Right now, I live for red, ripe tomatoes from my garden. Unfortunately the plant has developed some kind of fungus and the window for red, ripe tomatoes is diminishing. Now, is not the time for free association. I guard my secrets from you. I long for a couch and perhaps a mirror from an honest observer. I do not like to hear the sound of my own voice.
Eliminate chatter, face death, live life authentically. That is what Heidegger would say. I desperately await Byung-Chul Han's new book:
"Untrammelled neoliberalism and the inexorable force of production have produced a 21st century crisis of community: a narcissistic cult of authenticity and mass turning-inward are among the pathologies engendered by it. We are individuals afloat in an atomised society, where the loss of the symbolic structures inherent in ritual behaviour has led to overdependence on the contingent to steer identity."
That is me!
Unfortunately it doesn't come out until October.
So, I have to piece myself together until then...
I've been reading some Schopenhauer looking for a cure. His daily routine was legendary. 27 years he did the same thing everyday unless he had visitors. Wake at 7 with a bath. Strong coffee. Write until noon. Practice the flute for 30 min. Take lunch. Read until 4. Walk until 6 NO MATTER WHAT. Read the news. Go out to a concert or theatre. Take dinner. Go to sleep.
I have to find "my way" though. Although it's not a bad way to survive in quarantine.
What is a fear right now? That if I try to go to sleep I will just lie there for hours. That is a cruel joke that existence plays. Where are my friends? I still have some. I received a nice text from one today. They are still in existence.
I just wanna like ride a bike through Provence. Eat some potatoes. Lie in a field of lavender.
Climb a mountain. Meditate on top of the mountain. Eat some rice and lentils.
Hike through an enchanted forest. Bathe in the beauty. Eat some gallo pinto.
Like, I don't think I want to be here now. I'd rather be sleeping. I'm trying to hold on though.
This idea that something can save me from existence is misguided. No book or psychological study or walk in nature is going to save me from existence. It is always there. Except for when I am sleeping soundly. Perhaps I should relish my existence. Death is coming for us all after all. Old age, sickness, impotency is my future. Death is my future. The path is headed downwards.
It is difficult not to be narcissistic and inward-looking during quarantine. This is my life. I am stuck in this box. I get reprieve and fresh air and calm breeze for the time I am social distancing on a walk but that is about all.
It's a spark between two infinite bookends of nothingness. It does not feel like a spark. Today feels slow even painful. I do not mind an andante tempo but perhaps it takes some time to get acclimated to. It is certainly better than running around with my hair on fire. That spectre of boredom is always looming as well as the spectre of death. Can I escape the trenches of bare existence with these key strokes? Or should I lay in it? Stare out the window at trees? This is what most of existence is. Bare existence could be as daunting as the idea of death. Of Nothingness. Das Nichts. Perhaps because that is when we face it. Most of our concerns are trivial. A cover of fog. Sitting comfortably under the fog? The fact that we will die. The Golf Tournament on TV is not going to change this fact. Neither is the advertisement for Ace Hardware or Michelob Ultra. They tell us that grilling dead animal matter and drinking poison will make us happy. That that will be a good time. And maybe it will be. The last BBQ I went to I had a great time but I did not eat any animal products or consume poison...
Maybe this blog isn't as exciting without the trolls. Less "drama," less "intrigue." I don't really care. Discourse with trolls is not the way to spend ones' leisure.
I do miss The Other though. I am lonely and bored. I dream of The Other. In my real life there are only these walls. I can step outside to my garden but rarely venture outside of the gate. I am like a dog waiting for his joy ride and romp in nature. That is what I lie in waiting for. That and food but I am satiated for now.
It is yet another Sunday. Sometimes I think that I reflect too much. What is the plan? I don't have a plan.
I write so I do not kill myself. Insomnia consciousness can be harsh consciousness. I am tired. I need some rest. I need some reset time. I need some time away from consciousness.
Watching my cat play with his toy is fun. It brings a smile to my face.
