Ship full of ghosts

“It is long since I first trod the deck of this terrible ship, and the rays of my destiny are, I think gathering to a focus. Incomprehensible men! Wrapped up in meditations of a kind which I cannot divine, they pass me by unnoticed. Concealment is utter folly on my part, for the people will not see. It was but just now that I passed directly before the eyes of the mate; it was no long while ago that I ventured into the captain’s own private cabin, and took thence the materials with which I write, and have written. I shall from time to time continue this journal. It is true that I may not find an opportunity of transmitting it to the world, but I will not fail to make the endeavour. At the last moment I will enclose the MS. in a bottle, and cast it within the sea.”

Edgar Allan Poe MS. found in a Bottle

Note: I wrote the following 6 years ago, when I first got the idea of starting a blog. Since then I kept postponing because I didn’t seem to be able to sit down and write; in the meantime I realised I belong to the peripatetic (from Greek peripatetikos “given to walking about” (especially while teaching) from peri-patein “walk up and down, walk about”) school, so I started recording my thoughts – hence the peculiar format of this blog.

The ghost ship

For a long time I thought that writing a blog is a pretty narcissistic enterprise; now it turns out that I’m not that different after all.

Hey, look, look, I am this kind of person!

30 years ago people would write about themselves on a piece of paper, with the same motivation, but in that case it was for the purpose of leaving a record for those who come later, to say

”I was this kind of person.” Not “I am”.

For us moderns, whose sense of time is completely warped, topsy-turvy, we want to be read instantly. For the smartphone generation, there are many opportunities to feel that our existence is paper-thin superficial.

Have you noticed that whenever our eyes  meet, we both seem to feel embarrassed. It’s not like we did something wrong, but for some reason we felt guilty.

Perhaps both of us felt that our True-Sounds have disappeared and we only have Masks remaining.










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