Over the past year or so I have been thinking about how I write, not in the sense of what to write, but in how to express it. This project has been a way to add my own voice to the multitude, a whisper among the chatter of the They.1 I am not saying that I exist outside societal norms and therefore am Nietzsche’s Ubermensch preaching the Gospel. My aim with The Dark Forest is to add my own distinct voice, ideas, and queries. It is an attempt to document the human condition, in all its manifestations, good, bad and indifferent.
I have realized that sometimes I prefer a stream of consciousness approach, attempting to illustrate the complex maze of thought, tangled in a web of doubt, spurned on by the fraiglest hope of communicating God’s grace.
Other times the philosophical urge to wrestle with ontological concerns wins out. Not to mention the borderline French malaise and ennui that rivals AJ Soprano discovering Existentialism. I am still in my Kierkegaard phase I guess.
Western writing norms as well as academia expect rigorous standards, complicity and respect for tradition. Some of that has an appeal, but I realize I have commitment issues.2 Going the opposite route is still falling into the trap of the status quo. In that one is still defined through their defiance. Going right instead of left, just because it seems cool. No thanks.
Sometimes I am unsure where a piece is going, and I think uncertainly comes through. And that is okay. Authenticity is a priority here. And should be in our daily affairs. Every piece that I write, has a purpose. And is an experiment, even if it is half finished or a failure.
Thomas Edison, though a better bully than inventor3 in regards to failure responds “I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work.”I hate myself whenever I resort to a trite quote, but he is correct here. Sometimes our mistakes and failures lead to progress and discovery.
Instead of focusing on isolating my audience, and following conventions, I will continue to be polyphonic, writing with multiple pens. Much like my poems, my prose refuses to be boxed in. I want to refine and hone my craft, while also expressing myself in as many ways as possible. And that is okay. This is a testament to the human condition. And that it takes several angles to describe the hidden nature of being and truth.
Convention can be damned; being demands adaptability, elasticity, and, lastly, patience. And my brief forays with it will be documented through various lenses.
I thank all of you for your engagement and encouragement to continue. This space has enriched my own life beyond words.
Das Man in German, a state of existing in anonymity, seduced by the conformity that engulfs one’s authentic individuality.
Probably why I am thirty five years old and still single. With no kids at least not on U.S. Soil.
He stole numerous inventions and patents, much like Watson and Crick neglecting to include the contribution of Rosalind Franklin in their alleged discovery of the helix structure of DNA.
It's something I wrestle with myself. Just write whatever damn convention when it isn't in service of your goal.
Hey, as long as this means you’ll never write in the HUSTLE AND GRIND!!! style I’ll be here for it.