This was 16 years, 17 days ago

Just before I sleep! The sudden sensation of a rush and a tumbling, a horizontal vertigo, sideways trails -- these sensations make me wake back up, write these down. All of a sudden in this darkened room: I perceive the visceral sensation of change, like dipping fingers into river water. I like it here; I like it now; things are perfect in this moment.

Is Marcuse correct, and art, literature, music indeed oppressive? what are my orders of discourse? I am cheating by living in the 21st century, reading about post WWI art, post WWII art, vicariously experiencing the shock, distortion, horror, solution of ideology, of progress and change, of a failed suprematism of art according to a hegelian history -- all of this is vicarious, secondary, descriptive, remote, indirect. From the vantage point of my historical position, I cheat. All the while, new media and interaction design passes me by, people write about ludology, gamer theory, new media art, systems of technology. I would like to take part in these narratives, these global narratives. Should I break free from this metanarrative of the global narrative? Where is attempt, solution, ability?

Ultimately (and this is totally outside of theory or philosophy, utilizing my own terminology), everything comes down to the molecular moment, the indestructible event outside of narrativity, everything power-related is determined by the instant. perhaps.

I'm thinking things, I'm re-thinking my own systems of thinking things, thinking about thinking about thinking, epistemologically ouroborotic, curled up in the fetal position sucking at my own bellybutton, wishing for some sort of exit, entrance.

I'm so young. I'm so young, so young, so young. this is good, good, good, good. this will also change so soon, so soon, so soon. Is there any way I can grow younger? Is time really relentlessly operative, are we all growing older? Is this change really a necessity?

at the same time, simultaneously, I can't wait to get older, have hard hearing, realize that my brain is slower, be wiser, more understanding, maybe even have kids, delight at the dexterity of accumulated and cumulative knowledge. I also face this all with utmost dread. right now, the question is the order in which I undergo these operations: do I anticipate, then dread? or do I dread, and then anticipate...