The Self-Restricted Animal

imagination

The human is the only animal that is shaped by its own inventions.

Human beings’ possibilities are hence limited by their capacity (or courage) to imagine.

The human is the self-restricted animal.

Our awareness of death—our natural limitation—has given birth to a thousand artificial limitations.

The sum of these artificial limitations—and of human inventions—is called culture. The origin of culture is language, the original and ultimate human invention.

The irony of culture is that, while it pretends to offer new possibilities for the expression and realization of human aspirations, culture is the cage that prevents natural human expression.

Human aspirations (culture), rather than leading to their realization, are the means of their own eternal postponement. Imagining new possibilities has become a surrogate for experience instead of an invitation to it.

*

There is someone inside your house. How did they get there? You are witnessing the scene from outside, a passive observer.

The person moves around like they belong there. They make themselves at home. You want to call out, to call the authorities to come and remove this intruder. Instead of calling out, you stand outside and watch. You experience a strange, vicarious enjoyment in watching. Eventually you make yourself at home outside, and observe the intruder’s activities.

After a while, you recognize the intruder in your house. It is you, living your life. There is nothing you can do about it.

The cross-fertilization of worlds has occurred. You have woven a future out of imagined objects and now you sit inside a movie theater, watching your life unfold.

Culture has you.

A shiver runs down your spine; or it would if you still had one.

Voices from afar carry incoherent messages. Language has broken down. You have made a mess of everything. You are haunted by your own unborn children, trapped inside an echo chamber of reminders, watching gross particles of desire bounce off each other, float aimlessly into the past.

Trying to find the words to make it all come out right, the words shadow your every move. Without language your existence has no definition. You are somewhere before the beginning, embryonic. You are afraid to say the word that will announce your presence to the world. It is safer to let others occupy that space; the sideline is the safest place.

You have taken refuge in the margins of your existence. If you are never born, then you won’t have to die.

*

Words empower. The less power we have in our lives, the more necessary words become to us. Yet a reliance upon words robs us of our power. We cannot stop the word now, even if we tried.

Language is the human invention that has come to define what it means to be human. If we cannot put it into words, it no longer exists. Yet we only have words for what we have prior experience of.

We are self-defeated because we are self-invented.

The point the word took over was the point we became prey to our own conceptions. Life became synonymous with death because life cannot be conceptualized. Only at the point the word ends (with the words for “death” and “God”) does life begin.

Consciousness is infinite. Language is finite. Where there is language, there can be no consciousness.

23 thoughts on “The Self-Restricted Animal

    • I’ve been compared to AW before – maybe it was you?

      The short easy answer to your question is – I don’t know, but obviously I am still attached to the possibility!

      I am reading Donald Kalsched’s Trauma & the Soul and one of the points he makes early on is that when a person’s personal narrative is fractured by trauma, their lives lack coherence; discovering the hidden, daimonic/archetypal (unconscious) underlayer of their experiences is a way to see how the pieces fit into a larger, more collective narrative. The end result is a new story that leads to a deeper self-knowledge and self-acceptance. Maybe this is why Freud compared psychotherapy to literature? (Both have cathartic functions)

      I think the danger is always the same, in this regard, that while words/fictions can lead to closure, they rarely do because they take on a life of their own, and the distraction they provide becomes a way to AVOID closure, to keep the fiction going. The reason is that closure depends on full catharsis, that is, replacing neurotic suffering with authentic suffering. It is the full journey into Hades, and this is the one journey we can’t turn into a story – because the one who returns is not the one who left? (Guessing now)

      So the world is full of “experts”, artists, sham-men, etc, who prefer to tell stories about their underworld experiences in lieu of taking that final plunge. And as the song goes: “And God, I know, I’m one.”

