(The New York Chronicles, Part 3, are on the way. I promise. But I can’t quite wrap my head around that sort of story-telling at the moment. The world energy is so focused on the so-called “new year” and end of year lists and resolutions and such. I’m feeling subsumed by it all; and when I have to keep fighting these waves of conformity – it can trigger one of my depressive periods. Resistance is NEVER futile, but it is, certainly and completely, exhausting.)
Let me be clear – well – actually, that’s the problem: I HAVE COME NOT TO BELIEVE IN THE POSSIBILITY OF CLARITY.
Notice that construction? “I have come NOT to believe…” Not, “I do not believe in” or”There is no such thing as” nor even the positive construct of “I have come to” but, rather, the waffling, negative journey-implying syntax “I have come NOT to…”
Oh fuck me. (Do you have tattoos?)
I am tired. Dangerously tired. Staying in my room, wrapped in quilts, lost in books tired. I recline, or curl in a corner, book in hand, but there are these droppings off. I cannot stay awake. It has been a long week. The 36 hour New York jaunt was fabulous and I was all me all the time – which wears a person out, it seems. And the holidays. And my sister dying in October. And me processing decades worth of loss-living and death-cultism and family-dysfunction because of all of that. Tiring. I am tired.
Which makes me go all existential. Last night’s Tweets between reading and napping:
- Trying to avoid categorization by cultural construct & patriarchal heteronormacy & live a life free of labels is fulltime lonely work
- I think Jan 2 might be one of the worst days of the year for those who find reality a heavy burden to shoulder.
- Being a philosophical semiotician obsessed w/pragmatics renders each utterance of another a lifelong puzzle – which is why I stay in my cave
- Once you understand how little of anything anyone understands, even themselves, or you, yourself, continuing to function becomes a challenge
- So now I have both PHYSICAL piles of “to be read” books everywhere AND a huge queue on my Kindle of virtual-e-books – this is INSANE
- And I’m panicked by the question “What has all this reading done for you and what is the point?” What IS the point – finally – of anything?
- & like my aged skin, the slightest contact causes my etiolated soul to rupture & bleed, taking forever to heal, & always, now, these scars
This is what I do and where I go when everyone else seems to be operating by a set of assumptions the validity of which I have come to question on the most fundamental level. The “doing” and the asking of people “what do you do?” and the defining of people by a system of labels of geography, gender, class, patriarchal-design social constructs, age, on and on and … I can’t STOP asking about EVERYTHING – “Why should I do this (or that) and is it ACTUALLY of any value or importance to me?”
This is making me crazy. This is causing a disconnect. I came upon this quote in my floating waking-coma yesterday:
- …true emancipation would be based on the refusal of work, seen as the only effective subversion of bourgeois and bureaucratic domination alike. Only work refusal would have a universal dimension able to transcend quantitative claims, and to put forward a qualitative demand for an altogether different life.
Gilles Dauvé, To Work or not to work. Is that the question?, 2002.
Exactly. Sort of. But there it is … the conundrum of “YESTHAT’SITEXACTLY” I feel and its inevitable, nearly immediate “But parsed further – a pragmatic dissection of the intent and context – maybe not after all and so …”
And this is what I do. So, I end up thinking, “Well I will just stay here, in these books, until it is time to have a drink, or I find my tattooed lover. Yes, that’s what I should do – must do – find a tattooed lover. I keep forgetting. I need to just connect with another human. Or, join another circus. Or read another book . . . because I cannot write one sentence, about the meaning of which I am absolutely clear. ”
Maybe, thing is, I ought to, well, yes – GET MY OWN TATTOO. If only I could decide what and where.