Author: William

Personal Commitments

“We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, therefore, is not an act but a habit.” -Aristotle

I am making some commitments to myself. There is no use putting off for tomorrow what can be done today. Some changes need to occur in my life, in my actions. In no particular order, I’m going to expatiate on some things I’ve been meaning to do, and why I desire to do them. Then, I will prioritize and organize them for execution.

Write everyday.
I need to write every day, be it philosophy, various events or happens, quandaries, inspiration, or whatever. For me, writing is life. It is an on going autobiographical account of the maturation of your thoughts and progress as a person. It helps contextualize and visualize the free floating immaterial swirling about in my head. My mind is like an atmosphere swirling with cool and warm currents of moisture. Ideas coalesce into clouds. When certain clouds gain enough mass, and churn and swirl and boil enough, lightning strikes as inspiration. I need to capture these clouds if I want to recreate that inspiration, in myself or others.
Additionally, writing is a skill. And like any other skill, it is refined through ongoing temperamental and deliberate practice. That means I need to attempt at writing my best, every day. Focus on the organization of thoughts, the poetics and prose of presentation, the clarity, the rococo, the rhetoric.
In my opinion, any life worth living is worth remembering. No thought is too trivial, or too important. They are all brush strokes that make up the larger canvas of your character. The fear of a single brush stroke defining your work, your character, will only prevent you from making more brush strokes.
I want to emphasize the importance of writing, and writing a lot. Any genius or man of great success in his field has had one defining characteristic: They produced, a lot. Even when no one was looking they were producing volumes of output in thought and action. Look at any great writer, any inventor, any businessman, any athlete, any scientist, any musician, any philosopher. Whether it was writing 2,500 words a day, coming up with five new inventions a day, examining markets every day or engaging in outstanding interpersonal skills with everyone they meet, practicing hours a day long after everyone left the field, conducting and publishing enormous amounts of research, playing for audiences and songwriting every available opportunity, or reading and contemplating the nature of truth and life every waking moment- they produced.

Visualizing goals
Not only have I been meaning to write down my goals, I have been meaning to create an environment that supports and forces me to think about my goals as often as possible. This means writing down my goals, posting them in locations where I will be forced to look and think about them, and telling people that will hold me accountable. I need to control my environment so that my thoughts are constantly oriented to their achievement.
Goals are cognizable desires. They are not simple emotions, but specific longings for specific destinations in character. No meaningful, worthwhile goal is achieved without a change is character, and its only when your character changes that other rewards and success fall to you, be it of material or immaterial value. Goals allow us to draw a map, construct a blueprint, compose a melody where there was none before. They transport us in ways that nothing else can. Only through goals can a person grow in character and consciousness with deliberation.
Having goals will only get someone so far. Visualizing goals is important. It is through visualization that we are able make them apart of our lives. It is through this visualization, this meditation, that we harness the power to control our lives by controlling our thoughts. This means taking time out of your day, every day, multiple times a day, and contemplating the nature of your goals, seeing them in your head, examining their idiosyncrasies, their personalities, their nature. If your goal is distinct and real, it will contain a multitude challenges before it is overcome and achieved. You must be familiar with these challenges so you can takes steps to prepare, be it psychologically or emotionally or physically.

Health and Physical Fitness
It is not enough to be healthy when its convenient. Health consciousness must be an ever present lifestyle. This means the elimination of vices such as food or chemical substances. Physical activity is necessary for a positive well being, not only in the now, but for the future which I am continually living into. There is no shortcut to living a well balanced life full of vitality.
If we really take time to appreciate all the environmental factors that influence us, we can leverage and utilize that knowledge for our benefit in two specific ways. We can maximize and stabilize our well being by ingesting only the most nutritious foods, and we can cleanse our body of toxins and negative hormones through rigorous physical activity. This will provide me with more energy and elevate my mood so that I give my best when conquering goals.

Time Management
A person will never find more time in a day. They must make more time. But how does one ‘make’ more time? Proper time management. This involves taking time out of ones day, every day, and laying
out priorities for accomplishment. This means parsing out specific time for specific tasks. Schedule everything: sleep, reflection, working out, reading, socializing, studying, writing, napping, errands, free time. You name it. If its not on your schedule, do not do it. Put it on tomorrows schedule. Do not change your schedule until the next day.
Life is made of time. If it were to stop, life would cease. We are all products of time; merely the exposure to stimulus that occurs with time. When you control your time, you control your life. That is when you gain self-mastery. Being creatures of habit, we must learn to control our habits. This is done by controlling our time. Habits are repeated actions. The more a person performs a thought or action, the more he will continuing performing that thought or action. It is like a piece of paper creased and folded repeatedly. Over time the paper has a natural tendency to bend at that crease. Likewise it is with our malleable minds. “We are what we repeatedly do” says Aristotle, “Excellence, therefore, is not an act but a habit.”

