Burden of Nonsense

somewhere in the darkness between last night and tonight a vision came before me. it was about people and their work–the type of work that ends when the person doing it ends.

this work, i’ve decided, is the person’s burden of nonsense.

it’s work that wouldn’t be done for any other reason than the person is driven to do it because of love, compulsion, insanity, etc. but it’s also work that tears them away from the normal mode of living through escapism–watching endless hours of tv or social media or whatever.

this work, however, can be a form of escapism but is different in that it provides escape for only one person - the worker - whereas tv provides escape for the millions who are currently watching a program.

it’s also work because it compels the person to continue at it in spite of wanting to do something else. this text, for instance, because i’d much rather be watching mindless reruns of the x-files than write this but, because of the idea and because of my compulsion to push on through with this “project” of mine here i sit writing away.

the above is the burden.

the nonsense is the futility of the results. the fact that the work won’t be finished even after the death of the worker - it merely stops. a hard break that forces the conclusions that might never have existed had the worker lived another month or year to finish that one aspect.

the worker never sees the results of their work either. they get partial glimpses but never the full scope. van gogh never saw his fame and yet he worked and struggles with his nonsense out of passionate belief.