Today was the last appointment likely ever with my last psychiatrist/therapist. It's kind of sad. I liked her. Now, I have to find a new one. Another 2nd year resident most likely. They just keep recycling them. That's ok. The residents that I've had have been really good. She suggested two people. I hope they have spots open. Everyone in their pictures are wearing like suits and the like and her #1 pick is wearing some chic, minimal coral henley. She also majored in Biology and Classics in undergrad. I like that. Wish me luck.
I am finally all applied at x and y. Z doesn't have a license to operate in my state. I probably should have applied to more places which might bite me in the ass but online programs there were only 3 that really interested me. My psychiatrist actually said going to a brick and mortar university experience would probably benefit me tremendously so maybe if I don't get in anywhere this time around I will rethink that a bit more. This is something that I have thought about for a while but I didn't put too much thought into it until recently. It was kind of like a "I've had enough of these shit jobs I am going to do this finally." A spur of the moment thing. A big shout out to PoorUser for giving me a hand. He calmed my despair at times and my Personal Statement and Diversity Statement would not have been as good without the help. I don't know if this is how I want to thank him buried in text in one of my inane blogs. Thanking people is always a bit of a curious case. I don't want to over thank but I don't want to under thank either. I appreciate the help. Cthulhu knows I need it.
Well, I don't want to kill myself, yet. That's good I suppose. I'm here. I might as well keep on keepin' on as they say. I'd probably want to do it by poison but then I have to research poisons and figure out how to procure it and take the right amount and then it's scary if I do die and it's scary if I don't die. I curse this consciousness a lot but for it to zap shut never to awaken again is a scary thought. I'm not so afraid of the decay and/or annihilation of the body I don't think. As I said burning on a bonfire or my ashes getting spread across my favorite forest is actually a nice thought. The scary part would be if I know it's coming and I can't turn back or turning back would mean severe disability. I went to the beach today and the waves were actually quite good. I never use to worry about crippling myself body surfing waves but a friend of a friend ended up paraplegic in a body surfing accident. On some of the big waves that thought crosses my mind. Like, here we go! It was fucking fantastic body surfing those waves today.
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FrinkX United States. Jun 30 2020 13:08. Posts 7561
go back to individual posts imo, too easy to miss
that person heims is a perma-penny-player, he's going to be really angry all the time. no reason to listen to him.
On June 30 2020 12:08 FrinkX wrote:
go back to individual posts imo, too easy to miss
that person heims is a perma-penny-player, he's going to be really angry all the time. no reason to listen to him.
I don't know what to do. hiems is clearly a sick person. I don't know if enough people read my blog for it to matter too much one way or the other. I don't know. I'll think about it.
Here is the thing about suicide for me. It only starts looking really appealing when I am depressed. When I am literally mentally ill. Or maybe when I am seeing the world at its most lucid. But I want to say that there is always some distortion in depression. Or not. I am clearly wrestling with that concept. I can feel like shit and not want to get out of bed and feel like I have no friends and the world is against me. That's typically a distortion. But when I am depressed it feels like I have no friends and technically I don't because I am not seeing them. And much of the world is against me. And to dwell in meaninglessness is actually a facet of bare existence.
Thank you though. In a way it is comforting that I can have access to the cleanest most efficient way of killing myself. It's also scary in that I just might do it if I'm depressed enough. Right now I have too much that I want to do. These things could be false hopes or just trivial things. I suppose it is all trivial at the end of the day. But I guess it comes down to the fact that I think about suicide a fair amount at times but the only times I'm serious is when I've been super depressed and when I am super depressed I am not really in a position to consider suicide. One thing to remember with depression is that it typically only lasts for so long. That kind of suffering is not permanent but suicide is.
Paul Reé used to wear a vial of poison around his neck. Actually, my sister and I have a running joke that if someone says something depressing or does something embarrassing we go and get a knife out of the cupboard and present the knife and ask "is the shame too great?" hahaha I forgot about that. We don't really do that one anymore. It could be because I've had a santoku knife to my gut in the past. I should bring that joke back though. The Japanese are fucking awesome. That is actually how I would want to die. A proper ceremony with a trusted #2. Someone there to alleviate my suffering ie behead me as soon as I stab my innards. I don't think I am particularly worthy of a ceremony of that magnitude. It is also not my culture. To actually go through with it and slash the innards and bleed out sounds like a very painful way to go.
