Hey Again

SO cold in Marin...New York wont be much better I'm sure. Absent minded me left my suitcase back in santa cruz. Wondering if thats just a lot on my mind or inadequacy of my mind...either way I need to get it together. Working on fighting resentment lately, it builds quicker than any other passion a man will ever encounter, just as Neitzche said...although, when I think about it, I can't help but wonder how long it had been since Nietzche got laid last... thought of the moment..whats this "monetize" tab blogger has up at the top of the page now? I realize those of you reading this (haha probably no one who wants to read this garbage except me in a futile attempt to take an objective look at my self once in a while) dont know what I am talking about but on the page where I am writing this there are a bunch of tabs and one of them says "Monetize" ...does that mean they put impressionist paintings in the background of your profile and play Debussy? Honestly I think I'd be pretty down. Debussy time...peace out king crimson! Ah, thats more like it. I use this radio program called last.fm, its a lot like pandora. Exactly the same, actually, minus the advertisements since I use a downloaded program instead of the bonehead website. Anyway, you type in king crimson, adrian belew, robert fripp..whatever you like. Once in maybe 5 or 6 songs you'll get a song by one of those artists. One in every 3 or 4 songs that actually play will be good..the others are just some cheesy bullshit that someone decided they would call "progressive" and thats the genius of the "progressive" genre....you can't really descriminate against much unless someone is playing a 12 bar blues...thats pretty obviously not progressive. All this music talk is boring you, I can see it. Ah, here I am talking like I'm Fyodor Dostoyevsky or something...then again from what I've read of his works I feel a stronger connection to his thoughts and supposed mannerisms than to any other author I've recently read...(cough cough nietzche cough cough). Am I being pretentious right now? Probably...but that's the fun of thinking. Judge me all you want, chances are I'll judge you right back. It's human nature and there isnt a god damn thing any of us can do about it, or anything else in this godforsaken world except breathe. No I'm not pessimistic, I just let my mind wander and when I drink too much espresso, it doesn't really like to stop and smell the lilacs. Had to substitute lilacs in for roses there cause I can't stand using those damn cliché's all the time...and there I just admitted to knowingly using it. The irony here is great!

Thats all, man!

Stream of consciousness

Some of my stream of consciousness writing, in the form of a story.
Enjoy.
-------------------------------------------------

Spontanaity
1)
There was an eery glow to the sun that day, he noticed. They were walking down a dark green pasture towards the ocean. “Why are we here?” He asked. Ignoring him, she continued to traipse through the meadow, light hearted, without much cause besides those which are inevitable and present from time to time in one’s life. His lusts outweighed his doubts, so he continued to follow. Fractals of light reflected off the water from the bright sun above, causing him to squint. He wanted to ponder his situation out loud, but was afraid to do so for various reasons, one of them being his fear of the potential impressions he might give. She was starting to lose him, so he jogged along in an attempt to regain lost ground. This was only the beginning of the distance he would regain, or would he regain the distance? And he didn’t even know her name.

Steve was ruffling through papers at his desk, exhausted and disappointed. A short and wiry man leaned through the doorway, “Steve, are you coming?” “Just go on without me, Earl” he said in a distant tone. There was something unusual about Steve, normally he was very direct with Earl, but today he seemed to be somewhere else. Earl considered giving him the same half hearted verbal-pats-on-the-back an empathetic co-worker on friendly terms would tell another. He wanted to tell Steve not to be so hard on himself, but in truth, all Earl really wanted was to lock up and go home. “Steve, you know I cant leave you here like this. C’mon, we’ll grab a drink or somethin’ “ he said. Reluctantly, Steve arose amidst overwhelming stacks of ruffled paper, cough drop wrappers and empty coffee cups, and grabbed his briefcase, slamming it shut with no regards to the several papers which spilled out onto the floor, yanked it up and trudged head down towards the door. “I think im just going to call it a night, Earl, but thanks.” Steve flagged a taxi and was gone momentarily. Slightly bewildered, Earl shrugged and headed down market in the opposite direction.

