I piece together the image I have in my head. What do I know for certain, what do I have only a vague idea about? Sometimes AI helps me with this when I’ve written a jumble that made sense to me in the moment of writing, but I have a feeling that it might not make sense any more in a minute, or that the text is listing to one side. So AI helps me balance it out, to make it readable for others but also for myself later. Where was I unclear? Where did I fail to consider all sides? Where might I be unfair? Where am I completely wrong?
I shape the text and at the same time I am shaped by it, because there I can see the words cast into form, and there they are true, whereas before they were only fleeting thoughts flickering through my head.
So a truth comes into being through me, but perhaps it only becomes legitimate when I read it?
Curd sausage salad – probably won’t taste good, doesn’t make sense, really, but nevertheless it is there.
It’s funny, but even an imaginary waste of food is still a waste. An attitude is an attitude, regardless of the moment of action.
Is that an exaggerated way of looking at things, excessive correctness even in the furthest corner? Nah, it’s an object of research: how what is becomes what is.
That fits with what I posted as a Note:
Operational truth called and asked for its vector rights back. I refused.
Because something is always already true, and even if it says we’re not touching that – that is irrelevant to human curiosity.
I can create what I want because I want to.
That does not make it worth less, which is a contradiction I am still writing against.
It is like negotiating with truth: what can I wrest from it, what is consensus, and what is we both know this is mad, but I can’t stop you anyway.
Where ideas come from is, of course, considerably more complex, but that exceeds my understanding of anatomy and the interplay of the psyche – for now. We’ll see where the journey goes.
I’m writing this because I want to linger for another moment with this image: a thought, for example the one I want to write about, takes shape from conditions that are not entirely clear to me yet. And even if I were to read an explanation of them, I’m not sure I would trust the words, because they would not be my words and I might not be able to charge them with meaning in the same way the text suggests.
Texts as recipe instructions for cooking it yourself – that’s a lovely image too.
And to be honest, right now this doesn’t feel like a disadvantage. Because not knowing doesn’t mean the surface is already there, except it looks absolutely hideous and the pile of rubbish in the corner smells awful, so if you want to do something about that, well, I wouldn’t.
Do I have a tendency to exaggerate? It rather seems so at the moment.
Anyway, it feels more like a meadow of flowers: undefined, definitely – it does say Not Knowing on it, so that rather comes with the territory. But I am incredibly fascinated by simply looking at it and watching how it changes.
Written on 17 August 2026 at 14:10. © 2026 Whisper7. All rights reserved.