    • Absolute Closure means what, forgive me. Like, resolved: Empty of self image concern? All my characteristics as a singular person perception, absorbed and evaluated according culture invention, vanished? First as installed mush-mush sponging up family, neighborhood, environmetal stuff as time goes along. My In-brain apparatus filters preconceived truths? All of it, this persona of makeup, very specific, of course, to individual community of everybody’s matter in the first place, is resolved, not guilty! Absolute closure to me here sounds like that in order for that pefecto state of absolute ”knowing’, and isn’t that mostly what we are talking about, that then therefore a last salve of ultimate soothe rubs off onto ALL disparate inconveniences, convenient encumberances, and pft! ALL gone! Otherwords, sum of all that is black and white of our spread, between, and back as ALL of it once again, that that edit to edit evolving to final best word placements explains us, and perhaps IT ALL, explain us to us? And that fiction and or nonfiction is the truth of us? Look between the words even and we are explained there. Yet somehow with our singular anatomy and mind, but like say consequent this last but a compiled pefect ‘medicine’, applied as if finding inside IT is outside the same as ourselves right now feeling like, “Okay. I am totally soothed. I feel like nothing before because I never fell pain free like this here. Almost dead like. Thus, thank . . . thank the absolute, I no longer forever feel guilty over never in everyway at all achieving ‘perfect’ or even near according to what we know must be the most satisfying answer to the final spirit. Being so good we are good and WE don’t even know it. Sweet to the point beyond taste. Polished nth zone, planed outta sight. As I say, dead you could call it, perfect stature. The end of a life after nothing but mind free. Not even mind. So that nothing at all would be all wow without the wow. Dead as a doornail Yet describing condition, like nothing at all I’d guess, Nothing AS IS is nothing much done at all, seems to me. What a wonderful nonlife. Nice feelings have nothing to do in vacuum. Why aspire to goodness? Because it’s there. But before even forming gas? Whew. That stinks like nothing right from the start so why do we smell it? As to can words or fictions though, ever really lead to absolute closure? Why I have no idea and who asked one might interrupt. But the question of fiction and words arranged finally in such a final word gesture truth of it all manifesto, alright. Concluding maybe that perfection might depend on how a person is willing to BELIEVE in whatever obviously is not the whole truth, imperfect from the start in order to get something going even if it must be false. Follow that kind of self created faith above all else and go with it. Can go to the stars on a murderous spree if the math is right. Faith absolute in hogwash, why not. It works for much of our Congress. Fiction is words is description. The ‘describer’ writer either knows a whole lot of nothing or of the wisest, nothing much of what is claimed, We dicipher for ourselves our actions composed and reveal that which we value. Words as fiction or nonfiction the line can be as thin as a rock between it’s soft place. In some quarters deep underground near decompsed bullshit that is considered quite wise. Me, no big deal unless it is my last meal and chance for an epitaph almost funny. Hoky? Horny?

  1. I’ve been compared to AW before – maybe it was you?

    No. It just stuck me very familiar to Alan Watts which in numerous of his works he mentions the limits of words & conventions.

    Very interesting on the Donald Kalsched bit; will have to check out his work some time. It makes sense the trauma disrupts one’s own myth. Which sends one into a whirlpool search for recovery.

    “The reason is that closure depends on full catharsis, that is, replacing neurotic suffering with authentic suffering. It is the full journey into Hades, and this is the one journey we can’t turn into a story – because the one who returns is not the one who left? (Guessing now)

    So the world is full of “experts”, artists, sham-men, etc, who prefer to tell stories about their underworld experiences in lieu of taking that final plunge. And as the song goes: “And God, I know, I’m one.””

    Yeah, Three Colors:Blue flashed in my mind while reading that paragraph probably with the whole catharsis & underworld metaphor at the end.

    Appreciate the insightful & stimulating response it has left me with a lot to think about.

  2. That’s good. I was writing more about the limitations of words this morning and then read some more Kalsched, and realized that it’s a two-way thing. The ability/opportunity to express our inner experience in words is cathartic, it allows for release/relief, for closure as you put it. The important thing is knowing when to stop.

