Tag Archive | 2013

5 Years of Art under ConDem Rule

Am I currently working on a drawing called The long Night of a Needless Storm which I wanted to be ready to show now, but it isn’t and I don’t like showing incomplete works, so here is the rest of the psycho-bile-build-up from the past 5 years. I for one cannot endure another 5 years like this.

“…GIVE ME A BREAK!?!!..”

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A Privatised Implosion (2014, A4, Ink on paper)

A Privatised Implosion (2014)

The Index For Child Well-being (2011, mixed media on paper, 100X100cm)

John Ledger - The Index For Child Wellbeing

I Want None of This (2011, mixed media on paper, 180X105cm)

I Want None of This (2147x4000)

I Want None of This - Copy

A Psychic Timebomb (2013, mixed media on paper)

A Psychic Timebomb (2013)

Achieving and getting Things Done (Installation, Sheffield 2011)

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In The City… (2011, ballpoint pen on paper, 115X100cm)

Just The Noise… (2014 exhibition flyer)

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The Planet’s Mental Illness (2012, ballpoint pen on paper, 105X150cm)

The Planet's Mental Illness (for whitewall) (1512x2000)

…Coils Tightening (2014, mixed media on paper, 100X125cm)

...Coils Tightening (2014) (1280x1034)P1010009

A Cognitive Austerity (2015, ink on paper, A4)

A Cognitive Austerity

Untitled (2014, ink on paper, A4)

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Mind Camp (2013, mixed media on paper, 105x155cm)

Mind Camp for prints (2061x3000)

Mind Camp (3435x5000) (2)

Disintegration (2013, A4, mixed media on paper)

Disintegration

Feverish (2014, ballpoint pen on paper, 135x95cm)

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Untitled (2013, ink on paper, A4)

July 2013

Not Humanly Possible (2015, ink on paper, A4)

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The Place of Dead Ends (2013, mixed media on paper, 100x125cm)

The Place of Dead Ends (2013)the (3)

Hyper-Malaise (2014, ink on paper)

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Global Ghetto, 2045, Marks The Centenary of The Defeat of Fascism (2010/11, 105X140, ballpoint pen on paper)

Global Ghetto, 2045, Marks The Centenary of The Defeat of Fascism (2000x1403)

Whilst We Were in The Eternal Now... (2014, mixed media on paper, 95X125cm)

Whilst We Were In The Eternal Now...

The Mary Celeste Project [The Scene of The Crash] (2014, video)

The Mary Celeste Project (The Scene of The Crash) from john Ledger on Vimeo.

The blanket of malaise hanging over 2013. Can it be torn down in 2014?

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It’s been an hard truth to come to terms with, but refusing to discuss it for any longer will delay the thoughts of how it can be torn down. A blanket of malaise has swept over society during the past year and half, and I’m watching people get sicker and sicker. As well as the ‘cutification’ and ‘retrophilia’ becoming more deeply embedded in society, as the world picture becomes more ghastly, so many people seem far more fed up, and exhausted than I have ever known.

For most of the past year I had lost faith in writing things down; a sense that there was no longer anything I could say, or, at least, that I had found face to face dialogue far more feasible in an age where time has collapsed onto us, and there is an overarching compulsion for immediacy (“if it can’t be said in 150 characters via Twitter, then what’s the point?). But this too is a symptom of a wider malaise, of walking a road which has suddenly become steeper and steeper and even steeper on the horizon. ‘Keep calm and carry on’ folks!

There is so much evidence strewn all over, like a ripped up and shredded contract, to show that increased economic hardship is giving many a massive helping push towards their coping limits, with stories of increases in suicides, and suicidal thoughts rife amongst young adults, and rising cases of general psychological distress. Many of us have seen from day to day observations that this was already happening before the statistics at least gave the evidence to back it up. Only an artful dodger of the evidential, would try to argue that a ruthless economic agenda, fortified by a jingoist national agenda nudging towards outright authoritarianism, isn’t shooting many from both sides, with pessimism from one barrel and endemic fear from the other, right now. Yet, the artful dodgers often have the last word, as the majority who do have a sense that somethings gone wrong across the board can rarely articulate this feeling; they are too fractured by the sheer volume of seemingly unrelated shards of information, that rip holes in the mind, to see so clearly; and amnesia creeps into the scars left by this bombardment.

