Personal reflections on solitude and creative space
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"all of humanity's problems stem from man's inability to sit quietly in a room alone."
― Blaise Pascal, Pensées
I open the door exasperated. My face is long. I have lost all my color. My paint matches the walls. My soul is contorted to the shape of a room. No, perhaps the room is contorted to the shape of my soul.
I've discussed at length various times my disdain for mass media. How could anyone love a tool that imposes on their own agency? Infringes upon their very rights with no licence? Steals your most valuable resource, and pays for it in the instilling of hatred, futility, and self-loathing. A machine that feeds the dereliction of duty, and praises you for it. It was said by Neil Postman that "People will come to love their oppression, to adore the technologies that undo their capacities to think." This they have. However, at what point is it fit that we should no longer blame the conveyor for our actions? We had the choice to board it, and even for those of us that did not, we, every day, have the choice to disembark.
The problem comes after this. What is one to do apart from the machine? In what direction should one travel? What thoughts should one think, and likewise act upon? I cannot tell you this. No one can. I can tell you where to find your answer. It's in your room. Nietzsche says that curiosity is the most agreeable of all vices. Likewise, I should assert that agency is the most forgiving of all virtues. You may leave your room, mount the machine, and commit infidelity with the vices of this world, and still, when you return to your room, agency awaits.
Yotam, Kris. (May 2026). A Room of My Own. krisyotam.com. https://krisyotam.com/diary/on-myself/a-room-of-my-own
@article{yotam2026a-room-of-my-own,
title = "A Room of My Own",
author = "Yotam, Kris",
journal = "krisyotam.com",
year = "2026",
month = "May",
url = "https://krisyotam.com/diary/on-myself/a-room-of-my-own"
}