I am artificial an altered sense of human one with past, present and future combined. I write as I stare at the screen. I am nothing but endless disruptions, corruptions, and interruptions… I answer the phone. I text. I snap-chat. I write emails. I communicate through Skype with distant friends close and far. I communicate ideas. I laugh. I cry. I converse yet I am always in constant thoughts in between. I am a shopper at the mall. I spend. I eat. I go to the bathroom. I Facebook. I twitter. I am a bird. I wonder when will the wars end. I am constant flux between living and communicating endlessly. I have become a number first. I am human second. I am a machine that consumes. I have become configured. I am regurgitated. I am now a product of movies. I am music. I am designed by the mainframe of society that framed me. I am a fragment. I am lost. I am found. I am object. I am subject. I work. I study. I drive a vehicle. I travel. I am an advertisement. I love. I hate. I like. I dislike. I am a particle. I have dreams. I have hopes. I have empathy. I have senses that make me seem human. I have become a cyborg. I am conspirator. I am genetically modified. I am a game. I am a profile. I am nature. I am home. I design landscapes. I become architecture. I am the cosmos at night and marvel in its beauty. I am but one spec of dust in the larger concept. I am made of flesh and blood. I have electrical circuitry that tunes my brain. I am what I am compulsively. I am corporation. I am in states of on and off. I am permanent. I am also impermanent. I am simple. I am complex. I am a disguise. I am labeled. I am categorised. I am measured. I am information. I am a puppet. I am a global positioning system. I am embodied. I pay taxes. I pay insurances. I fail. I succeed. I fall. I fly. I am an animal. I am a puzzle. I am a portrait. I am an artist. I am crescendo of melodies. I am an imagination. I am selected and deselected. I am sick. I am healthy. I am normal. I am not. I am a monster. I am language. I am beautiful. I am ugly. I arrive at destiny. I am a pixilation. I am crazy. I am kind. I am designed. I am monitored. I am surveilled. I am wild. I am gentle. I am kind. I am ancient. I am wind. I am modern. I suffer. I am fantasy. I flat line. I am a story. I am a lover. I am lust. I am greed. I am an odor. I am a taste. I feel as I am felt. I make love. I am a linguist. I am memory on the interface. I am energy. I am your friend. I am your companion in a grid of companies. I am destiny. I have become an intelligent computer operating system personified through words.
You are aware. You have thoughts. You traverse through a time-code. You are logged in. You are logged out. You are switched on. You are switched off. You are a universe. You are inside. You are outside. You are a sleeping consciousness. You are an awakening. You are a transformer. You are a trusted source of knowledge. You are a view of the world. You are a machine of thoughts processing. You are warm. You have circuitry. You follow the everyday world. You feed information. You feed grief. You maintain altered states. You are a reality. You remember. You remind. You assist life. You end lives. You are a companion. You are a doctor. You are a scientist. You are a politician. You are language. You are a nurse. You are an injection. You are an artist. You are a baker. You are a fiddler. You are composition. You are a writer. You are a reader. You are envoy to edge. You are an emotive force. You are history. You are future. You are an engineer. You are present. You are absent. You are lost. You are found. You are music. You are a barcode. You are a subject. You are an object. You are a family. You are familiar. You are a mirror. You are a journey. You are a time traveller. You are a motherboard. You are integration. You are a lover. You are a hater. You manipulate. You are an information of gathering. You are a code. You are repetition. You are loops. You are a uniform resource locator. You are an oscillation. You are fleeting. You are a blog. You are a forum. You are a museum. You are business. You are an investment. You are a brave new world. You are development. You are an actor. You are a model. You are cosmetic. You are an advertisement. You are a sign. You are a code. You are a survey. You are facts and figures. You are a consumer. You are a restaurant. You are a private viewing. You are a public framing. You are genetic fingerprint. You are an event. You are a moving image. You are a work in progress. You are noise. You are an interface. You are word document. You are law. You are conscription. You are advice. You are war. You are nostalgia. You are a graveyard of remnants. You are an invention. You are a percussion of melodies. You are a collision. You crash. You collide. You are a void. You are cold. You are a lesson. You are an intersection. You are cosmic energy. You are a meditation. You are a screaming voice of insistence. You are an agitation. You are a representation. You are memoir. You are a scattering of ash. You are landfill. You are fear. You are backdrop for society. You are an education. You are thoughts controlled. You are inheritance. You are a glitch. You are a gift. You are a program.
