Puerile feelings.

Its 221am. I was sitting here the past few hours thinking about how I need to update my journal. Semester 1 is over. 5 more to go- and I’m excited.

I was thinking how I need to journal more. I was also thinking that my mind has flat-lined. Not too much to think about or reflect on. The past week I have been vegetating, quite literally. Sleeping 15 hours a day and waking around dusk to lounge around or go out to the wee hours of the morn, indulging in bacchanal mischief. This is the mode I contract when I come home. Not sure why this is the case. I always tell myself great things I’ll do- read several books for pleasure, workout like a maniac, continue writing my book… But when I enter through the door of my house, all my ambition flutters away and I’m left feeling completely listless and apathetic. Dunno why. I mean… wait… nope. dunno.

So i was pretty upset that I didn’t have anything at all to write about… so I was fumbling around on facebook and lookin through photos and stumbled on one of my “ex’s”. A surge of perverted feelings ran over me. First, and she’d kill me if she heard me say this, I never considered her a girlfriend. More like a comforting fuck buddy. She was needy for some love, and so was I. Not much else too it. I went for over two years without a girlfriend, hooking up with random girls along the way. i needed intimacy, no matter how shallow. And the truth is, I wanna care, I wanna give my feelings and heart, but its near impossible. I don’t think I am ready at this point in my life.

My ex girlfriends aid as a poignant reminder of these perverse feelings. When I am with them, I look at them as temporary artifices in my life. They come and go, and if you put too much in, they take too much when they leave. So I stay cool and stolid and emotionally reserved, acting on passions derived from sexual urges when the women demand it. Otherwise I am an empty vessel and they are emotionally needy women.

Anyway… so I transferred schools and my ex stayed in bfe. The people around her are, in my opinion, and my opinion is extremely critical, degenerates. She was real broken up when I left, endlessly crying and calling and doing her all to stay in touch and kindle the romance and intimacy… and I…I expected it to end from day one. As a result, I was fully insulated from feeling any tenderness of the heart. No voids here. Wam bam thankyou maam.

I admit this is absolutely horrible and I will say that I don’t hold this perspective all the time. At the moment I’m feeling pretty unaffected.

So ex girlfriends. I am actually repulsed by the vast majority of them. What repulses me most are the types of guys they go after. You’d think that as an ex I’d get jealous, but just the opposite happens. I think to myself “I thought these girls had better taste/standards”. And you know, that’s really harsh on the guys. I’m sure they’re all great and stuff… but I look at them and go… ‘those dudes are losers not goin anywhere.’ And then I look at my exgirlfriend and think ‘and I dated a girl who is ok with that?’. and then I feel repulsed and never want to associate with them again.

Of course, they think i’m a huge asshole. or insensitive. which is, probably, true.

I also can’t stand thinking about some nasty new boyfriend fuckin that same girl. I, obviously, consider myself a fine specimen, especially so in bed. And these guys? psh. makes me a tad ill inside.

In the back of my mind, whenever I break up with a girl, I tell myself “That girl was great. Real great. Maybe down the road I’ll realize how great she was and we could have a future together.” But after seeing them with a new dude… 95% of the time whom i consider a huge step down, I just wanna vomit and sanitize my genitals.

Anyway…point being is- fml.

i need shit to do. Tomorrow… beach day. My sleep schedule is FUDGED. and my bank account: PURGED. broke as a joke. Christmas is great, but we may as well save our money and splurge on ourselves once a year. I got an IPhone. (<-not sure if I should put an exclamation or not).

Gosh… lots more to say but shoot… its 251am. night.


repetition. repetition is everything. it is refinement. it is perfection. it is success. it is everything. repetition. repetition.repetition. all day, every day. set your mind to a task, and repeat. night, and day. make sacrifices. devote your being to its actualization. and repeat. refine. distill. repetition. drill it into my brain. repetition. reading, writing, thinking, communicating, achieving. repetition. be better. it is the only way. repeat.

repetition. repetition is everything. it is refinement. it is perfection. it is success. it is everything. repetition. repetition.repetition. all day, every day. set your mind to a task, and repeat. night, and day. make sacrifices. devote your being to its actualization. and repeat. refine. distill. repetition. drill it into my brain. repetition. reading, writing, thinking, communicating, achieving. repetition. be better. it is the only way. repeat.

my last exams tomorrow. I wake in 6 hours to eat and study for an hour and a half.

i have a strong desire to see through it all. perceptive. insightful. keen. sagacious. when i look at situations and people my intention is to look into and beyond whats happening. examine the persons intentions. examine the outlook of the situation. all the factors involved. i dont want to get caught up in a rush and miss a moment of observance. of course this mode does not consume my entire day. i am tired.

