So yesterday I of course rationalized skipping this. I'm trying the after-dinner thing, but for jan-term it may make more sense to do an after-lunch thing, assuming I don't fall asleep like I did today. We'll see. Moving on, I'm on a no inspiration run, so let's start with nothing. Never meant (things said). I never meant anything I ever said, assuming correspondance between thought and speech. Here I lack the Happy Match. Don't really believe it, though. I guess that's what I always am: critical of criticism. Let's just take things as they are. It's about a certain disciplining of the body, a certain 'if you don't like this song you're listening to it wrong'. Keep going. I stopped there for a little while but I can't do that. Chimes are bells, guitars sound like chimes but they lack the complex, even unpredictable non-harmonic overtones. Very strange. Trumpet is softer, even a sharp attack is like a kick in the groin not a knife in the guts. Slow, deep-felt ache that only recedes with a struggle, writhing on the grass. Amherst tomorrow, imperative, no sleeping. I can take the 1:05 or the 2:25 but no later. If I'm efficient I should be able to go to the bookstore and CVS and get back to the bus stop by the time the bus comes back, 20 minutes after it drops me off. Maybe five minutes to get back to the bus stop, five minutes getting to and between the stores and ten minutes in the stores. Maybe more time in transit less in stores. Not sure, but I think I can do it.
Let's just see what happens when the summer ends. Feels like the end of summer because I'm back at school but it's cold cold cold outside and a bath in even the melted snow would feel like a bear hug from a bear made out of cold water because the water would be cold it would be cold it would be snow oh god. 33 degree water must be colder than snow, in terms of how it saps your heat. Must be something to do with the way liquid works. Not that interested in it. More importantly I'm having trouble streaming. I mean, I'm writing but it's not coming real well. I know I said that it didn't have to be transparent or profound or whatever but I really need some kind of reward to feel good about keep on keepin' on. I'll do three paragraphs this time because I think they're a bit longer than some of my previous ones, but still, I need something. Keep on. There's a certain value in fake historical documents, even if they're simple exotifications. Not that this treatment of the exotic is actually good but sometimes I think that it's good there are these negative things because at least we know. The worst thing is a bad thing that happened but no one knows about or acknowledges. Keep studying atrocity. I don't know. I don't really believe that.
The problem with moral and political and especially ontological philosophy is that I gave up on it when I was fourteen. This is the stupid thing. We need philosophy classes in middle school not in college. Well, philosophy class with middle schoolers might also have been torturous, but the point is that I needed that resource and it wasn't there. I can do analytic philosophy now because I've only just come to it; at least, it addresses questions I've come to in the past three or four years, which is less painful than having to delve back into the worst times of my life. Also I never gave up on questions of language and literature like I did on the earlier questions. It was actually kind of exciting for me to realize that even after I thought I had given up on philosophy there were still whole realms that I hadn't given up on, hadn't even thought about. The point is, Plato might be as much an exercise in regression and self-therapy as it is one of philosophy. I don't think I was really ready to deal with all this yet, but I guess I have to now. Maybe.
