“This should be the busiest time of my life yet nothing has changed with the wind, still I watch the pollen float and the flowers quiver to the never-ending pollination; I want what’s given to be heard to the audience that never existed, the you was always me, always me, always us.” TDA ~2k11 on the silence of TCoM
That’s a good line Justin if you were one to die in the misery of what you thought was there, is there for you and us and I and those around invisibly seen in and out in and out all it takes is the abandonment simultaenous to the joinment / creationment of the thing you set out to do a long time ago.
And my dear friend, the product you wish to create, the never-ending reach you see it as, was never out there, was always in here, right around, always here never there alwyas here never there always here never there always here never there always here never there always here never there the feeling inside your head and your stomach now: the rotting from the inside–it’s real! You are rotting to the audience that never existed. You are rotting to the idea of “want”ing that audience to exist when it will not. It doesn’t matter though! It never did! The real work. The work isn’t the audience. That is a byproduct. We don’t need to sell either. Selling is a byproduct. Being praised is a byproduct. “Feeling like you belong somewhere” or “feeling understood” are byproducts…of the work. The work stops when the product is the byproduct.
When the byproduct is the product this, as you see it and feel it, as you know it, is a never-ending continuance of neverness. Wantness. Fragmentation. The dots will never connect. The proof of creation scattered. Without the context who cares who gives a damn. Not even you! You know it.
The Chronicles of Mania is a monster. Of your creation! And the burden! Of creating such a truth in your lab. Of being the byproduct of labwork. Of fear and such. How misunderstood. How you understand how misunderstanding that work is. How you have carefully made it contradict. How unfinished it is. How it is not expressive. How capped it has been. How little is known about the 12kevent of 2k13. How no one knows. The few that do know so little! And how important it seems! How debilitating it seems to know how little is known and expressed. To look at manicdreams.net and see what it is on the Internet. How the stage falls short. Behind the stage? How about the stage behind? Is there a behind the stage? Is there a way to answer the question, “what kind of art do you do?” Is there a way to understand this question. Is there a way to understand others create too but just not like you no no one does that. No one sleeps like you either. No one feels like you do. no surely not. surely not no surely not no that reach. This isn’t to say you will be always miserable. Not to say you will not find the shape to compliment you. the one you fit into. the passageway to that full self, that full artist, that pro artist henry you’ve seen and known that one time