Sleep. The great interlude to consciousness. I am grateful I ended up getting some sleep last night. I woke up grateful. I wanted to just lie there a little longer. To actually be refreshed and regenerated for a new day is fantastic.
How wonderful life is after a small breakfast, a regular bowel movement, and 2 cups of coffee. It's when that feeling turns sour that life gets complicated. That elusive feeling. No one likes to feel trapped, isolated, or bored. How do we smooth this thang out? How do we manage the highs and the lows? Marijuana? Yes but no. Not for me. I have to bare this bare existence in the face. The clock ticks, the hourglass empties, the sun goes down. I'm 36. How the hell did that happen? Soon I'll be 40 and beyond. I'm not sure if I have any original thoughts. That means I should go for a long solitary walk or read a book. The best thinking is done on the shitter (Nabokov) or on long walks (Nietzsche). There's no way I can sit and write this drivel for another hour before lunch.
If I ever get a place of my own I would like to grow a peach tree. A ripe picked peach in season is one of the most magical fruits that the earth has to offer. I think it slightly edges out ripe red tomatoes for me. Then there are mangoes, strawberries. I once had a fresh picked pineapple in Costa Rica that was out of this world.
My parents just came home and are constantly chattering. It's kind of ruining the flow for me. Time for a long walk on the beach.
As far as walks are concerned I think I prefer a long walk in the forest above all. Perhaps not everyday. The most rewarding is climbing a mountain. A beach walk July 4th week there are just too many people. Too many people to dodge, to many routes to plan out, too much sensory input. I kept thinking all these bodies, all these minds, remarkable. The joy on a child's face boogey boarding. I miss that. Where is that?
I wanted to come home and think some more but was interrupted by my dad being racist and ridiculous with a racist and ridiculous friend on the phone. It is absolute right wing, old obstinacy, inward-looking shit.
I was watching "Trigger Warning by Killer Mike" last night and thought it was pretty good even though it got kind of weird. One thing it triggered was my love for marijuana. The show heavily romanticizes marijuana and also strip clubs. The strip club was putting Hennessy on ice which is sooo not the correct thing to do. It has to be poured in a large glass for cognac and then warmed up in the hands. They also romanticized "how much you blow clouds." That is not the correct way to smoke weed. Anyways they were constantly smoking weed and showed some pictures of phat nuggz. Now, I am listening to "The Recipe" by Kendrick Lamar and Dr. Dre on the drive home from the beach thinking about lighting up a blunt. Although my favorite way to smoke was definitely Volcano. I remember one time at the Commerce we went up to a prolific weed smoker big shot MTTer's room and he had a fucking modified volcano bag. This thing was larger than a hefty bag. The illest chronic I may have ever smoked. I was so fucking high. I was typically designated fucked up driver so I had the honor that day as well. I was so fucking paranoid driving this big ass fucking black suburban. I started hallucinating the weed was so good. I was seeing like purple spots no joke. I've never driven these LA roads. I am paranoid as fuck. Not so high that I think I am going to die but so high that I am so fucking worried that I am going to crash and kill everyone. I have no idea how we got back to the spot. Which I probably promptly went right to the hot tub to light another blunt of phenomenal Cali weed. I was mixing that with overdoses of cough syrup. I am pretty sure I was a losing cash game player that month but I had a good score in the FTOPS Main which kept me in the positive.
