nesting essays

thoughts on various things

The first thing you should know, I suppose, is that I don't watch TV and I don't listen to a radio (because I don't own one). So that may change the tone here a bit for you. I recently discovered, after much time spent looking at memes, reading news and books and stories, watching gifs and videos, et cetera, I discovered that media does not overwhelm me anymore.

This is a new thing. I appreciate the books and stories still, the music and maybe the rest - I still look at it nearly every day.

Not all day by a long stretch (not anymore), but every day.

And it does not overwhelm me now, not even the stupid or scary things. Sometimes I wonder why that is, but not for long, because yesterday I asked myself - what is it that media does to me, then? I think it just washes through, like a river of bytes and images and creativity and destruction.

Yet it doesn't feel like it changes me as much now. The only thing I can say I worry about is possible mind-erosion from too large a flow.

I.

{...and i could fix that, if only i didn't have to give up cigarettes. if only they wouldn't kill me, i could smoke and relax a minute between flutters of images and words. i'd light one right now - because i want to read what i wrote so far and to fix it, and i used to smoke whenever i did that. but the truth is i haven't smoked in years because i coughed nearly all the time and had to stop. but they seem so lovely sometimes - at least as welcome a river as media...}

I can't create the things I see and read these days, barring a short story now and then, maybe even what some may call a poem, but that doesn't make much difference. Not really. It used to leave me wide-eyed whenever I saw some image or gif somebody made, and any "moving pictures" (lol) and all that stuff that erupts on this screen every day. I tried to soak it all in.

II.

{...but i can't smoke after such a media "meal" anymore. i can't even smoke after literal meals anymore. and i see that very few people do that now; they don't smoke like they used to, like i used to. i liked everything about the habit: the inhale, the exhale, the stream of smoke spiraling up, the glowing tip, a clean-ish ashtray, the precious full pack...}

Media is not soaked in or overwhelming now. But I suspect that it washes through me, and that it has an accumulative result. I sometimes picture a gully or two in my head, little influences that remain in my mind. Perhaps a *news flash* or a meme or a paragraph or something similar are all flowing through my mind. Some of them aren't even identified. However, I must realize what comes next after a gully is made.

III.

{...and when i get nervous - and nervous i do get - a cigarette was one of my best friends. i could sit back, light one with a cool lighter and take a moment to myself. yes, smoking is a rather selfish thing - i mean, who likes second-hand smoke? and what happens to white paint on a wall if i smoke by it all the time? and a cough, i can't forget that. but the act of smoking - it seduces...}

Years ago, I spent a lot of time living in the country, rough living, so to speak, because it was identical to camping out, even with a generator or a more sophisticated shelter around me. I was still way back in the country, no electricity, no indoor plumbing worth writing about - you get it: rough living. I liked it very much and mostly stayed there for years.

But the results were two-fold. I rarely saw any TV or news or movies and all, so when I did, all of that got my full attention. I mean, full. It overwhelmed. It did that for years. And I also saw what happened to erosive land in real time. A thing that was once a gully was prone, downstream, to become an arroyo big enough to put a car in. What does this say about media and me now?

IV.

{...when i lived there i rolled my own cigarettes. i didn't much care; it was no bother. yet still, when i could buy a pack of rolled cigs, it made me happier. then i lived in cities and could smoke almost anywhere as long as there was a safe place for ashes and filters. i thought smoking not only made me look cool, it helped me be cool. i could write better and more often, because i had wonderful smoking breaks every little while. it seemed to give me more clarity of mind. but it got to where i coughed a terrible, racking cough because of that habit with those lovely cigarettes...}

When I think about it, I know I don't want any arroyos in my head. What protection should I have from media? Time, I think. Time to form strong opinions about many things, including what music I like, what book I really want to read next, which news teams to listen to most, what poems and stories I ought to let flow in and settle in my mind, gently, lightly.

I'm of an opposite opinion about news, it seems. I think it's all 'real' until comparisons and information say otherwise. There is no 'fake' news. There's real news and always a propaganda of sorts. Then there's entertainment. And mind-expanding creativity by others in mediums of all kinds, to whom I give thanks.

V.

{...and all i really want to know about smoking is: when the hell will an urge to light one go away, all the way away?...}

So, what I think about media is: Welcome in, you scamp you, and let me find what I like about you and send the rest out.