A Reflection: An Evolution of Responsibility

The Evolution of the Responsibility to Self and Place:

Looking back on the semester, I fastidiously inspect the various moments my mind was exposed to new insights. The philosophy class has been a period of incubation. Throughout the fall I have allowed my mind to freely explore the legitimacy of novel ideas and weighed their relevance to my life, unhindered by competing feelings of preservation. A burning passion kindles in my chest. I reflect on the philosophers and the discussions that struck deeply, that fanned that flame into a fiery blaze. My thoughts turn to a few readings and philosophers that reinforced and, at the same time, upended my antiquated belief system. In order to illuminate the timid shadows of self deception, I allowed these philosophies early on to serve as a spectacle for all further reflection.

At the start of the year I was enveloped in a dense cloud of confusion. As we progressed in our readings and I accreted understanding, a series of themes began to emerge. The themes, strung individually throughout the weekly readings, later weaved themselves into a vivid tapestry as the semester culminated. They included the conception of self, the genealogy and history of society, the role of belief, and the function of nature as it relates to a sense of place. None of these themes stand alone, but borrow from each other. Of each, I will speak broadly and expound on each philosopher’s contribution to the construction of each theme as it appeared to me.

I believe the core to understanding is primary experience. In an age of information, I believe its role in the modern life has been diminishing. With so many perspectives to read on a subject, who needs to waste time experiencing it for themselves? One can read of the countless errors and achievements and interpretations of each and come away feeling equally wise and judicial. The fault with this, however, is that we rob ourselves the task of exercising our own powers of reason and interpretation. Nevertheless, our lives are short and we cannot possibly indulge all our curiosities so, read we must. With this in mind, we are obligated to read judiciously, choosing texts carefully (preferably primary sources to ensure minimum distortion of interpretation) and reflecting with the intent to incorporate the new knowledge into the faculties of understanding. John Aubrey said, “He had read much, if one considers his long life; but his contemplation was much more than his reading. He was wont to say that if he had read as much as other men he should have known no more than other men.” Reading must involve contemplation. Thus is the duty of the philosopher.



You can be whoever you want. Who are you? Who legislates your role? No doubt your cognition, but from what matter? Your society nurses your beliefs. You choose which kernel of knowledge will yield the most fruit- we execute this legislation. And who decides if we are effective? Certainly not the executor, for that would be tyranny of mind, a fascist abomination of being. And who is the judge after all? Why, the society from which we glean our kernels and suckle our wellsprings. We are not our conscience; rather, we are fawns, helpless without our mother’s milk. We grovel, as slaves do, compromising and snarling in desperate hysteria. We are slaves to each other, to the perceptions of past ancestors, of yesteryear. Why can’t we inherit a spirit of wildness? Is that too unwieldy? It is not our man we cannot tolerate, but ourselves. We see ourselves in them and we recoil in horror, in disdain. Creeping around, like a blind beggar, seeking handouts from our fellow mendicants. We run, internally, and hide, but never willing to give up our conditioned vices. We rot inside, desperately coining new meaning for every chapter of life. The insatiable will for freedom only collapses on itself as we become our own ends, and means. But we are never alone, so long as our cognitions are anthropomorphizing sensations into false meaning. No. we are forever haunted.

Push yourself, and you will grow, we are adaptable creatures. Our minds absorb the brunt of circumstantial externalities and forces. They conform to the challenges and grow in complexity. Throw yourself into hardship, with reckless abandon. Confusion, pain, and unfamiliarity are temporary illusions of weakness. Do not succumb to despair or opt for an extended approach. Commit to the pain and hardship and you will find a transformation of boundaries, internally and externally. Life changes, its flux is evident on any time scale. Our cognition is apart of this change. Limits will migrate continually, closer and farther from your potential. Recognize that your potential is every growing. You will surpass those limits, confines of the mind, and flow into thousands of potential seeds of opportunity. Push yourself. Hurl yourself. Sweat is the reward. It cleanses perspective.

