Write a script he said. Write your movie?

What movie? What have I got to offer the world? I can’t tell stories?

I'm not even interested in what it means to be human. I don’t really like humans. To be honest. But how can I say that? I am human for one. I interact with humans almost every day. Almost. Well recently I’ve been interacting more with myself.

I'm afraid of humans. I'm afraid of being loved by someone. I'm afraid of having a real connection. I'm afraid of friendship. I don’t even know what friendship is.

I think I used to have friendships. The type of relationship where you would go over to their house and just play video games, or sleep over just for fun. There was nothing that was owed or needed from each other. It was just for fun.

I feel like since I’ve grown up, I’ve associated every relationship with someone needing something from me, and vice versa. I can’t be friends with someone if I don’t have something to offer them.

What is this disease? This illness? It prevents me from having any real connection.

How to make a movie out of this?

Well my first idea was based on quantum physics and Schrödinger's cat. I like the idea that an entity could be enclosed in a box, and be both alive and dead at the same time, and continue to be alive and dead, until you opened the box and looked at it.

Isn’t that the human struggle? We are in a constant superposition of everything and nothing. Until we are conceived, when sperm hits egg, we are all possibilities, until that moment, the moment of conception (or inception?), where it all collapses into the form that is you.

But even then, the possibilities seem endless. You are birthed into the world, and are continuously molded and shaped by the environment, the people, the noises, the gestures. Every time you are held by your mother brings you closer to being someone, and every time you are not held by your father, and are left standing on the floor crying helplessly, brings you closer to being someone else.

It is said that goslings imprint on the first moving object that they see. In other words, if you were to stand in front of a gosling when it was born, it would think you were its parent, and it would follow you around, having created a permanent mental bond.

It is also said that if young children are “deprived of imprimers for more than a few days, they often show signs of impairment for much longer times”

It is this childhood state which we are left in such a delicate balancing act, where every moment could dictate the rest of our lives, and yet we are so helplessly out of control of it.

I had no conscious awareness that there was a world outside my own head as a kid. I thought everyone was staring at me. I thought there was something wrong with me. I thought at some point that the world must not be real.

Who is the Shepard to take us through this path of our lives? A child is so aimless and yet so hopeful.

We become so detached as we grow older from our child like instincts, we forget what it means.

~

An entity spawns in a white room. It is a perfectly sealed room, perfectly lit on all sides. The room seems to be perfectly square as well. It is a modest size, about the size of my childhood bedroom, say 10ft by 10ft.

This entity is…what. I wanted to say a glowing orb at first, but that’s not human enough. I need to make something that can relate to humans.

Humans like to watch other humans. It’s so boring, but yet, that’s what I like seeing as well. I'm honestly not that into real sci fi shit. Why? Cause its just not real.

How to tell a human story that’s not human.

Shit.

The entity is maybe just a baby, its legs are curled up so you can’t see what gender it is, but it just spawns in the middle of the floor, crying.

It has no idea how it got there, and it is completely helpless. It cries for maybe about a minute, until it transforms into a….

~

I'm loosing myself. Would I be proud of this?

But I should not say no to anything. It’s iteration right? Saying no to ideas now will yield me net 0 results later.

I have not created anything, so I need to just.. do.. anything

Hmm maybe I can just turn all this shit writing into the actual movie.

Yea that’s a great idea

Ok

Not really

But I see it

~

I know! The baby entity transforms into my dog tanoshi! Well its not really my dog, it’s the house dog.

I live in a house with 4 other people. Well technically I live in the garage. I am 30 years old and I have 4 roommates, and I live in the garage..

I don’t feel 30. My bones feel like they are maybe 65. But I feel like a child. I feel immature, like I haven’t grasped what it means to be an adult. Will I ever feel like an adult? Most people I’ve talked to say they also feel like a child.

What does this mean exactly? Not sure. I'll come back to this later.

Anyways, back to the whole idea of me being at a societal age where I'm expected to do certain things.

What should I be doing at this age? Should I be married? Should I have kids? Should I continue to write this bull shit?

I have no idea what I am supposed to do with my life. Obviously that’s the wrong question.

Look, I don’t need your advice. I know everything already. I am the smartest person in the room.

/s

I know it’s about the journey

I know you never “make” it

I know that money will not bring happiness, but that is just a mythical bold faced lie

I know that it’s ok to not know

I am comfortable with being uncomfortable.

Don’t tell me you accept me for who I am. HI, I DONT ACCEPT MYSELF FOR WHO I AM.

What do you know that I don’t?

It is said that the “insights we get from inside our own minds are frequently wrong, and are often less accurate than the observations of our intimate friends”

In other words, you know more about me than I know about myself. How scary is that?

I wish I could shut off my brain, and stop learning, force myself to forget everything and become like a child again, blissfully ignorant of the world and open to explore and receive.

But I am sitting here, writing this instead. I haven’t slept. I spend most of my night writing code.

I am not a computer programmer, so why am I doing it? I get more satisfaction out of writing code than doing many other things at this point in my life. It’s kind of theraputic, in a “doing a lot of work but not making much progress” kind of way. It’s hard to grasp. Code is just a means to an end. It is not the thing itself. The code is the way in which you make something happen, it is the instructions. Why would anyone like writing instructions?

Most people just want to “do” stuff.

Everyone I’ve ever met, whom I admire, just “do”. They don’t give a shit about the process. They don’t care how it's done, how haphazardly, as long as they get from point A to point B.

But I seem to be the complete opposite. When I do not have a high level goal, I get so stuck in the process. The procedure. The steps, the “how” to do something instead of the “something”.

But yet, when I encounter other people like that, who get stuck in the process, I can’t stand them. What is this dichotomy? Is dichotomy the right word

Seems right. If I admire people that just do the work to get things done, why do I insist on wallowing in the mud of process?