Many thus resort to the blame game, blaming migrants, benefit claimants, unable to focus for long enough on what should be unavoidably obvious: that it’s the monstrously unequal concentration of power in our world that is the cause of this seemingly unstoppable downward spiral we feel trapped within. (Social Geographer Doreen Massey often brings up the important of power; that it is the ability to get things done, and to choose what is to be done in any human collective, big or small. During the past 30 years power has been increasingly concentrated in such a small amount of hands, globally, that it’s created a dystopian situation for the rest of us. Migrants and benefit claimants have no power, so why do we blame them?).

But without focusing in on the current outcome from a specifically economic perspective, I wish to look at our entire cultural edifice/value system, as to why in 2013, at least in the UK, morale has been so low across the board, and already-existing psychological distress, and disorders, have moved many from having lives made problematic by them to having lives pushed to a crisis point by them.

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The cultural values ingrained into us from an day 1 of our lives are now seemingly pushing many of us to the point of nervous breakdown. Those of us in the UK under the age of 35 have been born into a culture bloated to sickness point with aspirationalism. And with this comes an even greater emphasis on social status. Social status has always been woefully present in British culture, but never before has status anxiety, and fear of failure been so present within it.  A politically-engineered violent individualism has attacked every one of us, isolating us from others, whilst making us more fearful of being socially invisible/a non-person to others due to our (lack of) achievements.

If Thatcherism planted the seeds of enforced aspiration (“self-entrepreneurship … a minimum requirement for mere survival [today]” – Steve Shaviro), Blairism, by denying the remaining existence of social classes in society, forced people to choose between enforced aspirationalism (a dictatorship of individualism) and being demoted to social ‘scum’; lazy, no good layabouts. Anyone who didn’t aspire ‘to better themselves’/to forge a career for themselves was an ‘undeserving “chav”‘,  seen as a scourge on society; the poor, the obese, the drug addicts were the people who should be excluded from the newly ‘regenerated’ city centres; new urban living, but only for the desirables, those who looked like what the computer-generated impressions of the ‘regenerated’ areas intended them to look like. All this at a time when opportunity for bettering yourself was becoming increasingly harder for anyone not already born into the right social class.

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Denying the existence of class, the differences in life chances between the classes, all the feelings of inferiority and anxieties that proliferate the further down the economic ladder you go, ingrains into an entire generation the belief that they can succeed just as much as their far more financially and hierarchically-privileged contemporaries. In the meantime whilst incubating a time-bomb growing off feelings of failure, inadequacy, unfulfilled aspirations -a feeling intensified more and more into the 2000’s, mushrooming due to the social networking phenomena – landing an entire generation (and large chunks off other generations) in a dangerously discontent place now these ingrained beliefs are being “crushed like bugs in the ground”.

So, in 2013, five years after the financial crash, and 3 years deep into these war-on-the-poor economic measures, taken with disgustingly sadistic pride (no doubt learned from Public school bullying sessions) by a Tory government in coalition-sheep’s clothing, all factors complicit in this generation-long social-status assault on people has reached a very grim and ugly point. During this year I have witnessed so many people become almost shells of themselves, wondering, as much as I wonder the very same about myself, how they can proceed: how can they move beyond this low point, when everything they have either been told they should be, or encouraged to be by omnipresent persuasions, is close to disintegrating? I suppose I am talking here of a section of this generation who have the safety net of their parents to rely on, and who, humiliatingly enough, increasingly have to rely on it.  Those below, whose lives are beaten and withered by threats of evictions, and reliance on food banks, have been having their aspirations smashed into the day in hand for years. But despite the differences in the immediacy and intensity of the suffering, the emphasis is here on loss of hope I see in peoples’ faces, their postures and their actions, whether they be zero-hour contract service industry workers being propped up by their parents, or those who really are on the breadline.

People’s Smiles are noticeably harder to hold. Many people are also noticeably upset whenever they see a photo of their past selves, or when they are reminded of past endeavours, because they feel something had been drained of life in them since then. It often feels like I’m living in a massive house of ghosts who are painfully daily reminded of the life they once lived. Despite the annoying focus on the completely irrelevant Mayan Domesday prediction for 2012, it did feel like something did end during this year. But if something died it was maybe the cultural belief system; that all remaining faith in it vanished. Yet the beliefs linger on in undead form, because our society remains ‘capitalist realist‘, where no alternative to the capitalist world seems imaginable to us. Neoliberalism, the dominant economic system that has dragged so much of the world into poverty to the benefit of an emergent plutocracy, was allowed to carry on unchallenged, even though it was a dead idea, precisely because of ‘capitalism realism’. But if cultural values are dead, yet we cling to them because we can’t imagine any other, then we are left trying to keep life going in a graveyard. 2013 was an undead year, we were like ghosts going through the motions.