    I described words today as a life raft – they have saved me but also imprison me. Also a transitional medium?

    So the thing is to know when it’s time to leave the life raft and swim?

  3. I tend to think of letters as a life raft so long as we have more than two letters to choose when using words to communicate. The only letters that we use as words ( place holder words), unto themselves, are two letters … A and I. (as in ” A dog sniffed me” …. and … “I like this dog.” That’s like some sort of joke , right? So we are stuck with AI as our two singular letter/words, and I suggest that this creates a stranglehold. The only thing that will break the strangle hold of such a duality — the A and I — is to insert U into the mix (as I have mentioned in this comment section before). U are/is the Unidentified (with a capital U) if we can each let U be as U is, without attachment to any other letters , as in the case of the word “UFO” , for example. U are the cosmic anomaly that can only be given a singularity (a single letter , U) to represent the refusal of U to be identified except through storied language / metaphor. U is especially an anomaly insofar as U are the only thing, I believe , that can break the ridiculous A and I (AI) stranglehold of single-letter words (which are really just placeholders). So, now with that … “A dog sniffed me” … and … “I like this dog”… and … “Some cultures call U a dog”.

  4. This seems to be a period of study for me – i haven’t produced much at the blog. In conjunction with relating McLuhan to Kubrick, I’ve been delving into the tarot a bit.

    The tarot are 78 cards -56 of which relate to the doings of the ego (minor acrana) and 22 of which represent classic Jungian archetypes (major arcana). I’ve come to see the first two cards of the major arcana as somewhat distinct from the others. They are the 0 and 1 cards – the Fool and the Magician.

    As binary code the cards kind of represent an off/on switch. The Fool, the zero card, is symbolic of unfettered imagination. The magician, the one card, is symbolic of conjuring that imagination into reality.

    The usual connections to the numbers 0 and 1 apply – the 0 as the feminine, pool, vaginal, subconscious mind, etc. and the 1 as masculine, erection (construction as well as phallic), ego mind, etc.

    An interesting point is that the Magician card was early on referred to as the juggler (jongleur) or the tumbler (bateleur) card. Depictions of jugglers and tumblers are found as far back as 2000 BCE in Egypt. They were seen not only as entertainers but as illusionists (much like magicians of today). In the 14th century, when tarot cards were first produced, jugglers and tumblers were also the word smiths, the reconteurs of tales.

    Words, illusion, reality, imagination…

    The whole picture runs very deep, way deeper than this comment hints at – I’m having great fun trying to unravel it all.

    John

    • Hi John; I referenced those two cards in some early material I wrote about perception, with my terms “the cowboy and the fool,) cowboy (magician) representing focused awareness (left-brain, NT-ism, masculine, ego, reason) and the fool representing unfocused awareness (right-brain, autism, feminine, unconscious, imagination).

      I think writing is a particular way to combine those two modes; writers (and artists in general) you could say are naturally autistic, tho autists aren’t natural writers, because the social framework doesn’t encourage, to put it mildly, the autistic (or even artistic) expression, which depends on unfocused (non-survival based) awareness.

      Now I think of it, 2001 seems to map this process – with the apes turning violent being the dawn of focused awareness (ego); Hal being the final evolution of it into a full pathology, and then the breakthrough – via the transitional space between focused and unfocused awareness, into a third state that combines the two.

      the movie itself creates a trance-like state that prevents the normal sort of focus which we expect to have while watching a movie, without allowing a total “bliss out” into unfocused or dream state (the plot kicks in at certain points, reality bites).

      just free-floating thoughts on a Sunday morning; maybe I’ll dig up that old piece, since I don’t think I ever published it.

  5. U also seems to be associated with Active Imagination … A space-imaginal where the I enters into conscious engagement with U. This is completely different than hopping aboard some sterilized (and sterilizing) “Flying Object” which is what so often happens when the U is attached to the F and the O, as is what has happened in this pseudo-culture and all pseudo-culture everywhere. When U are disconnected, in the mind of a person, from the animal nature (and plant nature) of the earth Herself, U become a mechanical “flying object” rather than something that can actually feed, clothe , and shelter oneself and one’s loved ones.

