Writing distracts for a while. No phone. All day long I am reminded of my addiction to bite-sized visual snacks. Not only I suffer from this, of course.
News, chats, emails, and the occasional phone call, they follow each other in rapid succession. It is unclear at the moment who the actors are: of course it is my fingertips that, by pressing the screen, direct the electro-physical processes in such a way that a comment, or a thought, is sent into the virtual space and so somehow arrange the pixel coloring of my screen which my retina projects onto my visual cortex and is then interpreted through various neural channels…
The problem is that the actions of those fingertips are not isolated. It is precisely these that are controlled from a motor cortex that has been prompted by cranial gossip that most likely originated at least in part as a result of a stimulus coming from a digital communication line. It all looks like a tango between a chicken and an egg.
When I start to write, silence falls in. At least my phone, fingertips and neural connections are disconnected for a while.
Now, a voice appears in my head that, as it were, reads aloud what I write down. That voice actually sounds like my own voice, only softly, as if it (?) whispers. Strangely enough, it feels (or sounds?) as if hovers over my skull cap. Slightly on the right side, at the place where the lateral cortex originates, but then above it. But when I think about what I must should write (haha, “must” crossed out!), that voice is also gone for a while.
Quiet, finally.
Written on March 12, 2019