Earl didn’t enjoy drinking alone but then again drinking alone was much preferable to not drinking at all. His job was dull and stressful, and he had no idea where it was even taking him to begin with. Every time he pondered this he became uncomfortable and shielded off his thoughts with any mental distraction possible. It was getting progressively more difficult to ignore, however, and he knew that ultimately it was a problem he would have to confront. Confrontation was never Earl’s forte, and the only reasoning which he could use to reassure himself that this was alright, was that he preferred to allow what was determined to take their natural course. “Yeah, right” he thought, as he remembered his friend who had wrapped his Chevy Nova around an oak tree several years before. He should have taken the keys, he should have taken those god forsaken keys. But was it really guilt he felt? Doubtful, he had been completely apathetic about the accident as far as his compulsory emotions were concerned. He realized that he should feel badly about what had happened, whether or not it was his fault, it was a shitty chain of events. He felt nothing, he hadn’t shed a tear since probably the time he had skinned his knee in fourth grade after his brothers graduation. Where the hell was his brother anyways? They hadn’t spoken in several months, Earl had given up on trying. His brother Calvin was too damn busy for anyone. Earl, on the other hand, couldn’t help but feel as if he were doing next to nothing, considering his potential. A college degree had gotten him a position as a clerk in a dingy legal office on the edge of town. “Oh, now I’m just being negative” he thought. “You gonna order anything or are you just gonna stare at the wall all night?” the bartender asked. Startled, Earl looked up. A Cute little blond was standing there, waiting for his command. HIS command. “Well?” she asked. Earl ordered a gin and tonic and continued to think about his brother.

Steve, on the other hand, had no particular destination in mind. He realized he had to get out of the cab at some point, because he was running low on cash. He exited the cab near the bridge and walked along the river. This had happened to him in the past, where his thoughts got the better of him, causing him stress, sadness, confusion. Usually after a couple days the feelings would wear off. But for the time being? His mind was his only companion. No one else could possibly understand what was going through his head, or maybe, he just didnt want to tell anyone exactly what it was. Even the thought of exposing his true feelings to the world was overwhelming. There was only one individual he could comfortably reveal them to.

-----------------------------------------------------
I kinda lost inspiration on this one, but if I choose continue it I'll post more.

That elephant in the room

Why is it that I want this formidable thing? Why is it that outside this thing all signs point to no, even my own mental roads, yet inside this thing all roads lead to yes? Why do I call myself rational and yet go against everything I would tell another person in this situation? Well not everything I guess, but everything I would have told a person in my position given everything in the past. I guess its human nature and there is really no more specificity to it than that.

[curse word]

On Psychological Egoism

Psychological egoism, an idea thought up by philosopher John Hobbes (yes, this is who the stuffed tiger hobbes in calvin and hobbes is named after, as his character can attest) suggests that every conscious action we commit as humans is done for ourselves, in one way or another. To put it simply: BY NATURE, HUMANS DO EVERYTHING FOR THEMSELVES. Humans will not commit an action that their mind does not perceive as benefitting them in some way. Lately I have thought up a few cases where this could be argued and then realized they do not evade the argument by any means. I will start off with a few examples to clarify this subject first.

1. A man walks to the store to buy bread. He buys bread so that he can feed himself. That one is obvious.

2. A soldier throws himself on a grenade to save his 5 other soldier friends. In this case, there must have been some mental idea present that being a martyr would benefit his name, that others might see him as a hero--he had SOMETHING to gain, whatever it was, he committed to the act because it benefitted him.

But here was an example that troubled me for a bit.

3. An immature teenager who is not all that bright gets bored so he decides to burn his arm. He doesn't know what will happen, he just does it. It hurts him, leaves a mark. Well it came to me that this example is the most obvious of all! The answer is within the very beginning of the sentence, too. He wants to free himself of boredom! Or his parents are perhaps neglectful of him and he wants attention, positive or negative, he doesn't care---just like in the case of a child trying to aggravate their parent just for the hell of it.

This can obviously be a horrible thing but on the other hand it gives me some hope for humans, as a race. The fact that we have enough nuclear weaponry to blow up the world over 6 times does not mean we would ever do that--why would anyone ever want to wipe out the entire human race? Perhaps they might wipe out a large portion of the race--but the human race itself is destined to survive.

