(no subject)
My sense of confidence and level of self-discipline has become slippery and affected by these problems in my surroundings. Which has always scared and worried me, creating a need to procrastinate out of a breakdown of control.
"re-typesets them to faciliate a narrative that could loop back upon itself, mirroring the story of the protagonist, who is continuously retracing his own steps."
"a joke that redeems itself...because it is a joke of cosmic proportions."
Nothing is seriously wrong until I try to explain why I won't, can't or haven't done something; my ideals stand in firm judgement upon/against my timid, though optimistic attempts at modesty.
Moments alone, personal and mundane rituals - these can be the most difficult moments to have speak for themselves in terms of meaning anything. When your surroundings don't seem to want you, you have to work harder to hear yourself or learn how much ability you actually have in speaking/being for yourself; having that inherent life in you that exists no matter what is happening externally.
I have only about a week left here - house-sitting for A. The black cat's insatiable egomania is annoying me. If he would sit still and allow me to eat breakfast, etc., there wouldn't be a problem but instead he is like a battleship parking itself on my lap, and he walks in a circle with heavy molesting feet, and he yowls if you don't give him a skin graft. What an annoying situation.
My first week here, about the 4th to the 10th, I had trouble sleeping and couldn't work on anything to any useful degree. I mainly napped and went through A's film collection, in my usual greedy, child-like manner. During the second week I sent away my residency application (which has a lot of problems still); then I started being able to sleep. I think I've been 'resting' while at the same time not being able to relax (sleep) and also 'resting' in marathon sessions out of the fear that I won't have such a chance for a long while again. I think such a state of 'rest', more than being constructive, is more like hibernation.
Talking to D last night created an access into another house, one which is made up of combinations of houses and apartments both visited, read about, and imagined. The points of access were J & D's empty studio, A's house, and D's sentence about painting their new bedroom orange. Combined with A's Taschen vintage Mexico prints book, and what I've been reading about 'Nostalghia' and 'Sans Soleil'; we'll see if the house lives up to my inventions.
"re-typesets them to faciliate a narrative that could loop back upon itself, mirroring the story of the protagonist, who is continuously retracing his own steps."
"a joke that redeems itself...because it is a joke of cosmic proportions."
Nothing is seriously wrong until I try to explain why I won't, can't or haven't done something; my ideals stand in firm judgement upon/against my timid, though optimistic attempts at modesty.
Moments alone, personal and mundane rituals - these can be the most difficult moments to have speak for themselves in terms of meaning anything. When your surroundings don't seem to want you, you have to work harder to hear yourself or learn how much ability you actually have in speaking/being for yourself; having that inherent life in you that exists no matter what is happening externally.
I have only about a week left here - house-sitting for A. The black cat's insatiable egomania is annoying me. If he would sit still and allow me to eat breakfast, etc., there wouldn't be a problem but instead he is like a battleship parking itself on my lap, and he walks in a circle with heavy molesting feet, and he yowls if you don't give him a skin graft. What an annoying situation.
My first week here, about the 4th to the 10th, I had trouble sleeping and couldn't work on anything to any useful degree. I mainly napped and went through A's film collection, in my usual greedy, child-like manner. During the second week I sent away my residency application (which has a lot of problems still); then I started being able to sleep. I think I've been 'resting' while at the same time not being able to relax (sleep) and also 'resting' in marathon sessions out of the fear that I won't have such a chance for a long while again. I think such a state of 'rest', more than being constructive, is more like hibernation.
Talking to D last night created an access into another house, one which is made up of combinations of houses and apartments both visited, read about, and imagined. The points of access were J & D's empty studio, A's house, and D's sentence about painting their new bedroom orange. Combined with A's Taschen vintage Mexico prints book, and what I've been reading about 'Nostalghia' and 'Sans Soleil'; we'll see if the house lives up to my inventions.