Spurious

The first step to gaining self-knowledge is to accept oneself as flawed. Flawed in every way, let nothing escape. When one approaches a situation or circumstance or problem, one must be willing to accept that while they are able to come up with a solution or explanation, they are most likely wrong, however detailed or thought out they believe themselves to be. We are blinded by our ego. By our defense of self preservation rather than truth. If you have never consider yourself wrong, you will never give yourself the opportunity to correct your habituated flaws. At this point, there is no hope. Now, before one sees this step leading to complete skepticism, I need to mention step two: Accept oneself as a creature of infinite possibility. In this way, we allow ourselves the hope to correct flaws.

Accepting oneself as flawed allows one to stop forward motion in faulty assumptions and flawed thinking, and pause. In other words, it invites reflection. Once we can resist the tendency (or desire) to project our reality and ‘be right’, and embrace ourselves as being devoid of all the facts, we can turn to the tools of possibility. These tools are reason and creativity. Together they create meaning and utility, relevancy and function.

Additionally, just because we accept ourselves as flawed does not mean that we can never come up with viable solutions. Many times solutions are not ultimate truths, but simply pragmatic fixes that consider time and circumstance.

The bottom line is this, I am wrong, you are wrong, we’re all wrong. People need to engage any perceived problem with this knowledge. The problem is usually not external, but internal, relating to some flawed attitude or perception of mind.

When there are dilemmas facing two or more people, everyone needs to collaborate and acknowledge that they cannot provide a solution without considering if that solution is compatible for someone else. Dialog must ensue. Everyone must adopt an attitude that emphasizes fresh possibility, that existing paradigms may not be the answer.

Time

I need feeling. I am listless. Aimless. Emotionally void of fiery passion at the moment. I haven’t been organizing my thoughts. Instead I’ve been putting them off, pretending that I’ve got it together, that my thoughts will take care of themselves without any upkeep. Thats as unrealistic as believing a garden could survive without regular natural or artificial irrigation. Nothing will grow, only stagnate and die.

Time. Time management. This ‘life’ we live in, this collection of vast experience that we poke around in, is nothing but a duration. A life is nothing tangible, your experiences and memories and relationships and achievements are all a product of time. Nothing happens without a measurable duration.

The more I value my time, the more I value my life. How I spend my time defines how I spend my life. It defines what I think about, my associates, strengths, weaknesses, loves, passions, skill, etc. Time dictates and develops what I am good at, and what I’m bad at. If I don’t spend any time studying, or learning, there is no way I will be a knowledgeable person. If I spend one hour, that will yield proportional results. If I spend 4 hours, my life will be that much more molded by that exposure.

That’s what its all about. Exposure. Impressions. Memories. Sensory stimulation. The longer I subject my senses, my thoughts, to an end or goal, the deeper rooted those impressions become. The stronger they become, the more unwavering they are. Equally, the more they gain priority in my thoughts. Even casual thoughts and dreams can pervade and alter your world view.

If one could program his life by allotting hours toward honing skills and/or knowledge based on 24 hours a day, whereas the collective hours-allotted result in exponential gains in that area, how or what would we really spend our life doing, or thinking? By spreading the hours too thin one wouldn’t gain any deep knowledge or refine skills that are better than anyone else’s. By spending too much time in a specific area of development, one would gain an exceptional, almost genius, level of insight. On the other hand, too much in one area would jeopardize the development of many, maybe pragmatic or emotional skills needed for social integration.

The fact is, when we take control of our lives, we can design our being, and plan our life and its development. When we accept ultimate responsibility for our lives, for our time and decisions (or lack thereof), we are able to literally program ourselves and unlock potential in any area, whether its in the realm of knowledge or intelligence or relationships or success or money or emotions or whatever.

But what stops us from making the decision? Lack of will? Lack of drive? Are we too comfortable? Have we grown too content, too pacified by our circumstance. Are we settling for average and mediocre results? A life that blends seamlessly together with everyone else but fails to possess originality or utility or beauty? That functions like all the other threads stranded and weaved side by side, but never stands out?

Do we play it safe? Are we afraid of failure? Our inadequacy? The hardship? The rejection? Perhaps we are terrified that we possess limitations? Perhaps that is the most damaging fear of all.

