RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition who publishes zines & physical books & electronic books & music & photography & digital art & just generally whatever feels necessary to survive this deluded earth thru Rojonekku Word Fighting Arts survival systems (Version 69, establish 14 Feb 1973). Comments encouraged.

Sunday, August 23

45s on 33 – #18: “Tired of Being Alone”

I wrote a cycle of sonnets about exercises in futility (probably multiple ones actually) and it seems even more relevant than ever as I continue to pitter patter through these processes very much like skipping pebbles into a creek in the middle of nowhere. The one difference though is pebbles into the creek put you actually into the woods, hearing the creek crinkle and trees rustle and shit like that, thus its not that futile. This exercise in futility called this here lacks that. There are only blips and bloops and redirects and refreshed loops.
I have a fairly hermetic personality, so I’ve often thought about what is a human’s true social nature. Are we tribal creatures, or are we fine all alone? Which is our preference? Through half-a-lifetime of self-science, I can say I’m firmly of the belief we are a tribal animal, and need that interaction, even when hermetic by our individual nature. Our technocracy feels uncomfortable to me, on a larger level, because this basic human necessity has been redirected (literally) through the technology, and though I’m not going to suggest that type of connection is fake, I will say it is not as deep and able to survive conflict. For example, if there were power grid failure for two weeks and all the battery power was gone from devices, those connections are gone, unless solidified in physical life as well.
There are times where solitude no longer feeds me. The problem is I mostly cultivate solitude, which reaps solitude. Being alone does not accidentally reap a bunch of motherfuckers being around. So when the solitude no longer feeds me, I have to go seek external sources of energy – not battery power type energy but that real fucking life energy that makes it so you wake up in the morning not wishing the day was already over. I can’t seem to find it right now though. I can work on inputs and try to adjust whatever factors internal chemistry might have in this process (and I’m so fucking thankful I’m way more conscious of that shit now than I used to be), but it doesn’t change the fact it seems harder to connect today. Even when connecting, the redirect gets in the way, perhaps for you perhaps for the other person, and true attentive connection is always just one window inside another person’s mind with about twenty-five tabs open at all times. It’s a weird fucking time. We may not realize it’s a dystopia until twenty years later. And most folks may not ever truly realize it. That’s why it’s called a dystopia.

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