Having said that I now feel like an idiot because nature could wipe out our entire race with ease by throwing upon us natural disasters of magnitude we could not comprehend. Then again, we do have space shuttles, but to where? There has to be somewhere else we could live, because the entire scope of our knowledge as humans is less than one millionth of what actually exists in entirety, and in addition to that, another thing outside of our scope of knowledge is what the FUCK existence even is, how the FUCK we know that WE even exist, god, its so overwhelming when you think that this could all be a dream, but what is a dream? What do we even fucking know? Do we know that there are 4 million other colors we cant see? We certainly dont know there aren't.

From all this, my conclusion (and digression) ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE.

Love youself.

Much love,
-Zephyr

Hypocrisy

Am I losing my morals and values? Am I going against things which I very strongly believe in? Am I even worth shit if this is the case? Am I merely human? Well yeah....

A Guided Meditation? (Not in the traditional sense, of course...)

And I said unto mike...

Z:At times the sentiment prevails within me that I often, if not constantly overthink trifles and underthink relevant and self concerning matters. Is this normal?

M:God Bless America!

Z:On a less shallow level than that, of course...(I hoped...)On a personal, non materialistic level, closer to psychological egoism than anytthing...something which I want to learn to overcome to the best of my ability. The obvious answer which you just gave me is troubling, not because you gave it, of course, but because it iis in fact the obvious answer. [to my question]

M:I know. It sucks. But there's nothing to keep you from being the exception to the norm.

Z: Not a damn thing I can do about it? The only way to succeed is to play ball, I suppose.

M: I don't really understand what you're saying. my experiences hitchhiking disproved psychological egoism at least in enough people for me.

Z:What I mean is that social situations which affect the well being of my ego at certain times seem to take precedence over serious matters concerning my existence and the good that can come of it.

M: When that happens, look at your hands and see if someone's opinion of you is making you disintegrate. Ignore that advice if you're on psychedelics.

[end]



M

As of today revisited

---

Obviously I dont have anything more than a rough idea of what I would enjoy doing for a living. Perhaps teaching, as a professor at a university? Or perhaps trying to make it as a musician, of any sort, really, perhaps a seat in a symphony. But how do I just decide arbitrarily what will be best for me? Take chances here? I'd rather not. Philosophical thought, to me, is a stable, logical and therefore trustworthy way of reasoning. Philosophical thought is a rather broad term, I know. What I really mean is certain methods of the aforementioned elements are garnished with the also aforementioned traits, respectively .This is why a major in Philosophy, to me, just makes more sense than anything else at the moment. I could find myself as a neurosurgeon in thirty years for all I know, on the other hand I could be dead. Until I have practiced these "stable, logical and therefore trustworthy" methods of thinking to a satisfactory degree, in accordance to myself as well as those in this field more knowledgeable than I, I see no hope in trying to dream up a future for myself.

If this strikes anyone on a discordant note, please, explain why, and tell me how you would reason this differently.

---

OH man...

Sorry, this wasnt intended to be a space where I document my dreams, but this one is just too fweird (yes, the word is a combination of fuckin and weird)

There are some parts I definitely wont write, because theyre just too...wrong.

Go home to visit family, only to find my dad has bought a ferrari. What?

Then I look at my car, which now has huge wheels, and a weird painjob...I rush to my car, only to find the license plate is different, then I see mine just a few feet away, in its normal condition...except...

I go up to it, to see that some punks have spraypainted all over it, and keyed the paint off in some places! Like..this is really bad!

My dads deceased best friend is sitting on the front wheelwell, pondering life. He refuses a ride when I offer it.

When I finally enter the vehicle, there is a strong smell of primetime cigarettes (yeah, little cigars? I call em cigarettes, bitch, cant hide shit from me). I think, "shit! someone has been using my car for a smoking spot? Not chill! I Move around in my seat a bit, and I hear someone grunt behind me. Now this shit is just too weird to comprehend. Someone is hiding in my car? What? I turn around, only to realize that the back bench seat (which comes up to reveal a small storage space/ the car's battery compartment) seem strangely out of place, it lifts up, to reveal Kristin sitting on Sohrob's lap. Kristin is still holding a bud light in her hand, and her first words are "how did I get here? I dont remember coming in here."

Sohrob just sits there.

Fuckin' Sohrob....