It’s like the conceptual force field ‘capitalist realism’ has around us has fallen in on us, like a net falling around prey, making the endeavours we undertake increasingly more strenuous and less worthwhile, yet endeavours we still must undertake anyway. But it’s not just the death of such values, it is compounded by an inescapable awareness that the world seems to be looking a more frightening place by the day; that what we thought all too dystopian only a decade ago now seems to way of the world in 2013, from severe weather extremes every year, to fascist-like comments from mainstream politicians. “People are just fed up; they’ve had enough”, and amidst the bombardment of bake-off-based, feline-caption-picture-based, vintage-fashion-based, and crumbling-civilisation-based-Miley-Cyrus soundbites, these were words that often surfaced. The collection of examples used there are via Charlie Brooker’s 2013 round-up in the Guardian, but only because his round-up reflected my own experience.

The morale of the art world just below the relatively safe established art circles seems to have become very disheartened especially. Only 4/5 years back, before the coalition came to power, art was springing up in empty shop spaces and was, at least a large part of it, art that questioned/challenged. Fast forward to 2013, and you keep on hearing that everyone making art in the area feels a bit “meh” at the moment, that something has sapped the drive. The ‘keep Calm and Carry on’ Arts and Crafts brigade (who’s main motivation is an financially-anxious – but passed off as a relaxed, Alex James-style country-bumpkin – drive to make a business out their work) has emerged triumphant in the place of more challenging art.

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With total loss of hope surely comes two outcomes: total self-destruction, or destruction of the belief system and all that it privileges. Whilst ever the value system of a capitalist realist culture still holds on in its undead form, the former is the likely outcome. Returning to Charlie Brooker, in the Black Mirror episode he wrote called ’15 Million Credits’, it is clear that the episode’s protagonist is a cipher for Charlie Brooker himself. In ’15 Million Credits’ After the girl of his dreams has her soul destroyed in front of an X-factor-like-show panel (the crucible of the entire society – where the panelists begin to represent the judges in Stalinist-like showtrials) when they crush her hopes of being a singing and more or less force her into a choice between being a hardcore pornstar or having a miserable end to her days, the protagonist gets himself up in front of an entire population of a eerily-familiar dystopian society,  to tell the X-Fact0r-like judges, and the rest of society, that it is all fucked up, and they are all fucked up, and fuck you all, whilst holding a shard of glass to the main vein in his neck. The judges outcome being: “this is surely the most heartfelt performance I’ve seen on here since Hotshot began! [to which to crowd goes wild]” and the protagonist ends up having a weekly televised slot shouting about how everything is fucked up, whilst living quite comfortably. This is obviously how Charlie Brooker sees himself; that his despair, and abjection, tinted with great wit, over the state of society, is destined to be merely another form of entertainment. Black Mirror shows just how intelligent Brooker is.

The thing is, as much as I enjoy and value Charlie Brooker’s contribution to popular culture, there are a hell of a lot of people who feel exactly the same way about society (hence his popularity), who aren’t sitting as comfortably as him; I.e. he’s one of the few of us fortunate enough to make a decent living for himself out his feelings of hopelessness and despair. This isn’t a criticism of him, by any means, it’s just observing that this escape route isn’t an option for the rest of us, and in 2013 it’s increasingly evident on peoples’ faces that their options are running out full stop. As I said at the top, it’s a time-bomb. I can’t see how it can go on for much longer in the way it did in 2013, something surely has to tear through this decaying edifice. Most culture at the moment is playing into the hands of right wing conservative answers; be it the baking, cupcake, domesticity obsession that harks back to a pastiche of the 1940’s, or the obsession with everything British, where nearly every documentary seems to include the words ‘Great British’ in the title. But if this was 2013 culture, it was so far removed from daily experience that there’s no way that it can even slightly appease and satisfy for much longer. As I said above, we are at a crossroads now, where one way promises self-destruction, be it through drug intoxication, psychological surrender to bodies of authority/superstition, or self harm/suicide; the other way will be mean tearing away this dead culture, saying “fuck you, I won’t take this anymore”.