And I quote

“A goal is not always meant to be reached, it often serves simply as something to aim at.”
— Bruce Lee

“Reading good books is like having a conversation with the most distinguished men of past ages.”
— Rene Descartes, Discourse on the Method

I have been very fortunate in worldly matters; many men have worked much harder, and not succeeded half so well; but I never could have done what I have done, without the habits of punctuality, order, and diligence, without the determination to concentrate myself on one object at a time, no matter how quickly its successor should come upon its heels, which I then formed.
-David Copperfield by Charles Dickens

One of the new things people began to find out in the last century was that thoughts–just mere thoughts–are as powerful as electric batteries–as good for one as sunlight is, or as bad for one as poison.
-The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett

Philosophy

“One must […] take refuge in philosophy; this pursuit, not only in the eyes of good men, but also in the eyes of those who are even moderately bad, is a sort of protecting emblem. For speechmaking at the bar, or any other pursuit that claims the people’s attention, wins enemies for a man; but philosophy is peaceful and minds her own business. Men cannot scorn her; she is honoured by every profession, even the vilest among them. Evil can never grow so strong, and nobility of character can never be so plotted against, that the name of philosophy shall cease to be worshipful and sacred.

Philosophy itself, however should be practised with calmness and moderation.
”
— Seneca: Moral letters to Lucilius, Letter 14

Shadows

In any case life is but a procession of shadows, and God knows why it is that we embrace them so eagerly, and see them depart with such anguish, being shadows.

Jacob’s Room by Virginia Woolf
***********
I’ve been giving a lot of thought to Plato’s allegory of the cave. This notion of freedom is perplexing. Does freedom extend solely to the body, or to the mind, or both?

If you are locked in a room, and you have no desire of escape, are you free?

Something about this question doesn’t sit right with people. There is an injustice subsiding in the background. But why?

If you are in a room that is unlocked, and you have no desire of escape, are you free?

Somehow, this question ameliorates some of this injustice.

What if that room is unlocked, but you don’t know that you can leave, are you free?

All these questions are analogous to society and the people, to inherited beliefs and accepted customs and histories. There are the naturally ravenous people, culpable of war and conflict when left to their own devices, and then there is the sovereign state that provides peace and stability and security, which we obey merely because of our belief in its authority. But where does this authority come from? A social contract subjugating our absolute freedom in exchange for security?
***********
This post got political, but the point I was originally trying to illustrate is that we are all brainwashed. Anyone who endorses society, the tastes and preferences of the masses, is disillusioned. Words such as Freedom and Equality are the opiates of the masses.

People demand freedom of speech as a compensation for the freedom of thought which they seldom use.”
— Søren Kierkegaard

I suppose the alternative is anarchy, survival of the fittest. If we must sacrifice our will for a sovereign government, it may as well be for a stable one.

But who is this government? What makes us believe governments aren’t survival of the fittest on a grand scale of centralized power? Have we been duped into believing we are free, when in fact we are actually slaves? Mere workhorses for the few conducting an economic system responsible for gathering resources as a means of retaining power?

Shadows. We are all grasping at shadows.

Perspective

“Circumstantial evidence is a very tricky thing,” answered Holmes thoughtfully. “It may seem to point very straight to one thing, but if you shift your own point of view a little, you may find it pointing in an equally uncompromising manner to something entirely different.”

The Boscombe Valley Mystery by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Lacunae

I developed many relationships this summer. Some were cultivated from existing bonds, while others were wholly new. There was one girl in particular who I got to know this summer whom I shared a unique curiosity for. We related on a certain level. She mentioned off hand one day that her brother was suffering from depression. Given my extensive past with matters such as depression and suicide, I inquired further in hopes of uncovering any potential risks or allaying any apprehensions. She explained his struggle as a Iraq war veteran reeling from post traumatic stress, as well as his other perceived failures as a person. I told her to talk with her brother. To reach out. No one can possibly know the abysmal mind of another man. We must take time to probe the depths and find the core of their true self. Long story short, she talked with her brother, the first time in years. She let me know and thanked me. She was hopeful that their relationship was improving. I expressed my joy in their reconnection. Last Tuesday she phoned me and informed me that her brother killed himself. I’ve since been providing what limited comfort I have to offer. She asked me to join their family this afternoon at the airport as they wait to receive his body. She needs support that does not provide pity, but hope and understanding.

Brief thoughts.

