to let go, to be okay, to be clear about things.
People, myself included, do such self-damaging things sometimes. I wish they didn’t. It makes life so much more complicated. If we apes didn’t learn, didn’t remember, it would be easier. But we do. Then, we regret remembering, at the same time that we regret the things that we remember.
If you learn your lessons, people think you’re defensive. If you don’t learn them, people tell you that everything you don’t like about the world is your own fault.
I guess this is my first dark blog post in a while. But sometimes stuff does get into your head. What can you do? Not much. Bite bullet(s) and push ahead with what you’re sure is right. That’s all.
Okay, today is sucking.
I am very much not liking it.
I want to be in Poland already.
I lived in Salt Lake City for two decades, and later lived in Chicago and Los Angeles and even Portland for a summer, but here’s the thing: I didn’t know any of these places all that well. Even in Salt Lake City there are neighborhoods where I’ve never been. In those other places I rarely ventured out of my own neighborhood and when I did it was to go “downtown.”
In New York, in less than a year I have seen most areas. I have been to four of the five burroughs (Long Island being the missing one) and know roughly where everything, every neighborhood is and how to get there. I think I have taken every subway line at least once, and most of them many times already.
The nature of the space, the demographics, and the economic field here is somehow different from other cities.
…maybe the longest day ever. Certainly the longest day in a long, long time. It seems to have ended well, though—even if I’m a little more broke than I was before. (Okay, a lot more broke.)
Got to see some more of New York and also had some time to sit and muse about lots of things, so it wasn’t at all a total loss. Now I’m in the home stretch. There is one major thing—the paper—and a whole shitasston of minor things to be done.
Better get on it.
But, uhm, I think I’ll start tomorrow.
the longest day in history. It finds me on a subway train from flushing, packed in like sardines next to Mets fans, with pouring rain outside.
Good god this is a lot.
Okay, one of those days.
– Did not get place
– Laptop died, will need new laptop, little time though
– Backpack ruptured on street, will need new backpack, little time though
– Paper due in moment
– Flying out in moment
Gaaah. Above, should also read: “little time though, and still less money.”
0ver 90 degrees, in fact.
I walked down to Soho and beyond and hit Orchard Street. Meh. Then I came back up to Flatiron. Better. Mebbe. I have to find a place to sit indoors and be cool for a while.
First of all, I’m tremendously, tremendously late. That may have something to do with my having gone to bed at 3.00 in the morning.
Next, it’s my last day for the June class and also my last day at work before leaving.
We don’t know about the place yet, it’s today that G— is supposed to let us know.
Also, while my lovely other half is in the Czech Republic we are so far unable to communicate by voice, so it has been several days since we were last able to speak, something that hasn’t happened in months.
All in all it’s a tremendously surreal day. It does not match in any way a “normal” day.
This is interesting. I am trying to decide what I think about it, but it requires more reflection than I can do right now. Still, it is certainly interesting.
to do. I am running out of time.
…right in the middle of the city. First one, just hanging there in midair, thinking to him/herself what a nice, summer day it was, his/her little abdomen flashing every now and then. Then I was walking along and I realized that they were everywhere, here and there, little flashes over pavement, by fences, next to cars.
I immediately fell in love with them. For about ten minutes, I felt five years old again.
I was tremendously political. I had a star tattooed on me to prove it. I went to rallies and joined parties and wrote essays and letters to the editor and talked politics and economics (same thing) with anyone who would listen.
The older I get, the more I think politics is another word for insanity. The “political people” seem crazier and crazier to me, on both sides of the spectrum. They are not pragmatic. They are not well-reasoned. They don’t give a shit about actual people and actual peoples’ lives. They appear to operate from a very self-centered worldview: “I feel as though world is trying to fuck me, personally, myself, and so in response I will adopt political position X in opposition to this attempt, and will hold this position until my dying breath, and damn you all!”
I guess the older I get the more politics seems like narcissism.
and read Tu Fu
without feeling deeply—impossibly—moved.