We chase the most interesting type of bullshit. The imagination lights up like a Christmas tree when the immediate world dissipates around us, and the imaginary takes the primary view.
Listen: taking revenge against reality pays dividends. That is to say, the thoughts tend to come more easily, and the creativity more fun when there’s less external prompting.
Scribbling in the margins possibilities, chasing the irreality, synthesizing doubts and ambitions — that’s where it’s at and where it can be. How one taps into that creative mind place is another measure? The eyestrain induced by overproduction is worse enough.
We contain the energy field by throwing it out of all its closeupness. At the end of the day, we chase the misconfigured algorithms of thought: our own. Real or not, we’re programmed to enjoy novelty anyhow.
So why not recreate that world to rev the engine of weird chords? At certain junctions, conjoining work and play unleashes creativity, synchronizes thoughts, and boosts happiness.
The search for intensity and aliveness — yes, that’s what it was.