Creative writing and artful observations

[Magical Realist]

The point being that qualia are no more ineffable than what anything else would be when phenomenal appearances are totally absent. Unlike a house, "red" does lack structure to it. But even when describing a house in terms of its components and their relationships or arrangements, that is still not manifesting the latter for an aphenomenal entity. And you eventually reach the fundamentals of house description (no more structure), where the aphenomenal intelligence has even less clue as to what you mean beyond its continuing dictionary model circularity of words referring to more words, etc.

I see the cognitive experience of semantically-defined and describable entities as something distinct from the unmediated conscious experience of qualia. The very possibility of description of say a house derives from the shared conceptualized gestalt of words and statements that represents the house for all of us. It's thingness and in-itselfness is constructed out of the context of crossreferential meanings and ideas and categories that is found only in language. A qualia say like redness otoh defies all such linguistic pinning down. It is simply as it is presented, free from any representational meaning whatsoever. We can thus always know WHAT a house is, in the mental abstractiveness of language, but we can only ever know THAT red is. "There are, indeed, things that are inexpressible. They show themselves. They are what is mystical.” — Ludwig Wittgenstein.

[Magical Realist]

The dilemma of our time is the mystery of our identity as humans. We are increasingly encountering the prospect that our very definition of ourselves as some sort of category of static being, some objective semantically-predicated entity, even makes sense anymore. The emergence of such non-human aspects of being such as aliens, AI, mental illness, consciousness research, and dehumanizing technologies foists upon us the question of whether identity, as simply being "such and such", is even a real thing.

It isn't. It's a cultural language game, a mental abstraction, creating the illusion that we are some sort of unchanging physical thing that can be readily defined and referenced. But the mystery is looming over us that we are NOT such discrete natural objects and that we are shedding our selfness, our essence, in a reality increasingly confronting us with the likelihood of our own undefinability and ultimately transemantical realness. In sort, we are beginning to understand ourselves as time itself, whatever that even is. Consciousness is made of the same stuff Time is. The movie playing inside our heads is the movie playing outside it as well.

"I'm not a big believer in identity. I think we should be easier on ourselves. The fight, stress, strain, and pain associated with the burden of identifying oneself is a problem humans create.”---Tilda Swinton

[Magical Realist]

White light contains within itself all the colors of the rainbow. Thus does it paint our world with vibrant hues even as it illuminates those hues. All we ever really see is light. Except when we're dreaming.

[Magical Realist]

Varying shades of interiority:

1) Like colors inside of white light.
2) Like music inside of sound.
3) Like the body inside the flesh.
4) Like the intent inside the look.
4) Like the dream inside of sleep.
5) Like the danger inside an omen.
6) Like the drop inside the ocean.
7) Like the person inside their belongings.
? Like the flavor inside the soup.
9) Like the memory inside the reminder.
10) Like the internet inside your cellphone.
11) Like the artist inside his masterpiece.
12) Like the answer inside the question.
13) Like the hope inside the promise.
14) Like the bubble inside the water.
15) Like the place inside the scene.
16) Like the character inside a story.
17) Like the woman inside the girl.
18) Like the truth inside the appearance.
19) Like the storm inside the clouds.
20) Like our reflection inside a mirror.

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How far can the threshold between inside and outside be before the inside becomes the new outside?

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The old never change and the young never change. Which means all hope rests on the shoulders of the middle-aged. We are all doomed!

[Magical Realist]

We know for a fact, from the event of our birth, that non-existence isn't a permanent state. As if not existing could be any state at all. Why then do we assume as much about our death?

[Magical Realist]

Avoidance is always a failproof strategy. Because the easiest way of never having to say good-bye is never saying hello to begin with.

[Magical Realist]

We prefer our truths diluted, warmed up and taken with a little cream and sugar. Nobody wants to hear the cold hard truths--the ones that shake us out of our stupor and keep us awake at night.

[Magical Realist]

Trapped as we are between a world of meaningless objects and a realm of abstract meanings, we are left with only language, which is the power to give objects meaning, and art, which is the power to turn abstractions into objects.

[Magical Realist]

Science is bent on constructing maps for a universe no one lives in anymore. Because of what use are maps for a place where you live everyday and know like the back of your hand? We can't live inside maps. We can't live in a place that requires constant mapping. We only live inside real worlds that we are comfortable in and have made our home in.

[Magical Realist]

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