Friday, February 24, 2006

No Atheists in the Face of Exams

First. Tonight am shookup sodapop, such so that my stomach feels ruptured. I am Renewed Faith in my future and the house I will buy and the garden I will grow and tend to with great care, I know how ambient will be my office, a tiny safe place in the world from where great schemes hatch...
...I know all this because it was given back to me in red pen on the top of my midterm exam, the great faith that with this score comes the confidence to pass the Qualifying Exam, comes the future I work so hard for, comes the dreams I dream that, of late, are tarnished and neglected.


Second. For days I am consumed with language and communication, concrete and abstract... But if you have read my blog you know this obsession is my constant companion. For days I have been writing my magnum opus on the subject, four passionate pages of amateur linguistics which I cannot direct but am compelled to express.


Third. Jenny, my shopping list. Without wallet, without list, little bit'a cashinhand and too self conscious to buy soy milk or tofu or those hippy sprout crackers in the bulk aisle because I don't want you to think that I am a nerd... but what your particular criteria are for nerdyness I do not know. I guess I just sorta intuited. Anyway...

(does it matter if it is organic or not?)


Rainbow Chard
Hot Pickled Cauliflower
Canned Hearts of Palm
Raspberry Soy Yogurt
Lemon Soy Yogurt
Baby Carrots
1 4lb Green Papaya
1 Cucumber
1 Lemon
2 Vine Tomatoes
3 Purple Yams
2 Jalapeno Peppers
2 Flower-shaped Cookies

I submit to your powers of divination and postsentiment.

Saturday, February 18, 2006

Food Groups



I have eaten so much sugar in the 24 hours before 12 hours ago that my heart has kinda lurched around hurling against my ribs. Really, like a years worth of sugar, I swear.



I have take up a new sport which is... growing my own sprouts. Maybe they will help me detoxify. I eat them by the fistful and imagine I am a vicious grazing animal tearing savagely into my living prey.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

With Regards

I just got done with a mid-term interpreting a text about the geography of South America, its influence on cultural development, and racial and ethnic distribution.

I repeatedly referred to ANCESTRY as PASSED-FROM-GENERATION-TO-GENERATION which is one sign and also means, but not quite means TRADITION and does not mean exactly ANCESTRY but otherwise was not terribly skewing of the speakers intent.

I think it depends to what degree I am expected to know better. (the answer is GREAT... to a great degree)



SIGH. I am weary I say.

Am now in the languages lab next door which is 30 computers, four people surfing the internet and a, a...
a) brotherhood
b) clique
c) tribe
d) loose confederate
e) society
f) cabal
e) ?
...of gamers who are here all the time, who live shamelessly in the world of fantasy and who, for lack of single female elfin druids on campus are unlikely to get sexed.



I NEED TO LOG IN TO SEE IF MY LEVEL 5 SHAMAN ORC IS RESTED.

THE FORSAKEN WANT TO MAKE EVERYBODY UNDEAD, THAT'S THEIR GOAL, AND THEY TELL THE ORCS AND STUFF THAT THEY WANT TO BE CURED BUT THE TROLLS KNOW BY NOW, SERIOUSLY...

THE THING IS, THE ALLIANCE WONT SIDE WITH THE ELVES.

----------------------

Sam: Regarding To what I strive

too cryptic!
spaceoctopus
2006-02-12 02:40 am UTC

That first sentence is a doozy. Do you mean:

--that you wasted years of your life trying to uncover the origins of suffering?


I mean I have never had faith that there is a relationship between work and reward, that success is fundamentally a matter of random and possibly cruel luck. Therefore I have never been successful at anything except by random luck or by working faithlessly and without hope.

Concretely, if I want to run fast I should train by running fast. Will I be successful? If I study hard will I graduate and make enough money to live comfortably, pay my debts, sleep at night? If I eat whole foods are my cells actually going to be happy and generative?

I am starting to suspect it is so.

--That you have wasted years of your life attempting to improve your life (time thus wasted b/c suffering is mysterious and will come out of nowhere to fuck you up)?

Because I have felt philosophically incapable of mounting an attack on life, there are bombs and busses just waiting to run you over and fuck you up. Or worse yet, just nothing at all becoming the same day into the next same day forever.

--What's the disturbance between means and ends?

The willingness to put yourself through trials is based on the causality of reward. I have had incredible difficulty establishing the validity of causal relationships.

--have you been hanging out with psychoanalysts?

Heck NO, I haven't been hanging out with anybody... mulling over my chimeric faithlessness and dualism and getting older, again. But I miss the hell out of you and have wandered from my path. Take me to the Ferris wheel. It is cold and clear. I will bring a jacket and not complain.

