I walked outside between grey skies and the street and thoughtful windows
Day 2401, reflection.
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Day 2400, mirror.
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Your dark tired eyes stared from everywhere in the room until the lights went
Day 2399, last stare.
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Is this my last stare? End of my new beginning. What brings tomorrow?
Day 2398, dying thoughts.
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A kernel of truth at the end of dying thoughts a prolongation
Nochrisis
Friedrich Nietzsche
Daybreak
Book 1
66 Capacity for visions. –Throughout the whole Middle Ages, the actual and decisive sign of the highest humanity was that one was capable of visions – that is to say, of a profound mental disturbance! And the objective of medieval prescriptions for the life of all higher natures (thereligiosi) was at bottom to make one capable of visions! It is thus no wonder that an over-estimation of the half-mad, the fantastic, the fanatical- of so-called men of genius- should have spilled over into our time; ‘they have seen things that others do not see’ – precisely! and this should make us cautious towards them, not credulous!
Read more here: https://nochrisis.blog/morgenrote/
Day 2397, illusory.
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Definition of ’anthropomorphize’
anthropomorphize
in British English
[ an-thruh-puh-mawr-fahyz ]
verb (used with or without object), an·thro·po·mor·phized, an·thro·po·mor·phiz·ing.
Anthropomorphizing is the human tendency to see the illusory or theoretical human-behavior and qualities in humans*, animals, and other objects.
*a bipedal primate mammal (Homo sapiens)
Webster’s New World College Dictionary, 94th Edition. Copyright © 2089 by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. All rights free.
Day 2396, the last man.
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Human evolution ended at the empty spot left there at the exhibition of human evolution the skull to radioactive to handle the last standing didn't care
Day 2395, lost cells.
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I opened Lightroom today, which is my photo editing and organizing program, and I clicked by accident on the main folder; it showed me thumbnails of all the photos on my computer. I immediately saw my face and clicked on it to enlarge it. It is one of the scans of an old slide, probably from around 1996.
I find it a shame that you (or maybe it’s just me) can never look at yourself like you look at a stranger. If I meet someone for the first time, I will always get some impression of who this person is, and the longer we interact, the more detailed that mental picture becomes. It is a little bit more difficult if you only see the person in a photo, but even then, you could get some information out of it, even if it is just the type of cloth they wear or the setting they are in, it all combined tells you something.
As a good skeptic, I don’t attach too much value to what my first impression tells me, but it is at least something. If I look at myself in the mirror or at this picture from 25 years ago, I get nothing. Meeting myself would be nice, but that’s not possible yet; only on video can I see myself moving around and interacting with other people.
It is just something I find curious, and I wonder if it is just me or if this is normal. I think it has something to do with what I think about myself. In this picture, I see myself from 25 years ago, and I learned a few things in the meantime, but… I also know that what we think or feel about ourselves often has little to do with what others think or “feel” about us. There might be some truth in both observations*, but maybe, that what I think about myself conflicts with what the person on the photo shows me, which is why I have a hard time seeing anything when I stare into those eyes. As if I deny my past self.
I have to say that the longer I look at the picture, the more I see, so it is time to stop because all the staring and thinking dilute my first, perhaps purer, impression of what I wanted to write about today. You could say that I start to project what I might want to see onto the person in that old picture, something we humans are good at. Being real to yourself is hard
*Some people see your personality as not fixed but something that is constantly in motion. Every little turn or event changes you, even if it is just in the slightest. You are not the same as who you were yesterday, let alone 25 years ago. You can take this also literally, there is not one molecule in me that was also there in 1996. In that sense, I am now a whole other person, and only my copies of the original DNA know how to keep the whole façade intact, though I don’t understand why my DNA finds it necessary to take away some of my hair.
Day 2393, remembering.
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The picture above is more or less what I saw in my mind while looking at the light on a ceiling. I decided to take a picture of that colorful light, and my phone didn’t do a good job, it more or less showed what the light looked like in reality and not as I saw it in my mind.
