In other news…

I met the twin (not really) of someone who demands quite a bit of respect from me.

I heard her voice and I knew that I had heard one exactly like it before.  Even her appearance was rather similar.

Kinda strange, really.  Maybe it’s just a regional thing.

Habituated to hate

I like dramatic titles.

I had a bad night last night.

This week is a drag and positive at the same time, but last night was just rotten.  I try to do my best to reframe stuff like this.  I think it always comes down to the same place every time though.  It comes down to a strong dislike of self, and a learned helplessness about it.  That’s not what I’m trying to talk about though.

I’m not sure who or what I’m talking to or about.

I’m so easy to knock over.  Some “disaster” comes up, and then life isn’t worth living.  Bing.  Bang.  Boom.  But then, I start to see a pattern, and I realize that this is all something that someone else has experienced (this sounds familiar, right?  Like Pauline familiar).

This brings comfort.  I’m not “alone” per se in a great, cosmic sense.  This is irrelevant for the most part, but there is a grain of comfort.  I feel lost.  I feel anxious.  I feel depressed and alone.  These are things that people (more than just me) experience.

So there are problems.  They are upsetting.  They seem to stay upsetting.
There are goals.  They seem so dreamy.  They seem to stay upsetting, too, though.

Let’s go try something different.  Let’s try to have some fun.  Let’s burn the bridges and the witches and all the garbage I’ve picked up in the past few years.

St. John!  Here I come!

In one of those moods

…which I suppose is a positive thing.

I’ve been gearing myself up for the past few days for the eventual turning in the tides.  Today (as a nice little recap), I fixed an air vent, bought a coatrack, repainted a picture with oils, and hung two guitar racks.

I’m thinking about the stuff I still need to do.

But soon (maybe within this week) I’ll start progressing into the next phase.  This is somewhat exciting.  I need to write some more music, and I need to bunker down and try to get some lyrics, too.

Let’s fall into the hole of aesthetics!  What is a life without a wasted early adulthood as an aesthete?

Can one be an aesthete with substance (or ethics)?

Let’s see!

Odd thing

I find it a bit ridiculous that I really do considering some items at times.

I suppose without a passionate, consistent undercurrent, reality has a tendency to be a bit on the unstable side.

It’s real, but I wonder if anything else is.

It’s weird when constructs and “real things” start to blur (especially when “real things” aren’t really manifest, per se).

Die die die die die.

A brief essay on sexuality before I take a class on it

I’ve signed up for a class on human sexuality in the J-Term over at the seminary.  This will satisfy one of my two elective credits.  I do look forward to taking it (along with facing some trepidation).  I figured I would paint some kind of vague picture for myself at my current state, seeing that I am up at 3:00am, and I don’t want to lie in bed and dwell on things.

I guess what I wanted to really “say” in some terms, is that (as of late), I’ve pretty much “given up.”  I don’t have an expectation to find a mate/lover/wife/etc.

This doesn’t really bother me.  I guess that’s the odd part.

In the past few months, there have been a few women who I have been attracted to, but any kind of effort put into pursuing them has seemed forced somehow.  Perhaps it’s the end result of learned helplessness or some kind of fatalism, but it always seems like the choice I have to make it “try to get attention” or “go on and resign and skip the frustration,” at which point I resign, feel bad for about a day and a half and then think “cool.”

I surmise that this is a temporary thing.  Things like this seem to come and go. Still, the more that I am focused on individual freedom and responsibility in the eyes of God, the more it’s easy to just say that it’s a waste of time.

Theoretically, I could do something with my life.  This something can be augmented or diminished by relationship choices.  I know that spending time trying to convince someone to reciprocate elaborate dreams is a defeating process.  If one does not “fall for” me, I have zero interest in forming dialectics to convince them otherwise.

I think about two examples in the past few weeks where I reacted to situations where (at one point) I would have been invested to the point where the reactions I got would be devastating.  Still, now, I don’t think I care.

I’m still suspicious of myself.  This may be a clever ploy.

Still, I’m not worried.

It’s always been a dream of mine to be without such desires.  While the desire for companionship still burns (and this, I believe will never go away), the sexual aspect has faded (though not disappeared [yet]).

Self discovery with a mirror and a flashlight

That wasn’t supposed to have an off-beat tone (more silly) but I’m afraid it will be taken that way.

My revelation for the morning is that I am often depressed in the morning.

