I had a glorious dream this morning in which I found a cabinet full of the perfect blue Bic ballpoint pens.
I found a store that had perfect sweatshirts and sweatpants in perfect shades of washed black.
Complaints that everyone can relate to
Don’t you hate it when on a Friday night, you’re impatiently and simultaneously hustling someone (anyone) to go with you to a musical tomorrow night on the theme of the absurdity of the SF tech scene, but no one from your mansion, including your previous housemate who moved out because he bought his own mansion, wants to go?
memories of petrichor
breaking up
the thing about breakups is that it takes time.
the feeling of their feelings, the notion of touch, that your heartbeats were in sync. for years. for years.
the books that you gave them that they never read. that you asked them, too much, to extend themselves for your growth, which is bell hooks’ love, which at last, they did not do. that you changed for them, because they asked you to, they asked you to love them, so you did, and they do not see it, will not see it. that you want to tell them things, but cannot predict if they want to hear it, if they want to understand it.
all those angers, still.
you can never let them go.
it is not about you letting them go.
it is about them going from you.
a breakup is always ripping, shrieking you to shreds, shells.
but healing, healing is not wise, nor is it elegant.
healing is NOT about the going through.
healing is NOT about what you learned.
healing is about forgetting.
healing is about those infinite,
endless impressions,
ending.
memories, fading.
like those things were never there.
like you DIDN’T learn those things.
what things?
like your favorite thing that you lost, and at first, anguished, but months later, moments in which you don’t think about it.
moments, in which you are no longer screaming.
completing the LOSS, is what is healing.
and finally, finally, becoming glad, that this is a now-gray, now-shapeless, now-unfindable collection of not-even-memories and not-even-stories.
grateful, for it to be gone, gone from you, irrecoverable.
and you finally, finally, no longer even want it, it is tattered, undesirable.
it will go from you.
it will go from you.
and, then. then, you will be free.
q 4 u
what makes your heart thumping like a vacant nobody in the sky?
all things are a magical dream
brainrows
i’ve never before seen a rainbow so huge,
whilst walking towards it, dissolving.
i blink, not believing my eyes,
from around the trees, i now can see,
now it’s gone.
the place to be
is where it’s easy,
to rile people up.
use
the rhetoric of transformation.
change is nigh,
we make it move.
a place where
the cars drive themselves,
the grass is plenty,
and water’s running out.
When looking at the thrumness of all things
the way all matter buzzes,
with static energy.
the potential of all things:
VASTNESS.
ISNESS~
sometimes, a joy boundless.
today, fear.
when everything around me thrums,
it is so large,
so big,
so huge,
i can’t even.
What if novels were like software?
What if novels were like software?
By novel, I mean a work of creative fiction that you write, that you want people to read and like.
You could write something kinda crappy, and release it.
Your friends and family would read it. They would offer suggestions. If it’s good enough, other people you don’t know might read it. They would have thoughts and feedback.
You would learn what most people like about it.
You would learn what most people don’t like about it.
If you find a bunch of people complaining that a character was racist or sexist, you would know that that was a bug in your novel.
You would get all this feedback from “the market” about what “they really want” from your “product”.
You could then create a backlog of feedback.
Then, you could prioritize your backlog.
Then, you could start planning future “releases” of your novel, with a less sexist character, or a less racist plot arc, or more impactful scene-setting, or prettier language.
Then you could “release” versions of your novel “iteratively”. Like software.
By the time a year goes by, you could have created something that more people like. Readers who already read your book might be curious to read it again, to see what changed. The rate of new readers interested in reading your book would increase, because the book will have gotten better. You could keep iterating on your novel until it was just so fantastic. And then, you will have ended up authoring a great novel — not all at once in one fell swoop, but over time, using readers’ feedback to make it perfect.
The contemporary literature landscape would have so many beautiful and perfect works of art.
What if this worked for not just novels, but non-fiction?
What if this worked for not just non-fiction, but all writing?
What if this worked for scientific articles? Research papers? Journalism?
What if this worked for sculptures? All Art? Relationships? Concepts? Everything?
What if there was always a mindset that allowed for the first thing that is born into the world to be grossly imperfect, and processes to allow it to become better and better and even great?
This assumes, of course, standards for what makes writing, and just things, good or bad. But the newness of this concept, for me, is the ability to get something “out to the market” like what startups are always talking about. And allow it to exist, seen and touched even though you, the creator, knows there are things you didn’t get “right”. Create something full of what you think are mistakes, but find out from exposure to feedback which ones are really what people care about, and which ones you’d like to fix. Maybe some of the things you think are mistakes are things that a lot of people actually like!
That could be cool, I think! Maybe it would motivate many more people to try their hand at all creative endeavors. The expectation to come out with something “really good” on the first try would not exist! Less pressure, more art, and outputs that are always getting better!
This kinda already happens a little with things like corrections to an article or new versions of textbooks. But not with novels and stuff, that I’ve seen. I kinda wanna do this now with everything I create 🙂
lirbja 