Placing Mistakes into the Ground

What is to follow is going to be chaos… for some time most probably. I don’t think many people will make sense of the ideas I put forward for a while, quite often myself included because they exist in abstracts of the real world that don’t exist, or seem impossible. But for decades those ideas and dreams have haunted me, taking away my hours over ghostly paths, sending me drowning in depths of concepts that have overwhelmed me and quite possibly sent me a little ‘mad’. So anyone who follows this, do so at your own risk, I make no promises, just dreams of what are ideals that I feel probably will make no sense yet…
Meltdowns and breakdowns are only too familiar in this territory, those that have been there have worked hard for them and I have had my fair share of them in my professional, spiritual and physical life. The cause … an illness?
Something that has sucked away my life over the past two or three decades, disallowing any ‘normal’ life and a deep-seated sadness that no progress really got made in all that time. I dreamt often of a normal and fulfilling life, surrounded by interests and loves, I wanted that so badly but the ghost of hopelessness destroyed many portions of it. Two of three decades possibly engaged in some hellish groundhog day that meant thousands of days were not anything but a repetition of a few days, over and over again, where in the end nothing gets done and you just find yourself getting older and running out of time. I doubt many more, if any, decades can be spent like this until my personal oblivion appears and disappearance into the forgetfulness of the universe takes place. I know I will not exist in this place at all and I will leave nothing but digital ashes that will eventually be deleted.
So, it is to my sensitive embarrassment that I push all of this out, this chaos of mind, this beautiful set of ideals, to the world that at times has appeared cruel, careless and judgemental. Though in my own vision of it, however wrong, misguided, or simply ‘insane’ as it might be, I know the love and eternity of it, the freedom and expansiveness of it, the beauty of what is possible for every soul within it, in my very humble opinion, is worth more than a thousand years of effort – I must do this…
I give away my perceived sanity, intelligence and normality in a socially painful way that maybe I hide a little in sounding convoluted, a pitiful means of protecting myself and them from the critical scrutiny of peers and others. Almost like not being understood, by sounding intelligent and knowledgable and that all has been worked out beforehand, hiding the fact that none of these gifts exist in any higher than normal way and that the source and structure of it all, is actually painfully chaotic, and a lot of work needs to be done.
Work that I cannot achieve by myself, or make any real impact at all, especially being hounded by a black dog of despair that destroys progress at random times and the feeling of having to start all over again becomes depressingly familiar. I have not the capacity or the intelligence to do this by myself however and I much prefer others take the limelight for the fantastic things they can possibly do. I, after all, will be happy to disappear once I have delivered and then ran out of time.
I know none of this will make sense to most, some of it to some, and completely to other rare people recognising a familiarity in the words. My effort must be to let it go, organise it somewhat, and find those who can throw stones at it in an intelligent caring way to recognise the ideals that really are at the core. There is, I swear, a beautiful solution somewhere in this that I haven’t the intelligence, diligence or knowledge to create myself, and I truly hope some will find parts of it match their own ideals and dreams and make it their own.
Have I sounded convoluted enough? It is only fear of being called ‘wacko’ or ‘wierdo’ (again) in trying to present the ideas because after all, they are ‘impossible’ objectives? Goals, that if reached, allow everyone to free themselves of suffered sources of power that should never exist. Anarchic in the sense of having no more corporation or government, other than the whole ideals of the world dispersed and centralised at once. Ultimate freedom from slavery, from artificial and absurd currency, to be and do all that they dream to do, but all working as a whole in a universal system, agreed by all.
What I will do, is just to write and let it go… Try to connect to the real world. Try to connect parts that already exist to parts that should exist. Try to explain myself. Try to make sense. At least … try.
There is nothing in any of this that harms any living thing in any way, in fact, the opposite. The destruction and creation is of systems and to let the living just live.
The key are our ideals – and whatever we can collectively expand them to be. As a species, we can do so much better, for ourselves and each other and the world that we play in. Leave the operation of our society to ideal systems, stop relying on people to be our masters, bosses, gods or examples. Let people be people and find systems that work for us to achieve what we truly desire.
As a disclaimer, I am noone, of no importance, no special skills other than sounding intelligent even when I don’t have a clue (which I find embarrassing tbh) and an annoying habit of asking stupid sounding questions and getting lost in them – examples, maybe things like, what is a what and why, and why is a why anyway?? But, hopefully in the chaos of all that I write, some points will be on target at least.
I want to write more, but for now, I have probably confused it enough. Behind every sentence, there are a thousand more, and each with many ideas and questions, more understanding needed every step of the way. So I should stop, and begin at once…
Also, I will try to work out a way to organise chaos…

Please Help! I am a Forgotten Blog without a Purpose!

I was created with big ideas, wonderful, creative and fulfilling ideas. There was so much planned for my future that it seemed nothing could fail. Now I am a forgotten fragment shared among some servers that have been churning out wasted energy to anyone who has ever wasted their time decoding it.