We are what we think. I decided that I fully endorse determinism. If there was no determinism, there would be no statistics. Nor would there be mathematics or any logic and laws of thought. However, we know that these operating principles serve as necessary conditions for reason, and without them we would know nothing. Reason, coherence, dialectic procession would be fantastical.

I am a determinist. I have been shaped by my circumstance; by my parents, my geography, my peers, my language, my history, my culture, my education, my nutrition, my government, my time, my birth, my name, my siblings, my world. I am a victim, a mere product, a result, of mechanical circumstantial processes. Do not let this intimidate you. I am unique, wholly unique, there is none like me, nor will there ever be another in my likeness. I contain experience, and physical and genetic material that allows me to actualize and respond to my world most appropriate to my survival.

This notion of free will was implanted by some sardonic hedon. There is no free will. Free will is a fabricated conception,

So after a long line of processes that afford up with

bed sleepy

Memoria; oblivionem

We are apt to think that our lives are shaped by memories, by the multifarious impressions left by experience. While this seems intuitive, we overlook the forgotten, the oblivion that we are, which shapes the current moment. We are much less than the memories, and much more of the oblivion. The process of forgetting is much more instrumental in shaping our being. What we are is of little matter when looking at what we are not.

There is a perpetual disassociation that occurs to my being, an infinite splicing that happens to me, which leaves a residue of alienation. While I occupy the moment, there is a person that trails behind who I cannot escape and who I am a stranger to. People speak his name in my direction, recall his attributes as if they possess me, appeal to a person who is a stranger. Michael contains far more than I am, and I contain far less than he is.

School Momentum

School has begun. I figure I better keep up with this life log. I journaled intermittently over the summer in my paper journals. The length of entries was hindered by the time constraints of long hand. Typing provides a smoother transition for ideas. There is something about connecting your fingers to a keyboard, thinking the words out loud in your head, and watching them appear on the screen in front of you.

I’m taking a few philosophy classes and a couple economics classes. Currently feeling unsatisfied with my habits of mind. I need to clean up the vision of myself. I need to recreate myself through pursuing persistent goals. Blah. I’m coming to a cross roads…a mental crossroads. I feel like I am settling far too easily. As comfortability sets it, I sense an ease of mind that leaves me feeling too complacent.

I don’t mean to think too much about it. I just need to remind myself of action. Action. Application. Nothing happens by chance. There are no accidents.

My mind. I need to generate. Ideas. Zest. Passion. Creativity. Something different. I need to construct a better internal world for myself.

Nausea

Have you ever experienced a sudden ‘coming-to’, where an utter repulsion sweeps over your body? An unfamiliarity stings the air and you become uncomfortable with your place and time. The walls, the paint, the clothes, the people. All strange and repulsing. Anxious and aware, you are lost in the scenery. You’ve created this world, and yet you are disgusted with the way it has unfolded. A sickness sweeps over you. The desire to refuse it all begins to glow. Nausea turns to anger, to bitterness, to helplessness.

Disingenuine

I want to start calling shit as it is. Fake. Disingenuine. Fuck it all. I hate 90% of what I see. Is it my problem… probably. I dont give a shit. I want to plow over it. Its so superficial. So plastic. so temporal. so much bullshit. I’m lyin in bed typin without my eyes open. I dont care if this reads coherently or not. I hate everything. Fuck it all. I broke up with my girlfiend this evening. Not because I didndt care for her, but because I didnt think she cared for me. Is that wrong? I’m not sure but im fucked up. .

Ideas

Solicit for a mentor on campus:
-good quality character, similar aspirations, self-less,

Create a mentor program (see if Vanderbilt has one)

The economics of relationships- write book
– making yourself scarce… Increases demand
– you are a luxury good, not a normal good: differentiate
– too scarce, demand drops, too much supply, demand decreases
–

We live in a world (time) of ideas (information)
– google searches and brings ideas to you
– Facebook shares ideas socially
– web pages market ideas
– email sends ideas
The new entrepreneurs deal in a market of ideas/ information
The best will have the most creative and innovative ways of making new information available, and sharing it effectively

Free will bs determinism
-logic, reason would not exist if not for determinism. Determinism lends to predictions. Intelligence,
Without a deterministic universe, we would not be able to answer expectations,
If God knows all, the universe is deterministic. All can be predicted. There is no free will. If he does not know all, he is not god.

ruminations

Can we control or dictate wants, desires, and motivations? Are they hardwired?
Ultimately, possibly. But one cannot confuse the means and the ends. Do wants, desires, motivations simply function as means, driving us toward the assimilation of thoughts and actions, or are they ends in themselves? If the latter, hope may be out of arms reach.

