Consciousness is a funny thing.
It’s a complex subject, and one that captivates me.
In fact, consciousness is what allows me to be captivated.
It’s what enables me to write this, and you to read this (presuming anyone is reading this).
Consciousness allows for subjectivity, and subjectivity
demands consciousness.
Consciousness is history.
It’s the passage of time. It’s your favorite band. It’s
nostalgia. It’s depression.
It’s hope. It’s
story.
It’s Ouroboros.
My interest in this arose
out of alarm. My consciousness, my subjective experience, ignited young and
crept along at a slow burn. I was confused by the flame, and ran from it.
That’s like running into a different room to escape a
burning house.
After the inevitable failure of flight, I tried to drown it.
I poured gin and whiskey into my wetware and it soaked through my life until my
bones absorbed it.
That’s like trying to put out a fire with kerosene.
Finally, after exhausting myself, those around me, and all
other options besides lying down to die, I decided to simply let the flames burn.
And here I smolder.
Soon to follow will be the first entry in a 3 part series
I’m writing on consciousness.
Part 1: My story
or: A Ride with T-Bird and the Boys.
Part 2: My study
or: It’s More Than I Thought!
Part 3: My sojourn
or: Holding Hands with Marla.
I’ve been meaning to write this for a long time. It will be
deeply personal, but also as academic as I’ve ever dared in my writing. The
first part will be about my initial conflicts, mental health, addiction, and destruction.
The second part will be comprised of my (limited) studies
into what exactly may be going on behind the scenes, and what that may imply
for me as an individual, and an attempt to pull that veil of clouds back from
across the great confused green sea.
And the third part will be my adaptive strategies, my
current modality in terms of living as one of and amongst the confused, and any
significant insights I’ve gleamed from my time in the trenches.
I hope it comes together in a cohesive and digestible
manner. I hope it’s beneficial to others, and cathartic for myself.
I hope.
It’s been awhile since I have written.
Forgive me my hyperbole.
More soon.
-Jay