I remember back in college when I was really hitting my weed smoking stride I had a buddy who didn't smoke as much he came up and decided to pass the joints around for a while. Two of my roommates were bigger potheads than me and helped show me the ropes. Anyways, I distinctly remember my buddy like amazed at how I smoked weed. He said I was the coolest weed smoker he had ever seen and wished he smoked weed like I did. I was like "uhhhh, ok?" but inside I felt validated and a part of. This guy was pretty "cool" himself. He ended up getting rich and marrying a model. Chrissy Tiegan, John Legend, and Kate Upton were at the wedding among others. I think the coolest way to smoke weed is to take monster hits and then hold it in for a second or two and then slowly exhale. Some smoke will inevitably, eventually come back out of the lungs but it shouldn't be clouds. You want the THC in your lungs, blood stream, brain not the air. You can even do an inhale for 4 seconds, hold for 4 seconds, exhale for 4 seconds. Do that 4 times. It's actually an exercise to reduce anxiety and with the added Chronic it will definitely reduce anxiety. But, I typically like to inhale for as long as I could and deeply as I could, hold it for as long as I could and exhale as slowly as I could. That's with a Volcano. Joints and blunts are better for just normal hits. Large gravity bongs will train you for any type of hit. We've had people pass out doing gravity bong hits. It was standard practice to have a spotter on hand. A large gravity bong you just fucking take it all and then there is relief in the exhale. It didn't help that we cut the good Amsterdam weed with hash and tobacco. I took a trip to Amsterdam just so I could smoke good weed. That's all we did there.
I remember the first time smoking good weed. It was White Widow out of Chicago. I loved that high.
Women, Weed, and Weather
The Recipe?
The recipe for what?
Probably a good time.
I don't know if I have any more thoughts. I don't think I need weed, women, or weather to have a good time. Marijuana is just a great drug that I miss. I miss women too. I've got weather. I do have to say all three together is a holy trinity.
So, it's been a few days. I haven't written offline at all. I just joined a handful of Reddit communities and have been posting there. Likely, the novelty will wear off. I realized I don't really have any great original thoughts that I want to write about. One good thing is I have been reading more. One bad thing is I have been spending more time on Reddit and Twitter. The surrogacy just bounces around to different forms of chatter. The 2 hour walks have been amazing though. I never have anything I want to "scribble in my notepad" however. I guess I am just a pretty dull, boring person. Who would have guessed that I am no Schopenhauer or Nietzsche?
I'm no Cézanne either.
I shouldn't envy other artists. I just have to find my way.
Sometimes it is hard to think and reflect with distractions. It's frustrating. I rarely get any time to properly think besides my walks on the beach but even then if it is too crowded there is sensory input everywhere. I wish to just walk amongst the mountains and lakes or the forest by myself.
My therapist and I talked a lot about having a voice and reaching people. It's certainly not happening on here. I am amazed at how many people need help on certain neurodiverse and addiction communities online. My time is better spent there. I do miss the familiarity though. That just comes with time and consistency.
I'm not going to start my own community. I wouldn't even know where to start.
It is getting to be about that time where I am forced to enter the ranks of wage slavery once again. I am not really looking forward to it. As bad as quarantine can be at least I have my leisure and some semblance of autonomy. I can trial out living like Schopenhauer or Nietzsche or whoever I want. I did a trial on living like Bob Marley except reading instead of creating music. Bob Marley had a great way to live life. Then I thought about professional cellists. My brother could have been a professional cellist but he liked math/physics more than cello. I thought he was on the right track but he hated research and now sells his soul slaving away in the financial sector. What a waste.
The only good thing to come out of cooking almost every day for 3 years was I learned how to cook.
Employer: Why do you want this job?
Me: Experience and a recommendation provider...
There is a popular online Bipolar community that I have been posting at. I just realized I was posting answers to queries for like 2.5 hours and there were more queries than I could even answer. I don't know it can't be such a bad way to spend some time. Hmmm...
I don't want to out and out start posting a ton on here. I think this little experiment has been fruitful and has the potential for much more fruit.
The gamification of helping people on Reddit. Upvote notification! Upvote notification! Upvote notifcation! SUPER POWER 5 UPVOTE NOTIFICATION!!! Message, Message, Message. Yuck. And I'm back fucking chattering on here. Let me at least change the channel to a good book... My tea was at least soothing and succulent.
God damnit, here I am again. Why can't I just fucking watch some tv show to pacify me of the knowledge that there is no God and I am going to die?
Finished some more books. Great. What's next? More books. Great. Great!
I don't think I want to kill myself currently but I have to do something that isn't lying in bed as a partly illuminated corpse. So, I'll go downstairs and write on LiquidPoker as a slightly more than partly illuminated corpse. When do I get to live life? Wah Wah Wah. At least I've got my nigga Steve Reich blasting through the headphones.
United States. Jun 27 2020 17:37. Posts 8534
