I haven't really had much of anything to say for a while. Not just here, but in all aspects of life. Being an English major with a concentration in Creative Writing, you can imagine how this can be problematic. I just feel tired. This is ever a problem. For so long I have just felt so tired, and I start to crave annhiliation just to have some rest.
I think the biggest part of this problem is how school functions. There is never any rest from school as long as you are in it. You can't leave school at the office at the end of the work day. You go to class all day, then go home and either work on things for class, or put them off and find yourself never really able to enjoy whatever you are doing instead, because the threat of due dates are looming over you. Even when we have breaks, professors assign major things to be due over those breaks. I like to think that I am much more at ease when I only have to worry about work while I am at work.
I don't know if I have enough creativity left in me. Sometimes I just feel so tired.
I think the biggest part of this problem is how school functions. There is never any rest from school as long as you are in it. You can't leave school at the office at the end of the work day. You go to class all day, then go home and either work on things for class, or put them off and find yourself never really able to enjoy whatever you are doing instead, because the threat of due dates are looming over you. Even when we have breaks, professors assign major things to be due over those breaks. I like to think that I am much more at ease when I only have to worry about work while I am at work.
I don't know if I have enough creativity left in me. Sometimes I just feel so tired.
It is a long way to making the case for a context of an ultimate dimension of reality, but I believe that it can be done. It is strange to watch the two predominating worldviews of humanism and naturalism as they clash with one another.
I have come to realize something sort of strange and also romantic about philosophers. They also seem so reluctant to fully give themselves to any idea, yet all they can do with the ideas that they hold most dear is to defend them from any attacking or competing theories. For instance, I am a humanist at heart, but I have more success at discrediting ideas such as naturalism and utilitarianism for their flawed internal logic structure than in coming up with really good evidence for humanism. Likewise, I have yet to meet a naturalist yet who can produce any good sound evidence that reality is a meaningless cluster of particles just accidentally spawning astronomical coincidences that take forms like civilization and culture.
It is a wearying job to do all this thinking. Some of the times I feel best is right after I have finished reading or pondering or working through some sort of logical discourse, and I just turn everything off. I just turn off the thoughts and experience the world. Normally it isn't long before all of the thoughts return of love and neediness, of chasing success and staying afloat and achieving something greater than what I have already achieved.
It is difficult for me to remedy feelings of stagnation, and a desire to escape to somewhere else, somewhere where I feel as if I can have a fresh beginning. But is that novelty only a compulsion, an illusion that will tarnish in time as well? And then what? Do I move again? Is that the way to live, running from place to place, ironically searching for peace? I don't want to stay, and I don't want things to stay the way they are for me, but I don't know if I can change it, if I can change myself so that I might love to live here, where I am, in patience and in peace. Patience and peace are my bread, but a man can't live by bread alone.
I have come to realize something sort of strange and also romantic about philosophers. They also seem so reluctant to fully give themselves to any idea, yet all they can do with the ideas that they hold most dear is to defend them from any attacking or competing theories. For instance, I am a humanist at heart, but I have more success at discrediting ideas such as naturalism and utilitarianism for their flawed internal logic structure than in coming up with really good evidence for humanism. Likewise, I have yet to meet a naturalist yet who can produce any good sound evidence that reality is a meaningless cluster of particles just accidentally spawning astronomical coincidences that take forms like civilization and culture.
It is a wearying job to do all this thinking. Some of the times I feel best is right after I have finished reading or pondering or working through some sort of logical discourse, and I just turn everything off. I just turn off the thoughts and experience the world. Normally it isn't long before all of the thoughts return of love and neediness, of chasing success and staying afloat and achieving something greater than what I have already achieved.
It is difficult for me to remedy feelings of stagnation, and a desire to escape to somewhere else, somewhere where I feel as if I can have a fresh beginning. But is that novelty only a compulsion, an illusion that will tarnish in time as well? And then what? Do I move again? Is that the way to live, running from place to place, ironically searching for peace? I don't want to stay, and I don't want things to stay the way they are for me, but I don't know if I can change it, if I can change myself so that I might love to live here, where I am, in patience and in peace. Patience and peace are my bread, but a man can't live by bread alone.