Infiltrate society. Corrupt custom. Confuse tradition. Reinvention is bound, helpless to each inventor. Distort familiar ground. Remap well worn paths. Gather mindless spirits to join. They will have no choice but to think. There is no end in sight. Only adaptation and invention. Perpetual evolution and rebirth. Toss the puerile minds into a boiling pot and watch as they firm and harden. Let nature corrupt mans manipulation. Let understanding wallow in neurosis. Nature is genius, overwhelming and paralyzing our imagination. Acceptance is not progress, it is pride. Attach with instinct but be wary of certainty. Open the gates of passion. Channel natures deliberate zephyrs onto our kindled spirit. Reignite our blaze. Life is not controlled. It is natural and wild, like our fiery spirit. Do not stifle its flame. Throw dampening constraints elsewhere.

Burn, baby, burn.

Wow. My life, quite literally, the past 30.5 hours has consisted of:
3 hours of eating.
4 hours of sleeping
4 hours of exams, Psci and Econ.
19.5 hours of studying.

I shit you not. No generous numbers here. I can here break down the studying:
4 hours of Political Science
5 hours for Geology
10.5 hours for Economics.

Now, on Saturday, I woke at 12ish, and worked on a paper from 1:00pm to 3:30am, stopping only for a to go dinner. That’s 13.5 hours to finish a 12 page paper.

This is a reminder that I can study like a champ whenever I need to, and that if I ever make an excuse why I can’t buckle down, I should be ashamed of the potential I’m robbing myself.

I also know that I never want to experience this kind of cramming again. This could have been easier if A) I didn’t have to reschedule all my exams because of a prof that mis-scheduled our exam and they reschedule it with a week until exams- after I booked my flight a month ago , and B) I studied half this hard throughout the entire semester.

I don’t wanna social life. I wanna be a obsessed with learning and academics again.

So I’m ready to sleep a lil before I work on my last two exams. My eyes burn tho. I need to let them close for a little bit.

Self-recollection: Amiel

“[The] capacity for self-recollection — for withdrawal from the outward to the inward — is in fact the condition of all noble and useful activity. If the sailor did not carry with him his own temperature he could not go from the pole to the equator, and remain himself in spite of all. The man who has no refuge in himself, who lives, so to speak, in his front rooms, in the outer whirlwind of things and opinions, is not properly a personality at all. He is one of a crowd, a taxpayer, an elector, an anonymity, but not a man.

He who floats with the current, who does not guide himself according to higher principles, who has no ideal, no convictions — such a man is a mere article of the world’s furniture — a thing moved, instead of a living and moving being — an echo, not a voice. The man who has no inner life is the slave of his surroundings, as the barometer is the obedient servant of the air at rest, and the weathercock the humble servant of the air in motion.”

— Henri Frederic Amiel


I’ve been thinking an awful lot lately. Since I picked up a small pocket journal, I find myself much more at ease with my thoughts. They escape effortless in the moment. I will write an update though. Finals are next week. Two essays and three exams. I have begun studying. Tomorrow is the last official day of classes. Friday is a reading day… but its packed with exam review sessions so its basically like another day of classes. Um… I have so much on my mind. I have been giving a lot of thought to ‘place’… as well as ‘space’ (in the relational sense) and ‘time’. Can time be polluted? I think so. I think civilization has droned out the harmony by reducing space and accelerating time.

Maps. Some say the world is small. Some say its large. I believe our conception of nature’s vastness is limited by knowledge, experience, analogy. A world is defined by these limitations… however finite or infinite. What need of maps? Geographic coordinates? Did indigenous peoples lend a care to such definitions in their world? And how vast was their’s?

work in 5 hours. bed.


The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing. One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvelous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery every day. Never lose a holy curiosity.

Albert Einstein quotes

When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be. ~ Lao Tzu

If you keep doing what you’ve always done you’ll keep getting what you’ve always gotten. You cannot remain as you are and become something greater.

Kant’s Deontological Ethics in Sum.

I. Kant begins The Grounding of the Metaphysics of Morals by reducing the self to reason in order to understand the foundations of right thought. He concludes that at the base of one’s thoughts, there is an intention or will that is at the core of self.

