Hypertext is a coked-up rooster on a go-cart

I’m spitting crack-potpourri right now because I can. Writing on the verge of nonsense (which is the superfluity of sense…not the absence of it). My writing is all over the place, it’s nonlinear, it’s not safe because language is lustful and it likes to tease and pass notes. I’m standing naked after making each drastic leap as I’m on this journey to try to get to where I think I’m going, but really I never reach it. I’m a Patchwork Girl, the poster child of hypertext. I’m trying to grip on to reality but my mind is shutting it out and deciding what it wants to be real. Is this disorienting? Do I have your mind salsa-dancing all over the place, trying to figure out the conclusion of this string of rambling thoughts? Good, I’ve achieved the goal. We should not should not be working towards closure because that’s like hurling yourself into the future and racing to be nothing but over. You don’t like this? Fine. Other people are wrong…rule of thumb. Sorry for being a stitch bitch.

I think Shelley Jackson and Lady Gaga would be BFFLs. Someone should set them up. They both love monsters. Everyone listens to a monster.

What we imagine is all that animates us, not just texts, but also people. A beaker of imaginal secretions makes us all desire’s monsters, which is what we ought to be.

Shelley Jackson, I love you. You’re a stitch bitch, but so am I. You had my mind doing somersaults, trying to grip on to some meaning, and just when I thought I had it…I lost it. But it always comes back. You understand that reality is not real. It is just what we make it.

We’re not who we say we are. You’re not where you think you are. I’m not where you say I am. You won’t get where you think you’re going. It’s not what we wish it were. We don’t think what we think we think. It’s not what it says it is. She’s not what he says she is. I’m not what you think I am. We are not who we wish we were. We don’t say what we mean to say. It’s not all you think it is. It was not how they said it was.

It is our perceptions of what’s going on around us and how our mind wants to interpret it…that is what is real. It may not always make sense, but trying to carefully guard sense in life “squelches curiosity, change, variety, and finally, all delights in life.” As producers of interactive media, we don’t want to follow the rules of common sense. We want to push boundaries, sneak as close to the limits as possible without actually reaching it. We can be the authors of what is possible. We can break boundaries, rather than narrow them. What we imagine is what we can make real.

Reminds me of Harry Potter. Call Dumbledore what you want, he’s wise as shit.

Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?

If it’s in your head, it’s yours to express.