Can one know an idea by another name? Certainly; as well as objects, subjects and places.
Jesus is a name. Existing ethereally, Can one know know Jesus, his message and power, before knowing his name? The concept accompanying the name Jesus exists simply as a universally magnetic idea containing commonalities.

Personal development- designing, constructing, and programming the brain, the psyche, the path that is life.
All is hinged on wants, desires, longings- demands- real or perceived. One must subjugate the mind’s chaff, manipulate the content of experience, promulgate explicit ends and judicate the means.

Computers- why they can disadvantageous: computers can foster limited analytic reasoning, in so far as the user explores the bounds of the computing system, but one can go no further. These systems are closed, precognized and therefore require no creative acts from the user. With persistence, one simply pushes his/her way around until the parameters become known. It places the mind in a cage, so to speak, which limits unknowns and, as a result, the freedom to creatively respond to those unknowns.

You possess your thoughts; do not let your thoughts possess you

Live rich in spirit

Plant Root

Work wears me out. I’m gonna hit the gym in a few.

The vicissitudes of certainty and doubt. These undulations ebb and flow as I continually plant knowledge gathered from the uprooting of doubt.

One needs to be certain of something before any reference and relation can be held to it. Without certainty, skepticism and doubt will lead to eventual nihilism and nonsense, and no knowledge will be gained. However, if one holds too firmly to certainty, he is likely to grow in self-deception. I often find myself at a cross roads of balance.

**

I need to apply myself to more focused ratiocinations. I should choose a few topics within a few subjects to spend my time exploring. Recently my mind has been all over the place, and no specific cultivation has taken place.

I need to make time to write. These little entries are nice and all, but I have so much to get out and expound upon. Too tired.

The Brothers Karamazov is an amazing book. Highly psychological. Highly philosophical. Highly recommended. Next book is Nausea by Sartre. Just arrived in the mail a few days ago. When I’m finished with that one I’ll be picking up Brave New World by Huxley.

Write more later. Gym time.

Free ever.

When the man is right, his world will be right. Many think of changing the world, but few think of changing themselves. You do not get what you want, you get what you are.

These few sentences encapsulate a large part of my world view.

Man is not free. He is a slave to himself- his vices, prejudices, knowledge, ignorance, desires. Only when we learn to become master’s of ourselves can we become master’s of our world, that is, our life.

True freedom is achieved through knowledge and self-awareness. This is achieved through continuous study of the world and ardent introspection.

****

I’ve noticed a common theme that has developed over the course of the past few years. The theme is that of indifference. It revolves around mastering the self-control to act and react when it is most appropriate.

People find it insensitive when I ask why they get so upset when someone does something to them, or does something that they don’t like, or says something that rubs them the wrong way. People should not react to thoughts or actions that are negative, or have a negative effect on them. By reacting, one endorses or legitimizes that thought or action in themselves, and in the other person. Instead, one should maintain an indifference.

Gotta go. More thoughts later.

Society

As much as I knock society, I haven’t been very good at coming up with my own viable prescriptions for the problems. I will take time, however long it takes, to expatiate on the ideal society. In this way I think I can make realistic assertions about the feasibility of such societal ideals.

Hm. Going to a vegetarian cuisine restaurant with few buds and my sis. I believe its called “woodlands”. Great indian restaurant.

Last night after the gym we had a pasta and baked beans dinner at my sisters. Afterwards we sat around and discussed life, philosophy, society, goals, success, love, love lost, relationships, ideals, etc. It was a truly amazing experience. Almost like a dinner society. It made me want to surround myself with more people like them… people that gave thought to the details of life, who cherished how they spent every moment of their waking life. People who actually put thought into their day, their free moments. Who make the most of the spectrum of feelings at their disposal. etc. I want sophistication and culture and intellect. Anyway… I’m so tired, and dinner is calling.

Lake Weekend.

This weekend I accompanied Haley to visit her family at their lake house in Nancy KY.

Long story about Haley and I. I’ll explain when I’m not tired and I don’t have work at 8am.

It was fun. Great time reading and soaking up sun on the lake.

I want to become refined. Sophisticated. Intellectually so. Cultured. What do these things mean? More later.

I feel like our culture is recycled. Society is recycled. Ideas, style, designs, systems. Its all reused. No more originality. No new material, new content; just material being reused, recombined, resynthesized.

We need people who will reinvent. Like.. Create from scratch. Pose new problems, new dilemmas.

I’m reading the Brothers Karamazov. Holy shit is that an amazing book.

