Empty Days

Monday, September 20, 2004



Michel Montaigne in the attic.

This chatting business has sure taken me into one of those "other" dimensions where no man has gone before - in the sense that no man ever goes there of his own accord. The problem of extensive socializing is that it takes you away from yourself for an indefinite length of time and you basically never know where you are at any given moment while so occupied.

For one thing though it temporarily delivered me from the awful landscape I am necessarily exposed to by my still living in this goddam spot of space here. The city is vast - yet to me it is no vaster than this godawful place I've chained myself to in my own inert mind. I wish I could see some perspective here - instead all I see is that I can't move.

*

Yesterday was a particularly chilly night at 2C and probably worse at the ground level. I wondered how I would fare on such a night in the open. Probably not so good - perhaps running aroud in circles trying to work up some heat.

*

The bike is still on the kitchen table, like some sort of derelict idol, and I am still stuck in front of the computer screen. Bad lame habits develop much faster and stay longer than good active habits. I wonder why that is. My half-dead nature must be longing for a point of no-return and no-movement. I don't believe that's called balance - I believe it's called inertia.

*

How about doing some laundry? I tried - in the end I forgot the load in the dryer downstairs, somebody took it out half-done while I was away, the whole thing got all packed and wrinkled, I believe I would have to redo it all once more. And that was only "colors" - whites are still waiting their turn.

Laundry forecast: uncertain.

*

In the same vein it took me an incredible effort of organization and coordination to just cook meatballs. As anyone out there knows meatballs are the easiest food to cook - all it takes is a pot of boiling water, some chopped onions and running hot water to warm your hands while you're rolling those fucking meatballs. However the difficulty consists in not forgetting the meat in the fridge after you've brought it home from the grocery store - it might go bad. Knowing my current lack of time-sense I stuffed the meat pack into the freezer and when finally the moment came of no-food-to-eat I took it out in the hope of cooking the whole thing on the spot. Unfortunately it turned out the meat has frozen stiff and after a whole day out on the table it didn't seem any more malleable. So I put it back in the fridge and had to go through the same critical stage of not leaving it there too long.
In the end I am not sure how I was even able to coordinate and organize enough to effect the making of those meatballs that I just finished eating btw.
What I am saying is that I need to cook some more food again - I am uncertain as to how it will go this time - I am still in this awful ineffective forgetful state and all these basic elementary things seem like a complicated improbable chore.

Incredible dissipation - I don't understand how it is I am not an alcoholic yet.

*

Yesterday, in one of those strange moments of synchronicity, I turned on the tv and happened direct on that film called "My own private Idaho" - just after having talked of it in a chat. I can never explain such moments - it doesn't make sense that when you think of something it's suddenly delivered to you presto-subito from the supposed chaos of the surrounding world. How is that a chaos then?

Of course the easy argument is that it might not have resonated. Alright - but it did. And it does. And sometimes it resonates more than other times.
What is luck?
I don't know - but it's out there and it works together with your mind.

My conclusion is that life - one's own and of the world - is neither mechanical nor rational nor theoretical. It's rather somewhat organic - where improbable situations abound and are interwoven into some growing whole that doesn't really work according to any known laws. I don't know how this translates in physics but it might just very well be that it doesn't - physics and sciences being a theory all through and thus fairly mechanical in principle.
Yes, you will build a space rocket and explore stars - but you won't know how it is the rocket exploded having collided with some unaccounted minor rock - the accidental entangled nature of evolving reality is not mechanical nor is it predictable.

*

When I am unable to be driven and certain of my direction I like to draw runes. The best internet site I found is in Russian - it has some jungian ideas and though there is some esoteric bullshit involved it still gives a pretty interesting insight into how things are going at any particular stage. I tried to do it with tarot sites but they're a bit too vague and are too focused on prediction - while it's obvious that no prediction is possible if you yourself don't understand the first thing about your own life.
All you can do is interpret - and even that requires taking a stand.

I use it as some sort of meteorological station - it gives me an idea of my mental temperature and emotional state. That's all it does - I get no specific inspiration from it, or hope for the future or certainty. Otherwise the only remaining barometer is how the environment and people react to me at any given time - but that's tricky because then I affect the world too much and it affects me in return, and I get confused.

In any case I am mostly confused these days.

*

There is no question however that with me the desire to communicate is basically driven by a certain sexual energy that tries to find a way out into the open, affording dissipation. I strongly suspect that this is in general the principle of human desire to communicate - even when it's expressed as mostly intellectual activity or what not. What we call love - love of life and of people - is actually that love.

Please don't listen to christians - they lie to themselves a great deal but that's basically because they're always trying to escape the obvious. They're also the ones who discover the true meaning of things by falling into their own mental traps - and then they say it was a mistake and a sin :-0

Unfortunately we're all a bit too christian for our own good in that sense.

*

Once again: on my dying bed I will say my life has been lived in vain - and how greatful I am that I never uderstood.

*

Another film after Idaho was Woody Allen's "Love and War" - slapstick hilarious stuff, nothing very special there but I like Woody bein a silly sex-obsessed fuck. All his films are in the end centered around that one and only theme - how people fool themselves with their head-stuff. He's a sexual humanist - he declares that love rules the world.

Too down-to-earth perhaps? Perhaps not. I think he's right - mostly.

*

With these hilarious statements I am slowly getting back to myself from the chatting fields of wheat (cf. Woody). I've approached strangers on the internet and I made them open up and talk to me. I've been approached by strangers and made them welcome and at ease. Others I've scolded and told them to fuck off. Isn't that how social life is in general? Right.

*

May the gods take pity on me and let me see the light - by which I simply mean: let me do what I seem willing to do.





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