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The Place of Dead Ends (2013, 100X120cm)

End of Year Haunting

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Accompanying sound….
Stolen Dog – Burial
Steel Your Girl – Neon Neon

Street Halo – Burial
Ruby Tuesday – Franco Battiatio
With Every Heartbeat (at Ghosts of My Life tempo) –  Robyn with Kleerup

Nae Hair On’t – The Bluetones

Seconds – The Human League

Shadowplay (live in Manchester) – Joy Division

C.R.E.A.M – The Wu-Tang Clan

Dislocation – John Foxx

Mind Camp

Mind Camp (2013, biro and collage on paper)

Mind Camp (3435x5000)

The title of Mind Camp is taken from a very ignorant error I made when I was somewhat younger; believing it to be the English translation of Mein Kampf, Adolf Hitler’s notorious book. Of course, Hitler’s book is actually translated as ‘My Struggle’, and the remaining connection here is that which I always thought my interpretation of the title referred to: the occupation of the human mind by ideas, doctrines, logic, as a means of making them socially compatible with a system of power; that is, power that doesn’t only (or doesn’t even need to) insert its influence externally, to make sure we are compatible entities within a system, but internally (what I would later understand as what philosopher Michel Foucault termed Biopower).

The theorist Franco ‘bifo’ Berardi refers to the current stage of capitalism as ‘semiocapitalism’: a system no longer driven by mass industrial production, but by signs/communication, which is all the more evident now human life is almost completely orientated around digital communications. Berardi writes that “semiocapitalism puts [our] neurophysical energies to work, and submits them to the speed of electronic machinery. It compels our cognition, our emotional hardware to follow the rhythm of net-productivity” Capital has synchronised itself with our conscious and subconscious. It is proliferated by the “digital web…” which “…spreads and expands by progressively reducing more and more elements to a format, a standard and code that makes different segments compatible”. In such a world, brands/logos have a seemingly unlimited reach over the imagination – as we can now see all too well. , Precisely because it is internalised, Capitalism is so culturally extensive and intensive that it is hard to consider that anything may be outside of it, so that “when we sleep, we even dream of capital” (Mark Fisher, Capitalist Realism).

Mind Camp (3435x5000) (2)

But this means new styles of exploitation for a new organisation of power.  Franco Berardi believes it is important to see the global worker no longer a proletariat but a cognitariat, as capital  puts more and more of our neurophysical energies to work. Michel Foucault’s reference to the Panopticon (an architectural structure built to allow total surveillance over the ‘inmate’s  to maintain order and control) as a analogy for a whole form of maintaining obedience to a power structure, is still alive and well, but perhaps need only now be used in certain circumstances, when the internalisation of power fails to work. Most of us are now governed internally, a biolpolitical intrusion of all the flows and anxieties of the political economy, depolitising us in the process, as we become the guard in the watchtower of our own lives.

Franco Berardi describes the Life of the cognitariat: “labor has become fractalised. With the end of large industrial monopolies, new workers, now delocalized in the global peripheries, start resembling computer terminals, cells in the circulation of the commodity-sign”. The worker is condemned to be a component in the constant production and consumption of signs/information.”Each individual is a cell put in constant productive connection with others by the web, which ensures a deterritorialized fractal, and fluid sociality. The cellular is the new assembly line, deprived of any carnal sociality”.

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Precisely because total competition is the name of the game, social mobility has actually become harder in societies more saturated by neoliberalism, and the more we partake in our ‘daily races’ against one another, the more we exacerbate the dynamics of an every-man-for-himself system where the winners have already taken all. Yet, because of the “non-stop inertia” caused as the cognitariat’s libidinal energies are constantly wired/re-wired into the digital matrix, the anxiety of this enforced competitive state of being makes it sometimes feel impossible for us to withdaw from these dynamics; indeed Berardi speculates that only when we crash (depression/mental exhaustion) do we withdraw our libidinal energies from the reproduction of semiocapitalism. Alone together, protesting through inactivity.

