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My Personal Motives and Development

There is many dimensions to these essays I am writing. There are a string of essays that must necessarily be written, and they are essays articulating my motives. Naturally I have been focused on what men "ought" to do, and actually I am articulating my own crystalline structure simultaneously. When I speak about the "ought" for men, I am speaking about myself also, as power is not above the law. What is it that I hope to achieve? And finally, realistically, what is it that I think will happen?

I have spent most of my life creating. When I was a kid, around 9 or 10 years old I drew comics, wrote in a journal and messed around with an old tape recorder. When I became older, around 13 to 16 yrs, I started skateboarding, surfing, snowboarding, playing guitar, and writing songs. I did these activities to keep myself occupied, but, while I loved music for what it was, being a child my motives where more like a song bird trying to attract the opposite sex. I played in bands professionally until my early 20's. After a while, making music for money and girls became a sort of old feeling that I had in music when I first started. As I was growing in music, I became more competitive and wanted just to be a good musician. I wanted to be technical. During the time I was playing in bands, I was also creating art. I created websites, graphics, and illustrations. My motives were the same. I wanted to be a designer's designer, and artist's artist. After a while I began to realize that attempting to cater to the people that you yourself are, made your style more esoteric. The music I was playing was only interesting to a small group. The art I was making, and still make was not really interesting to anybody, so what was the point? It is clear that there would be no validation or recognition for what I was doing. Once I came to that understanding, I realized that the only thing that was keeping me going was my pure love of finding the mathematical theories that underpin everyday life in rhythm, sound, words and color. My motives shifted from more adolescent drives, to more mature drives, but I was still doing the same things. Then, after awhile I started to realize that I had been doing so many different activities, pulling basic mathematical theories from all of them, and I could start comparing them together, finding common mathematical themes. My whole life, I made a promise to myself that I would let my feelings guide me in my art and my music. I knew my art was not all that popular, but I did not change, because it was what I wanted to do. I listened to speed metal music, but when I played guitar I played funk punk. Why is that? Because I listened to what I wanted to hear, and I played what I wanted to play and they just happened to not coincide. What I learned is that it seemed like I was a polymath. Nobody respects a polymath, they all respect the specialist. But I was a specialist. My specialty was pulling basic mathematical rhythms out of music, out of poetry, out of graphic design, out of drawing. Even skateboarding, snowboarding and surfing have helped me see simplistic rhythms. What I am a specialist in, is drawing the a priori imposition out, and making it as obvious as possible. In the same way we can perceive a circle in our minds, we perceive more complicated movements that already exist, and they exhibit themselves through us though it is unconscious to most. My goal is to make this unconscious exhibition conscious to myself, and I have been quite successful. When one understands more than the people around them about unconscious indicators, one becomes all to aware of things one did not expect to learn, and the great and terrible of what makes up the present life becomes so much more clear.

When I turned 30 years old, I had major health problems. Most of my creativity was riding on my ability to use my right arm at my own whim; drawing, designing, writing, illustration, all was contingent upon my youthful vitality. Well, I injured my arm on the job. I now had severe tendonitis and could not create anymore. It was a crisis for me, I was so comfortable, and now I was being dictated to by physical contingency. I was told I had to give up everything. What I did, is throw myself into books. I started reading history, science, and philosophy. I did comparative religious studies, and studied sociology and a anthropology. I came to the realization that education itself was very similar to music, to design, to poetry. Education was learning how to write a beautiful song with your life. What could be a more wonderful magnum opus than to write beautiful music with your life, culminating in a beaming virtue? This was my new mission. I had made destruction into gold. Many philosophers remark that a man gains wisdom through injury, and to me, this is more than just an opportunistic truth. Injury crushed my ego, and woke me up to the reality that only during our vital years do we maximize our lives on our terms, but with age, you really begin a dance of destruction. The universe says," I will allow you to go on, except on my terms. You can fight me, but you will pay in pain." When dictated to, this maxim, by the universe, I became suicidal. The crushing of your ego is devastating. I was discussing suicide with somebody on the web, and they devastated me further. They said," You want to commit suicide, because you want everything on your own terms!" That crushed me in its correctness. I was so selfish. I wanted it all my own way, or no way at all. That turning point helped me realize, the truth of my mission was to fight until the bloody end against disorder! Like Nietzsche, I would create myself into fever pitch, which would only end in my death. Realistically, Nietzsche was pensioned off, and was already a famous writer so he could afford such a romantic end. I am sure my end will be much more messy.

In my studies, I began to see the rhythms showing themselves to me, in the same way in which I saw them in music and design. I started to see this object all people seem to be tending toward, whether they turn and negate it, skew off in confusion, or swim toward it in their limitations, it became more clear to me. Then when I started polishing the lens I started to see, it is not actually that complicated to understand this. Since then I have been on a mission to use my knowledge of marketing, my understanding of the unconscious, and my last bit of lingering energy to find a way to bring this truly object oriented reality out in a realistic way so we can cleanse those who are holding on to disoriented simulations, and point the way generally to those who have no idea.

If you were to ask me what I thought realistically will happen, this is what I would say: I will keep writing, and reading. I will keep trying to get the message out. There will be a small group of people who are exposed to my ideas, and an even smaller group who will take anything away from them. I will be forgotten, because my reputation will not have proceeded me in a validation of the other. Ultimately, the only difference that I will make is the profound difference that my search has for me. I would never live any differently. If I had total power, then I would only change the universe's mind about raping me of my vitality, though, I would still welcome injury at a later date to crush my ego beyond my control. This was absolutely necessary, though I do not like the idea of suffering so much for so many years. I do not expect any validation or understanding of my work, even, if not especially from my family and friends. Nevertheless, I see so clearly this object, every time I write an essay. It is as if I am taking a photo. Every essay gets me closer to that close up photograph, and I can only dream it will land on the wall of the majority for their benefit someday, before or after my death it only makes a difference in my ease of suffering.


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