Empty Days

Tuesday, July 13, 2004



Human bytes vs wilderness.

I think if I were living in a shack in the woods I would take again to writing notes-for-myself on paper, scraps of paper, journals - just getting a hold of my mental life. I don't believe I'd be able to stop thinking altogether - to stop talking to myself in my mind. It's a huge way of entertainment with me.

Currently I live in a city flat with a telephone connection and free internet (leeching on AOL). I write my thoughts to the blog. I know that the internet connection, the blog, and my thoughts will disappear eventually - soon even.

I do all this as a form of self-entertainment. As such it has no lasting value - which is why I do not care about the whole thing disappearing soon. This is also the attitude I have about my life as a whole - I don't care that I will disappear eventually, soon even.

Question: would I feel differently about my thoughts and my life if I were living in a shack in the woods as opposed to living in a city flat on welfare but with an internet connection?

***

Two years ago a received a postcard from a high-school friend whom I hadn't seen in 10 years - she wrote she found my address in the phonebook and that she lived in a rural house with no telephone and no internet.

I didn't respond because I was in a deep hole at that time and I certainly didn't feel like renewing lost ties then. You bet. But I liked the idea of somebody living like that, somewhere.

I still think maybe I should contact that girl, but on the other hand I think I know why she wrote and the basis of it is wrong - she used to look up to me in high school, it was some intellectual admiration she had, and I know for sure that I have nothing to offer and never did, but it's just the sort of illusions that people cling to. I hope to god she's not a single mother or something. Either way I wouldn't fit into her picture. In fact, I rather not fit in any picture at all.

I lost faith in people - in myself - so thoroughly I can't even envision why I would need old or new human ties. Whenever I try to imagine friendship I hit the wall - I can't see why and what.

I still attempt to imagine human things because I wasn't like that before - it's a sort of memory exercise. I exercise my emotional memory. But the present state is too different. Those old feelings don't fit.

Fucking shit.





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