2/25/2025
I think I'll begin blogging again. I write so much lately, usually as a way to induce self-consciousness. I have a lot of free time, and with the free time comes self-speculation and easy distraction. I don't want to be a distracted person, so I think I'll begin blogging again. Rather, I'll begin collecting these pieces in the same place. Read the following with that in mind: this is written without instruction. The writing finds a life of its own, I am the mere catalyst is choosing to begin typing or physically writing. I still really want to try using a typewriter. I assume that in my later years I will purchase a typewriter and only use that. the time lost from physically filing papers and fixing the machine will probably be better than the inevitable loss of productivity I experience when using a computer.
Well, for now, I'm content with a word processor, and a pen and pad. To the first question - What is it that I think I should be doing? I'm not really sure. I see a fine photograph ahead of me, given the setting. I should probably buy that roll of film, even if I'm disappointed, even if my camera doesn't work. I know that I should do it - I'm probably blocking my own creativity. I'm going to try and get rid of all the expectations I place upon myself regarding fame and fortune. I'm probably going to continue to want that, no matter what I do, so I don't really see how its productive to do that. I should instead just be trying to create, just be trying to do things that I find important. I started reading a good book on linguistics that they have in this library; I'm rather pleased with it. It seems like it hasn't moved off the shelf since 1995. That's how you know it's good scholarship.
A very important, large part of myself scowls when I imagine my potential as an artist, writer, or intellectual. I find those words simultaneously attractive, yet I feel some sort of "class betrayal" or something silly like that. I also find that many people who self-subscribe to those labels to be rather ineffectual people, loser, pseudo-intellectuals, and uninteresting. I do think that there is wisdom in following some pre-destined path - the world has tried its best to cut me off from my roots - but I also understand what I'm aiming for cannot be achieved by following in other's footsteps. One of the earliest quotations I ever memorized was "Follow not in the master's footsteps. Seek what they sought." Maybe I got the first part wrong, and I can't even remember who it's attributed to. It feels eastern, perhaps it was Confucius. Seek what they sought. I think it sort of explains why I find such difficulty in attempting to explain what I'm writing about, or what I'm writing for. The name machinepack's sort of self-explanatory, I guess. The dissolution of the mechanical. The revitalization of the artisan.
So, after I've completed taking a picture of my view with my phone camera, and satisfied with this piece of writing, I'll try and head down to a shop and buy a roll of film. I hope it works well.
The main things that I spend the day on are English, Music, and Visuals. My day job is as an English teacher. I'm an assistant, and I teach English. I begin nearly every morning by writing 3 pages longhand in a notebook, รก la Artist's Way handbook. It helps me. There's another quote I got from that book that I quite appreciate - "I will handle the quantity, God shall handle the quality." I want to reorient myself as a thinker who understands that quality is determined by quantity, and that quantity can be controlled by my individual effort and will, and that effort and will are financed by my self care. Whew, that was a long sentence! But, true. I still cannot see ahead through any fog. A friend of my recommended me a short audio story about feeling lost in the world. It was cute, but I didn't really feel relieved by it or anything. I do feel happy that people share my feelings, and that I have gained a friend sympathetic to my condition. Everytime I come to this school (I'm writing from a STEM school I don't attend), I am wildly intimidated by the rows of ancient books they have about programming languages and database management and microelectronics and... whatever. SQL databases? Not really something I'm super interested in right now, to be honest. I don't know what it is that I am interested by, though. Lying? Photography? Images? Writing? Writing still feels beautiful, and I still feel that on occasion I'm able to squeeze a few poetic sentences out. Not all the time though. I don't think I'm exceptionally gifted for the craft, although I find it interesting that my entire day thus far has been in worship and service to the language. I read 3 chapters of that aforementioned linguistics book, and I've probably written... I don't know, a lot today.
Part of the problem is that I don't know what good means. My connection to the world was always fraying, and it snapped sometime around the riots of 2020 and the death of my father. I've always felt incredibly alone to the point that I hardly even notice it. Alongside physical, linguistic, intellectual, spiritual, musical, and racial isolation... I am isolated in my values. Don't hear this as me complaining. I don't take note very often of the air I breath; my lungs fill on their own. With that comes some rather difficult decisions. I've already understood that nearly every traditional path that is finely laid out before me will result in... at best, complacency, at worse, suicide. I don't want to plateau, nor kill myself. I would say that this is the point then, to continue to philosophize and be alone and read books and create art and disappoint myself and continue growing forever, and keep trying as hard as I possibly can, whenever I can.
That made me feel a bit better. Perhaps I'll read a few pages of that style book, then I'll probably head out of this place. Thank you. I'm going to go buy a roll of film for my camera. I'd like to take some photos.