Unstable Mass of Blood and Foam
I've been slipping recently...
I've started to lose control of my memory, if I can't control my memory soon I will lose control of my work and if I lose control of my work, I lose; I can't lose and therefore I must try to pull myself together. I've had "flu-like symptoms" for the last week (because even though I have free health care in Canada, I still have my insane fear of being trapped with hospital bills realizing that I am never going to get out of debt... so I still refuse to see doctors). Sometimes, I get overcome with a feeling of loss, I reflect on the people that I left behind and I realize that despite how much of a wreak I was, I had some really good times; I'm calmer than I've ever been in Canada (I haven't taken uppers since I finished my SMP...) but I also feel like I'm falling apart. This is circular and boring. No one hears from me anymore and I only ever write about boring and depressing stuff...
My research is falling apart, in one way my work is incredibly narrow (Deleuze offering a critical theory for how to escape conventional oppression that combined with a non-essentialist anarchist ethics/politics provides a guideline for joyful life) but because Lightbody picked up being my second reader I now have to address Foucault, Habermas, and a bunch of other theorists and their objections, because he loves theorists and their objections to other theorists which is ruining what was, initially, a very straightforward and singular paper (in a very open sort of way I guess since ultimately my conclusion states that one cannot TELL someone the right way to get outside of Fascism but some helpful hints are included in Deleuze's discussion of lines of flight)... so now I have to read a bunch of theoretical works that I have no background in (Habermas has a fucking disciple whose job is making his shit make sense to people that aren't Habermas... fucking fantastic) which will ultimately make my goddamn paper longer without making it more pleasurable... Outside of my war with comparative lit masters students my semester is otherwise boring other than the fun game of "making professors uncomfortable"... this is my first entry in forever...
/end transmission
/this station is non-operational
/reference a band that has been defunct forever...
I've started to lose control of my memory, if I can't control my memory soon I will lose control of my work and if I lose control of my work, I lose; I can't lose and therefore I must try to pull myself together. I've had "flu-like symptoms" for the last week (because even though I have free health care in Canada, I still have my insane fear of being trapped with hospital bills realizing that I am never going to get out of debt... so I still refuse to see doctors). Sometimes, I get overcome with a feeling of loss, I reflect on the people that I left behind and I realize that despite how much of a wreak I was, I had some really good times; I'm calmer than I've ever been in Canada (I haven't taken uppers since I finished my SMP...) but I also feel like I'm falling apart. This is circular and boring. No one hears from me anymore and I only ever write about boring and depressing stuff...
My research is falling apart, in one way my work is incredibly narrow (Deleuze offering a critical theory for how to escape conventional oppression that combined with a non-essentialist anarchist ethics/politics provides a guideline for joyful life) but because Lightbody picked up being my second reader I now have to address Foucault, Habermas, and a bunch of other theorists and their objections, because he loves theorists and their objections to other theorists which is ruining what was, initially, a very straightforward and singular paper (in a very open sort of way I guess since ultimately my conclusion states that one cannot TELL someone the right way to get outside of Fascism but some helpful hints are included in Deleuze's discussion of lines of flight)... so now I have to read a bunch of theoretical works that I have no background in (Habermas has a fucking disciple whose job is making his shit make sense to people that aren't Habermas... fucking fantastic) which will ultimately make my goddamn paper longer without making it more pleasurable... Outside of my war with comparative lit masters students my semester is otherwise boring other than the fun game of "making professors uncomfortable"... this is my first entry in forever...
/end transmission
/this station is non-operational
/reference a band that has been defunct forever...