I Only Sit at the PC
Foucault. Luhmann. Systems theory. I only sit at the PC.
When I look up to the upper right, that is my Wickie moment (Vicky the Viking, 1974). The point where something clicks. Where a connection appears that I had only sensed before.
For a long time, it seemed closed off. Me and the world out there. Through the methodology, though, I am beginning to understand why things are the way they are. The picture is starting to wobble, and that is a good thing.
From the outside comes the advice: Go spend time with people. Well intended. And it misses something. Not because I dislike people. But because many perceptions happen at once – simultaneously, layered on top of each other, without pause. And my mouth is the slowest channel. The most contradictory one. It says things I did not mean that way. The linear format of speech does the rest – one thought after another, even though they are actually there at the same time. That is why I struggle with the red thread. Not because there is none. But because it does not run in sequence.
At the PC, it does.
Me, the keyboard, the monitor. Fingers flying across the keys in touch typing. This is not a metaphor for retreat. It is the moment when thinking and expression move at the same speed. Where I can say what I mean. Where the thread does not break.
Otherwise, I play games. For more than a year now, I have also been writing. Apparently, I still only sit at the PC. But while doing so, I am beginning to understand why things are the way they are. What might be healthy. And why I still do things the way I do.
There are sentences that come from society. Take yourself seriously. As a man, you do not do things like this anymore – PC, gaming, Luhmann in your head, no visible result. Seriousness measured against a traditional image.
I turn that around.
I take myself seriously. By my own standards. Standards that make sense to me.
Psychology would have suggestions. Physiology as well. More movement, more contact, more light. The body wants what evolution taught it to want. Memory wants repetition – it pulls us toward what feels familiar, even when familiar does not necessarily mean good. I know that. I know it quite well.
And yet, I am still sitting here.
Not because I do not understand the advice. But because why exactly this way is a different question from what would be better. Why asks about the system behind it. About the logic that brought me here – a logic that is not wrong simply because it looks unusual.
Wasted lifetime – I think that is an idea I planted in myself. And one I struggle to overcome. I know what would make sense psychologically. Sociologically too. Knowledge does not live on the same floor as feeling.
Vital Intelligence as a goal – I wrote about it months ago, but the definition is still unfinished. The concept has not quite decided what it wants to be. Yet it points in a direction: not optimisation. Not adaptation to an image. Something that remains alive. Something that works because it is coherent, not because it was quickly judged.
I do not write my value as a number between one and ten. I write it in words that feel like me.
That sounds simple. Almost banal.
It is the hardest thing I know.
But the Wickie moment is still up there in the upper right.
And that belongs to me.
Written on June 14, 2026 at 17:20. © 2026 Whisper7. All rights reserved.