i have cleaned a ton within the last 24 hours. essentially a decade's worth of clutter has been lifted from my half of the house.
tomorrow miranda and i will be travelling to marietta to purchase an electric guitar. i am relieved to get to spend time together with a reduced level of stress.
i also look forward to the fleet foxes show coming up.
the air conditioning has been broken again since i've been back. cleaning and existing in constant heat and humidity can be exhausting.
i have rearranged the pictures and decorations in my room. it was too reflective of an odd 13 year old version of myself.
i found some pictures of my brother with mom and dad. i also brought in a couple of drawings and paintings andy made back when we were in school.
i also found a little doodle miranda made of us from about two years ago. she drew it on the back of some sheet music while i practiced piano.
i framed it.
surrounding myself with reminders of love makes a genuine impact
i just got home from work. i have had some time to write in the past month but have failed.
to my defense, i have stayed active.
much complexity clouds my mind now that is difficult to get across in sporadic writing.
maybe that's why i find it difficult to keep up with journals.
the material for this album is strong and relatively unified.
james and i are still laboring over the scope and meaning of the project as we finish the lyrics.
i am dissatisfied with how little has been recorded so far. hopefully i can unify the resources towards this goal.
many problems remain with no current solutions. i will continue.
wow, time is hard. also wow at how much the rest of the summer changed us since the last entry.
things certainly did not unfold as planned or expected. but in the best sort of way.
the projects with tucker and mac have completely altered my sense of self and artistic grounding.
it is actually possible to create things. and faster than i ever expected. but at the cost of abandoning some ideals.
this isn't conspiracy, this is reality. we all know it.
i've been learning a lot about love lately.
it feels appropriate to remind everyone in this world that i love you.
the sad part is that i don't know if i know how to love you like you need me to.
my consciousness is my god.
it loves me when i do things that make it feel good.
what is the point of being right if being right damns your life to meaninglessness?
there are games that can be played with this life that are of far better design.
but like any well designed game, there is plenty of challenge
The only piece of sacred land is the forest.
The land that surrounds it is bound to it.
In its binding this forest sinks.
A treaded snake encoils it,
Humming and hushing its song.
The song is of progress;
In one way or another.
The forest has a shortage of paths.
Through these paths I walk,
And I wonder how the snake's song affects me.
Meanwhile, the forest has invited the rain and its song.
Ensemble forms of birds and step,
Each finding awkward play with the other.
The step knows little of these woods
And less of the birds,
But it steps in rhythm with one song or the other.
Much time is spent in the land outside,
And there we must reenter.
Somehow bringing something new?
I do know there is something there, and there is something here.
I guess that what is here is somehow home.
I hope that the forest is pulling.
A romantic thought.
These are the tunes of a life,
Searching for that which binds it.
My clothes are warm.
Phenomenologically they become Gods of Love,
Gifted to me by generous keepers.
This is privilege.
She's the only woman here that reminds me of my mother.
She says you have to keep the universe up.
You have to be energetic. It doesn't know any better.
This is privilege.
I wonder how the inclusion of TV screens in eating establishments has affected the choking statistic over the last seventy years.
Television is literally fed to us by way of gravitational vector directed at the trachea.
Yet I should pause and remember that this medium, at times, has brought beauty into our world.
Take this symbolism as a sacrifice.
Respect the drug.
Your motherland is your heaven.
Normalize your identity and be free.
Silhouettes are not real people
But targets deep in our lines of sight.
Language, sometimes, is violence.
Love speaks clearly.
But the speech comes to each of us alone. Individually.
Hate breeds from confusing the beauty.
We fear the limitlessness of this expression.
We forget that the external search should only fuel the internal.
Spiritual songs are sung asked to God.
Release it all,
Accepting all things as they are.
We're all blessed if we're not fucked.
amor fati brings heaven to hell.
today is dead day. i have essentially completed my semester.
here are some topics i have taken recent interest in:
history of philosophy
philosophy of the object
ship of theseus
simple (philosophy concept)
concept of paradox
what if all the parts are grounded in the whole?
then what is the whole?
and what is its parts?
perhaps everything is the whole.
therefore all things except for everything are parts.
but then would the evolution of parts not simply be the evolution of the whole?
the parts no longer define the whole.
suppose that everything is the whole.
existence becomes one thing in a perpetual dance.
the everything dance.
bill wurtz has inspired me.
i deleted all games from my computer.
i want to make.
i want my life to be spent contributing.
if i do not start my path soon then i may lose so much potential progress and growth.
i have to discover my process. i need disciplines and hard deadlines and goals.
belief of a stagnant eternity is a lack of faith in impermanence. belief of eternal impermanence is a lack of faith in nothing.
sometimes i'm still afraid of the dark. too much potential.
i have assassinated my attention span.
i wonder if the internet is some sort of force field where people won't notice what a douche i am.