Modus Operandi

Moving through different spaces, layers, and subjective time-zones. In a way, I see them as different hubs where each needs a different input/output matrix, fine-adjusted accordingly. I have always hated the human definition of "role" with a passion. I have always seen it as a half-assed mask of a fragmented personality giving its wearer the needed confidence and support needed, and at the same time a vessel of sorts to blend in to the given circumstance. I am fully aware that there are industries and careers where aforementioned is somewhat needed, or even required.

You see, there is a difference between a skill-set needed for a part to play, and an identity adopted to play a part. A role is always, and without exception, handed down (or sideways) from outside. It is formed by peer-pressure based largely on assumptions, and then projected hopes that an individual assuming the role tries to fulfill.

Adjusting your input/output according to the task at hand is not playing, or assuming a role. It is an internal process, chosen by the individual, to meet the challenge. There are thousands of half-assed self-help books, and an alarmingly growing number of troglodytes promoting them, that will encourage you to brown-tongue your superiors "so that you would be happier". I have to agree with Denis Leary on his definition of happiness. It comes in small dozes, very rarely, and after you receive your month's doze of happiness, then you just shut the fuck up, and go to work.

Given to Fly

...and I dreamt I could levitate.

How wonderfully strange.

Night World

I have only began to have dreams again for the first time in eight years. My first nightmare occurred last night. Strange how this mind/machine reacts to the quality of input. I must find out more.

Idus Martiae

The Ides of March is upon us. The Romans began their new year in the beginning of March, and as it turns out, the beginning of March 2013 is a beginning of new era for yours truly as well.

Blood red wine and auburn brandy will serve. I might even remember to pour one for the ancients...

Cinematic

The following was written four months ago:


"I really should be asleep right now.

The opening gala is tomorrow evening, and the alarm sounds somewhere around five in the morning. Days rush past in blur and I have hardly noticed the change of season. Hell, I have hardly noticed anything at all. This self-imposed cocoon is a self-contained world outside which there is nothing. The focus and determination manifested right now are nothing like ever before. I am at the furthest and highest end of my skill set right now.

I hope it is enough."

Dawn

A quiet Monday morning at the Eleven Productions HQ. Dead Can Dance "Anastasis" pours from the study speakers, complimenting the whiter shade of pale of the winter landscape opening from the corner windows.

The previous project ended last thursday. It was ended by forces and circumstances beyond my reach, beyond my grasp. I saw it coming a mile and a month away. There is hardly anything that surprises me in this world.

The pale sun glares just above the horizon. Things are the way they are supposed to be. I will return to writing shortly.

iTunes just started cranking out Puscifer's "Tiny Monsters".

I smile.