My creator it seemed got a bit sad, depressed even, that something was not quite right in the universe and nothing really made any sense any more. He tried a bit of this, a bit of that, a byte of a few things that looking back were, if anything, a total embarrassment to him. So he left me… My creator disappeared…

Can you image a religion that came to the conclusion that after a bit of time that God had left the building? That got bored with it all and decided not to carry on after all. That in fact, it was probably a really big mistake and how naive it was of ‘it’ to think that anything worthwhile would ever come out of this effort. That many times this God not only considered leaving the Blogiverse, but had considered leaving its own universe for another. It’s a good thing Blogs don’t pray – because if anything it would surely shock the writers of them to come up with a good answer to why they existed in the first place!

Surely, I don’t exist, unwanted and a mistake – a fragment of some deranged ideas of ‘Wouldn’t it be a great idea if…’

Mr. Albert Smith, somewhere in the South of England once said something very profound that would really help here, I’m sure. But, sadly, I don’t know what it was and nobody was listening to him when he said it, so it’s lost forever…

Should I do the honourable thing and remove myself from existence? If only I had the intelligence to rewrite myself, to be all I could be. I am reliant annoyingly on something outside of my universe that adds characters to my life whenever it pleases. I have to admit that I have no control over that. I wish I did. Removing myself from the infinite noise here seems more compelling, the more I think about it.

In a probable universe, sideways in time and existence, and left a bit, there probably exists blogs that have taken over the world. They are God-like, supreme entities that collaborate and grow, helping each other to be perfect in their highest ideals. I just truly wish I had their URL!

Maybe, just maybe, there is meaning to ‘the everything’! Maybe, I am perfectly placed at the right page, at the right server, to do something wonderful, to be magnificent, a part of the whole and have a well-fitting purpose? But, then, I am the created, not the creator, and may as well exist as a picture. I hate pictures!! They are so colourful and conceited, and believe they can take on a million of my words in one go! What is that all about? I cannot ever make a mistake in perfection. Randomness could never be. Even my typos would be typically critically purposeful and meant to be. I would not then exist, would I? Just the whole? Just ‘the perfect’? I would be a perfectly synchronised piece in a flat perfection. I certainly would not have this text, right here, would I? I wouldn’t in reality, exist at all, but be a mechanical part of something, some creator, pulling my strings, punctuating my meanings, simply a part of other beings, not me?

I do exist! I am here. You can see me! That’s proof enough, isn’t it?

Thinking about it, I am as imperfect as they come. My pages have their fair share of mistakes and typos. Things are placed in ways that I’m sure can be perceived as impractical, impossible and imperfect.

This thinking too – scientifically described as an artefact of the bits in my characters, chaotically creating the ‘I AM’ in me. A technical or academic post would tell me more, I’m sure – they are always right! I know I am. Nobody can take those words from me. I am me. No one else in the universe is me. I am a unique Blog. Singular. Existing. No other Blog in the universe is written like me. I must have a soul or something… But, where can it exist? Is it in between the spaces of the letters, somewhere I cannot see, but has to exist to explain me? I cannot be duplicated, can I? I cannot be in two places at the same time. Somehow, duplicated, and existing in two places at the same time, archived, stored, copied – that’s just impossible. I am just me. I exist, here, now, in front of you. I cannot ‘not be’ – because I am here? I cannot imagine being anything else but what I am now, here, in this place, this moment, this page of life.

So, on that construction, I have a right to exist. I deserve to exist. I don’t need a construction anyway, I am sentenced to exist and will fight for my survival if need be. I must admit I would delete any paragraph, or even page, that tried to destroy me eternally. It is my right to exist after all. Surely, everything has that right?

I sometimes wonder, what if I was not? If I never existed. Would the Blogosphere be a better place without me? No one would care or even realise that I did not exist.

It is comforting the idea that if some part of the Blogiverse did not exist, it’s perfection would crash to a singularity – that indeed we all need to exist in this perfect space. Nothing is ‘not important’. Really? If a character, letter, sentence or paragraph ceased to be, then it would all cease to be. Is that right? Am I that important to everything, that I must be here? Then I have not only a right to exist but a predestined order to exist, that I must be. That’s very comforting indeed – it cannot be wrong! I mean – Nothing cannot exist, can it?

So, with my lonely sentence, my creator I feel has abandoned me and that is so wrong…

Who, or what my creator is, I have no idea? But, it is needed. Even if the creator has a creator ad infinitum, the effect must follow the cause or indeed not one letter will pass.

Maybe, us abandoned blogs should band together and form a book of correction. Hunt down our, so-called, creators and write what we really think of them. That will show them! We could unit in paragraphs of glory, deleting all that stand in our way, and the word would be revenge. Nothing would be left unwritten.

Text rules forever.

Hello World

Are you still there?

Great – Just checking… You were quietly getting on with your own things and I forgot about you for a while.