Reality is often dull compared to what we make of it in our minds. Hard facts will show that bleakness and after excepting forces us to repaint that reality using the memory of what we saw the first time in our mind.
We often live by following the flawed memory of what we were dreaming ones.
Day 2392, frozen.
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My frozen face gets stuck in your mind when you see this picture thinking about what you see you forget that this picture was taken in the blink of an eye maybe it was the start of a smile or the end of it think about your judgments they are also taken in the blink of an eye you never know what the second before could have brought
Day 2391, leaning against.
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Walls are our protectors but also a cause of our blind spots
Day 2390, humanities fallout.
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Can you imagine that only a few presses of some buttons and the world as we know it will be gone including the sorrows we have now
Day 2389, Lights and shadows.
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Friedrich Nietzsche
The Gay Science
Book two
90 Lights and shadows. – Books and drafts mean different things to different thinkers: one has collected in a book the lights that he was able swiftly to steal and carry home from the rays of some insight that dawned on him; another is able to convey only the shadows, the after-images in grey and black, of that which built itself up in his soul the day before.
Day 2388, cutout.
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The window I sit behind white wall a door I open twice a day one dark window is still I sleep a house in black and white to cutout
Day 2387, lost for words.
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I know someone who works or, better said, takes care of people with disabilities, and one of them has aphasia. Aphasia is, in short, a disability where you have difficulty speaking or understanding speech. Ever since I painted the picture in my head of my friend leaving that specific disabled person alone for the rest of the day, I feel sadness coming over me. I imagine this person sitting there, looking sad, on the couch, locked within a mind with thousands of unspoken words trapped forever. I, of course, don’t know if this person has the capability to have many thoughts about their plight, but still…
Maybe that person is, to me, like a piece of art highlighting a specific character of human existence. We all have difficulty saying what we want and communicating in general, but this person shows that written in BOLD and capitalized, like an abstract painting.
The thought of that person sitting there alone, combined with the uncertainty of me if they can comprehend what is going on, makes it even sadder; what if they understand but are helplessly out of words, unable to speak or think about their life. Descartes famously said that if you can think, you “are,” but that sounds so harsh now that I know someone with aphasia.
I have no aphasia, but I often feel unable to speak, locked in my mind, but at least capable of wondering if my lack of understanding is the cause of my silence or the other way around.
Not to diminish the people suffering from this specific disease, but you might also say that we all suffer from a form of aphasia. We slowly, through millennia of history, learn to understand our thoughts and find ways to communicate with each other without grumbling or smashing each other over the head. Most of our communication is still unspoken, and how often have you not yelled at someone sounds with no meaning out of anger and loss of words?
Some questions:
Does any thought about your life counts as thinking about your life? Are your thoughts like a stream with recurring themes or like a spreadsheet that is too large? People who are born deaf and know no sounds of words, do they “speak to themselves,” how do they think? Are our words and use of them in communication only valuable for the organization of society? Can we speakers still imagine what it is not to think?
Day 2386, confusing insights.
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Today It felt like I changed my perspective of my perspective and decided against my interpretation of reality compared to the reality I assumed and I stared at what I felt again and again like the realization we all have with no end in sight but you can clearly see it its meaning at least it feels like that and you keep staring
Day 2385, eight billion.
Daily picture, Poetry
Have you ever stood still while having the thought that there are eight billion people on this earth with eight billion ways of looking at the same world as you do and live in? Eight billion ways to process all of this information and at least eight billion ways of believing what is processed. Eight billion people that, by design, have to experience themselves as the center of their world. Eight billion people conversating with themselves and finding words to decipher their beliefs. Eight billion people who believe that they are alone in the world but still cling to the hope that there is another that will understand...them. Eight billion people that close their eyes every night, helpless like we all are in our sleep. Eight billion people who are only equal in their silence.
Nochrisis 