Empty Days

Saturday, June 04, 2005



I am trying to pack... But there are people calling for cat/sublet and in any case it's too hot and I feel lazy, and packing is too time-consumming: too much of the stuff doesn't get in, I need to think what to leave and what to take with me, boring shit. And I will likely forget something important and then regret it for three months in a row. Rather not pack at all or do it in earnest.

What a beautiful day. Nothing is important on such a day.

Friday, June 03, 2005



Shifting sands.

Every day something changes. Small unavoidable steps towards departure. Yet I still keep waking up with a huge pang of anxiety ripping through my body - I still don't know what it is. It's clearly some sort of fear I have. I've been waking up very early, between 5-6am, all this time because of this full-body anxiety. It leaves me alone during the day and when my mind is busy with something, but it never fails to gather again while I am sleeping. Can't get more subconscious than that, I say.

*

This is why a sense of security is so important to most people - because it prevents this kind of pretty much physical suffering. Psychological and mental suffering is in fact a form of physical torture because it is felt in the whole body rather than simply "in thoughts" - except that it is effected from the inside of one's own body instead of from outside. Admittedly it's not as bloody and violent. However, when it's strong enough and has been going on for a while, you can very well get a heart attack from it or develop cancer or be otherwise somatically damaged in a bad way.

Emotions and unconscious thoughts are very physical. It is "rational thoughts" that are not. Curiously enough however: the less physical an inner phenomenon, the less real importance it carries for one's psyche. By which I obviously mean that all those aetherial "rational thoughts" are really of very little value - whilst we necessarily imagine it to be otherwise.

This permanent delusion is at the heart of our culture and cannot be uprooted.

Monday, May 30, 2005



My conflicting feelings regarding this trip to Russia - after such a long absence and oblivion - most likely come from a strong sense that I will inevitably experience a very close encounter with my former life and former self - and I am deathly afraid of it.




Family feuds.

Again! - a huge huge quarrel at my parents' - this time with my father jumping at my throat from overhearing something I was discussing with my mom after viewing old photographs of my father's family - then I turning back on him in a highly uncharacteristic scathing tone - even my usually mild subdued voice changed to a high-priestess pitch of utter contempt and anger (to my own surprise) - all in all I completely put him down this time which is a rare achievement as my father is one of the biggest and shrilliest bigots on the planet.

I've been quarrelling with my father all year long pretty much despite myself - it just keeps happening for no reason at all almost every time I go there. I think I am really fed up with some of his attitudes and it's just time I put him in his place once and for all. Otherwise I don't know what's going on. But it does look very much like some sort of underground power-struggle in the family that is happening despite everyone's reason or rational desire.

Tectonic plaques are moving.

*

And btw - my brother categorically refused to move to my flat and said I can keep the cheque. Reason given: after having seen my flat several times he now hates it almost as much as he hates my cat. But the real reason is: he suddenly decided he can very well live in the same place as my father and ignore him completely without my mother to serve as a buffer-zone between these two- so there is no more need to move.

This leaves me with the very bad and awful prospect of leaving my cat utterly alone for 3 MONTHS - with both my father and brother going there once a day to feed him and change litter... The cat will go crazy from loneliness, there is just no question about that. So now I am frantically looking for somebody to fill the void and take the flat for a fraction of a price but to keep company to the cat... I leave in a WEEK - I will never have time to find anyone unless I am exceptionally lucky.

My father said he might have to move to my place in the end to spare the cat. Which comes down to my brother effectively pushing my father out of the family flat - it's like a psychological chess-combination in a way, a sly move, pretty ugly and ruthless in the end.

All this is so NOT a new scenario...

*

Oh, and I should mention my mother who often cries from witnessing all this going on - but she's a bitch too in her own way. Even though it's a great sin to so talk of one's genetrix... But I'll take the blame and there is still some clear thruth in this sin.

I love my family folk - I also hate them in a way - and I forgive, myself included.

Sunday, May 29, 2005



Nietzsche was absolutely right about good digestion - it does make a huge difference in the tenor of one's philosophy :-/

I feel like my cat - he loves to run around like crazy after a satisfying visit to the bathroom.




It is possible that the struggle for personal maturity is in fact a struggle for a sense of dignity. I have little and don't know how to convince myself of trying for more.




The end of times - mine simply.

Summer is finally here - it seems. The early ride to the clinic for that very last blood sample was really very pleasant: I passed through lush green neighbourhoods of rich people with their wonderful blossoming gardens and flower-beds. I suppose one can buy oneself a pretty cushy existence even in this rabid urban world - if only one knows how to earn lots and lots of cash (which, to my mind, takes out all the sense from such an achievement).

*

My brother sent me a panicked e-mail, saying he doesn't want to sublet my flat anymore. This has already happened several time so that I finally requested that he writes me a cheque for 3-month rent - which he did. So I guess it's too late for worries. Or rather it shows how extremely infantile he still is, especially when confronted with family relations.

On the other hand, I pretty much knew it would be like that and should have looked for an independent subleter despite my mother pushing for this whole arrangement: she always defends my brother even though it clearly goes against the very evidence of his behavior. But I gave in and thought it would be easier that way - so it's my fault too in a sense, that I let myself be persuaded and tempted by something so flimsy and unreliable.

I've always had a bit of a hard time giving any consideration to my bro - perhaps because I am not very affectionate or maternal or because he simply does not command respect in any way. I think he believes I always try to put him down intellectually - and if this is true, then I am doing it unconsciously - or maybe it's just the way forces have been arranged in our family and nothing can unlodge me or any of us in relation to each other from the mythical places we came to occupy in the family quadrangle.

*

Since my suicidal crisis last spring and especially after my bike-trip came to such an end of shocking desillusionment, it is as if I've lost all bearings in my own self - I don't know where to turn anymore and the world does feel like a such an utterly small and hopeless place - this is to the measure of how much my soul has shrinken. As a result I've been spending increasingly more time with my family, simply because I have nowhere else to turn anymore inside myself.

The emptiness has gained still more ground. What will it be later on...





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