Stuffs
I had little uninterrupted sleep last night - four hours, perhaps? Six hours of my body refusing to move. I would say 'Coffee = Oxygen' but that's what Starbucks want you to say. My seminar was spent in a daze. I poked my tutor on facebook a couple of weeks ago. He said, to the group, 'feel free to poke me', and everyone laughed -- not knowing how true it was. Oops. Tutors should get facebooks just so you can poke them whenever the whim takes you. I hope someone pokes him after this seminar. He's a postgrad student, can I add: not a graying, patches-at-the-elbow Professor. Anyway, I barely responded to anything. Blank. Lack of eye contact. Hat on. Then coffeed with someone I hadn't coffeed with before, which was nice: art 'n' stuff. Good. I just need a beret and a french accent. Mind you, this guy also had a beret. Hmmm. I'll miss philosophy.
I wonder how long I'll write in this journal before I, with a cavalier flourish, leave it for some younger, prettier blog. Now I'm here because I'm waiting for a tutorial to begin. And, because LJ actually makes me blog obsessively, I'm on here.
I had a strange 'day'-'evening'-'conscious'-dream about Merleau-Ponty yesterday. He was in the kitchen. He looked exactly as he did in photographs and it was with such intensity that he was recreated in my imagination that it was as if I had seen him, in real life, and I would be able to recognise him were I to see him in real life -- and not just from the straight-on or profile perspectives that you see in photographs -- but from all perspectives. This is quite rare for me. Anyway, he was in the kitchen - he had a baby, he picked up the baby, he was happy - he had a brown satchel and a wife. Hmm. I have a very gender-conventional imagination. But I was reading 'Emile' by Rousseau at the time. So there you go. I mention it because it is strange for this happen: I've not dreamed of Plato or Aristotle or even Bertrand Russell with such precision in physical form. Or anyone for that matter from simple photographs. And, of course, I rarely, if ever, dream about philosophers.
Though dreams have been a strange thing lately.
I dreamed someone texted me about not going to the theatre on Friday instead of Tuesday. I did, of course, find a text on my phone the same morning about not going to the theatre on Friday. Reality is all jumbled up. I had de ja vu when filling in a form for an online tasks organiser after having a dream about the same visual sensation of filling in an online organiser. But I also had a dream about someone cancelling on me today because they were working in a shop in Manchester.. This, I believe, is too random to happen!
La la...
I wonder how long I'll write in this journal before I, with a cavalier flourish, leave it for some younger, prettier blog. Now I'm here because I'm waiting for a tutorial to begin. And, because LJ actually makes me blog obsessively, I'm on here.
I had a strange 'day'-'evening'-'conscious'-dream about Merleau-Ponty yesterday. He was in the kitchen. He looked exactly as he did in photographs and it was with such intensity that he was recreated in my imagination that it was as if I had seen him, in real life, and I would be able to recognise him were I to see him in real life -- and not just from the straight-on or profile perspectives that you see in photographs -- but from all perspectives. This is quite rare for me. Anyway, he was in the kitchen - he had a baby, he picked up the baby, he was happy - he had a brown satchel and a wife. Hmm. I have a very gender-conventional imagination. But I was reading 'Emile' by Rousseau at the time. So there you go. I mention it because it is strange for this happen: I've not dreamed of Plato or Aristotle or even Bertrand Russell with such precision in physical form. Or anyone for that matter from simple photographs. And, of course, I rarely, if ever, dream about philosophers.
Though dreams have been a strange thing lately.
I dreamed someone texted me about not going to the theatre on Friday instead of Tuesday. I did, of course, find a text on my phone the same morning about not going to the theatre on Friday. Reality is all jumbled up. I had de ja vu when filling in a form for an online tasks organiser after having a dream about the same visual sensation of filling in an online organiser. But I also had a dream about someone cancelling on me today because they were working in a shop in Manchester.. This, I believe, is too random to happen!
La la...