Help! I need an adult! I think Charlie Kaufman touched my brain inappropriately. If I had to show you on a doll I think it would be somewhere in the right hemisphere. It was a prolonged touch and the damage hasn't abated even though I've been in a perpetual cold shower since his last movie. Am I even writing this now? Maybe my mind is jumping to the future and Kaufman is still violating my neural linings in this very moment!
WHAT DO I EVEN KNOW?
Am I the same person who started this post? If not, can I meet that Robin Layter in a dream somewhere and have him explain his motives? How would I know if my dreamspace was collapsing at my feet? Charlie Kaufman why do you love circles so much? Or are they spirals? Or they something else? Am I writing this or are you? Am I my own God, what is time, what are words, where is the beginning, is there an end? Don't pose so many questions Charlie, I'm looking for the answers. Adapt what to what?
You love tears, you love borders, you love transposition and transference, but who are you? Who am I? Is life a giant work of art at the hands of a Da Vinci? Are we all merely players like a DiCaprio? Where do I end and you begin?
Is meta out of the picture yet people? Can we concede that it is cool and not very practical? Abstract anything far enough and all you'll see is whiteness which might very well be blackness, but that still doesn't change the fact that you are sitting at a stop light and it's red. Sure everything is about itself, I understand, but I want to get from point A to point B.
Of all artistic tracks Meta is the most egotistical. It's always drawing attention to itself. So stop it. Think about something else, you're going to hurt your brain and mine is already dead you've violated it one too many times.