This is from a game called Hecatomb, in which you play as one of four Apocalyptic forces to bring about the end of the world. It is quite Lovecraftian, but alas, it is collectible and I have given up collectible games of any sort. Once you start the collectible path, it will forever dominate your wallet.
I have been thinking about the prospect of taking the natural inclinations of people towards a belief in higher or transcendent authorities/powers as evidence for the existence of such things. This runs really contrary to a lot of my skeptical leanings, but after thinking it through I feel like it may be a good way to philosophically get religion off the ground and running.
When I look at analytical/skeptical/doubtful people, people who are used to becoming disillusioned with things that they once held true, I see a lot of unhappiness. Conversely, people that are able to maintain some sort of faith in a higher power seem to, in general, be happier people. Despite my constant determination to keep a sharpened and critical mind, it seems that it can often lead people into the directions of desperation and suffering. Taking everything apart may seem like a reasonable approach to life, but scientific or naturalistic analysis of the world looks only at the parts and seems to have little (if any) regard for the whole (which I do believe is greater than the sum of the parts).
I digress. It seems to me that most people who have some sort of faith or belief in a higher power are generally happier and better equipped to handle hardship in life. They share strong social ties that often keep them afloat. They have concrete morals that support their decisions and convictions in life. All of these things can and are problematic for many religious adherents, due to zeal or minimal understanding of the tenets of the very system they practice in, but I think human beings have a natural tendency towards those kinds of beliefs and are generally healthier mentally when supported by them.
So the question I now ask myself is, if I believe that life is
a) more than accidental naturalistic phenomena
b) actions yield consequences
does it logically and reasonably follow that the apparent benefits of living a spiritually grounded religious life can be taken as evidence of the actual existence of a guiding, transcendent, and intention driven force that
a) is benevolent
and
b) can be appealed to?
I don't really have a good reason, but tonight I just feel frustrated and pissy. I'm really bored and restless.
There is this guy I know, who is really nice, and talented, and good at everything, and everybody likes him. Even I can't deny that he is a pretty cool guy, at least in some respect. I would really like to see him get horribly disfigured, or crippled for life or something, just to balance things out.
It actually kind of inspired me to write a play, about this Iago-esque character who sets out to sabotage the life of a person who has everything going for him. Kind of a mix between Othello and the story of Job. I'll mull it over.
There is this guy I know, who is really nice, and talented, and good at everything, and everybody likes him. Even I can't deny that he is a pretty cool guy, at least in some respect. I would really like to see him get horribly disfigured, or crippled for life or something, just to balance things out.
It actually kind of inspired me to write a play, about this Iago-esque character who sets out to sabotage the life of a person who has everything going for him. Kind of a mix between Othello and the story of Job. I'll mull it over.
I was supposed to go bowling with an old friend/ex-lover, but she flaked out on me. I should have expected it. Every time I stop thinking about her or hanging around her, she always finds me and acts interested again for about a day or so. I've been in love with her for a long time, but she is one of the most half-assed friends I have ever had and I'm really kind of tired of playing this game.
I was walking to the store to buy shampoo tonight and I passed this drug store that was closed. I started thinking about how fascinating deserted places are. Places that are normally busy and filled with people are really unsettling when they are empty and closed down. It just goes to show how dependent human beings are on regularity and predictability. It's like how when a party dies down, and your hanging around after everyone else has gone, the area feels really haunted, and it feels way more lonely than it would have if the people hadn't been gathered there to begin with. I wonder if women ever feel that way in their bodies after sex...
I was walking to the store to buy shampoo tonight and I passed this drug store that was closed. I started thinking about how fascinating deserted places are. Places that are normally busy and filled with people are really unsettling when they are empty and closed down. It just goes to show how dependent human beings are on regularity and predictability. It's like how when a party dies down, and your hanging around after everyone else has gone, the area feels really haunted, and it feels way more lonely than it would have if the people hadn't been gathered there to begin with. I wonder if women ever feel that way in their bodies after sex...
I wrote a 5 page memoir for Nonfiction today about the love triangle between me, women, and video games that went on for almost 20 years of my life (I don't play many video games anymore because I've moved on to comic books and board games). It was really nostalgic and strange for me, but nice. While writing it, I realized that the first time I ever saw a real in-person girl's breasts was while playing Super Mario 3. I also realized that I allowed myself to be cockblocked by Chrono Trigger while the most beautiful girl I've ever known was in my bed talking about how warm and comfy it was. Hindsight is a bitch, but such is life.
