Hello ! Welcome to spike’s niche presence on the interwebs, my “bright white mindspace” if you will. It’s a personal blog + journal, where I wax ancedotal ennui into palatable pixellated screen as canvas, or rather “my life as an art installation, in an apartment gallery with a body outline in chalk on the ground. Bring your own organic wine and some cave cheese if you please”.
This is the brain of my heart, and the heart of my brain, coalescing in a sushi burrito of light and self sustaining succor. I need this just as much as you do, and you do, whether you admit it to me or to the world it makes little difference.
Why is this ? Simply put, this is a bastion of self awareness, personal and up front, full of mischief and mayhem, reflection and direction, my secret plans, my spy reports, and very of course what I ate for lunch yesterday, some random strange conversation I had with a stranger, or a review of a book you might have already read way more than I have. A book which you either really loved, hated, or waited for the movie adaptation. How do I articulate life into a blog format anyway, how do I convey it in such a way that you would find it read worthy without wanting to cringe, eyeroll, get annoyed at how beautiful, lovely, inspiring, or frightening I’m trying so hard/not hard at all to be at this moment of convergence ? Whatever might come, and whatever form it comes in, I pray you appreciate my exertion, my attention to life, my personal thought life however uncouth and unrefined, beautiful and hideous it might be. It’s imperative that you come to understand that it was for me, selfishly and remorselessly the whole entire time, this love affair isn’t carnal and fleshly, but there’s a purity to it.
I’m just your average enhanced human, etching out an existence in this game of life.
I’m a poet from the city of Chicago, who enjoys writing the thought life (and the writing life, too) on the daily, waxing anecdotal entries like a therapist making recordings regarding their various clients into a audio recording device. Thus this is poor mans therapy for me, and my own client ? Is me, analyzing, assessing, and recommending dosages of positive, change, uplift. And that’s where I differ with say a true therapist, who will have you re-experience the negative as if that were to heal you and do you an ounce of good (it doesn’t). I want you to know things, I enjoy expressing the essence of me without force feeding you that, instead allow you to come in no as a tourist but a friend and to have a look around of your own volition. Not at gunpoint, nor a bribe of taco bell coupons and flashiness (which has worked wonders in the past as my nefarious forms of self marketing). This is simply an art installation of my thought life, and the pixellated screen my canvas, the paint is the tumultuous ennui of an existence you otherwise would be ignorant of. It’s not a burning desire to virally spread and amass a cult of lotus eater followers, either, although that’s been my retirement plan 🙂 (that was my joke).
I started out early in life in art and writing, and being a natural creative was only, well, natural. We didn’t have internets, and life was way more beautiful then, purer, full of aliveness and energies I can’t begin to describe. Far more romantic, and people weren’t such scared little rabbits afraid of their own shadows, or their own voices, or to argue those intimate, deep arguments without retreat or surrender, or “calm down” the moment it begins turning interesting. Like the fake news media, it seems that people want to be fake people, who would prefer to stare into screens and tune out the world than love life and be spontaneous.
This is all I had to say on the subject of myself, please enjoy.