(no subject)
So incredibly tired today, I am left to wonder if it has anything at all to do with sleep. It puts me in a good mood, though, as the delirium keeps me from paying too much attention to the detail with which this city abounds, infinite fractal relations. If I can keep myself careening around with a pleasant smile, the bags under my eyes are just about hid.
Going on a date tonight, way late tonight. For this I will buy scissors to trim my chops with. I may even indulge myself another load of laundry for some fancier clothes...? I don't know that I have any. And besides, I certainly don't have any "fancy tropical" clothes--couture tank-tops and the like. Do I look like the Modernist Square I imagined myself to be all the way back in high school? Shall I never be in possession of physical smarm'n'charm? My clothes only say these days that I am practical, comfortable, and not afraid of color.
"Benjamin SR" continues to helpfully indicate to me my habit of self-deprecation and its extension into my excessive reasonings on the history and state & prospects of my romantic life. I guess I've known this for a long time but I just always forget how easy it is to slip back into that sort of thinking, when my head demands a rationale for an intensity of irrational emotional hiccuping. To a certain extent, some of my reading on occult topics whose metaphysics would have that the cosmos is eternally enfolded upon itself as an infinitely-connected simultaneity, suggests that there is a "reason" for these experiences, that they can be found and to some extent diagnosed and treated with certain kinds of sitting-and-breathing. For which, of course, I have almost no capacity or competency whatsoever. My idiotic way of thinking about it, though, has only led me to a mild, but still unpleasant form of Religious Superstition.
Which reminds of the video of last week's solar eclipse that BSR showed me on YouTube:
I really appreciate how the mood is very festive during the first limb of the transit. Then a hush overcomes the crowd as they realize just how cold and dark it becomes during a full eclipse of the sun. Even a partial eclipse, as I observed in 1992 as a child in San Diego, elicits the same symptoms here on Earth: the wind picks up, the light changes and darkens; it is colder. No wonder cultures untouched by the wealth of reason at our disposal put so much into its significance.
Going on a date tonight, way late tonight. For this I will buy scissors to trim my chops with. I may even indulge myself another load of laundry for some fancier clothes...? I don't know that I have any. And besides, I certainly don't have any "fancy tropical" clothes--couture tank-tops and the like. Do I look like the Modernist Square I imagined myself to be all the way back in high school? Shall I never be in possession of physical smarm'n'charm? My clothes only say these days that I am practical, comfortable, and not afraid of color.
"Benjamin SR" continues to helpfully indicate to me my habit of self-deprecation and its extension into my excessive reasonings on the history and state & prospects of my romantic life. I guess I've known this for a long time but I just always forget how easy it is to slip back into that sort of thinking, when my head demands a rationale for an intensity of irrational emotional hiccuping. To a certain extent, some of my reading on occult topics whose metaphysics would have that the cosmos is eternally enfolded upon itself as an infinitely-connected simultaneity, suggests that there is a "reason" for these experiences, that they can be found and to some extent diagnosed and treated with certain kinds of sitting-and-breathing. For which, of course, I have almost no capacity or competency whatsoever. My idiotic way of thinking about it, though, has only led me to a mild, but still unpleasant form of Religious Superstition.
Which reminds of the video of last week's solar eclipse that BSR showed me on YouTube:
Click to viewI really appreciate how the mood is very festive during the first limb of the transit. Then a hush overcomes the crowd as they realize just how cold and dark it becomes during a full eclipse of the sun. Even a partial eclipse, as I observed in 1992 as a child in San Diego, elicits the same symptoms here on Earth: the wind picks up, the light changes and darkens; it is colder. No wonder cultures untouched by the wealth of reason at our disposal put so much into its significance.