My life consists of phases. There are short, quick phases and there are long phases. They intertwine with time. During the last days, there was a focus phase. Focus phases are characterized by – how unexpected – focus. A very aimed and tensioned state of attention.
Focus expresses itself in many ways. Quick orgasms. A hunters’ mood. Everything needs to have a function. If I’m focussed, I judge people, because I pick out a single aspect of them and just watch that. I am very competitive, eager to play and win games like chess and poker. There should be reason, or I get annoyed.
If I’m focussed, I’m little playful, but instead I push. I push out all the life inside me, through my head and my eyes towards a point in space or thought. As if I scan the worlds. And myself. When I’m focussed I take little parts of myself and enlarge them. I do not look, I pierce. I don’t see, I project. I’m not truely in touch with my friends and loved ones. Focus is a narrow state of mind. Useful, but dangerous if it’s not mastered. Our society is full of it.
Long held focus is a flight from what’s the case. And what is the case? Eternal insecurity in the infinite darkness of the universe? I don’t think so. I think the case is love. But why do we run?