The Illusion of Freedom

I’ve tried something new with this. Although I haven’t posted in a while, I have been writing for myself, and after skimming through what I guess you could call a diary, I’ve picked out this piece as being most worthy of posting. About 90% of this was ad libbed very late in the evening, and the other 10% is tidying up. I’ve left all the stop-starty grammar in as it represents my headspace, and pace of thought at the time most accurately.

Anyway, enough babbling. Here’s some more babbling, enjoy…


Well. We’re really in for it now. I just heard Joe Rogan say he has it on good authority that a piece of technology is being worked on that will allow conversations to be heard clearly from satellites. Now that’s really not on. This is the kind of shit where I just say – all right enough now.

I think it’s really pushing it. All this surveillance, I think it’s really pushing people. I’m a free spirit. I can’t be tied down. It doesn’t matter how big your cage is, you still don’t want to be in a cage. It feels weird. Different. It’s like The Truman show, he’s more than happy living his happy life in his little town, but as soon as he finds out there’s a limit, a border, he wants out. I guess that’s just human nature, that’s why we had to cross the land bridges, why we had to sail across the seas, and now why we have to shoot ourselves into the abyss of space.


If you wanted to disconnect back in the day, and I’m talking like 10 years ago, you could just leave your phone at home, or just have a brick. And before then there was no reason to disconnect, that wasn’t even a thing. Now. Now you’ve got to leave your phone, your watch…

That sounded good in my head but I’ve not actually got any more examples.

The price of disconnecting is not immune to rising rates of inflation. China already has facial recognition on every street corner, and our government is probably doing it too but they just don’t have the big dick energy of our communist cousins to admit it.

The fact is, soon, to be truly alone you’re going to have to find one of the few places globalism hasn’t touched yet, trading your computer for a wooden spear. A true cashless society, where you exchange your meals from the jungle with your own poop which it can use as fertiliser, and eventually your own body when you finally die.

Brexit Brexit / Boris

No wonder people are depressed. We carry round glass rectangles in our pockets that give us testicular cancer and tell us we’re ugly. Ruby and I were at Cosy Club in Southgate after work one evening, and from where we were sitting on the balcony, we were about level with a bare tree. At this time of year, the tree is home to a large flock of very small birds. As we talked, we watched as the birds dance around each other before coming to the occasional stop on a wiry branch. Eventually the birds stopped all together, and it appeared they had gone to sleep at a very respectable time of 6:30pm. 

They never get a break I said. All animals, they’re at it all day. Life or death decisions are a part of normal functioning. They don’t get to go home and watch House of Games, hosted by Richard Osman whilst drinking tea with their mothers. Those birds, with not an ounce fat on them, were sleeping outside, on a leafless tree, in the cold, with no hat or coat or anything. 

I bet they’re not depressed though.

This life they live which is supposedly so much harder than ours, causes them no problems. They may experience sadness when a friend or relative gets eaten by a cat, but wouldn’t you too? I can’t understand bird, but I don’t imagine they’re big complainers. There’s probably no translation for such thing as ‘a Karen’. Birds are always flying and singing – two signs of a happy life.

Birds.  Will not line up outside the Apple store.  To spend a months wages. On the latest glass rectangle. That’s gonna give them cancer. And call them ugly.

It just won’t happen.

i only paint when i’m sad

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