Unarchiving: Amnesia & Innocence
I spent much of the day as a robot, a saint a poet and a worker.
It's as if different parts of my body requested this of me. My hand would ask me to use it. I would therefore do something with my hand like pick up a cup or pet my hair.
It's as if I was a servant of the universe, of God. If I lived my life selflessly and in service to the greater calling of the universe as it expresses itself through me then I would follow my deepest and profound desires as well as go on unprecedented, wacky adventures. I didn't actually, but this task of the day did rewire my brain logic and open me up to surprising dimensions of possible realities...realities that are always present apparently but that I keep underneath a thin blanket cover in my living space it seemed.
It's as if the 90% of my unused brain (or whatever percentage of brain that is generally not used by humans at this stage of our evolution) was asking for circulation and expression. Only poetry in the form of word association and non-attachment to outcome could make any sense. Would this make sense to an audience? Perhaps. It would set a mood the way listening to high-vibrational youtube sound videos do when I'm working or cleaning for over an hour.
It's as if I need to work to survive in both pleasant ways and unpleasant ways. How am I used, and is it for any benefit? Just the richer in this capitalist system? I also like to work and feel accomplished and well-used. I did clean my flat this day and teach a dance class. I was of service to my space, my students and my own life.
Funded by the Federal Government Commissioner for Culture and Media within the framework of the initiative NEUSTART KULTUR, aid programm DIS-TANZEN by the Dachverband Tanz Deutschland