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September
12
Thursday
2024
2024 09 12

Demiurge ex machina page 3



Not so long ago, in a certain (fu)turistic city of K., lived a budding writer and philosophy student named Jan Markowicz... Or: In a certain segment of spacetime, there existed a philosophy student and debuting author by the name of Jan Markowicz... Or maybe: Character: Jan Markowicz (author and philosophy student); Time: Vaguely defined modernity (20th/21st century); Space: psychological, physical, metaphysical, etc.; Action: episodic, though still occasionally possessing some narrative features...

Or perhaps: Let me tell you an extraordinary story about how a certain novice writer, engaged in pondering the most superfluous questions you could imagine (in the style of Leibniz's "Why is there something rather than nothing"), ended up in a gloomy and ominous land called the Unconscious (where perhaps those wander like in a labyrinth, for whom their own identity, the order of the world, and a few other more or less important issues are not obvious matters), which, however, its inhabitants referred to as "Worldshade" (Long live neologisms!). If I were to describe in detail what this "terra incognita" (unknown land) looks like, my knowledge would have to far exceed everything that contemporary psychology, along with its prominent inspirations like Dementius, Sigfried Fjord, and a few others (any resemblance to the names of characters that once and somewhere authentically existed is highly (un)likely intentional; forgive me for that). At the outset, I must warn you that almost everything I write on this topic (and any other) is a product of imagination, which, although it draws to some extent from psychoanalytic theory (and other types of mental constructs commonly referred to as ideas), does not, however, constitute a lecture on its views (nor anyone else’s, except with some minor exceptions, when the author quotes philosophers, intellectuals, or writers), but rather, at best, a creative (over)interpretation, by no means based on scientific psychological research (unless reading psychological literature and self-reflection can be considered such), thereby making it, for the most part, a work of literary expression (thus arises authorocracy). However, before the protagonist finds himself in this "inner reality," I will briefly describe the events that led him there.
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