Meanwhile...ANALOGIES!
Rage Against the Machine :: The Man
Nolan_Void :: Cold Weather
Sex :: Nymphomaniacs
Sunshine :: Nolan_Void
Meanwhile...ANALOGIES!
Rage Against the Machine :: The Man
Nolan_Void :: Cold Weather
Sex :: Nymphomaniacs
Sunshine :: Nolan_Void
I realized something today. All it takes to make me happy is warm weather and sunshine.
It is nearing 80 degrees today, and it is the best I've felt in at least 6 months. I hear a lot of people talk about how beautiful winter and snow and all that shit is, but I really hate it. I can't stand it. For me, winter is dreary and bitter, a season of death, dying, disease, and suffering. But when the summer weather rolls back around, it feels like everything is right with the world again.
It feels like my mother and father have come together again, and the warmth that stimulates all life back into the animals and plants is our love for one another. But it's not my parents that I'm talking about; I mean my true mother and father, my spiritual parents, the earth and the sun.
Whenever winter ends I feel as if I have just done penance in Hell for a season, and the arrival of the summer sun is like a great victory over the Adversary. I know the cold will come around again and kill me eventually, but it doesn't even matter. I will always live on just to see the summer, my truest love on this earth.
It is nearing 80 degrees today, and it is the best I've felt in at least 6 months. I hear a lot of people talk about how beautiful winter and snow and all that shit is, but I really hate it. I can't stand it. For me, winter is dreary and bitter, a season of death, dying, disease, and suffering. But when the summer weather rolls back around, it feels like everything is right with the world again.
It feels like my mother and father have come together again, and the warmth that stimulates all life back into the animals and plants is our love for one another. But it's not my parents that I'm talking about; I mean my true mother and father, my spiritual parents, the earth and the sun.
Whenever winter ends I feel as if I have just done penance in Hell for a season, and the arrival of the summer sun is like a great victory over the Adversary. I know the cold will come around again and kill me eventually, but it doesn't even matter. I will always live on just to see the summer, my truest love on this earth.
Last night I was trying yet again to craft a good origin story for a comic book character, and ended up writing about six pages. I really liked the story that I came up with, but it still doesn't feel right. It wasn't where I really wanted to go with the character. All of the characters except the main one seemed to shine. It feels like I'm never going to be satisfied, like I'm always going to be scrapping what I've come up with and starting over.
Why is it that there is nothing I can think of doing for a living that does not make me feel anxious and uneasy? I wonder, should I even think about it? Would this not put me in the same place that I was before I found peace in not thinking?
I wonder why it is so hard for me to answer the question of what I would like to do. What would I like to do? I do not know. This uncertainty is upsetting for many people. Someone who is certain about what they want to do is fine. They have only to find out how to do what they want, and to do whatever it takes to get there. Does life, the world, wait for those who do not know though?
It pains me to admit that, like my father, I often think about what I would do with boundless wealth. Once I did not think that this was such an important thing, but it is alluring and compelling, an idea that captivates my idle mind.
Are all these things I think about the things that I want, or things that I have been taught to want all my life? Why am I so pulled towards the ideas of love and success? I feel imprisoned by these things sometimes, as if there is no escaping their gravity.
When I think of the person I know myself to be, I do not think it possible for me to attain love and success, which I often crave. So I then think, I must change and become otherwise. But I wonder, how can I be other than I am? This often frustrates me, and I find myself wishing for oblivion.
Many people fear death. I have a friend who spends all of his life worrying about what is going to happen when it is blown out like a candle flame. He has little reason to believe that there is anything for us beyond our deaths, and for him he is endlessly unsettled by this. For me, this a great relief. While we live, there is so much worrying about what we must do, what we must achieve, who we must get to be with us, how good we are at this or at that, how we are going to continue living in comfort or discomfort, but in death there is only peace and rest. No more worry, no more becoming.