Weekbegin.

I had a great weekend. On Friday I got out of work and went to the movie Inception. Fabulously thrilling movie. I thought i started off a bit slow and erratic, but it picked up after the first half hour. Afterwards my sister, Ravi and I went to Cafe Coco and ate food and had good conversation. I get home around 315 and go to bed.

At 350 I hear yelling and banging on our door… like crazed bloody murder. I wait and try to make out the mayhem, listening in for any coherent message. It’s my room mate and he’s yelling crazy shit about me. I listen carefully and creep out of my room, trying to figure out what door this is coming from. Without turning on the lights, I quietly walk towards the kitchen and see a figure on the back porch. I stealthily step outside into the dark and the adrenaline takes over. My room mate is smashed, black out drunk. I stiffen and watch him in the shadows momentarily before breaking his sottish silence. “What the fuck are you doing?” My voice is low, forceful, irritated.

His drunken preoccupations melt away as his dull wan eyes meander towards mine. His black out rage quickly turns to a shameful confusion as he slowly gains traction of the situation.

I was not in a position to wait around for him to get it together so I dismiss his rambling explanations and order him inside. As the epinephrine wears off, a piercing pain occurs to me, followed by the realization that I’m barefoot and treading on a piles of shard glass. Holding the screen door open, I reach inside and flick on the porch light. The screen door in my hand is noticeably bent at such an odd degree that I’m left wondering how its still attached to the frame. Its window appears to be missing, which accounts for the sharded glass penetrating the soles of my feet. I also notice that the door frame is split pretty severely.

Skipping along…

While my room mate attempts to tinker and unsuccessfully lock the back door, I explain in my most rudimentary tone why our door is broken and why there is glass everywhere, in my feet, in his hands, in our kitchen. He refuses to hear what I’m saying and only repeats in a low disappointed voice, almost to himself, “I didn’t do this. This is not good. This is not good at all. Oh boy. Not good. Uh oh. I didn’t do this. Not good at all.” Being the simple creature that my room mate is, this drunk charade almost made laugh, and would have if it wasn’t 430 in the morning and I wasn’t bleeding out the feet.

Long story short, after fifteen minutes of him being drunk and stupid and loud, and not going to bed, and getting aggressive with me, I flip out, and go crazy, and threaten to lose my cool, and order him to go to bed using my meanest battle vocals. We stared at each other, motionless, red in the face and he utters in a drunken slur, “You better get a handle on that,” and turns to go to his room before slamming the door in an awkward attempt to show his disapproval.

With a nervous relief I sighed and sought refuge under my covers.

On Saturday I went to las paletas, a latin American Popsicle store… the Popsicles were amazing… to die for. They had the most exotic flavors… Mexican caramel, avocado, rice, strawberry raspberry, kiwi, cafe, etc. Cream or ice. It was amazing. From there we went to costco and bought groceries…

Following costco we tried finding this store called the green wagon… its a really hipster/ hippy convenient store… they refill empty bottles with detergent or shampoo or soap or whatever… they also have all locally produced goods such as clothing and art and appliances and other random stuff.

After that we picked up some friends and went to Cheekwood botanical gardens to see the famed blown glass artist Chihuly’s exhibit. Unfortunately it closed at 430 on Saturday. We wanted to see the exhibit during the day with natural light and in the evening magically illuminated. It’s suppose to be numinously divine. Since that was closed we just drove around the country side, through Percy Warner park, and admired some mansions dotted along the way. Magnificent day, perfect temperature.

That evening Haley’s sister and room mate were celebrating their birthday’s at a sushi restaurant… so I couldn’t pass it up. I went with Ravi… had octopus and squid sushi… mixed with a variety of other tasty fish like salmon, yellow fin and eel. it was pretty darn good.

After dinner I picked up beer, took a shower, and met up with them at their house for her birthday party. It was small but fun. I stayed with a few bros for awhile, entertained some people with dialogue and my two beer queer antics then departed for a part with my frat bros. I brought Haley and her sister along, against my best judgment. Haley had taken shots of tequila and she gets insane when she drinks. Considering we hadn’t talked too much the past week I know she had a lot pent up, but I thought I would give her the benefit of the doubt. Bad Idea. We get to the house and I walk in, screaming and yelling with enthusiasm as I’m greeted warmly by my bros. About 30 min in I find out Haley starts losing it. Long story short, she starts having an emotional break down and insists on leaving. I was reluctant until her voice started cracking and I could hear the anger seething through her teeth. I said lets go… but she wanted to go out the back door… because… she was upset and… couldn’t get herself together for 20 ft. Whatev. As soon as we walk out the door she begins flipping out. screaming, yelling profanities,

I go back inside and say fuck it. She’s nuts. I don’t need this. Ravi comes to me 10 min later explains shes out front. I go out front and cautiously approach her with concern. I ask what’s up, what happened, etc…She flips out, attacks me. Again, I say fuck it and drive her home.

