Hey guys. I’m gonna drop the authorial voice for just a bit to explain the cell division that has taken place on this newsletter. If you ever navigate to it’s homepage and look at the top there’s a header that leads to A Branching Limb which is a subletter of this larger newsletter One Who Walks The Path to Befuddlement.
I decided to do this not only because it’s a nifty new feature on Substack but because there’s a differentiation happening in my lines of writing that makes use of it. There’s not much Befuddlement in some of the things that I’ll be posting; they’re going to be full of trying to make sense and have the goal of getting somewhere sensible.
The reason for that is that life cannot be entirely befuddling, sadly, but even the befuddlement might change it’s tenor as well because this world is befuddling in very strange ways, very old ways, very ideological ways, very human ways. So I’d just like to explain:
The Path is my observations of what I can’t change. It’s looking out to the world and reporting on what’s moving around me. This is a place of acceptance because I’m not it’s actor. One must allow befuddlement to wash over them in such a place because to do anything else is not your place.
A Branching Limb, in contrast, is the pinnacle of my own personal insanity because it foresees a way in which I can have an effect on the world. Observances might be interesting and thought provoking but what if I could provide something more pointed? Perhaps towards an expansion of one’s own abilities; Could I dare to help people branch out?
What is my reason?
For anything to mean anything something in particular must be averting something else. That is to say; To foresee is to foretell and to foretell is to free. I write to get away from everything that could easily be. I don’t want to be a prisoner to what comes and I don’t want it for anyone else. These events would create themselves if the words did not divert our steps. There is a great deal of unconscious living occurring in my life and in many lives. Do we want to get somewhere we didn’t even choose to go? I’ve spoken to the people who have. They’re very sad. How is a person supposed to escape from that? A life all made up in all the wrong ways. I write to save.
I didn’t change over to drawing my thumbnails only because I ran out of photos on my phone. I’ve been illustrating my trove of writing materials for some years now and so I’ve evolved this in the same direction because maybe I was being too esoteric for anyone to care.
It’s all a work in progress. It’s all a matter of adaptation. Born to live to die. Everything but my writing is amateur after all (and the writing’s just a dream).
I am, in a sense, an iceberg as is expected of authors worth a damn so there’s plenty in the works and things yet to be revealed. Thank you all for reading and I hope to carry on to not only bigger and better postings but to projects that expand beyond what Substack can support (booklet?…books?)
Everything I’ve posted on here is original composition but I might dabble in excerpts in the future because I believe a taste is better than a summary and those will have their own subletter as well so you know what’s promotional and what’s not.
Later y’all,
Geoffrey