    The reason that most are unable to leave U as it is , Unidentified, is because it brings up a lot of grief, I think. It is hard to imagine that something can be so alone, so impossible to touch, so Unidentified. It is more than most feel they are ready to handle, probably , because there is total lack of culture in the modern world. Real intact culture is the only place where the reality of collectively acknowledged animism can thrive, which is a cultivated space which inherently makes a special place for U where even U (and especially U) are brought to life in just about every story that is told within that intact culture. In an intact culture, U are at the core of every story, often clothed in animal or plant or rock skins.

    Being an embodiment of NT man (or at least constantly aspiring to be embodied as that which I am) , culture is very important to me, and I have to do my best to re-make it constantly if I am truly going to be a living expression of that particular quality of wholeness. Culture may not be my friend, as Terence McKenna had suggested, but it is certainly not my enemy either. I can understand why the autistic individual may feel that culture is the enemy, though. I believe that even intact cultures, in the past, have certainly confused autistic individuals with psychopathic individuals, and thus the autist-folk were wrongly destroyed, and that is probably why we have the pseudo-culture matrix around the globe now. The Furies were released, more and more of them, each time the wrong person was destroyed. I think we are at an “evolutionary” point where we are at least able to start really having the discernment between the gifts of the autistic individual and the gifts of the psychopathic individual … and the discernment to know when the psychopathic individuals are using the autistic individuals as a scapegoat. I am hoping that we are reaching a point where the wrong one will not be destroyed. I think we are reaching that point, slowly but surely. Your work on this website, Jason, has helped me with discernment on this matter, so thanks for that.

  6. Hi Chris,

    I think the psychological model of trauma, dissociation, and psychic splitting is useful here to give a deeper, more intimate context to this question. The split and the “sacrifice” between psychopath (false self) and innocent (soul or true self, which is symbolized by child – hence all those satanic child sacrifice rituals) occurs internally to each of us as the result of intolerable pain. It is a self-protective mechanism, so ironically, paradoxically, tragically, the psychopath (guardian) is protecting the soul-psyche from further wounding, even tho by doing so it inevitably becomes the wounder. (I had this external experience with my brother in the role of protector/wounder.)

    This dissociative strategy of splitting (psychic self-wounding) works by replacing authentic but intolerable suffering (that of the abandoned soul) with inauthentic but manageable suffering, that of the isolate ego; the cost is that catharsis/integration never happens, so the suffering, while bearable, goes on forever — the wound that is self-inflicted never heals.

    Externally, socially, this is manifest as the endless cycle of regenerative violence, of war and retribution, scapegoating by killing the innocent and then suffering the guilt of having done so. It’s a little mentioned, ironic-tragic paradox of the Christian myth that Christ died for our sins but, since we killed Christ, we are cursed and not saved by our identification with the humanity that killed him. (No wonder it was easier to blame the Jews!) The only way through that paradox, I think, is to identify with the innocent Christ and be crucified with him. To do so is to make the ultimate sacrifice — to lose the savior without, to be alone on the cross, crying, “Father, why hast thou forsaken me?” It’s to relive the original trauma (before sin came into being) of unbearable abandonment.

    Autism and its NT-persecution seems to be a sort of unconscious, collective reenactment of this – in which there can be NO DOUBT as to the innocence of the scapegoat being sacrificed. The same has to be said of satanic ritual – which seems to be an attempt to bypass the psychic laws of individuation and escape the cultural-matrix — via the offering of a surrogate innocence in place of one’s own. It’s the “satanic” (DIS-sociative) refusal to embody, acted out ritually by slaying the infant body before the soul can enter all the way in.