I come back to the party and joke about her womanly hysteria. Soon after we make plans to walk 5 blocks to Dan McGuiness.

Long story short, some underage girls can’t get in so a group got together to go downtown. I hop in their cab and head to Rippy’s.

Eventually we abandon Broadway and walk to Lonnies in printers ally. I’m drunk and get adventurous. I also lose all fiscal responsibility and head for an ATM. Munchies. I walk outside with Ravi. A man with a hot dog stand conveniently awaits me. What was once a crisp $20 bill is now a crumbled sweaty ball of paper that I shove into the vendors hand. I grab a hot dog, drench it in condiments. He hands me what looks like change and I stuff it into my pocket. We then proceed to walk next door into a Jazz Club. A large black bouncer awaits us. No cover. Sweet. I flash my ID. He inspects then gives me the OK. My 20 year old friend coolly hands over his ID. I strike up conversation about food. “Do you have food in this joint?” I asked intently, trying to sway his attention from my underage friend. He responds, and I nod and smile as we inch our way further inside. He returns the ID, we slowly breaking the cordial conversation and disappear into the crowd. We’re in. Woot.

I don’t remember the rest really… I remember I wanted to get a cab… but my friend didn’t want to pay 12 bucks…. so he convinced me to walk 7 miles across the city back to my car. Initially it was a good idea. Fellow drunkards kept us company along the way as they walked back to parking lots or their apartments along the string. Before long though we were pretty alone, and it was pretty late, and I was pretty not-drunk-but-still-drunk… like hungover, and feeling miserable. I stopped at PitaPit and entertained the entire establishment, staff and customers alike, with my curious antics. The food was good company until it was gone.

I remember I kept wanting to get to my car, where ever that was, really fast so I’d take off in full sprint for a block, leaving my friend confused and running and yelling after me. This would soon turn into exhaustion as my drunken wings became inflamed,  and the breath of cool air turned to fire belching from the lungs, and I’d collapse on the sidewalk, or under a random tree, for a nap, totally sapped of energy. My friend would come upon me short of breath and poke me. Sometimes he’d nap along with me for a few minutes. He always kept pushing me to keep pushing on, so we’d get up and do it over again.

WE walked past a marriot hotel at one point. He mentioned air-conditioning and I shot right through the lobby and into a dimly lit breakfast area strewn with couches, TV’s, and fruit. Feeling like a clever bum, I kicked off my shoes and made myself at home. Ravi found me and giggled at the hilarity of the situation. We watched the news. Some guy walks in and Ravi tries rouses me by convincing me that he was security coming to get me. In a half sleep I pop up, throw on my shoes and dive in the shadows. I creep along the breakfast hall area and stop to pluck myself a apple from the fruit basket before slipping out onto the balcony and over the railing into the street. Don’t remember much. This was like mile 4. I do remember having to urinate at one point. Because it was 3 in the morning and not a soul was in sight, I thought it was a fantastic idea, being in the middle of the city and everything, to try out ‘Pee walking’. This just consisted of me continuing my usual pace while urinating in various directions with an artistic talent that was lent to the sidewalk designs that followed.

All I know is I made it back to my car at some point, and I felt sober. So I drove the remaining 3 miles home.

The remainder of my weekend….Too much to detail: wake up. Explore east ‘Hipster Nashville with my sister and Ravi. Go to green cow veggie restaurant.

Eventually:
haley comes over, apologizes. make up sex.

That afternoon: I Golf. It was awesome. and beautiful.

Dinner.

Call haley.

Bed.

My weekend.

burning.

I didn’t save much free time for myself today. I need to be much more efficient with my time… First: go to bed earlier. I can’t believe I’m still up.

I need to go to the gym earlier and eat dinner earlier. How am I suppose to have any free time to read or write if all I do is work, lift and eat?

I haven’t talked to the girlfriend… although she contacted our mutual friend and expressed her hysteria. He asked me how he should respond… this got me a little upset. Upset in that, what the fuck is she doing. Give me space, woman. Get a life… stop thinking in crisis mode. Everything is alright…I just need time to breath and collect my thoughts. We’re young here… its not like we’re married or have been dating for years. Chill the fuck out.

