Body
March 15th, 2024
I am utterly convinced that anything I say is produced from my body and only my body.
What I mean is, there is no greater abstract logic or reasoning at play when I write. There is no abstraction, no conception that is some greater truth. When I write these philosophical musings, the truth of the matter, the logic of the matter; they matter so little compared to how I am feeling at the moment.
If I am gloomy, I am a nihilist. If proud, I produce sounds of stoicicm. If angry in adrenaline, an authoritarian stance.
I am convinced that the body is the text.
I have voluntary control over my muscles, but they are still influenced by my emotions. Like when someone is road raging, but instead of honking the car horn they tense up instead. They can control themselves, but they still engage in the tenseness of the situation---of the emotion. I believe thoughts are the same way. We are always influenced by our emotions.
Therefore, it is in my best interest to keep my body as healthy as possible. To produce a happy body, a happy emotion, and a number of happy words.
I am convinced that anything I say is always emotional in function. That what I actually say matters little, it is the emotional effect I have on others that matters.
What I really mean is this: words are not abstractions of just the world, they are abstractions of both body and world: they are abstractions of context.
Sun and Steel.
The Past
Looking back on my writings before, and anyone's past histories, it is more telling of the state of mind of the person than any truth. I have to say, reading my past texts---to say I was in a bad state of mind is an understatement.
As if words could represent any being, any moment of truth. They are reflections of the soul, and a bad soul in a time in place, sure, but to believe that the soul is not temporary and transient---I would disagree.
I am led to believe that any reflection for the split second, any picture, loses the essence of what is real as the soul departs to the next epoch.