Also, 41% of people of facebook accept friend invites blindly.

NEARLY HALF (actually, more like 2/5ths).

I’m so over-the-board.  I could be 40 different things.  The one thing that feels like it’s constant is the lack of focus I tend to have and the poor habits I keep (mostly due to sleeping and eating).

I did play guitar like an angry bear last night for hours as I tried to get a BIG to_ song down.

I’m starting a second blog.

Different freedoms

Let us have a discourse on freedom!  Let us write like Galileo, or McClaren and write in dialogue!  Let us use postmodern words like “dialogue” and “conversation” to try to cover up the fact that we still use the same kind of modernest approach to language (master-slave relationship between me and my “listener”)!

I’ve been disappointed myself as of late.  There are plenty of problems I have going on at any given point, and these give me the justification I need to tear myself down.  There is always internal conflict of some kind.  I’m constantly being torn between actions, feelings and thoughts.  This confusing (generally speaking) is enough to make me doubt myself to the point where I cannot be happy.

I am a very melancholy person.  You probably already knew that.

So, there are times where I have the option to do one of many things.  I have freedom and choices.  These are all contextual, as no one has a kind of “absolute freedom,” as one cannot will certain things to magically happen, but we all are free inasmuch as there is no constrictive, over-arching governance of humanity that is inflexible or unbreakable.  No law has been written that I cannot break.  No norm is established that I cannot violate.  No mores are so sacred that I cannot disregard them.

I have freedom to do as I wish to do.  No one had to die for that freedom, as it is present in the dregs of the highest persecution.

So I guess the next logical step is to tell the reason why I bring this up in the first place.

I got a hair cut.  There were a lot of reasons why I did this (and I didn’t like it after I did get it cut, still don’t), but I did it with one specific reason in mind.  This is a secret, and I won’t say, but I chose to do it.

So, now, after a few weeks of reflection, I realize the silliness of it all.  I realized another substantial thing as well, which I’ve come to grips with before, but it seemed to lack salience.

I get depressed.  I mean, I get depressed.  I have enough psychology and CBT in me to know the depression and all the distorted thoughts I have that come along with it.  It can turn on at a moment’s notice (which I am just now really trying to figure out my triggers) and it can go away just as fast.

Boom!  Depressed!

Boom!  Better.

So, I’m free and I’m depressed and I cut my hair (which made me depressed).

But here’s the tension, I suppose.  The depression is a constant.  Though it comes and goes, I know it will always be back.  It’s inevitable.  So when I get down when I am alone and feel like animal feces, I am depressed.  When I am with someone (and all the bubbly feelings of initial romance have died down), I will fee like animal feces, and I am depressed.

You see, I’ve just deconstructed life to the point where “I know I’m going to be depressed anyway, so what’s the point?”  The irony comes with the context of point.  I’m not depressed right now!

A-ha!(?)

When I read Kierkegaard, I always seem to end up reading a blurb about his life and death.  Right before he died, he expressed regret on not getting married to Regine, and not going for a priest position.  Instead, he died alone and scorned in the public eye.

To put more context to this, in Fear and Trembling he talks about the three modes of being (one of aesthetics, one of ethics and one of faith).  The person living life by faith will see something that is impossible, but instead of stopping at the resignation of the impossible, he has faith that (perhaps) such impossible things could happen if God were to intervene.  Kierkegaard said that if he had more faith, he would have stayed with Regine (that is, it wasn’t an action of faith that he moved away from her, but that it was the lack of faith).

And boom!  Lost my train of thought!

Nearly done.

I think I had a manifesto brewing, but it leaked out in preparation.

I wrote a bit about Kierkegaard’s despair for a paper.

I’m made of wax.

I think I finally understand about 60% of Kierkegaard’s concept of self.

Ahahahahah

They look at my eyes.
In haughty delight they observe.
Implicit preference: galleried.
Explicit preference: paradoxically hidden away.

Squatting bull.
Running fast into an open mouth
Blender blades swirl before each thudding step.
Headlong, godspeed good man!

Still, look they do.
Look at this!
Under the table, my eyes are the hidden jews!
The top part of my exoskeletal frame is mountian-top
Danger… the goats are starving.

My absence is alluring.
Not to you, but your construct
Feign aloofness for seconds more
While I feign fragility a bit longer.

Waxman walks in the sun

I can’t start.  When I start, I can’t idle.

This makes life seem impossible.