A good will is the only qualification for good action. Kant says: “A good will is good not because of what it effects or accomplishes, nor because of its fitness to attain some proposed end; it is good only though its willing, i.e., it is good in itself.” That is, a good will is good in itself, independent of any requirements that would make it good. Kant goes on to justify this by explaining that even if good will failed to achieve its end through action, it would still retain its value as good will because of its good intention.

Continue reading “Kant’s Deontological Ethics in Sum.”

Food fur thought.

Someone wrote:

“The man who has no inner life is a slave to his surroundings.” ~Henri Frédéric Amiel

Then it follows that the man who has no outer life is a slave to himself. Is slavery to everything outside of an imaginary boundary less preferable to slavery within that same boundary?

I responded:


It is more preferable to be a slave to yourself, the inner life that constitutes the imagination and passion and reason, then to be a slave to your surroundings, which is characterized by foreign expectations and demands.

I thought about this for awhile. I need to think about this for a while longer. Not sure if I fully agree with my response. I don’t like the inferences the question makes on the quote.

I should have mentioned that this boundary isn’t imaginary, but very real. Among other things.

Writing. Process.

Sitting in a room. Alone.

Two adjacent chalkboards hang at the corner of the room. A library bookshelf filled with very old philosophy books ranging from behavioralism to phenomenology sits caddy corner. On my right, there’s a large canvas painting depicting an ocean view from a deck, outfitted with a table for two covered by a red tablecloth; place settings and chilled wine wait patiently for the guests.

The walls of the room are made of decrepit brick. There is a long table at the center of the room. I sit at its head. I view toward the end of the room and peer out the lone window into the darkness.

The room is located on the second floor in a small classroom at the back of the building. I am the only one left. The building is large and foreboding, characterized by thick gray stonework and archetypal Gothic architecture. The cloistered main entrance is guarded on either side by two large embattlement towers topped with crenels and merlons. Furman.

Its 1:30am. I need to finish this paper. I need to concentrate. Need. To. Concentrate. Kant. Hypothetical Imperatives. Formulations of humanity. Formulations of Autonomy. Perfect and Imperfect Duties. When will the madness stop.

While I absolutely love Kant, his readings are torturous. At least starting out. After I spend like four hours with the text, it comes alive and I can actually makes sense of his precise vocabularly. That’s the thing, Kant is soooo vocabulary intensive. He uses strict definitions that make reading troublesome. You need to relearn the meaning of the words before you can read. Otherwise it makes no sense. But, once you spend time, and your mind acclimates to the new semantics, sentences become more clear. That’s another things- his sentences are unbearably long. Example: “All imperative are expressed by an ought and thereby indicate the relation of an objective law of reason to a will that is not necessarily determined by this law because of its subjective constitution (the relation of necessitation).” I mean… I understand it… but only because I’ve read the essay five times. Rearticulating his sentences is fun. poo.

Anyway… I like his way of formulating morality the bestest. At least when compared to those utilitarians or emotivists like Hume, Mill, Artistotle and the like. I do have some issues with Kant…though… I can’t really put what they are into words right now.

Anyway… onto the last four parts of this essay. Soooooon.


This is a journal from me. I have been sitting in my room for roughly 7 hours and 45 minutes, working on this Kant paper… since around 6:00pm. I’ve taken about an hours worth of breaks. My eyes feel like they’re pulsating, and my stomach has a hollow ache. The whole paper is shaping up nicely, but I dread the tedious process of anatomizing the minutia. And Kant is chocked full of it.

Me. I’m just gonna rant a lil. Hm… school ends in a 2.5 weeks… about.

I’m not freaking out about exams… yet. I probably should be. I’m just taking it day by day. While I usually spend an inordinate amount of time ruminating to myself, it’s picked up quite a bit since Thanksgiving break. I seem to have reached a new plateau (<-hate spelling that word). The field is level and my footing is firm.

I think I'm giving up the whole frat crap…aka reject the bid. I mean, I would have had a shit show with the whole scene in high school (For many jejune and inane reasons I don't need to elaborate on). And I won't knock it today… its fun. It offers a means to (re)establish your identity in an otherwise foreign land with new people. This is important. Not as important if you know who you are, I suppose. But I do see the value in it, and I refuse be one of those greek 'haters'. Different strokes for different folks.

My god am I tired. Its two in the morning… I have to wake up at 7… and I'm bent on getting this paper 75% finished tonight. fml.