    As ever the only element that is required to change all of this is – the rarest currency of all, but also the one that is everywhere, just waiting to be “disinterred” (rescued from the limbo of dissociation/disembodiment) – awareness.

  7. ANY time there is suffering , there is the re-living of the original trauma of unbearable abandonment. So, yes, NT man has to “get up on the cross” and be Alone with the Alone, so that the Alone won’t (can’t) cry out “Father, why hast thou forsaken me?”. The idea of keeping the Alone company is a bit of paradox, I suppose, but suffering is decreased dramatically, nonetheless, when the Alone knows that NT man is recognizing that the Alone is as such and knows that NT man is mirroring the Alone with sincerity. I think one has to have come out the other side of a few initiations, though, before even thinking about “climbing up on the cross” with the Alone, lest he create more suffering for himself and , by proxy, the world. If one is going to really to be able to be Alone with the Alone, which is what the Alone alone “desires”, then one has to know what the Alone knows which is the purpose of significant life and death initiations, I think. One can get a taste of what it is like and thus develop an empathetic resonance for the “situation” that the Alone is in. If one gets up on the cross, voluntarily through Will, to be Alone with the Alone, then the crucifixion never happened. (This is why constantly NT man, who would embody the particular wholeness that he is, must be Alone with the Alone as much as possible, because pseudo-culture’s neo-magicians would love make people who imagine and look at (“co-create”) a bloody guy on a stick who died for your sins and the sins of the world.

    It is a long journey for NT man in this pseudo-culture, to be able to get to the point of living into, and to the point of supporting , the Divine Masculine and holding it there, there where it has been fated to be, there in that crucified position, for now. It is unbearable at points, even for the so-called enlightened NT man to be up/out there, Alone with the Alone , but the unbearableness of it will have completely dissipated when he reaches 84, so long as he has done the Work for at least half of his 84 years …(there I go again!).

    Alone with the Alone is the title of book about a form of Sufi “active imagination” as described by Ibn Arabi. Henri Corbin wrote the book. Alone with the Alone is essentially a book about developing a heart-centered engagement with U through AI (Active Imagination), you might say.

  8. “The human is the only animal that is shaped by its own inventions.”

    Sure enuf unless a Beaver is shaped by his dam counts as an environment self invented. as hard to escape as human self conditioning, not that a thought of that enters into a Beaver’s picture as it ‘manufactures’ according nature’s urge. And that’s the point perhaps, from my end anyway, no pun intended, that our inventions shape us as we shape the invention to fit Others are fun but pretty much toys. The invention is an extension of us for sure. See the amoeba absorb itself and wiggle us in range of the stars. Like the microbe interior inflicted probes aclimatizing us to constant survellience at our own risk, for our health, and . . . salvation? We invent to resolve pulls of our nature. Curious, nosy, and as messy and destructie as a parrot and we just go on and on seaching commerce routes and heavens to Betsy to salve our greed for more and more accumulation, whtever, and or and simply to see what’s ‘out’ there, what’s going on. What of it that makes us up the way we seem to be. Hello, Andromedia, I want to know ye! For what ye have to say to me!

    “Human beings’ possibilities are hence limited by their capacity (or courage) to imagine.”

    You mean we restrict ourselves because of ourselves doing what we do. Which is fake and phony from the standpoint of masquing, costume clothing ourselves in horsehit accomodations, looking other than inside ourselves, naked, plasma almost, where the answer begins and is at the end? Or something. See beyond our capacity to reach our last happiness behind which gated community, safe from the hoi poloi, the trash outside reveals us. Our inventions restrict us to no real imagination? Hard for me to accept that but maybe I miss your point. Inventions aside the peculiar intent of a hyper creation persona with or without the imagination that is focused energy directed only to break the bonds of culture I suppose could come from an ideology of some sort, a politic even, though I don’t think that a conservative or liberal incline had everything to do with putting the globe on earth/space fast track travel wheels. Time to get here to there is so short these days and shortening so that it could degrade the efficacy of mind bridging two formerly long distance points, now no longer giving plenty of time to contemplate . . . actions. Our destiny and future, inventions. How now! Watch. We are physical reaching into, out of the heliosphere already! What next distant ‘fantasy’ locale where no person been before to find ourselves there? Of course, I have diverged from whatever the point.