Within the drawing I wanted to try to visualise mechanisms that function by appropriating these ‘neurophysical’ energies from the cognitariat, but then merely dumps them once the required labour process is over, as the wealth accumulated by semiocapital becomes the preserve of a small section within the social system, who own the rights to the sign language as “intellectual property”. The ‘cognitariat’ is in a state of constant becoming; once their mental energies have been used, they drop (perhaps mentally exhausted, in what Berardi describes as a state of depressive withdrawal), only to find themselves reattached to the constant and futile ‘career-climb’ (the prospect of falling out of reach is often unthinkable as the welfare systems there to protect the financially vulnerable becomes less and less existent).

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It often seems the case that the more one sends cell phone texts, posts images/links on their Facebook/Tumblr/Twitter wall, in the aid of becoming more (more financially, socially, and identity secure), the more one actually dissapears/becomes less, as they invest mental energies in an infinitely expanding information web, whose increase in size means increasing fragmentation of identity and of communitiy, as media wedges itself between more pockets of time/space; also this expansion not only engenders further exploitation of our psychic resources, but of our material conditions, as an increase in connectivity for the financial plutocracy means a greater reduction in labour costs for profit maximisation.

As the system refines its mechanisms in this so-called recession (the global 1% highest earners have seen their profits surge during this ‘recession’ period), jobs become so scarce to the extent that more mandatory, low paid jobs are absorbed more and more into the competitive, ‘careerist’, ‘life-as-a-CV’ job market, which was initially only the reality of those who were willing the work the career treadmill in the hope of a top salary. You stand still in a world of unrestrained ruthless capitalism and the fear is that one will be wiped from the game. It is evidential that we are witnessing a race to the bottom for (to use the now-common terminology) the 99% of us, as the concentration of wealth/power becomes more refined, with a logical conclusion that renders the fiction of films such as the recent Hunger Games imaginable.

The bulwark of information that is disseminated from the concentrated power is structurally designed to divide and confuse the population it relies on to utilise mental and physical energy from. This is the the only source that passes from the top to the bottom within this piece of work. The mechanism appear almost like pinball games levers, knocking all that is below back down, whilst only allowing these ‘media bombs’ to drop downwards. Sometimes I find the mechanisms visualised in games, especially early computer games, useful metaphors for the procession of power relations in the world, especially in the digital age.

Within the brain-like part of the work (which also attempts to refer to something inflated, and still inflating; a bubble of the logos of semiocapital) all signs, all logos, all companies, all sections of capitalist reproduction are shown to be connected/dependent on each others’ existence. Just as no individual is exempt, no sign/no commonly-seen logo is exempt from a network of images that descends into the darkest networks of reproduction; some brands seem to float like little fluffy clouds in a guilt-free cyberspace, but they are just as much as part of the system as the most destructive corporations wreaking havoc to the social/environmental, and also the darkests forms of image production from violent pornography to the filming of murder.

It’s an uncomfortable truth that the language of our times that often seems innocent on face-value is part of the same logic that allows the most brutal forms of exploitation in the world. Within this drawing there is no solution, I admit this (although there is cracks appearing in the super structure). But, to quote Franco Berardi again, because I largely agree with his opinion here, “The task of the thinker [to which, in my understanding of art, would include the artist] – if thinking has a task – is not to breathe hope into hearts, but to help in understanding  reality, because only understanding can bring forth new possibilities”.

Mind Camp (3435x5000) (2)

The strangeness of normality (the uncanniness of 2013)

This year was always going to be one of re-building/coming to terms with falling back into a place that I felt I had to escape (believing it to be now or never) and realising it wasn’t the end of the world after all. This requires one to put things into perspective, not by comparing oneself to those less fortunate (not that they should be ignored) but in realising that nothing matters more and than obtaining that next inhalation of oxygen.

This has been a strange time, where initially the outside world fell away, to the extent that my life felt like it was in a momentary suspension from them, haunted by the (friendly-than-usual) ghosts of my past, and future. Almost felt like I was a actually a ghost hearing the sound of my life passing through the house where I have spent most of it. (The most appropriate musical soundtrack being Kate Bush, who’s music is quintessentially dream-like; but a certain type of dream, a dream where you wake up feeling you have left something behind in it; an haunting from the past, future and an unreachable present. The most apt song being Watching You Without Me (Hounds of Love): “there’s a ghost in our hall just watching you”. Her music may be so powerful to this situation because her earlier music is certainly one of my earliest memories of music, and it was also the music I was listening to in a rather similar situation 10 years ago when I tried and failed to do a course in Manchester. It’s phenomenologically important here.).

