Blog (2023)

The Secret Life of Inanimate Objects.

This is a writing pen, if you were wondering, and my mind has the hankering to contemplate something. In fact, that's the kind of behavior you should expect it to show in that situation, so it shouldn't come as a surprise when it does.

It raises the question of who exactly is responsible for the writing. I have a pen in my hand; is it the pen itself or is it my brain that is causing my hand to communicate with the pen? Even though I haven't been actively writing for quite some time now, whenever I pick up a pen and start to write, I find that the words just keep coming, like a broken pipe spilling out water. Because I don't really need to give a damn about what I'm meant to write and because my pen prefers it that way, I won't worry about it. If my pen were alive, I don't think it would want to be kept in its case, but if it were, I think it would be satisfied with its situation.

Free in the sense that it is expressed in these words right now. Whoever doesn't value personal autonomy is someone I just don't understand. That is an incredibly foolish thing to do.

The elderly woman admired the leader who had provided her with the inexpensive meal as she sat there. During those troubling and uncertain times, she regarded him as a kind of savior. How in the world could she be so oblivious if she wants freedom for everyone? He, as her leader, was the one who caused her suffering, and he was also the one who ultimately ended up being her savior. She would have been independent and free from the influence of a cultist environment. Their cult leader has herded them like a bunch of lost sheep. She could have had a richer life for herself if she had been free.

I did, ever since I was young.