So there's this girl. yea.. a girl. Normally I don't pay too much attention, but she's great. Mostly cause she's so damn nonchalant, yet playful curious. Of course she's beautiful… and intelligent. She a virtuoso from Yale. Got her master's before coming here to study English. She's 21. Its enticing.

What I find so fascinating is that, while I envisage her to be a wise and innocent woman, she's really your average youth, filled with normal juvenile considerations. Why is that fascinating? I guess because of how much I enjoy seeing my idealism melt away in the face of disappointment. This does not mean I am any less attracted to her, however. On the contrary, the melting idealism provides a kaleidoscope of new iridescent feelings to experience.

Regarding these juvenile considerations I speak of- I remember when I was not fully tainted by my inexorable indulgences. I remember I use to speak of every new experience, every new feeling and adventure, as if I were the first human traverse the unknown passages of youth and survive to tell about it. My eyes would widen, my voice would grow louder in excitement and suspense as I talked of girls, trite mischief, drugs… like they were a dark mystery that only few had the fortune of discussing.

Back to reflecting… I got myself a pocket sized journal. I've had them before but they were either an awkward size, too small or too large, or they were crappy quality that fell apart after a weeks of use. This one is purrrrfect. It's like a little dream catcher… but for thoughts. I just think to myself. Let the thoughts germinate awhile… and as soon as they're ready to take flight… I use my journal to impress them to paper. Its fun catching random thoughts. It also doubles for things that I remember randomly and always tell myself to write down, but never do.


This semester was expected. And because it was expected, it happened. That may not sound to mean much, but it sums it all up.


Berry: “Man can embody truth, but he cannot know it.” Yeats

No time to write. Much to do. Kant essay due in two days… haven’t started. Kant is intimidating. Relaying his writing seems a daunting task.

I read an essay by Wendell Berry, circa 1983, titled “People, Land, and Community”.

I beg anyone to go out of their way and spend time with this piece.

“Berry wants to convey the unnatural evolution that’s taken place within man and his surroundings. He emphasizes the necessity for a harmonious marriage between the the environment (land) and people- specifically their purpose. These relationships are complex and sustainable; ecological.

On page sixty-seven, Berry discusses two types of knowledge. The first type of knowledge is a harmony that is gleaned through the dynamics of love, often through a sufficient faith based commitment. On page seventy-five, when he talks of the introduction of technology and the tractor, he is referring to the second type of mechanical, quantifiable knowledge, one that introduces limitations and constraints into ones life. “…we will see that this second kind of knowledge invariable implies, and often explicitly imposes, limits upon the first kind: some possibilities must not be explored; some things must not be learned.”

The introduction of technology sabotages the natural ecological relationship between man and the land, not only physically but psychologically. The second type of knowledge, the quantifiable and technological, is inherently confined. It is limits resources to facts and figures, and considers only the economics of relationships. When the farmer introduces a piece of technology like a tractor, he imposes limits onto his first knowledge (a knowledge with no bounds), unsettling the natural harmony between his hands and the earth. The farmer has disrupted this fluid harmony by creating static relationships marked by exploitive demands characterized by haste and hurry and economic efficiency. The malignant effects seep from the farmer into his relationships within the community.

Essentially, what I believe Berry is getting at, is that placing our faith in technology, grounded in knowledge and information, we are enslaving ourselves. By creating a measurable, quantifiable world, a world dependent on technology, we establish limits on our psyche. We no longer see relationships. There is no longer fluidity. Harmony ceases to exist. We no longer experience a natural, ecological and homeostatic, symbiosis with the land, with the world.

Berry believes that we are not meant to understand such a world. He believes that the world’s complexities should be embraced on faith, and only then will a true marriage, a true unity, emerge.

Do I think technology has invaded my character and consciousness? Absolutely. It relates back the other question about distraction. Technology causes the mind to be constantly drawn to demanding, limited compartments of thought. Attention is drawn away from the essence of living, into an inimical drive for efficiency, dictated by the preservation of time and production. Rather than weaving it harmoniously together, it explicitly breaks up life into fragmented, seemingly manageable, pieces.

“The real—the human—knowledge is understood as implying and imposing limits, much as marriage does, and these limits are understood to belong necessarily to the definition of a human being.”