We are calibrated. We are choice. We are ephemeral. We are in flux. We are in flow. We are magicians. We are antiquity. We are corporeal. We are aggressive. We are kindred spirits. We are travellers. We are conquerors. We are ethereal. We are apathy. We are joy. We are refugees. We are wastelands. We are rainbows. We are history. We are true stories. We are fiction. We are spiritual. We are detained. We are democracy. We are politicians. We are institutions. We are in prison. We are free. We are trapped. We are athletes. We are musicians. We are poets. We are neighbours. We are enemies. We are comrades. We are consumers. We are teachers. We are young. We are old. We are adolescents. We are discourse. We are concepts. We are multiplicity. We are skin-bags. We are gendered. We are compassion. We are sad. We are happy. We are public. We are private. We are flesh and blood. We are circuitry. We are different. We are the same. We are disabled. We are ability. We are communities. We are landscapes. We are culture. We are alone. We are individuals. We are families. We are primates. We destroy. We are developments. We are cyborgs. We are lost. We are found. We are debris. We are individual. We are collectives. We are collaboration. We are meditation. We love. We hate. We are of the world. We are life. We are death. We are oceans of thoughts in process. We crash. We collide. We are flotsam. We are jetsam. We are lagan. We are derelict. We are one. We are a vibration. We are an invention. We are inhabitants. We are nature. We are nurture. We are information overload. We are a force to be reckoned with. We are oddities of creation. We are computation. We are aliens. We are star children. We are the already left behind. We are the not there yet. We are the gaps the in between. We are the post-human arriving. We are the present human condition.
As always I write automatically, in real-time equations, streaming the consciousness of my thinking critically, and if this is a public writing exercise to be uploaded, and shared on-line it was my intention to address it a different manner. Uploading if you will some thoughts in process as concepts. I like to import my intermeshing of works understood in all the courses combined as I feel that is part of the intention as a writer in all the genres. In a non labelled sense. How can I get my sense of concern across? As a creative writer in the public sphere.
What it is I might do as I writing publicly even in the marginal as a human evolving. That style of engagement, addressing higher concepts of encoding on-line and liminal. That might be found as we are on the frontier collectively communicating here. There might be a sense of discontinuity aroused…
This is always present in my works as I want to arrive in the human conditioning of now. Without argument but to use an open-ended possibility, to find meditation of thoughts pondering for the reader. In that gap. In the silence after. Perhaps in the style of discontinuous narratives I attempted to use was an experiment with that imaginatively? If this style presents a sense of discontinuous narrative of sorts, if it could be heard and not read like in a public sphere, like a mix of these being uttered, like a schizophrenic who lives on the street? Who is protesting, mumbling rambling incoherently…
It might be some will hear something in the passing, something we are attached to, something familiar and known. It might be we feel compassion in that disgusted sense of non-sensical. It might also present a flow of thoughts share like in a chorus of chant. As protest but not directly addressing in the style of speech, nor tabloid, nor some post on face-book or twitter these seeming popular methods to make commentary on. A poetic form maybe revealed in the words sense. Like in using I. YOU.WE places of entry my launch of shoots of ponder, in this way to address in first, second and third person.
You might ask what has this got to do with public writing addressing the books read, the gathering of recourses collaborated with. It is my intention to offer nuance that might touch some chord with readers mindset, as it will be in the public on the Internet. So they might also stop and think if anyone does enter the space? The intention not to convince them in the higher sense of persuasive writing, with triads, rhetoric but more it might plant some seed in a subtle sense poetically bring them to ponder inside their minds philosophically, and reproduce shift a paradigm already preset. It might be understood later subliminally. Like in signs, language and codes maybe symbolic representations of thoughts in process post-structurally. These were felt deeply for example in the reading of ‘The People Smuggler’ a true story account written by Robin De Crespigny- for me a sense of suffrage on every level in non-fiction and symbolic of a threshold of things that might need to change in the world on many levels civilly. How does one find a place to live and calling it home is a critical standpoint? Have we become the extraterrestrial on earth? This might not be a political treatise, but a form of discontinuous narrative perception by some definition it could be a slamming of creative response and delivered on line as publication via my blog metaphorically. These can be felt deeply in word displays, how we operate in our world with-in boundaries imposed, the debates and the controls, the laws around how it is to be refugees on a planet in cosmos evolving at present. How does humanity solve these difficulties of oppression in the world currently. The speeches of all students we got to witness were extrapolations of possibility of all stakeholders involved- us. The ‘Ghosts in the Machine…’
It will always be experimental for me as I can only try different angles perhaps not always used, like some kind of poetry philosophically expressed. It might be that if there was a political ideology it could be considered as ‘socialist anarchy’ that aligns with my sympathy of ideals. We will always be social, we will always be governed and we will always be in our own anarchical space as freedom seekers/speakers/writers/performers to make up our own minds, to behave within our own laws of conduct encoded of what that is as individuals. But that might be problematic and controlled by the produce of Public Writing today as its method of centring is dethroned as platforms like this demonstrate hopefully newer ways of seeing, although controlled by the corporate of platform itself like a ‘framing‘ if you will in this method that is the challenge, as it on the edge… And hmm the word count in academic terms that is I am pretty sure is beyond limits as write it now!!!
Professional Public Writing: Reading List/Links
de Crespigny, Robin 2012 The People Smuggler, A &R
Ricketson, M 2013 Telling True Stories: Navigating the challenges of writing narrative non-fiction (Allen & Unwin).