out the use of electric guitar in a supposedly acoustic cover
  3. How to cut a vinyl record master
  4. Jesus Came To My Birthday Party
  5. I am now even more bummed out about this instance of existence I call mine. Of course.

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