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Valentines Love Poems by Richard Brautigan

Please
Do you think of me
as often
as I think
of you?


Gee, You're So Beautiful That It's Starting To Rain
Oh, Marcia,
I want your long blonde beauty
to be taught in high school,
so kids will learn that God
lives like music in the skin
and sounds like a sunshine harpsicord.
I want high school report cards
to look like this:

Playing with Gentle Glass Things

A

Computer Magic
A

Writing Letters to Those You Love
A

Finding out about Fish
A

Marcia's Long Blonde Beauty
A+!


30 Cents, Two Transfers, Love
Thinking hard about you
I got on the bus
and paid 30 cents car fare
and asked the driver for two transfers
before discovering
that I was
alone


Love Poem
It's so nice
to wake up in the morning
all alone
and not have to tell somebody
you love them
when you don't love them
any more.


Romeo and Juliet
If you will die for me,
I will die for you
and our graves will be like two lovers washing
their clothes together
in a laundromat
If you will bring the soap
I will bring the bleach.

- Richard Brautigan

Friday, February 10, 2006

To what I strive

Because I fundamentally and unfortunately believe that the origins of suffering are mysterious and therefore conventional efforts for improving ones life guarantee nothing, I have wasted years of my life. I did not discover this wholly, in one detailed narrative piece until today. And am knowing for years yet not quite knowing that there was a disturbance in my function between means and ends. I am an existentialist and a deconstructionist habituated nearly 32 years and the excavation of my nihilism is laborious.

And now, to tire you endlessly, I run with great fucking passion again, solemnly undertake the miles under clear sky like a pilgrim, knowing for one fucking second that all is as it should be and that life is sublime... that the moment of contention is worth a month of anguish. For one fucking moment all is right.

Life is all about that moment. It is in sex and death, dreaming and running.

Motion and motion In Motion

Seems we've a reprieve from the recent rains, so heavy and oppressive. Tuesday morning I ran out-of-doors for only the second time since early January. Am gym going, but not road going. I had great need to physically outrun my fuzzygray, papery patina, sunkensad ennui.

I have a start/finish line from which all my various fromhome runs are measured, whatever direction. The white rock, I start there. If I ran down the hill to the west, south, east, north? 8.4 miles. Each route is tickered and mapped.


perpetual motion

This first day back running, before I went running I lurked. I skirted, shirked and shied. Finally I went to run, started like an assault and quickly surged into my body, my forward motion. Quickly felt like nothing mattered, felt like you mean it was just a dream?... felt I had never known great need and I had never felt great weakness. I finished my 5 miles sub-8:00/mile.

I was so elated I wrote a little song during my cooldown walk home.

I AM SO AWESOME
I AM SO AWESOME
I AM SO AWESOME
I AM SO AWESOME


*dance moves*
verse 2
REPEAT VERSE ONE

*dance moves*
verse 3
REPEAT VERSE TWO

This pace would qualify me for the Boston Marathon, is the equivalant of a 7.6 for 5 miles on the treadmill, and is only 2:42/mile behind the current women's World Record Holder for the Marathon:
2:15:25 Radcliffe, Paula GBR London 1 4/13/03


cold fusion

I am miles&miles (and MILES) from glory but am contextually GRAND and can probably outrun all my favorite rock stars which makes me rocking starrier by default.

-----------------

If I could tell you how it felt would you come run? If I said I felt like the first day of spring is that rebirthing, sheddingawful enough? If I said you will be perpetual motion, cold fusion, and astral projection, all like a flying dream would you come run with me?

Thursday, February 02, 2006

Ouroboros




For practical reasons this is not a convenient pose to strike. Again today's problems are cyclically tomorrows problems, intimately. What I don't get done today is less I will get done tomorrow. Each day a reluctant birth and a reluctant death, each new life a half aware struggle to resolve the thematic struggle that threads one day to the next. I greatly look forward to forward motion... Oh the dreams I dream.





Today I feel like I am swallowing my own tail, feel wholly human and neither mystical or symbolic. Rather simply problematic... no matter how far back into antiquity my struggle resonates. I am regrouping for now. Silently, withdrawnly, two-handedly, staying the social face with my right and mending my armor with my left, the more skillful and dexterous of my hands.





You have no idea how annoyed I am with dualism, harmony in opposites myass.

I only have ten fingers

To not be misleading, I didn't do the figuring myself, I used the birthday calculator.

I am really bad at tracking the decimal point and carrying the ones. Numbers generally seem to slip in and out of their assigned values when I try to math them.

Go get yourself monthed, dayed and seconded, even dog-yeared out. Its fun.

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