This is why I came to the idea of not thinking. To stop thinking about it all, is to die before your death. If you die before your death, you are free to do as you wish. The understanding that nothing in this world will endure depresses some people, but it can be liberating. All the weight of obligation and responsibility is lifted, knowing that anything and everything you accomplish in this life will fade in time.
Do you ever wonder why it is that everything doesn't just go our way? Why should we not all have happiness in exactly the way we want it? Why should we not all be in love with people who love us, and why is it that we cannot all find happiness in doing exactly what we want to do?
I'm sure the answer to this lies in that we do not even know what we really want...
I wonder why it is so hard for me to answer the question of what I would like to do. What would I like to do? I do not know. This uncertainty is upsetting for many people. Someone who is certain about what they want to do is fine. They have only to find out how to do what they want, and to do whatever it takes to get there. Does life, the world, wait for those who do not know though?
It pains me to admit that, like my father, I often think about what I would do with boundless wealth. Once I did not think that this was such an important thing, but it is alluring and compelling, an idea that captivates my idle mind.
Are all these things I think about the things that I want, or things that I have been taught to want all my life? Why am I so pulled towards the ideas of love and success? I feel imprisoned by these things sometimes, as if there is no escaping their gravity.
When I think of the person I know myself to be, I do not think it possible for me to attain love and success, which I often crave. So I then think, I must change and become otherwise. But I wonder, how can I be other than I am? This often frustrates me, and I find myself wishing for oblivion.
Many people fear death. I have a friend who spends all of his life worrying about what is going to happen when it is blown out like a candle flame. He has little reason to believe that there is anything for us beyond our deaths, and for him he is endlessly unsettled by this. For me, this a great relief. While we live, there is so much worrying about what we must do, what we must achieve, who we must get to be with us, how good we are at this or at that, how we are going to continue living in comfort or discomfort, but in death there is only peace and rest. No more worry, no more becoming.
This is why I came to the idea of not thinking. To stop thinking about it all, is to die before your death. If you die before your death, you are free to do as you wish. The understanding that nothing in this world will endure depresses some people, but it can be liberating. All the weight of obligation and responsibility is lifted, knowing that anything and everything you accomplish in this life will fade in time.
Do you ever wonder why it is that everything doesn't just go our way? Why should we not all have happiness in exactly the way we want it? Why should we not all be in love with people who love us, and why is it that we cannot all find happiness in doing exactly what we want to do?
I'm sure the answer to this lies in that we do not even know what we really want...
So there is this thing wired into us, as human beings, that makes us feel as if we need to be with other people. I'm not sure what it is or why it is, but I know it is there. I am also aware that I have developed a complex around this impulse, where I am made uneasy by any thought of trying to initiate a romantic relationship of any sort with a woman.
Maybe I have lost a degree of confidence in myself. I'm fairly certain that is it. Does this stem from a lifetime of parental neglect, or just series of relationships where things have ended up kind of badly? I don't know if I'm just at a inconvenient time in my life for this kind of thing, or if this is problem that will reach into all times in my life until I solve it. I don't know what reason I could possibly have to not feel good about myself, but the feeling is there. I can see it, like an unwanted guest. What do you do with unwanted guests? I suppose I could just be more hospitable.
Going out and making yourself vulnerable to people is a big risk to the ego, the false, imagined, mind-made self. Maybe I have too much of that congealed in my head.
Either way, I can't be anything other than what I am. I'm just going to live the way that makes me happiest and let the rest of the world do its thing. If it wants to dance with me, I'll be around.
Maybe I have lost a degree of confidence in myself. I'm fairly certain that is it. Does this stem from a lifetime of parental neglect, or just series of relationships where things have ended up kind of badly? I don't know if I'm just at a inconvenient time in my life for this kind of thing, or if this is problem that will reach into all times in my life until I solve it. I don't know what reason I could possibly have to not feel good about myself, but the feeling is there. I can see it, like an unwanted guest. What do you do with unwanted guests? I suppose I could just be more hospitable.
Going out and making yourself vulnerable to people is a big risk to the ego, the false, imagined, mind-made self. Maybe I have too much of that congealed in my head.
Either way, I can't be anything other than what I am. I'm just going to live the way that makes me happiest and let the rest of the world do its thing. If it wants to dance with me, I'll be around.
