come on let me call you love, brainy brainy brainy
to the best of my knowledge:
Everyone has a personal mythology to explain themselves. A list of objects, items and events that they define themselves by. I would like to take all of these objects in my life out of context and arrange them in a wunderkammer, in a cabinet of curiosities and admire each for it's relative obscurity, the way in which I do not truly understand it's function and devise my own explanation for it's relevance to my life.
I would like to break down all of the beautiful navigational devices that we as humans have developed, or at least stand back in admiration. Our lives are so chaotic and full of randomness but we develop patterns to make sense of things, we devise beginnings middles and ends, we project futures and our prospective futures project on us. This is why stories are so important to us, so much apart of us. They are how we make sense of the world, of our own stories. We turn ourselves into stories. This is why I want to write, and though I have stopped for a very long time I need to start again. There is just so much to do. I love art, and I'm learning so much but what I really love are stories.
I have lost track of the narrative of my story, I have disowned my mythology or at least seperated myself from it and I am disoriented. Sometimes it begins to hurt me, sometimes I feel lost and I turn to horoscopes to give me a construct to follow. I like what my horoscope tells me. It is a mythology I can stand behind. It says I am strong and proud, hardworking and distant sometimes too. It says I seem conservative at times but have a lot bubbling underneath. I can also be fiery and have a surprising sense of humor. I am attracted to dissonance and dissonant people. I am too hard on myself and shouldn't worry so much. I will surround myself with beauty.
I have given myself some kind of importance
I spent a long time trying to disect my life, pick myself a part. I know myself but I think more than anything I know what I have told myself.
I want to be a person of my own creation.
Though I think it's naive to beilieve we are blank slates... is it?
are we slaves to what we are born as? maybe we are maulube.
I've always thought that there was something stable in all of us, some kind of essence that makes us who we are. Is this true? or is this something that we tell ourselves to make sense of our lives and rationalize our actions.
this is disjointed, because in truth I don't know what I want. I change my mind daily.
I kind of think this kind of introspection is navel gazing and I should do it less.
humm
hey guys, hope you're doing well.
it is raining here and and I went to a drawing marathon last night. We drew on the wall of this student art gallery, it was neat.
it went till 8:00 AM but I only stayed for an hour
I have to write an essay!
Everyone has a personal mythology to explain themselves. A list of objects, items and events that they define themselves by. I would like to take all of these objects in my life out of context and arrange them in a wunderkammer, in a cabinet of curiosities and admire each for it's relative obscurity, the way in which I do not truly understand it's function and devise my own explanation for it's relevance to my life.
I would like to break down all of the beautiful navigational devices that we as humans have developed, or at least stand back in admiration. Our lives are so chaotic and full of randomness but we develop patterns to make sense of things, we devise beginnings middles and ends, we project futures and our prospective futures project on us. This is why stories are so important to us, so much apart of us. They are how we make sense of the world, of our own stories. We turn ourselves into stories. This is why I want to write, and though I have stopped for a very long time I need to start again. There is just so much to do. I love art, and I'm learning so much but what I really love are stories.
I have lost track of the narrative of my story, I have disowned my mythology or at least seperated myself from it and I am disoriented. Sometimes it begins to hurt me, sometimes I feel lost and I turn to horoscopes to give me a construct to follow. I like what my horoscope tells me. It is a mythology I can stand behind. It says I am strong and proud, hardworking and distant sometimes too. It says I seem conservative at times but have a lot bubbling underneath. I can also be fiery and have a surprising sense of humor. I am attracted to dissonance and dissonant people. I am too hard on myself and shouldn't worry so much. I will surround myself with beauty.
I have given myself some kind of importance
I spent a long time trying to disect my life, pick myself a part. I know myself but I think more than anything I know what I have told myself.
I want to be a person of my own creation.
Though I think it's naive to beilieve we are blank slates... is it?
are we slaves to what we are born as? maybe we are maulube.
I've always thought that there was something stable in all of us, some kind of essence that makes us who we are. Is this true? or is this something that we tell ourselves to make sense of our lives and rationalize our actions.
this is disjointed, because in truth I don't know what I want. I change my mind daily.
I kind of think this kind of introspection is navel gazing and I should do it less.
humm
hey guys, hope you're doing well.
it is raining here and and I went to a drawing marathon last night. We drew on the wall of this student art gallery, it was neat.
it went till 8:00 AM but I only stayed for an hour
I have to write an essay!