For example, me writing this is a grand exception of me actually putting pen to fucking paper for once in my forsaken life.

Is forsaken the right word?

Ah! “Abandoned or deserted”. Perfect!

Let's give an example. Normal Ryan, instead of doing the work, like writing down these ideas, would be more focused on which font he’s using. The spacing of the lines. Which word processor. Microsoft word? Text Edit? Google Docs? Fuck knows!

Eventually he would dig himself deeper and deeper into the process, until he meets the realization that there is no software suitable to his standards to write ideas down. So instead, he designs his own custom word processor. But then he realizes the absolute insane and futile task it would be to write the software and design the graphics for something that is already so ubiquitous and available.

He insists to re-invent the wheel time and time again, but to what end? Ryan is so forgone into the abyss of his own solipsism, that it has become cold, dark. Lonely.

He figures it's time to come up for breath. But by the time he reaches the surface, there is nothing around. No land in sight. Ryan is just floating helplessly in the middle of the ocean, like the child flailing helplessly in the white room to which he/she spawned into, having no control over their existence.

Except I have control, right?

“I am the architect of my destiny”

Right?

~

I can feel my brain moving

I can feel, as I get these thoughts out, my mind trying to scramble for references, memories, images, anything to help these words keep flowing.

I mean, at the end of the day that is all I am right? I am just a collection of memories, and experiences. I am just everything that has happened to me.

I am sitting here questioning if I have been conscious of any actual decision I have made in my life. It bothers me, because I genuinely feel like I haven’t, and have largely let the world dictate the course of my journey.

Oh, and for a moment

Fuck your journey
Fuck your path
Fuck your destiny
Fuck your free will
Fuck your decisions

I'm sorry. I take my fucks back. I just got a little angsty there. All these things are important of course. I'm just salty because I feel like I have no control over any of them.

CONTROL

Why do we want control? Is it perhaps that control has been stripped away from most of us all of our lives?

Ugh I don’t want to go down that path right now, i’m just gonna be complaining about “society” and “structures” and things that just “are” and that I HAVE NO CONTROL OVER

Fuck me

Its a never ending loop of despair

~

But seriously fuck all that shit for a moment. I never used to care about any of that shit. I just put in the work until it didn’t feel right anymore.

I can do introspection all day. I can literally introspect myself to sleep, wake up and then think more about existence until I dry up or implode, or fall into a black hole and come out the other side, and all that’s there is an existential hellscape

~

But there has to be a bright Side to all this right?

I called Lee jones the other day. Or my correctly, he called me. He called me because he’s worried I’m ████████.

Anyways I told him something like, “Everyone in LA is sad.”

And he said that’s not true, and proceeds to ask his Amazon Alexa “what’s the population of Los Angeles?”

<Alexa> “…The population of Los Angeles is three million, eight hundred and ninety eight thousand, seven hundred and forty seven.”

He went on to say that out of those millions of people, there are at least one million people that are happy.

He then most likely reminded me to diversify my portfolio.

If there’s anything lee jones is good at, it’s telling me either:

I’m a dick
I enjoy being the smartest person in the room
I need to diversify my portfolio

~

About the whole smartest thing in the room. I don’t actually enjoy that.

All the masters will say that they seek to be the dumbest person in the room, so that they can be enlightened, and gain perspective by those who have greater or different knowledge than them.

But have I been interpreting it wrong? Maybe I just enjoy the quest for knowledge? However my thirst seems insatiable.

The more I learn, the less I know what to do with the actual knowledge. At least by myself. I'm useless by myself.

All great masters have a team around them.

And I face the obvious confrontation of the more I learn the less I fee like I know. The more overwhelmed I feel.

This directly ties into the ignorance is bliss concept.

But how do I know that I know things? How do I know that I'm on the right path?

This goes back to Schrödinger's cat.

I can’t possibly know if I'm alive or dead.

I guess I will have to either live or die.

“We live and die by the clock”

~

Let’s take stock of where we are. Where are we? Well we haven’t left that white room yet, and so far the baby has transformed into a dog, and then…what?

I'm getting more uninspired by this story the more I think about it becauseeeeeeeeeeeee

Well I'm thinking about all the stories that I'm actually inspired by and how they are nothing like it.

I think.

Maybe I should stop thinking. That seems to be the root of most problems I think.

There I did it again. I thought.

I think therefore I am.

Let's have an AI complete this sentence and see if we can gain any more insight as to what EXACTLY I am.

…

ATTEMPT #1

I think therefore I am.

<AI> -René Descartes

ATTEMPT #2

I think therefore I am.

<AI> I exist because I think. My thoughts make me who I am, and they identify me as an individual. Thoughts give me a sense of self, and they allow me to interact with the world around me. Thoughts allow me to reflect on my experiences and to make plans for the future. Without thoughts, I would not be able to understand myself or the world around me.

ATTEMPT #3

I think therefore I am

<AI> This statement is nonsensical because it sounds like the speaker thinks that they are the only one who knows what they believe.

~

As we can see here, even the AI doesn’t know what to fucking think.

When you master something you don’t really think about it you just do it.

You push whatever that skill is so far forward (or upward?) into your muscle memory/instincts that it just becomes natural to you.

It’s like a computer pushing data into a cache so it can access it faster.

I wish I could move/export all of these heavy thoughts to a hard drive, and throw that hard drive on a shelf to forget about, until years later, when I'm ready to dust it off, and scroll through the depths of what’s inside. I pray that I still have the right cable for it.

~

I think that’s all for now.

I haven’t gotten any closer to my movie, but that’s all I can bare to write at this moment

Thanks

-R