I did drive my dad's ferrari in my dream, and it was sick as fuck.

As of Today

I have a purpose---

to learn how to think, to analyze how others have thought, to analyze how and why they may have thought these thoughts.

And most importantly, to figure out how NOT to think is my primary goal here.

These are my preconceived thoughts, officially, on what I feel the purpose of my Philosophy major should be. I will be a little more specific as things go forward.

dreams

dreams somehow giving me the idea that i need to worry about books i didnt read two quarters ago, that they will somehow affect my current state of affairs when in fact it is all said and done. i have said it before and will say it again: i create stress for myself habitually. I dont understand why. It's like the rain here, always coming and going, all the while getting me down on myself. Sometimes I just wish I could put my body on autopilot and just sit in a corner somewhere and read all the books in the world that interest me. Enough of this tangent positive sine positive cosine secant bullshit. Enough of this gobbelty gook that occupies my thoughts.

Although to be honestly, at the moment all is really quite well, the above was merely a meditation on past thoughts and events if anything at all.

this post

is blank

I was driving along a road, staring out the back window, when suddenly...

I was flying, really high, not in the traditional wings spread, belly down, head first sort of way, but rather as if I were paragliding: with my ass first, my feet tucked in front of me, my arms were hanging on to an invisible bar...yet...I could control my direction. As I continued to fall, I begun to have doubts of how and where I would land. Everything is moving so quickly, my surroundings were a green brown and golden blur of what seemed to be some valley in the Santa Cruz/Monterey area, I saw a tree to the bottom right...and then...

My friend was flying right next to me, he started speaking in my ear, rapidly, urgently, yet all he was telling me is how his band broke up. There was such an air of importance and desperation in his tone, and the next thing I knew I had landed, facing backwards, sliding on my ass/back (ass soon as gravity pulls me down on to my back..) I slid, slid, slid for maybe 100 feet, not enduring any pain, just sliding, until I finally came to a halt. I rolled over to face a long line of spectators, some not paying any attention, others pointing and chuckling.

Thats about the time I woke up, and my head felt really heavy.

[end]

Disloyalty

Disclaimer: Before reading this, I would just like to clarify that I do not condone adultry/cheating/disloyalty/sleepin around/whatever you wanna call it in ANY way, this is just a philosophical discussion on the aforementioned subject which my mind had with itself one night, about 19 days ago.

today I have discovered a conflict in thinking, it follows as such:

A man cheats on his wife, is caught, his wife kills herself, he feels
like shit.

A man cheats on his wife and is not caught. He does not feel bad.

A man cheats on his wife, is not caught and regardless, feels bad
about the occurrance.

The first instance indicates that when one is found out for cheating,
his wife is emotionally damaged, because her ego tells her that others
who find out about this will damage her social standing in these
regards:

1) she is uninformed and out of the loop with her own life
2) she is not good enough in bed if she can't deterr her husband from
cheating.
3) she is the fool for making a mistake in trusting him

Lets say he is caught, The woman tells her friends, they tell their
friends, word gets out. Her ego suffers at her own hands, it seems
although the general public might have found out in another way in the
future, and she would suffer from the first insecurity with social
standings mentioned above.

Now, the man feels bad because
Most people now think the man is a fuckhead for what he has done to
his wife. But the important question is...
WHAT EXACTLY HAS HE DONE?!? If he were to get away with it, who would
have been hurt by this? Nobody would have cared if they didn't know.
He would likely have enjoyed the sexual encounter, therefore, even
from a utilitarian stance this is completely ok. The negative hedons
*happiness units do not occur if the sex is good and no one finds out.
*Keep in mind when we speak of utility here we are ignoring the idea
of the girl he cheated with's mindset of the experience; this is
unimportant and her mindset does not concern this argument.

Now another man knows this man. He happens to have cheated on his wife
five years ago. Let's say before his friend, out initial unfaithful
man (Rick) cheated, our second undaithful man (Tommy) had never heard
of anyone getting caught and chastised for cheating.

After this instance, however, he will feel bad, because his ego is now
at risk. People might somehow findout, his wife might find out, he
will become a fuckhead to society and may never get laid again, or at
least not for a while. But initially, if no one were eve to have been
caught, to his knowledge, the action of cheating has no negative
conscience.

