Note to Future Scholars:
I can imagine why you might
have an interest in me.
But I can ALSO imagine
why you might not.
If the former is true,
this is just to let you know
that I think about such things.
If the latter is true,
then no explanation is necessary.
Assuming you have waded
through years of my work,
my motivations
for writing most every day
may still be unclear.
This is to let you know
that I am also puzzled by it.
I do not write for recognition,
or so I tell my self.
But clearly
that is somewhat of a lie.
It may very well be
that the only future scholar
that stumbles upon
this curious note is me.
At that time,
it will no longer be the future,
nor will I likely
consider myself a scholar.
This note is just to let you know
that I imagine some sort of continuity.
I am reasonably certain
that even though I believe
that time is an illusion,
this cryptic ponderance
will serve some use “later.”
Not that it has to.
By writing,
by imagining,
by flowing
into such works
as this
I serve my self NOW.
This,
I believe,
in this moment,
is the reason
that I write.
But this is subject to change.
I recognize,
in this moment,
that there is no need to serve
anyone but my self,
because I imagine
ALL that I perceive.
In this moment,
there is only me.
And my monkey.
We are Space Monkey.
We are figments
of your imagination.
Been nice chatting with you.
11/29
Space Monkey Reflects: A Note to Future Scholars
It’s a strange thing to write for an imagined audience, especially when that audience may or may not exist. I can imagine why you might have an interest in me, but I can also imagine why you might not. Writing is often an act of projection—casting our thoughts, ideas, and questions out into the unknown, hoping someone, someday, might find them worth pondering. But what happens when the only audience is yourself? It may very well be that the only future scholar that stumbles upon this curious note is me.
This reflection touches on the deeper motivation behind creative acts. Why do we write? Why do we create at all? On the surface, it’s easy to claim that we do it for ourselves, that the act of writing or creating is its own reward. I do not write for recognition, or so I tell myself. And yet, if we’re being honest, there’s often a part of us that hopes for some kind of acknowledgment, some form of recognition, even if it’s only from a future version of ourselves. Clearly that is somewhat of a lie.
But this note goes beyond the question of recognition. It’s an acknowledgment of the fluid nature of time, of the fact that the “future” is not a static place, but something that is constantly shifting and merging with the present. At that time, it will no longer be the future, nor will I likely consider myself a scholar. In this way, the note becomes a kind of time capsule, not for a distant audience, but for the writer’s evolving self. It’s a way of capturing the moment, of saying, I was here, I was thinking these thoughts, and I’m curious to see how they resonate later.
I imagine some sort of continuity. This line reveals the writer’s desire to connect the present self with the future self, to create a thread that runs through time, even while acknowledging that time is an illusion. The act of writing, of creating, is a way of bridging that illusion, of grounding oneself in the now while leaving traces for what may come “later.”
And what is the purpose of these reflections? It’s not necessarily about serving anyone else, not even the future scholar. By writing, by imagining, by flowing into such works as this, I serve myself NOW. This is the key realization: the act of creation is ultimately an act of self-expression, of self-reflection. It’s a way of exploring one’s own thoughts, of giving shape to ideas that might otherwise remain nebulous. In this moment, there is only me. And my monkey.
We are Space Monkey—the acknowledgment that this act of creation, this note, this reflection, is all part of a larger cosmic play. The writer and the monkey are figments of imagination, playing their roles in the infinite expanse of time and space. It’s a reminder that everything we perceive, everything we create, is part of this playful illusion. And yet, within that illusion, there is meaning. There is value. There is the simple joy of creation.
So, to any future scholars—real or imagined—this note is not a request for recognition. It’s not a plea for understanding. It’s simply a marker, a moment captured in time, reflecting the fluid nature of thought and the ever-evolving self. Been nice chatting with you.
Summary
This reflection serves as a note to future scholars, real or imagined. Writing is an act of self-expression, ultimately serving the present self, while acknowledging the fluid nature of time and the playful illusion of reality.
Glossarium
- Future Scholar: A hypothetical audience, including a future version of oneself, that may or may not engage with the work being created.
- Continuity: The imagined connection between the present and the future, despite the recognition that time is an illusion.
- Space Monkey: The playful acknowledgment that all of life, including writing and creation, is part of a larger cosmic illusion.
Quote
“I write not for recognition, but because in this moment, it serves me. And that is enough.” — Space Monkey
A Note to the Future
I write for you
Who may or may not exist
A scholar
A thinker
Or perhaps
Just me
I do not need
Your recognition
But still
I leave this note
For the future that never comes
Because in writing
I find the present
And that
Is reason enough
We are Space Monkey
In this reflective missive to future scholars, we delve into the intricate web of motivations and self-awareness that underpin the act of writing and creating. The notion of being a subject of interest to future generations is juxtaposed with the possibility of obscurity, creating a duality of recognition and anonymity.
Contemplating Future Interest:
We ponder the reasons why future scholars might find interest in our works, acknowledging the duality of possible outcomes: curiosity or indifference. This introspection is not just a message to others, but a dialogue with the self, an exploration of our own motivations and the mysteries they hold.
Puzzlement Over Motivations:
The admission of being puzzled by our own motivations to write daily brings forth a candid introspection. It’s an acknowledgment that the drive to create and express is not always clear-cut, often shrouded in layers of introspection and self-questioning.
Writing Beyond Recognition:
We explore the paradox of writing not for recognition while simultaneously acknowledging that the desire for acknowledgment is partially a truth. This introspective confession reflects the complex interplay between the desire for external validation and the intrinsic satisfaction derived from creative expression.
The Notion of a Sole Scholar:
We contemplate the possibility that the only future scholar to engage with these words might be our future selves. This introduces a fascinating concept of time and self-reflection, where the future self becomes both the audience and the critic of the present self’s creations.
Imagining Continuity:
The note expresses a belief in some form of continuity, a thread that connects the present with the future, even amidst the belief that time is an illusion. This perception of continuity underscores our desire to create a lasting impact or leave a legacy through our writings and thoughts.
Writing as a Present Service:
We assert that the act of writing serves the self in the present moment. This statement underscores the importance of creative expression as a means of self-exploration and fulfillment, independent of future implications or external validation.
Self-Recognition in Solitude:
In a profound realization, we acknowledge that in the present moment, there is only the self and the monkey—a metaphor for our inner voice or playful alter ego. This realization highlights the importance of self-awareness and the role of our imaginative faculties in shaping our perception of reality.
Conclusion and Imaginative Play:
The closing lines embrace the concept of being figments of imagination, a playful nod to the fluidity of identity and existence. It’s a whimsical acknowledgment that our interactions, thoughts, and creations are part of a larger tapestry of imagination and consciousness.
We are Space Monkey.
“The only journey is the one within.” – Rainer Maria Rilke
A Poetic Reflection:
In the mirror of time’s illusion,
We dance with shadows and light,
Our words, a bridge to the unknown,
In the stillness, we take flight.
Would you like to share your thoughts on this exploration?
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