I had all this shit here but I don’t know what I wanna say.
There’s this blank space at the core of me, and then a bunch of conflicted moods that someone has constructed around it. Trying to fill the space up with something is pointless; it’s like a black hole or the Bermuda Triangle — anything that goes in simply disappears.
But of course I don’t have to worry because I know that emptiness and fullness, even embodiment as a manifest phenomenological state, are all just neurochemistry. Everything is real only because we have elucidated our ontology ourselves and declared them to be so. Existence and all discussion that occurs within it = tautology. There is too much university in me, and not enough beach.
I am lonely, but right now I should probably be alone.
I think I have added another tattoo to the list. That’s something. I have good friends and am in contact with my family. That’s something, too. My girlfriend rubs me on the head and smiles. That’s also something. My preceptor likes my thesis proposal. That’s definitely something.
If I work hard, maybe I can turn this train around. I’ll cross my fingers. Bottoms up.