herbert blau was a huge nerd

“It is the hauntedness of being-perceived in the beginning which is in Artaud--whom Derrida has studied as a mirror of thought--the reason for madness. It is also the ontological basis of what for Artaud is Original Sin, the idea of an audience, the specular entity whose name suggests the Word, the thing heard. The audience--the ones who look--is the look of the Law. It is the audited reflection of originary division and primal separation. [...] It is a sign of the original bloody show in the ritual drama, the loss of precious parts of ourselves that are only re-membered in dreams. It is the preying eye of the specular ego which depreciates us and soils us in the name of a lethal power which steals both word and flesh. It is the insinuating difference in a structure of theft, or rather the double that inserts itself between ourselves and birth, [...], the nothing that posits itself between us and origins, what comes to be the history whose name is death.” (17)

blau u have a newborn child put down the bong.

jk this just blew my mind 2 smithereens.

i love finals but i hate finals but i kinda wanna always be this amazed and if finals are how that happens then i guess i love finals

picky picky

all I want is a cheap trashy fountain pen or 10 (since I lose things) why are there no options on this fucking continent

why was the black pelikano limited edition

whywhywhy

ok I'll go to bed and stop whining

trying to write a final

Is time fragmented? Is my body? Is my memory? Is my narrative?

Yes, but not really in the way that I have to write about for my paper.

Do I experience a combination of self-rejection and self-perception? Yes. Is it torture? Sometimes.

Does it trap me in my immediate experiences, outside of the possibility for reflection or progress, in a liminal space between interiority and exteriority?

Why are you interrogating me?

Answer my question.

thinking about violence

I hate quantum mechanics for the way it makes me feel while I’m doing it. I hate that the math seems to obscure the concepts for me, not illuminate them. I also hate a feeling that happened just once. I hate that after two hours of thinking and scribbling I looked at the work I had done for my final exam and had a strong desire to stab myself in the eye with my mechanical pencil.

Not just a mechanical pencil, but specifically a drafting pencil. Before the .7 lead peaks out there is a slender metal tube that extends from the taper after the grip.  The inside of my left eye ached for that little hollow cylinder, and my right eye could almost feel it already. My hand trembled, not because I was about to do it, but because I wanted it so badly.

I’ve engaged in the dark art of  “self-harm” as they call it. I don’t feel like it really deserves the umbrella term. I have cut my hand to watch it heal. I have cut my stomach to distract myself from other pain. And thanks to quantum mechanics, I have almost maimed myself because I wanted to.

I hope that the distinction is clear.

Violence to eyes, from writing implements. So key to each other, suddenly opposed. It’s disgusting. They don’t deserve each other, not in that way.

tummy troubled by mindgames

god this boy and I made out for like half of thesis parade and we're acting like nothing happened and this is just ridiculous I'm seriously considering talking to him but that seems pretty drastic so we will just see.

post script

"What is theatricality? It is theatre-minus-text, it is a density of signs and sensations which is constructed on stage starting from the written argument."

"What is theatricality? It is theatre-minus-text, it is a density of signs and sensations which is constructed on stage starting from the written argument."

"What is theatricality? It is theatre-minus-text, it is a density of signs and sensations which is constructed on stage starting from the written argument."

"What is theatricality? It is theatre-minus-text, it is a density of signs and sensations which is constructed on stage starting from the written argument."

-barthes

far escape

Farscape plays behind my Mini-Orals presentation tonight. It's not done, my French reading is not done, I have 1 hour tomorrow to finish both of them if I give myself 8 hours of sleep.

Endless.

Until December 15th.

This Friday is Spring-Fall thesis parade. Kisses will help, dancing and champagne will help.

Well, today I give myself 7.5 hours of sleep. I choose that invariably now, unlike two years ago when I would shoot for an integer multiple of 1.5 regardless of the n I ended up with (though I generally wanted at least a 2.) Well times have changed now and that is how it is. This is how it is.

Nothing is particularly special tonight, which is why I can't work. Work is about special things. I want to work on mysteries and questions.

BEDTIME