well it’s not so easy
you seem to assume some great interest on my part
i’m quite bored with everything
somehow i am surviving but just barely
cant seem to find the spark
stuck with my own creativity
it’s a terrible thing
empty blank stare in a room full of mirrors
the only artist that inspires me is John Maus (which i have you to thank for)
i find his music and ideas fascinating, it is oxygen for me
also Jim Jarmusch films, they are hydrogen
but most people are not interested in that stuff at all
it is not popular and too boring and eccentric and threatening, people dont like that
it’s too heavy and intense and challenging
Jarmusch says he is in love with the unromantic moments of every day
i am trying to embrace that and defeat this obsessions with hyper orgasmic drama which modernity is built upon
i’m considering just finding Maus and maybe collaborating somehow
or just learning from him, talking with him
he said in an interview years ago that he also lives isolated and alone
but now he’s married i think?
i have his dissertation which i am planning to read
i attached it in case you are interested
i want to be creative, that is everything for me
radical creativity
or is that just another form of pornography?
i look at people, at cities and the spectacle
it’s like death
i guess it’s my own ego death manifesting in my perceptions
this fucking capitalist consumer baby fetish disgusting cult
i can’t stand it, everything has become so homogenized
it’s like artificial intelligence has already won
and i am the last dreamer on earth
how can people accept this shit
and be amused by it
thumbs up
thumbs down
nothing else
performing and making stupid songs to impress idiots
even the so-called musicians and bands, i don’t get it
they make music and then perform the exact same thing night after night
there is zero creativity in that, it disgusts me
i want to put them all in a concentration camp like 99.9999% humans
i would be a happy mad dictator of the universe
impregnate all the virgins
they get famous and rich and successful and become part of the business shit machine
it’s just a popularity concert
who can be the funniest, the boldest, the most confident
who looks cool, who helps people escape the most
no thanks
i guess i’ve become some kind of communist i don’t know
i believe in the essence of humanity
but my hope is dying
i’m still breathing
birds are chirping
a lion is contemplating right now somewhere whether to get up and go for a hunt or mate or continue to be lazy and sleep
he’s wondering why bother
something in his lion brain ignites
he finds some inspiration to get his ass up and moving
he roams the plains for days
occasionally he looks up and feels the beauty of this insanity
he decides to go kill and fuck to survive
eventually he starves and is abandoned by the pack and hyenas eat his face off just before he takes the last breath and disappears into the black hole of nothingness where we all come from and go to
black death waiting
hyenas
sun far enough away to not burn us alive