Therefore, to suggest that the act of cheating without being caught is
unethical is a circular argument. Although, at this point, unless
you're stupid, you have seen the negative cobsequinces of cheating in
the past, which invalidates any excuse to not feel bad about cheating.

To avoid being caught for cheating requires being extremely sneaky and
secrative.

To be unconscious of any thoughts of cheating being wrong requires
extremely excessive sheltering, stupidity , or some balanced amount of
both.

Let's face it, if you're sheltered you don't understand society, thus
you have no way of knowing what sneaky is in society.

If you're stupid you simply can't be sneaky because being stupid
implies you have little knowledge of anything, including sneakiness.
The only possibility of not getting caught is sheer luck.

Therefore, your chances of getting off guilt (ego damage) free for
cheating are slim.

Now given all that, is cheating really worth it?

Artificial Stress

Last night, I had many bizarre dreams. One of which was somewhat of a combination of my current college and my past high school. Many occurrences took place in this dream, but I distinctly remember the one I am about to share, for I dreampt it right before waking up.

I was nearly done with finals, I just had one more to go, and for some reason, I was really stressing out about it. Then I remembered, there was no reason to stress, it was just my english final, with mr stenberg (I took english with Mr. Stenberg as a junior in high school). IT was then that I had realized, of course, I hadn't gone to mr stenberg's class all quarter, of course, (because it doesnt exist where I go to school...duh). Nonetheless, I go to the final, and sit down with some friends. Stenberg looks the same as he always has, but for some strange reason he has a thick east european accent; he can't pronounce anything the way I remember him being able to in the past.

As I enter the room, he is harping at us about how nobody came to his review sessions, let alone, his classes. I look at one chalkboard, and see a huge list words under a category titled "Illiteral", In addition to these words, there are many complex puzzles and diagrams, all of which I had little to no understanding. On the other board, there were many words under the category of "irrational" which I did not understand either. I thought to myself: "well, here goes, I'm really going to fail this one"
and I began kicking myself for not attending class. Stenberg said "im sure you are all very scared for this final, well, I taught 42 empty classes, so...so am I!"

that is where the dream ended.

Looking back on the dream, I see it as a message to myself. A message telilng me that I stress myself out over the smallest, most unnecessary things. In this case, I am on spring break, and have nothing to stress over, so my mind created this dream, and I woke up stressed as hell!

It is very clear to me now that the feeling of stress is entirely separate from a huge workload, a struggling relationship, or anything like that. Stress has its own entity, and I believe it can be avoided in nearly every circumstance. As we see in my dream, my reasoning for stress was completely fallacious, my dream was a shitty situation, but for that stress to carry over to real life when I awoke, was complete nonsense. And somehow, I think it is no coincidence that the words on the chalkboards were "illiteral" and "irrational," for they were a description of my thoughts at the time.

So uhh, there you have it.

[end]

huh

Well, theres a blank text box looking back at me. The cursor flashes, urging me to write. Lets see, for the last day or three, I lived life freely, ideally. Sixty seven you're close to heaven your crew still reppin but im like losing my train of thought here god dai thought up a whole lecture for the last twenty or soe iinutes when we played stupid whateveritscalled god dan i cant remember the name for the life of me. wow. wow. wow. shit. i am so sleepy at present I just closed my eyes so while i write this my head is likely somewhere else in dreamland. tell me that ainta trip


END?!??@?

Brain in a Vat

Throughout the past week, lectures, articales, descartes, and films have all tried to bring to light to me that for all I know, I may very well not be anything more than a brain in a vat. There is no us to deny this because there is no way for us to hold the knowedge that we are not in fact, a brain in a vat. This is extremely frustrating, with all this talk of dystopias (see 1984, brave new world), it makes SENSE that I would be some sort of experiment, does it not? Today I read a paper with a possible objection to this argument which presents us with the harsh condition that we have no means of proving we are not brains in vats. Meaning that, our insensitivity to the idea of being brains in vats because "CLEARLY, I AM REAL, I SEE MY HANDS! IM REAL!", that insensitivity does not imply independence, meaning, in proving that we are not brains in vats, there is not necessarily a need for independence of our proof that we are not such, from our past experience, as reasoning.

