26: Love Affair

Every time I think I want a boyfriend, something happens where I realize I don't. I want to grow. I want to learn metaphysics and poetry and even more music. I want to know everything. Who would understand that? I start talking (what they understand as nonsense) and I realize that no one understands me. But maybe that's how I want it.

I'm going to do it. I'm going to try to read the whole coursepack for my Philosophy class by the end of winter break. Then I'm going to read Plato's book on love. Or maybe vice versa. I'll start with that. Metaphysics is far easier than poetry.

Only once today, but it was much better. I said I was going to study.

Now I actually do need to study.

Hooray, it's Christmas. Only a week and a half until I see you again, San Francisco.

25: Talk To Strangers

Finally moving on. Some people are just assholes, and that's just the way the fucking world is sometimes. I'll get over it.

My God, I cannot WAIT for Christmas. San Francisco at Christmastime is my favorite thing in the world. If I can't be happy, the next best thing is the joy in the world surrounding me, and the hope that it will sink into my skin.

Twice today. It used to be about once a week. It started when I was sick from drinking too much, and then I would do it even when I didn't drink too much, and then I got to doing it when I was sober. I'm still not very good at it, but I'm getting better.

I'm kind of thinking that my house is about to be blown away by the wind right now...shit...
It's never been this windy here before that I can remember.

Where the hell am I headed?

*Talk To Strangers by Saul Williams

24: Acknowledgement

sits with you

my body is contained between my boots and my hat
but my mind floats
among the juniper trees and also
down the street and in
Kingston and Rome too.

.

the tall man on his way home from work,
his,
it is suffocating in his brain.

maybe yours is, but will you come see me?

.

i am a singer of those lost words.
you know, like
the way your heart is five minutes
after he left for good.
i came to see you.

.

my mind sits with you old man,
on the park bench feeding the ducks.
and also with you, little girl,
in the sandpit on the swings.

.

i see that the sky is chardonnay
and fluid time is all that is real
so you and i, we’ll drink up the stars.

you are held in reality,
but i live in what’s real.

23: Relax

***

automatic

this is an automatic position
scary, because, who am I now?
my eyes are blurry, and I see
something is wrong
just this moment, I was
just plugging in my laptop
behind my bed
who am i?
they are so loud
in the next room
god my throat stings;
my eyes watery
“what if she can’t see?”*
this shall be for myself
and I will love myself
immersed in this feature
because myself otherwise
is only a disappointment
and myself, without that
inner soil is Platonized**
and what I wish for.
I am still learning.

*what alli just said

**in this case, the idea that all that is solid and "material" is not real; that the things like nourishment and sex is what is needed by the body; Plato (or Socrates {see the Phaedo}) concluded that these are not real, and therefore did not matter in the metaphysical pilgrimage towards contentment.

***Title track: Relax by J*Davey; the bonus track on the Marco Polo disc.

God I cannot wait to be drowning in that cultural richness of San Francisco.

22: Clumsy

Why are we constantly trying to make sure that other people know that we are happy, even if we are not? What makes us trust someone so blindly, and more importantly, what insecure factor makes people seek and be sure that they have that trust? How much of a doucebag are you?

God, just because you looked at me right, I was stupid. I didn't listen to the warnings; I thought you had changed. I completely trusted you. I was a fucking moron. More importantly though, I am going somewhere. You're not. I am in school, and I have a plan, and when I'm not in school, I make more money in a week than you do in a year. It sucks for you. You sit around polluting your lungs and your good sense in the heavy pursuit of being a asshole to everyone who is nice to you who doesn't have a vagina. God I hope you're happy now. In a week or so, I'm gonna laugh my ass off about this and you, especially because you're sleeping with some girl who is probably letting you commit sodomy, and I'll thank my God for blessing me with enough sense to stay away from that. I'll also thank Him for not letting me get pregnant with your idiot polluted sperm.

I knew we were wrong from the start, really. You said you "loved music". HA. Reggae is a little bitty subgenre, and country (which I've never heard you listen to) is so shitty and simple that it has to have its own channel because most educated music listeners don't want to hear it. You love music. I'm laughing. Loving music is about LOVING MUSIC; not loving reggae and other random things. You're not even educated musically. It doesn't matter if your Dad's a drummer if you don't benefit from what he knows. If you're gonna play reggae, learn how it started, dumbass.

Also, Rastifarianism is not a culture, nor a state of mind. It's a RELIGION. Don't offend anyone else with your ignorance.

I'm sorry that in 10 years, you'll be poor, drunk, and lacking money so much that you can't afford your materialistic shit that doesn't even matter, and I'll be successful and even more enlightened than I am now. But hey, at least enjoy your own physical pollution of your self, and I wish you the best that you'll ever attain, which I'm sorry to tell you, is not much. :)

21: In The Beginning

It is better to light a candle than to curse the dark.*

I agree with Descartes concept, but if I were to start over and rebuild my own philosophical principles, I wouldn't know where to start. Is the basis of philosophy the body-soul relationship (the individual) or the relationship of life to the afterlife and God (the social)? Or is it neither? Or both?

If it is the individual, the first thing to understand would need to be whether the soul and body are separate entities, comparable a bassline and the melody in a song, existing simultaneously in one work. The body must last as long as or not as long as the soul, since my soul has been with me as long as i have been alive and will be with me at least until i die. At least this is a start...

As for the social, the concept of God and whether our existence is an aspect of His work, or whether or not he even exists (though i feel that this question is against what i do feel) is not yet applicable; I don't know enough to argue.

K'naan, "In The Beginning" from the album The Dusty Foot Philosopher.

20: Drivin' Me Wild

People surprise me.

title: blue air (for right now)
draft on nov. 4th, 2007:

staves intertwine and
we sound like the hippocrene
you grasp my hand and
my soul lets go and
i am avant-garde
the cold air sublimates
my being and i make to
spread the my atoms of
my body among those
of this flushing wind and
blue air and just
as i combust,
that centrifugal weight
brings me back
but you look at me
and i've lost myself again.

november 4th, 2007