    But, restrict ourselves abiding our invented self serving dogma designed for toys for profit, and not to advance understandings giving us real platform to establish a balanced society, culture? No, no. We mutate into our advances, our new knowledge once virtually opposed truth, beomes our new patterns to abide. Inventions, the automobile emanated from the mind of FORD the inventor who connected some machinist sense, horse and carraige steam engine locomotive dots that lead to faster and faster, and shorter and shorter. Connecting factors assembled into auto were parts already out there, plus ‘stealing’ ideas from others already done but what he made practcal first–maybe. Point being–and I won’t go back for fear what I’ll find does not point toward what I am talking about in the first place, which is to make sense inventions that restrict us from advancing our ‘humanity’. Ah, that must be it. That the automobile, as example of invention, restricts us, limits us consequent the manifest of the automobile as diversion, using up our mind and movement on this invention, taking away brain energy from pure philosophy society thinking perhaps. Stopping us from transporting continous ideas free of foolish and selfish singular self serving notions, instead of abandonment altogether to enormous learned wisdom, adding up and finally equalling out to a perfect creation. Us in perfect social balance. Now, that the auto frees us up to let the horses graze and us to be better people ourselves is of course nonsense But are we altogether trapped in response to a global culture in which the ”wheel approaches greed in warp speed. Whoa.

    “The human is the self-restricted animal.”

    Well, there we go.To get beyond our invention of self we have to do what really we be suited by our first nature to be . . . Grunt. “Me Tarzan, you Jane, we be happy forever in jungle”.

    “Our awareness of death—our natural limitation—has given birth to a thousand artificial limitations.”

    Absolutely, you think about the effective energy spent avoiding death by living. Regardless how foolish our matrix in which we move tricks us blind to our inevitibilities: Those being we am what we am made up as we am. So be it is the pro and con dialogue. Still, we do add on and add on games we play to be in the game, whatever. The game of games. Or, if not, reality is no game at all; but what envelopes us from first moment. The game itself is beyond game, there are no rules. Rules to win or lose. Just the way life is, without words, without label. Rather IS IS, ho, ho. Make of it what we will. Thus to make things interesting other that simpy for itself, us, to exist, living to die must fill up with reasons to make it all worthwhile.

    “The sum of these artificial limitations—and of human inventions—is called culture. The origin of culture is language, the original and ultimate human invention.”

    Language is culture is culture IS language. Before language Is there culture in otherwords. Or perhaps like before the WORD is/was there anything at all worth mentioning to report. Or experience transcendence? And, if so, what so primitive creature could possibly be of value to advancing a culture made up of generations removed from the perfect ‘creature’ self?

    “The irony of culture is that, while it pretends to offer new possibilities for the expression and realization of human aspirations, culture is the cage that prevents natural human expression.”

    Yes. Without culture formed of societies of its people and their accumulation of all spectrum and polarity of ideas, negative, positive, plus zero as a start near status quo, what and where in the world are we–ever? Ho. I think I might have over extended myself here. To be continued for another deranged time perhaps.

    • Thanks for sharing thoughts. Re: the line: “Human beings possibilities are hence limited by their capacity (or courage) to imagine.” I meant by that, if our inventions shape and direct our evolution, and what we invent depends on our imagination, then imagination shapes and directs our evolution.