To cut all this short, it was a perspective that gave me reason to see the falling apart of the plans engraved into 2012 as anything but a mistake made; that now I could resume my creation of art, without feeling the pressure than I somehow ought to be more. But the rebuilding needs to be slow, like a physical healing process – just because you think you are fully healed it doesn’t mean you are. To go back out into the world too soon, well, this results in stumbling over obstacles that you’d have been floating safely over if you’d left it long enough.

I tried to understand what made me make think I was ready prematurely.

Social media has encroached so far into our lives that its omnipresence has made us blind to our total loss of privacy. The philosopher Martin Heidegger wrote of ‘falling into the world’, losing our ability to be philosophical, being unable to listen to our Being through the din made by society’s asks of us. Heidegger never lived to see the coming on the information-technology age. In this age (the ‘Facebook-age’- such naming of an era may yet prove to be not satirical and ironic at all) it is now almost impossible to refrain from ‘falling into the world’ in our very spaces of privacy.

Marc Augé wrote about this inversion in his book Non-Places, mapping the cultural logic that has landed us in the Facebook age, Augé Writes that the “[t]he individual, finally, is decentred in a sense from himself. He has instruments that place him in constant contact with the remotest parts of the outside world. Portable telephones are also cameras, able to capture still or moving images; they are also televisions and computers. The individual can thus live rather oddly in an intellectual, musical, or visual environment that is wholly independent of his immediate physical surroundings” One is surrounded by communication in the places they retreat to, and I now find myself going outside into the street to be alone with my thoughts. Finding it hard to tune out of the social media world, within a couple of weeks I have found my mind running on overtime. I didn’t have time to ground myself in a philosophically stable place, and my mind was ‘falling into the world’ with tonnes of stored-up energy that should have released at a much slower rate.

The past, present, and future that were previously in an harmless form, began to do immense damage to my well-being again. I don’t think anybody who finds themselves analysing 2013 can feel in a good mental state afterwards, it’s like the fruits of madness, all aging at different rates, all seem to have come to ripen in this year; there’s something uncanny about 2013. Almost as if we have hit a certain gage in our civilisation: now it isn’t a case of having to be unwell to function in an unwell society, you have to be utterly mad to function in society. Nothing looks different at first, but then walking the streets something hits you, the look on faces of utter confusion. Streets filling with the homeless, whilst others look at each other on phone screens. Pastiche and retro to such a saturation-extent that it’s like the entire history of man has been thrown into the same arena. More scandal in the political/media/corporate establishment that we can cope with; we’ve lost all faith in everything but still go through the motions not knowing what else do to. What’s the difference between a dystopia and an insane society? Or is the insanity the infliction that stops us realising it’s a dystopia? Utter confusion; necessary blindness. Just count your blessings that nobody really has the time to notice the moments when you yourself crack.

So I wait and expect social breakdown, but it’s likely that it won’t happen, and the breakdown is merely that my past seems to have collapsed in on my present, and I can’t figure out where next. Perhaps I am the one dummy at the end of history whilst everyone else just potters around until the transition occurs? I’m 29 now, and it feels like my 20’s were just a single year, but yet not for everyone around, who appears to have somehow merged into a walk of life. I’m still locked in these years not knowing where to go next. After the calm start to the last year of my 20’s I’ve suddenly found myself locked into a lifestyle which feels like I’m trying to finish the business of the entirety of my 20’s – not really knowing what that business is, just that some conclusion needs to arrived at. The conclusion was probably being arrived at until I fell into the omnipresent world, unable to escape social media. It certainy feels that some grasp on normality (a relationship with someone for example) would serve as an immense anesthetising tool, stop me staring too much into the uncanny, frightening 2013, but would it?

Looking at the world teaches you to be cold, emotionless, when you can’t help feeling that the future will be dark, you shut down your senses to prepare for it. It surprises people how honest I can be about my life, whilst also being so unemotional about it, as if I’m not speaking of my past but a record collection. It really doesn’t bother me at all, but I often fear I scare friends with what I say, but I can’t see it, because my emotions are now merely references for conversation to prove my points. I can speak of emotion but I can’t act on it; I could easily inform you if I was having a massive breakdown whilst calmly asking you to pass me the salt. Of course I don’t want to be like this, but like with everything else, re-learning takes time – I struggle to find this time, when the superhighways are flying past my eyes and ears.