(no subject)
Read over a few bookmarked entries. I've been here for a while, in the good sense. Mentally, you know...or whatever. Within a stasis, though, there is still the steady flow upward or roundward. Directions don't necessarily matter. Or exist. Not really. To you, I exist only as a memory, so I'm only an idea you have. I understand now why it's hard for most people to treat me like a human being. You can only see me as an idea, so you talk to me like you're talking to the memory you have of me when I reacted some way and you're constantly going to respond to a basic assumption you've formed. But I'm not that. Like Grant Morrison said, "Everything you think I am, that's exactly what I'm not." Something along those lines. I'm not going on about how you don't know me and how you can never know me, because that's understood by now. What I'm trying to say is simply, I've been here for a while, and I'll be here for a while, and I don't have any fantasies about climbing the ladder--hold on, I'm getting self-righteous, however impossible that is. What I'm really doing is forgetting. A temporary lapse brought on by a moment of inspiration. A lot of good art comes out of self-indulgent tangents. You know, most solo careers are good examples. Do you follow any of this? Have you thoughtt, "What the hell is James on" yet? Do you think me crazy? Asking such questions of you implies that on some level or another I desire you to think me a little off or crazy or whatever because it gives me a false sense of entitlement, but I don't think that's what this is about. But what do I know? Especially in the latter half of this entry as its turning more and more into a self-indulgent, what's the word, peroration?