this always seemed to describe one half of what it means to be human.

the crazy people, and the not-crazy people.

two somewhat important -- less important, more time-consuming people in recent memory have been "crazy". in varying ways, they were able to blend in with the not-crazy archetype, drawing themselves as plausible characters integrated into the social landscape.

it takes time to find out what meter a person actually uses to separate, combine and attempt to harmonize their sometimes contradictory parts.

recently, though, the wall between the crazy and the not-crazy seems to be crumbling. personally, reality has never been a static entity.

intrapersonally, levels of consciousness change; the feeling of what happens is a momentary experience, always unravelling in unexpected ways depending on the underlying textures of what came before and it crashes headlong into what could be, would be, can be and will be.

interpersonally, the bounded chaos of shared language hides the irreducible complexity of our thoughts. conversation is often a guessing game of what comes next versus an array of common responses remembered from past experience.

between self and world, it seems that all of the illusions of texture, arrays of shared guesswork patched together into semi-reliable human-as-object orientations, complexity reduced to commonality, all of it is a reflection of the eyes that see it.

the wall is actually semi-permeable. it is a membrane that allows certain compositions of thoughts, perceptions and intentions to pass through while restricting others. not-crazy depends as much on crazy as the second does the first. what of those who sit on the wall itself, who exist on the borderline, and actually comprise it?

not to use the word borderline in the stereotypical psychological sense, either, considering that psychological norms are inherently typed -- typed meaning that they place emphasis on certain attributes while allowing others to fade into obscurity. who decides what elements of a person are worth counting toward the sum of their experience?

it is refreshingly difficult to grasp the possible number of variables that comprise any single individual. not all of them -- perhaps not even most of them -- can be counted, much less fully described. as their multifaceted constellations present in nonstandard ways, according to whom can a person be categorized? if we are all instances of the same object -- the person object -- how can behaviours be isolated and given truth values? are they not simply differences, after all?

of course, these questions apply to non-pathological behaviors. liberating, in a way. maybe.

motion: peter naess . mozart and the whale

...i write a story."

for some reason (or not), the words were sent in an email.

it was near the end of our moment, anyway. as friends.
so the strange impulse took hold and it became a game.

age seems to change some parts, while other parts take their
time. love is one of those other parts?

in a way, love has the same pull as the idea of having children.
either the idea is strongly attractive, or strongly

something else.

it would be an amusing moment to see how many people marry
because they are tired, or have children because they are
bored on some existential level. or how many fall in love
because they've been told that being unattached simply won't do.

what if these assumptions were completely inside out... who would
decide for themselves what outside in looks like, to reverse
the cultural pressure and open the possibility
of other paths through life.

what would those paths be named. or would they need names
at all.

these can be statements or questions, depending on how
they are read.