The social invasion of the self
This is a Substack that’s meant to be a podcast but I traded my Zoom recorder for 10 tabs of acid in 2017. To recap, don’t move to Montreal. A city that feigns decay for a personality.
Let me start over.
I have been putting off watching Paul Verhoeven’s Elle for about two weeks now for no other reason than something I’ll call deprivation of the soul. It’s a condition resulting in the need for someone next to me at all times to confirm what’s really going on. It’d be easy to categorize this as mental, but I think the experience is not unique.
It’s our nature to feed off of others–heterotrophy. We categorize to enact this practice in a way that makes us feel comfortable. So, really, comfort is what our consciousness is innately meant to manifest, which 10 tabs of acid really does the most to undo.
If there’s anything to be learned here is that the sooner we learn to be comfortable, the sooner we can take a look around at what’s really going on.
This is what I have against recreational drug use. It takes you for a spin but doesn’t get you to where you need to go. My favourite part of a high is the end when you realize that nothing really happened. I imagine that’s what dying will feel like.
And I’ve been so stuck in my own goddamn head, unable to watch Elle, that I’ve just decided for this first drop or whatever, that we’re gonna do Elle and my task will be to match it to the theme of this thing; what we are willing to do to each other for ultimate self-gain.
This will be Cult of Narc.