Sure, thats really dense and you probably dont know (and trust me, you probably dont want to know) what I am talking about. (Although I have recently thought that the more uncomfortable a thought makes me, the more necessary it becomes for me to think about it, within reason, of course, as Leo Tolstoy can attest*).

But what really troubles me about all this--this "not knowing if im not this, or not that" thing is that---

by that same reasoning, I could broaden that perspective even more to say

How do I know i am not dreaming? How do I know that every concept I have ever learned even exists in reality? How does ANYONE know what reality is? What is reality? What is a brain? What is a vat?

What if there is a whole species of aliens who have some crazy complex way of dreaming that brings others temporarily into existence for merely the purpose of their dream---these people are real, have feelings, etc, but exist only because of an aliens dream?

How can one argue that wihtout appealing to past experience?

What I am getting from any of this is that it does not really matter in the end, because as David Hume concluded, (with his problem of induction---read it, im certainly not gonna try and explain it...) by nature, we will eventually just think "OH WELL" and go back to our daily lives.

Or commit suicide....

Anyways its time to get back to my reading...


^^WOW DID YOU SEE THAT?! I JUST EXEMPLIFIED MYSELF!


Well, Hope you get my point. If you do, Please let me know.







* Tolstoy thought too much about the meaning of life and became very depressed, even suicidal. He concluded that to think about those questions was a setup for depression, as well as a dead end. Maybe he's just lazy and negative...but who am I to judge?!

[end]

FSA

surely, you all know the saying: "take the time to stop and smell the roses"

Something along those lines, anyways. Well, I tried that, it did little more than throw me completely off track with everything I was doing. Once you stop and smell the roses, the roses become so sweet it can be difficult to get going again.

Because once its time to get going again, you realize how late you are, and you realize all the reprocussions of how late you are. At this point it is easy to enter a state of panic, and panic is a horrible experience. For me, it lasts a short while before I just take things into perspective and keep on truckin', so to speak. For others, panic is a precursor to the quicksand of procrastination. This is not to say that I dont procrastinate on a daily, or hourly, for that matter, basis. And I may be rambling on at this very moment, not cognizant of the fact that I am one of these victims of which I speak. In any case, what I was trying to say is that this quicksand, it sucks you in, and sometimes its impossible to pull yourself out. I've recently witnessed multiple people give up on one thing or another (from a course, up to their entire college education!!) because of the overwhelming sense panic and procrastination team up to give someone.

That is why it is appropriate in these situations to just take a deep breath, and tell oneself:

"This too shall pass."

[end]

Dont

Does it really fucking matter how much money I make?


Yes.
well thats a problem

Sometimes I feel the only thing that can save me from myself---the bearing of the horrible thoughts I have found myself to be capable of thinking is music. In fact, its a great way to judge how serious an issue is for me. I am not talking about simply putting on my favorite record, although I am saying nothing against that, I am saying---

playing music with people who understand me, musically, allows me to--

holdon my jerkoff room mate's cell phone alarm just went off. why the hell he leaves it in here, I dont know.
Oh its his girlfriends. well that makes even less sense.

Ok, playing music with people who understand me, musically, allows me to (prepare for cheesy statement) express my true inner thoughts without fear of their effect on others. Nah thats not what I wanted to say, because half the time it doesnt even work that way.

I guess what I mean by all this garbled bullshit is that when playing music with those who parallel me on--skill level, interests, etc.--when that doesnt save me from a shitty day, there really aint nothin that will.

Thats why its a good say to judge whether certain emotions I may experience at any given time are anything to worry about.

Then again, everything I am saying here could very well be a direct example of cognitive dissonance--in which the areas of your brain which you use to conduct reasoning shut down--leaving your emotions to do the dirty work--making yourself feel better. In a sense...---OH! THERE IT IS! I HAVE IT! When the reasoning parts of my brain shut down, music can do the reasoning so that my emotions dont come in twisting and distorting my reality.

Music is the middleman.

[e nd]

Life Goes On

I think what really fucks me up emotionally, more than anything is suspense. If I know something is the case, one way or another, I tend to feel a whole lot better about it. The not knowing factor does not allow me to prepare for the result of the problem. This is, of course, how it is, for everyone, im sure. Just something that came to me today.