  9. Been mulling this over awhile: The start of the premise and critical to bringing to conclusion as you have that “inventions shape and direct our evolution, and what we invent depends on our imagination, then imagination shapes and directs our evolution”, must be, “IF our inventions shape and direct our evolution . . . ” If so, do we assume that altogether imagination is our evolution and inventions are our imagination shaping our evolution . . stop me before I go in please? But seriously. Or in part only are we our inventions as equates imagination as equates evolution? That soley our inventions build us to what we are? No, of course not. In my view, inventions are perhaps symbiotic (transhumanist) and thus we have no choice combined with our curiosity of a parrot, thus we can’t help ourselves but to manufacture from practically the air, the water, and soil in which we move ourseves about and survive upon and with, to recrate/create whatever is going on in our head consequent the next thing picked up off the ground, light bulb on! We put together a ‘think’ how to throw it and control the aim and extend our reach and advantage somehow. Again, consequent seems to me, what’s first the chicken or the egg? (I see the egg first, I just can’t help myself thinking the seed is before the blossom. The meal before the animal? Another topic for another day, I doubt it.

    The evolutory creature end result or the ‘invention’ he brings with him starts the start? Or are we started in the altogether whole somehow unaware IT ALL is there with no need for th egg to crack considering at the same time is the specimen fully devoloped and evolving out of itself already and dead. Returning in uopn itself/ourself and ‘fueled’ to the end of the given ‘automatic’ alread there, before it begins? Smart alecky, I admit, dumb alecky? But what character of an element of mind are we to prove mind is as we know it rather than . . . outside of mind looking in on itself which is itself non extant figuring out it is solid and most worth to start defining ‘things’ just the same–perhaps. As to “what we invent depends on our imagination, then imagination shapes and directs our evolution.” I got no problem with that. IF inventions shape and direct our evolution is key then your following cause to effect to effect a cause is surely correct. I have trouble as I said with what I infer is that before the invention is the imagination as invention of itself which the imagination allows. Plus, in my view and interpret, the DEGREE to how much invention sucks imagination dry to the point that invention might be ALL of it/us bringing us evolved as ALL invention. That’s all I am talking about..

    • inventions reduce the power to imagine – yes, that’s a great counter-point, as with TV etc, reducing the capacity to create images internally because the medium does it for us

      this is always the way with inventions, a double-edged sword, and i think it confirms the overall point, weirdly, while also adding nuance to it. Imagination is required not merely to invent new technology, but to USE it wisely. Otherwise it will use us, as we have put our soul in it and animated it, thus the machine takes precedence over the man////?

  10. That’s what’s lucky to folks can’t help but write. Catharsis. Whew, thanks I needed that! the forced exhaust of pent-up acumulations of impressions about which one stifles but apparently saves to register in a oompartment box perhaps, in the mind. Never to really let go of the ‘concern’ until an outburst of some sort punctures the stifle balloon. And therefrom comes the self expression in words trying out loud, going public, to expalin a frustratkon\. A mystery, a question mind boggle, triggered from an original, more than likely, emotional issue but stuck without analysis and therelief, as a writer, comes thinking thru. Examined head to foot at bsst, the posed concern, worked out at least somewhat thru a writing process, which is at its universal apprciated best thinking a problem thru to root cause. While talking it out figuring it out. Or at least relase lots of steam. Abandoned in writing, not knowing what is next, means answering to problems of what comes nextr. thus into new territory sort of helpless, except for the writing and thinking tools in the tool kit, applied to facing up to the requirement of moving on or what, stagnate, or die while living with pressure of things building up, accumulated, never even answered to oneself mulling it over in the head now and again. Writing forces a thing out, forces a story be told. from this point natural segueing cause and effect to that, to some personal self esteem satisfaction surely. The self demanding, looking truthfully at the ‘problem’. Writing forces problem solving, whether right or wrong is opinion and hopefully has some common sense, the decision must be made. Onward. Life itself of course, but given the unrelinquishing urge to have to talk about it, what a wonderful cross, so who cares?

  11. What impressions you speak of, Bill?

    These lyrics seems appropriate for your post.

    Hear the echoes and feel yourself starting to turn
    Don’t know why you should feel
    That there’s something to learn
    It’s just a game that you play

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