Oh but for chaos.

moved to other blog.. 3/25/09

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Missing.

A bit of free-writing: It takes hold of me most often as my days close down and I begin the long walk home. I do most of my best thinking while walking, at least about these sorts of things. Perhaps it's just the Fall, although it's been there before in the summertime, but not as strong. A context with less interference: Ithaca in Autumn at sunset, and the beauty of it runs me down very quickly. It fails to take hold when there are people around me, but when they go it takes me back... to the point where I no longer seek to surround myself with other people, least of all people who don't feel like home. I guess that's what it like, I feel like I'm locked out of home with curtains drawn. There are people inside, but they can't hear me, and they don't have a sense that I am missing, and try as I might I can't open the door or find my way back. It's not my home anymore perhaps... but it's all I ever had. I feel like I've found a secret beautiful...
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Distracted

The problem with trying to read without listening to music is there is too much to think about, and when the words aren’t as clear and interesting and fascinating as the other things cluttering my head… I find myself distracted. Right now I’m reading up on the neuroscience of vision… or trying to. Thoughts of Myanmar, of service work I wish I had time for, of needing pizza and beer with friends who no longer live in state, of men in general sucking… of death (not mine… a friend’s boyfriend). Mostly thoughts stemming from that suicide really… of empathizing for the people involved, of being mad of the people not capable of empathizing with someone who the world crushed like only reality can… Grr. People are bastards… And somehow it’s always the ones who pride themselves on their empathy or morality that end up being not so empathetic or moral. I need to hang out with more people who introduce themselves as hell-bound in a handbasket-style bastards. But I really do believe it’s takes som...
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Utopia and Home

A friend (Lauren) is doing a project in which she is collecting people's personal definitions of utopia and home. Here's is what I passed on to her: Utopia - an impossible dream worth chasing. Home - (A bit of freewriting on this subject a year or so old) - It was good to be home. It felt great to be going somewhere with you: to be together with a single destination in mind. It wouldn't matter where we went or where stopped along the way... You were the one I wanted by me when I wanted to get away from everyone else, and when I couldn't bear to be alone.
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