Wittgenstein (Rochan)
I was told once that all the world's troubles can be solved with something to do for a man in an empty room.
"Soon it will be six and even sooner, eight." (c. 2024?)
The weekday is a horror we live again and again. There aren't many tasks assigned to humans as dreadful as the perpetual winding of ease and angst across the seven day period.
I've now given up trying to forcefully bring Wittgenstein's theories to my writing and I've also given up on imitating the opening scene of Summer in Algiers. I feel out of place in my own writing as the reader. Really my writing is only for myself because I am the only one who knows how it was written. Wittgenstein argues that language or communication is simply bringing up pictures in another man's mind with the landmark example being a palm tree on a shore. You can easily understand within a few action potentials that this might clearly be the case. I am the only person with my picture book and it's purely intangible.
When I was younger I remember thinking my ancestors would always be following me. Watching what I do and partaking in every one of my experiences.
This was because my parents were strict Hindus who believed in the afterlife and reincarnation. A very improbable system.
I can't recall a time changing my behavior due to thinking I was being watched. I can recall not thinking about being watched and not changing my behavior.
"In my opinion, one who intends to write a book ought to consider carefully the subject about which he wishes to write" (Concept of Anxiety)
My brother is writing a book but the subject he considers is meaningless. The subject of his writing is as fickle as the mind's preoccupations throughout the day which is exactly what it is. Can you imagine a more flimsy backing for a more serious subject?
I am now writing about my brother writing about me writing which may have been influenced by his writing. I love my brother and I adore him.