#knowing nothing

You go down the pipeline thinking you know something you don’t and it isn’t a bad thing but it’s an obvious thing and that’s still okay but then you remember it really isn’t because that’s sliding to nowhere, not knowing who you are and thinking that’s okay when it isn’t. Then you’re left asking who are all these people are and how did they get into your living room.

First of all, why are Andrei Tarkovsky’s even a thing? They are endlessly meandering with long shot after long shot, slow track in or slow track sideways, sophomoric monologues about coping with existence dribbling on. Pretentious artsy crap. But I’m obsessed. I was over tired when I went to see the recently restored version of Nostalgia. As much as I was enraptured by the opening shot, was then…

I'm an. updated new me, a few apps added, files transferred, a virtual digital share.

I woke up to a new version of me. I had been updated, apps added, files transferred, a digital share, files lost, bytes deleted, self corrupted so much that I cannot recognize me from the start.

I try to think about who I am and what I know, but I don’t know what that any of it means. It’s off in the distance, someplace that I thought I might have been and have now lost.

I try to think about who I am and what I know, but I don’t know what that any of it means. It’s off in the distance, someplace that I thought I might have been and have now lost. I know what I want to be. Well, no, that’s a lie too. Even if I said that I knew what I want to be, or that I thought that I did, I wouldn’t. Yeah, the more I think that I know the who and what, the more I’m further…

For my part, I know nothing with any certainly, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.

Vincent Van Gogh