I have neglected this blog for far too long. How many times I’ve thought to write I cannot say, it’s always in the quiet before sleep that I get motivations. There’s so much writing that I have to share, but it’s all so unorganized. So chaotic, in its scattered phrases printed in various locations, I fear that for any value to be drawn from it, the pieces of the puzzle I’ve created would have to be look at as a whole, scattered and un-put-together (??). I wish it was as easy as writing all my words onto small bits of paper and just throwing them to the ground, and having you all pick out what you will, however I am too controlling of the interpretation and meaning within my art to give you that much freedom in viewing my creation. So instead I must carefully curate each piece as it is a work of art.

And yes, I sound quite prideful of my work, to ascribe it so much value purely off my own word, (which would require value to have any significant in the ascribing itself) but I believe I must be. That it is a requirement of the artist, to stake their lives on the value of their work. Because within the work is much more than their lives, but their existence as a whole, is purely built upon the witness of their creation. Such as the existence of god is based upon witness of His creation, and such is the reason for our existing. There are parallels between artists and God that would have any artist have an obnoxious ego. We are the gods of our artwork, as well as the artwork of God, and in our witness we solidify the existence of God, and in witness of our own artwork is the solidification of our existence.

So if I think so strongly of the value of sharing my artwork, why has it been nearly a year since I’ve posted?.. I don’t know, I’m sorry. To any reader who would perhaps gain value from my art. To the version of me that could be existing in my place if I gave more attention to my duty. To the art which has been left dormant and unseen. And to God who has communicated the words I wish to translate though my art and existence. It is truly a waste for me to have received such words.

Enough whining and exposition. I suppose I will write as I feel fit in this moment, and that is in a casual recount of recent events, as well as my current state and future endeavors. I’ll get on with the transcendental poetry and meaningful writing in short time. (though that may prove a lie)

I’m leaving my job and my home (as it has been for the last entirety of my life) and I’m moving into my own place. (something which is long overdue) I’m taking only myself, and myself as I have been for the last many years. For the last many years that has been grazed by many people, very few if any which still remain. Many if not all have moved on to become a different person. Changing their parts until they are unrecognizable, to the point you cannot claim to know them. People can be much like that Theseus ship or whatever. Everyone except for me, at least from my perspective. I am unchanging, though everyone else changes into what is unrecognizable. That is why for me, making a change is so significant, I am choosing to leave behind a life that the unchanged part of me doesn’t want to leave, but I have to leave it because I’m the only one left there, everyone else has changed and I’ve been too stubborn and complacent.

It’s not often in your life that you have an event you can point to and say “this is the start of a new chapter” at least not so precise as to be able to name the specific date. With that being said,

August 1st. I’ll be living alone, leaving the town I grew up in, leaving the only remaining chance of running into past relationships with people I still love, starting a new job, all very uncomfortable things, however, I don’t feel too bothered by it. I feel actually very indifferent. It’s a simple fact of the matter, an inevitability. What I want and how I feel with my current situations change so much and so drastically, that the value in how I feel about any given thing at any given moment has often fled completely.

I’ve learned in my short lived experience, that expectation of improved circumstances mostly lead to utter dread. Excitement over a change as if it will fix the root of the problem. As if moving to a new city or country would cure an existential crisis. FOOLS it was not your circumstance in the first place that was the reason from your dread, it was simply your sorry state of existence. The sorry state of existing at all for that matter. Who is to say that the state of dread is not the state in which we are meant to exist in. Perhaps it is existence and its conditions that birthed dread from the very start. The fall of man was our being born, or at least being able to concern ourselves with our existing.

In any case, hoping and exciting over the belief that changing your environment will fix your problems, is just going to lead to disappointment. Thinking that your rock bottom is actually the bottom and that at some point you were, or at some point in the future you are meant to be, in a better state than the one you are is very entitled. Perhaps you’re already at the high end of life’s misery, then you are truly in for a wake when your savior delivers you directly to hell, perhaps faster than if you had ignored his coming in the first place. Accept your misery and dread for what it is, because it very very well could be the most comfortable you will ever be again. Be scared, TERRIFIED, PETRIFIED, by the thought of disappointment, and have no expectation, it’s not in your power to say what results are not to your standard, who are you to decide what “should” have resulted from your attempted solutions to a law of nature. You are simply a splotch of paint, attempting to change the color of the canvas when all you can do is cover it up. Yes to an outside observer the canvas has changed color, at least for what it’s worth to them, but to you? That splotch of paint? All you see is the white of the canvas, your miserably colorful attempt, and a falsely impressed onlooker who thinks you actually succeeded in changing something you have no business touching at all.

AHH DAMNIT GUYS, I was supposed to save the transcendental speeches for future posts and fill you all in on my life as it has been in the time between my posting.

Not that there are any of you, to the me that’s sitting here writing this i am fully under the impression that I am speaking to no audience, and I may not be so far off in my prediction, aside from the few of you that stumble upon this for which I am very grateful. And none of the possible “yous” that could be reading this know anything about me, who I am, or what I’m talking about if I were to attempt to fill you in on a year of my life, and even if you did, I find it unlikely you would care.

With that said, I hope I can pick up the activity on the blog I pay yearly for, and also you, YOU, individual reading this, should like do some free advertising and mysteriously write “www.lastlight.blog” all over the place so more people come read this so I’m not sitting talking to myself and rambling nothings to no one.

That’s all, thank you.

In conclusion of excessive rambling and commitment to complacency,

-Taylor Wilson