Nov 26, 2018

sickness falls

i feel sick. actually sick. my throat has a bit of a hitch to it, my head hurts, i'm finding it hard to smile,  exactly. my stomach hurts. i'm uninterested in work or any one of my myriad of side projects. i've got plenty of books to read and blog post ideas to flesh out, but i'm just not *interested* in doing any of them.

i'm pretty sure most of this is a combination of failure to exercise along with being in austin and not really having a set routine. i'm here for one more week but i'm still struggling to confront the things that need doing.

i really hope this is just a failure to exercise and not some deeper bad attitude that seems to seep into and ruin everything.  ruins everything!

coded. i finished reading vigor's article on the gerry principle yesterday and i want to write a rebuttal so badly, but also i know that it's not wrong. it's not wrong!! just that there's other ways of seeing things.

really it's pretty ingenious and i appreciate the ingeniousness of it. applaud it, even.

i'm so sick of twitter. i've been doing nothing but checking checking checking the website the past few days it feels awful. absolutely awful. it's part of the malaise, this classy unclassy always on the Internet feeling. writing isn't that, writing is movement, it's coming out of things but damn.

i went and did watercolor yesterday with my sister and i'm proud of them but i also sort of just wanted them to put up on my internet corkboard. i love aesthetic things. i want more aesthetic things.

i really want to finish up the upstairs space. it needs a decent amount of work, but it's incredibly doable. i should do it.

finishing things is incredibly hard. a coworker once told me that the thing that set him apart from other people, his real edge if you will, was that he finished things.

he *finished* things.  i don't have that edge and i feel it pretty roughly recently.

Nov 11, 2018

So many blogs

I finally feel that I have almost enough blogs and it’s the best feeling I could ever have imagined. There’s one missing still, and I know exactly what it is. Someday I’ll erect it. Not today. Today is not the day.

I started a new blog for all things post rational. I’m really worried that my writing style is going to choke it off from mass acceptance but I also think my style is the absolute best thing about it. There’s a way to mitigate the real problem, which is a certain hesitation to dig into explaining. I can usually break through this reluctance when I’m high. Not now though, that’s not an option. It’s ok but I can’t help but wonder if it’s an illusion anyway.

Rastros means traces or signs left behind.

I’m worried that I’m conflating the term context. I need to more rigorously define it, I think. Actually that feels like a great next piece. I’m really struggling with how to open up the discussion into quantum territory — exploring context seems like a good next bridge piece, as I think it will be a good start into the core of what quantum rhetoric is.

This is fun, this journey into the unknown path of slow exploration explanation.



I’m in Australia now, having just finished up the Lightning Summit in Adelaide. The apartment I’m staying in is across from the fair grounds. Today, Sunday, there’s an outdoor concert in the park and I’m having trouble placing the music. It’s old, maybe mid-aughts in the US. It’s hard to figure where this set of people would be in American culture. Forget trying to place them in terms of Australian culture.

We spent a few hours walking on the beach yesterday. I saw a lot of different types of people, small glimpses of overlapping micro cultures and I’m again struggling to feel like I have a good grasp of what the competing factions are. For me, this is the hardest part of traveling to native English destinations, the feeling at home and fluent while also being endlessly barraged by a completely different set of norms. Everything feels just slightly off. It’s a bit nauseating, in the seasickness sense. I like knowing to expect it, as it makes it much easier to enjoy the sensation of.






Nov 2, 2018

self express express

a few things.

Things.

You know how sometimes Things keep coming across your view of the world? We call them coincidences but they always feel like an inevitable amount of magic.

Like that odd fascination with seeing the clock, once a day, lined up as 12:34 and then you email me and the timestamp receipt is that, just

12:34.

Or how I get into a weird, random obsessive hole about a particular elliptic curve thing, like really go superficially obsessive, only to see it pop up again and again later when following an intuition about what's going to be on the table at the lightning summit next week. Bam. Recognition, in the most small of random ways.

Or how all those, my, personality tests say "sexual". Scorpio the house of fantasy and sexual energy, enneagram two with a three wing, sexual variant.

What does it mean?

It's a struggle to see yourself.

The thing I like most about personality tests isn't so much what it says about me, rather, I love the foiling that it provides. The ability to see other people, with my own possible blindspots pointed out, a template to hold up and see the edges through. They're fun in the aggregate, in the lines, in the spaces between you and other people that they create or reveal.

It's not 'other people' in the conjunctive though, other people in the specific, the interactional. Talking to someone and realizing how the lines of difference move through a conversation, through an outlook, a perspective. Where the branches lie, between you and I, and where they're the same and how where you end up at the end of that conversation is a much different place than where you started out and where you would have ended up on your own.

Is that a sexual thing, to be into finding branching lines of difference? Into digging into the ins and the minutiae of existence, at the boundary lines between people?

Something in this interpretation lends itself to communality, to interaction. Can you be sexual in a box, population one? You can logic in a box, you can stoic in a box, you can fantasy in a box, sure, but can you sexual in a box?

Can you? Can you?

And then Reading through 'other people's' blog posts looking for the difference. The spark, the feeling, the what is it that there is here that there is not elsewhere. Because,

there is a thing.

There is a thing here that stands to be delineated and wondering, to myself:

Does 'sexual' define the difference?

procrastinate

i'm really struggling with confronting work today. i've told myself that it's ok to run away. i can run away as long as i'd ...