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Jun. 18th, 2013 02:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kingtycoonThere’s this feeling that happens and it’s a feeling, but also I have doubts and consider that it is some kind of medical situation. I suppose I don’t want to purely renounce chemistry as the cause and root of all I feel and do, but I also don’t want to accept that I am a consciousness entirely composed of my physical extensions.
There, I’ll say it, my physical extensions. Fine – I’m… Whatever, I don’t mean to engage willy-nilly in the mind-body dualism of poorer thinkers, but I’m softening up on the Mind-Body dualism of really excellent thinkers. Make sense? Who cares.
When I was young I lived in perpetual heartbreak. I was always, always sad, always despondent. You know – I felt love and it wasn’t returned, and I’d be heartbroken. One day I said to myself: “I don’t care.” And then after that, whenever a thing happened that was hard to stomach or bear, I’d say: “I don’t care.” And that cured me – like leather it cured me, toughened up like saddle leather I found that I was and am really really great at that most sublime of the transcendent skills- which is accepting and letting go, removing desire. You say: “Kingtycoon, it won’t be the way you want it to be and you can’t have this.” I say: “I don’t care.” And it is a magic spell and I don’t care anymore.
My fingers are all stained with liquid ink that comes from painting projects. My house is half empty that comes from vanishing roommates. My bills are half paid, and my stuff is half boxed. I’ve got one foot out the door and one foot in – in between and in transit – I don’t like this feeling. If it is a feeling, maybe it’s just chemistry. I find myself saying: “I don’t care.”
I will a little. One thing about doing support for people is that they think automatically you are the greatest, because you know things that they don’t know and which seem mysterious. So in that respect it’s like being a magician. Also like being a magician is that often, there is no good explanation for why a thing is happening, and there is no good solution and it seems as if you cannot do what you should do. Sometimes you do a miracle and accomplish what seems impossible. Sometimes you fail spectacularly at something that is impossible but which outsiders consider to be simple. That’s the animal. I find myself wanting to be praised for my work in excess of my pay or other benefits, I want to be valued. Why is that I wonder. Chemistry.
There’s a lot besides, you know that there always is, there is always so much more than just this – comments on a feeling and on a way of being. I find that I have a wish or a desire to document it all, but then it seems hard, and I have no time and I don’t know how to begin to tell you – all about my Father on Father’s day, and how I am afraid of being broken and twisted and weak one day and about my niece who smiles and loves me, and my daughter who says I’m her role model and proves it by being terrible at school. About my new house and my growing plants and my anxieties regarding these things. About how after years of recovering and collapse, recovery and collapse, I’m going out on my own once again without roommates, without a cohort. I think about recording all of that and how much it might mean, someday, but then I say: “I don’t care.” Which is how I feel now. There’s some flavor that’s in life that is missing for the moment, some savor that has been left out. I am pleased and all, not that, but why is it, do you think, that I find myself letting go?
There, I’ll say it, my physical extensions. Fine – I’m… Whatever, I don’t mean to engage willy-nilly in the mind-body dualism of poorer thinkers, but I’m softening up on the Mind-Body dualism of really excellent thinkers. Make sense? Who cares.
When I was young I lived in perpetual heartbreak. I was always, always sad, always despondent. You know – I felt love and it wasn’t returned, and I’d be heartbroken. One day I said to myself: “I don’t care.” And then after that, whenever a thing happened that was hard to stomach or bear, I’d say: “I don’t care.” And that cured me – like leather it cured me, toughened up like saddle leather I found that I was and am really really great at that most sublime of the transcendent skills- which is accepting and letting go, removing desire. You say: “Kingtycoon, it won’t be the way you want it to be and you can’t have this.” I say: “I don’t care.” And it is a magic spell and I don’t care anymore.
My fingers are all stained with liquid ink that comes from painting projects. My house is half empty that comes from vanishing roommates. My bills are half paid, and my stuff is half boxed. I’ve got one foot out the door and one foot in – in between and in transit – I don’t like this feeling. If it is a feeling, maybe it’s just chemistry. I find myself saying: “I don’t care.”
I will a little. One thing about doing support for people is that they think automatically you are the greatest, because you know things that they don’t know and which seem mysterious. So in that respect it’s like being a magician. Also like being a magician is that often, there is no good explanation for why a thing is happening, and there is no good solution and it seems as if you cannot do what you should do. Sometimes you do a miracle and accomplish what seems impossible. Sometimes you fail spectacularly at something that is impossible but which outsiders consider to be simple. That’s the animal. I find myself wanting to be praised for my work in excess of my pay or other benefits, I want to be valued. Why is that I wonder. Chemistry.
There’s a lot besides, you know that there always is, there is always so much more than just this – comments on a feeling and on a way of being. I find that I have a wish or a desire to document it all, but then it seems hard, and I have no time and I don’t know how to begin to tell you – all about my Father on Father’s day, and how I am afraid of being broken and twisted and weak one day and about my niece who smiles and loves me, and my daughter who says I’m her role model and proves it by being terrible at school. About my new house and my growing plants and my anxieties regarding these things. About how after years of recovering and collapse, recovery and collapse, I’m going out on my own once again without roommates, without a cohort. I think about recording all of that and how much it might mean, someday, but then I say: “I don’t care.” Which is how I feel now. There’s some flavor that’s in life that is missing for the moment, some savor that has been left out. I am pleased and all, not that, but why is it, do you think, that I find myself letting go?
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no subject
Date: 2013-06-18 07:48 pm (UTC)toothpaste on the computer screen
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Date: 2013-06-19 01:04 pm (UTC)It's not that hard to understand, kid doesn't even want to be in the game though. I can get that, but it's not up to you if you're in the game or not. That's what I learned at school, and you and everyone else.