[end]

What brings me true happiness...

Knowing the people I care about


care about


me.


Knowing the people I think about


think about


me.


[end]

Love yourself

Love yourself. It is understandable finally as to why it is unhealthy not to love yourself. When you love another person, you fear conflict with them because you fear conflict may result in the eventual separation between you and your loved one. This is true for nearly everyone, every type of relationship, whether it is a sibling or a spouse. You can have conflicts with yourself in the same manner that you can with anyone else, practically. You may grow angry at yourself for any number of reasons, you may not be able to understand yourself, which will frustrate you, you may fight with yourself on what you want to do. Your mind and body will quarrel. WIth another, you can always just walk away and isolate yourself from them, however, save for death, or brain death, I can think of no plausible way to leave your body unless it is through some sort of spiritual enlightenment. However this means is only effective if you know your body and love your body, and therefore would not be having these issues in the first place. So we can rule that one out. You can neglect yourself, but you can not get rid of your self unless you die.

Thats a conclusion I just came to, anyways.

[end]

losing

Ever get the feeling that something really great to you is beginning to slip between your fingers? Doesnt it just instill that sinking feeling within your stomach that is really unmatchable by any news short of your friends or family dying? Ok maybe a slight exaggeration. Besides its different than that. No this is a shitty feeling that comes in bursts and just makes you feel so horrible, because the feeling it gives you suggests there is really nothing you can do about this really great thing slipping away from you. Directly approching the problem may fix it, however if this just my anxiety acting up again, partnering up with my overactive imagination, and there is no problem, I would be merely creating a problem if anything. I suppose taking passive actions could help, again, assuming there is a problem. But what actions would I even take? Whcih are the right ones? To know that I would have to no have this problem out of the way. Theres a monkey wrench on my mood. Every once in a while, someone walks past and bumps the handle swinging it to the opposite side. Cant stop this cant stop this cant stop this cant stop this cant stop this feeling. Living. Thats what it is.

[end]

Taking a step outside...myself

approx 115
------------
On a day such as this, that which starts off well, is so-so and it's becomings progressively worse, I could not retain my head.

Cold, wet, rainy, bike crash, shitty technology, nagging by ladies I do not formally know...

those are some of the adjectives and verbs which can describe this day. And when I said verbs, I was meaning to say nouns, so please substitute it respectively.

I was internally burning, my body could not react in a way other than provoking my mind, whichever part it is, that causes me to speak; to utter numerous combinations of curse words. "FUCK THIS SHIT" "FUCK ME" "GOD, FUCK IT ALL RIGHT NOW" et cetera. It led me to ponder myself. What was I doing? Aside from being a nearly broke college student I can not think of anything else that is not wonderful at this time of my life. I looked at myself from a birdseye view. I'm only a cultivation of matter, but as one once said, Matter is never without spirit, and spirit is never without matter. Im not so sure about the latter half of that quote, but focusing on the primary segment: i am not an insignificant speck of matter. Even if I were to be stranded in the middle of the ocean, alone, starving to death, I would merely be insignificant to my immediate surroundings. Numerous others would be directly affected in one way or another due to my disappearance. Who I am matters, to some degree. I took some deep breaths, exchanged formalities and informalities with some comrades while inhaling fumes of cancer. I took a walk. My cooler head has prevailed, once again my perceptions are intact with content.

To label this entry as narcissistic would be a deep misunderstanding; and if one should take it as such, please, I will be happy to explain.

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A bottomless list

Well I suppose aside from money everything is going nothing short of spectacular at the moment. Fueled by shelled peanuts I procrastinate my way into another sleepless night, for while I should be writing elsewhere I find myself writing here. Well whatever Im a rough draft to this world at least for a while. I am constantly stifled by thoughts, always prodding me to ask "why?".
I find myself to be overly of myself at times, resulting my my imagination, I sure do let that thing run free.

i look towards my morning and see nothing there except fried liquid egg yolks, a cup of lipton and letter/number symbols in a room not unlike a prison. This looks doubleplusungood to me.

So whatever you got from that, make sure you also get it in your skull, not to suppress yourself.