I like brains. Pretty tasty, especially pig brain with scrambled eggs and some pickles. I also like the brain, as an organ, just like I fancy elegant books full of information that I'll hardly get, not because I don't have access to them, but because I simply can't. Which reminds me how much I dislike my brain. You know that point when you need to access information, maybe some specific terms and you just can't gather yourself to remember? My whole life, basically. My head is a whirlwind and the feeling of uselessness that pervades my being is overwhelming. Words, language is a door, but when you open that door, you are faced with a vast plane. The best of us manage to fill that plane with amazing things, they become acrobats in a place that is quite dull, but most of us, twitch and twirl, stutter, and have sweaty palms trying to get somewhere.
In my head, words are not necessary, as I can explain myself and my environment as precise as a
drunk teenager Swiss clock; or maybe they are necessary, words are there, but without the need of getting them out of my head, I am not even aware of my fluency. Thoughts are bumping into each other, very fast, yet they seem suspended in time. I keep going back and forth, switching from English to Romanian and it's angering me. I call this the land of confusion, as Phil Collins would say. I jump from track to track as fast as an LSD user and in my head, when alone, I am at peace with it. Things get complicated when The Other appears. Then, there is not just I, but also The Other. How can I make The Other understand me? I start to speak fast, but at the end, that feeling of uselessness hits me again. I was not clear enough, I could have chosen my words better, I should have drill a hole into my head and invite The Other to come along and see that perhaps the ride will be fun, and that my knowledge is worth a while. What knowledge, though? What about? There is no order and no depth, just a fucking cracked sidewalk with a few flowers around. How can that be enough? Conveying messages, ideas to others is really a drag when you are not Puskhin. Does this perception rises from craziness or lucidity? And those fucking kittens close to my lab don't stop crying. Seriously.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VIG9fraiBU8
Comments (5)
words. they're the best we've got, but an awfully crude tool. ask the greats, even. i bet they'd agree.
Loss for Words is my favorite Pink Floyd song.
you have kittens in your lab?
@complicatedlight - Practice makes perfect, then?
@godfatherofgreenbay - It's a truly amazing piece, I agree.
No, not in my lab, but my lab has a window which I keep open, and outside we have some cats, now, obviously they have baby-cats, which, as all babies, drive you fucking insane.
half the time i feel i'm at a 2.4 on Allen's scale