Wednesday, October 30, 2013
my favorite passage from Zhuangzi
We sleep and our spirits converge; we awake and our bodies open
outward. We give, we receive, we act, we construct; all day long we
apply our minds to struggles against one thing or another--struggles
unadorned or struggles concealed, but in either case tightly packed one
after another without gap.
The small fears leave us nervous and depleted; the large fears leave us stunned and blank. Shooting forth like an arrow from a bowstring; such is our presumption when we arbitrate right and wrong. Holding fast as if to sworn oaths: such is our defense of our victories.
Worn away as if by autumn and winter: such is our daily dwindling, drowning us in our own activities, unable to turn back.
The small fears leave us nervous and depleted; the large fears leave us stunned and blank. Shooting forth like an arrow from a bowstring; such is our presumption when we arbitrate right and wrong. Holding fast as if to sworn oaths: such is our defense of our victories.
Worn away as if by autumn and winter: such is our daily dwindling, drowning us in our own activities, unable to turn back.
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Book life
I read a book yesterday. It felt like clicking back into the summer setting. Turning pages, hopping from perch to perch as I followed the sun's arc over my house. I spent a few hours with people, but there was always the slow murmur behind my brain that asked 'what happens next, how does it end, what will it say,' encouraging me to leave my friends.
Neuromancer, by William Gibson. Today I rode my bike to Powell's to pick up the sequel. Lolita has become too creepy. I can no longer have any feeling toward Humbert Humbert but revulsion. No feelings towards Lolita but pity. Not because of the situation, but because of how they are acting. The situation has been the same for a while, but the people are becoming more pathetic. I'm sure I'll get through it eventually. But for now, Count Zero.
Neuromancer, by William Gibson. Today I rode my bike to Powell's to pick up the sequel. Lolita has become too creepy. I can no longer have any feeling toward Humbert Humbert but revulsion. No feelings towards Lolita but pity. Not because of the situation, but because of how they are acting. The situation has been the same for a while, but the people are becoming more pathetic. I'm sure I'll get through it eventually. But for now, Count Zero.
Thursday, October 17, 2013
Self-Like
I really think I sorted something out tonight.
Last year was hard in ways I still don't understand. Emotionally and intellectually, I was at the end of the rope. The entire candle was on fire. The metaphors lay gasping at the last stretch of the marathon.
Right?
But I didn't really see it at the time. Even with the full mental breakdown, and the week in bed, I didn't realize how far gone I was. But cut to France, where I have nothing but perspective. That's when I realized I don't even recognize the girl living my life. Why did she make those choices, and who was she appeasing or pleasing or disappointing?
Now I'm back in the same situation. Funny thing is, I still don't recognize myself. It's not a lack of motivation, its a lack of motivation behind the motivation. Why am I motivated to do anything, to speak to anyone, to paint my room or to eat food? Who am I.
In short, I've been having a year-long existential crisis. It's just been masquerading as existence.
So how is this a breakthrough.
Well, the breakthrough was 2 hours ago so in part I don't really remember. But the gist is that the questions I've been asking myself aren't fair. I am not some isolated thing that exists regardless of my circumstances. I don't recognize myself because I need to stop assuming that I know myself. I need to keep knowing myself.
I have self-love. But self-like is something that needs to morph with me. I need to prepare to be a friend to myself, not just a sister. I can do it.
Last year was hard in ways I still don't understand. Emotionally and intellectually, I was at the end of the rope. The entire candle was on fire. The metaphors lay gasping at the last stretch of the marathon.
Right?
But I didn't really see it at the time. Even with the full mental breakdown, and the week in bed, I didn't realize how far gone I was. But cut to France, where I have nothing but perspective. That's when I realized I don't even recognize the girl living my life. Why did she make those choices, and who was she appeasing or pleasing or disappointing?
Now I'm back in the same situation. Funny thing is, I still don't recognize myself. It's not a lack of motivation, its a lack of motivation behind the motivation. Why am I motivated to do anything, to speak to anyone, to paint my room or to eat food? Who am I.
In short, I've been having a year-long existential crisis. It's just been masquerading as existence.
So how is this a breakthrough.
Well, the breakthrough was 2 hours ago so in part I don't really remember. But the gist is that the questions I've been asking myself aren't fair. I am not some isolated thing that exists regardless of my circumstances. I don't recognize myself because I need to stop assuming that I know myself. I need to keep knowing myself.
I have self-love. But self-like is something that needs to morph with me. I need to prepare to be a friend to myself, not just a sister. I can do it.
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Recognition
These days I don't recognize myself. I don't see my face I don't see
my handwriting I don't see my art I don't hear my words I don't feel my
desires I don't make my choices I
I feel lost. I want to know if I am who I want to be. I mean, obviously not, but I want to be able to work towards who I want to be. I just don't know where I am or where I'm going.
All I know is where I've been, and that looks more and more appealing.
So I don't value myself. I want to go back to someone I was satisfied with.
That is a) impossible b) wrong and I have some explaining to do.
I feel lost. I want to know if I am who I want to be. I mean, obviously not, but I want to be able to work towards who I want to be. I just don't know where I am or where I'm going.
All I know is where I've been, and that looks more and more appealing.
So I don't value myself. I want to go back to someone I was satisfied with.
That is a) impossible b) wrong and I have some explaining to do.
Monday, October 14, 2013
Monday, October 7, 2013
Night
Edith came over and we gave eachother massages while listening to Broken Social Scene and I pretty much forgot about all other thoughts.
Also my ear is being stretch to accommodate a beautiful silver swirl and I think this body mod will do me good.
The methox only cured my sadness for a week, but caffeinating cures my sadness for a day. It also makes me sweat and talk and yell and be easily annoyed and bored, but it works. Caffeine gives me ADHD?
Seems logical.
Didn't do any homework tonight. Fuck the police.
Self-love>Beer's law.
Oh chemistry I love you sometimes. I love me always. And the rest it's like, eh...
Hot freshman though. Need to make moves.
Also my ear is being stretch to accommodate a beautiful silver swirl and I think this body mod will do me good.
The methox only cured my sadness for a week, but caffeinating cures my sadness for a day. It also makes me sweat and talk and yell and be easily annoyed and bored, but it works. Caffeine gives me ADHD?
Seems logical.
Didn't do any homework tonight. Fuck the police.
Self-love>Beer's law.
Oh chemistry I love you sometimes. I love me always. And the rest it's like, eh...
Hot freshman though. Need to make moves.
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