Anywho…

I read news articles allll day I work. I have a program on my iphone that allows me to listen to free audio books. All the free ones are older, written by authors that have long since past away. I mostly download the philosophy or psychology ones.

I also have this program that lets me download ebooks… again, only old and outdated…. but they are my favorite anyway. I should cease reading the news and begin asking questions… and find books to answer those questions… and read them. Thats what I should do. The last book I did that with was Radical Empiricism by William James regarding consciousness and epistemology and experience. Fascinating…. and I still need to finish.

The news seems so impending recently… we are at the precipice of worldwide calamity and everything seems to be converging simultaneously. Or thats how the news likes to portray it to invoke an emotional response from the readership in order to sell their paper. Anyway…

My eyes are heavy and burning. Bed time. Night.

quandary

Men go abroad to wonder at the heights of mountains, at the huge waves of the sea, at the long courses of the rivers, at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motions of the stars, and they pass by themselves without wondering. ~St. Augustine

I need problems in my life. I mustn’t think that I’ve got it figured out, or that my current path or methods are best. I need to recognize dilemmas and confront problems that don’t seem so obvious.

I realized that, when I am happy, I become content. Not that I cannot become content with certain pursuits, but it seems that my zest for certain pursuits begins to dwindle when happiness and contentment come over me.

Girlfriends really are draining. I often think that I will be single for the rest of my life. In my mind there is a women that is without maintenance, without upkeep. She doesn’t rely on my efforts to make her happy, nor does she seek them out.

My life recently…

I’ve had this girlfriend for some time now…. a couple months. Early on I perceived some emotional baggage, potential issues that may pose as problems later on in the relationship, but I overlooked them with an optimistic eye. I had hoped that these issues would soon allay as our bonds deepened for one another. I’m not sure that happened and I’m sorta done with exercising patience. I don’t want to be responsible for someone else’s happiness. If I make you sad because you expected differently from me, because I didn’t make you happy, or I failed to cuddle, or I lacked affection a few nights in a row, then I’m not sure I want to be in a relationship with you. Too much pressure. I’m in the opinion that my happiness comes from within, despite circumstances, despite the emotional investment.

The bottom line is that I really don’t want to be with this person. Primarily because I am not attracted to who this person thinks she is. I am attracted to someone else… someone she could be. Unfortunately she doesn’t see that person, and I don’t have the patience for it. Her critical attitude, complaining and low self esteem do not bring me up, nor do they make her any more attractive to me. Instead, they reaffirm negative perceptions and draw criticism into my thoughts. I don’t want to spend time with someone who isn’t capable of seeing the best in the world, in others, or in themselves.

I recognize that this comes off as hypocritical. I should see the best in her, and I do, but her attitude has an insidious grip on my state of being, on my mood. It saps my energy and doesn’t leave me in a better place. I’d much rather devote my time and energy to someone who is earnestly searching for the best in themselves and outside themselves. Maybe I’m suppose to lead this girl there… but I just haven’t the patience.

****

Work is good… and when I say good, I mean monotonous and boring. However, it allows me to cognize and discuss thoughts with my fellow interns. I always have something on my mind.

*****

I’ve been reading a great deal about the negative impact on computers and the internet and the positive impacts of books recently.

I need chaos in my life. Homeostasis must NEVER be reached. I must always throw off the balance, perceived or real, and approach life as a crisis to be solved. Only in this way does life become meaningful and challenging. What life is there for me at the moment? Working, interning, cultivating future aspirations and networking ties. I am bleeding my critical thinking and creative insights dry on a daily basis. There is no intellectual stimulation within my routine.

The occasional news article, or chapter from a book, but nothing substantial to dwell on. No problems that need solving. I should learn economics more fully. I should read Bertrand Russell and William James, and master logic and prose and poetry and painting. Why don’t I?

I don’t want a girlfriend. This girl has sapped my attention, my free time, or what little free time I’ve had. And for what? Emotional pleasure? Ephemeral gratification? I would like my energy expenditures to be more rewarding. What is a relationship that yields pleasure, but no great intellectual, or emotional, insights? Where is her curiosity? Ugh. I’m done with it. I’ve decided now, in this moment.

I need to journal more. I’ve had little time to myself, and I should have all the time in the world. Summer is the occasion for personal development, for the cultivation of internal growth. Working out, getting fit, is wonderful and all, but the mind must find similar attention and stimulation.

I’ve been frustrated recently. I should journal out all these thoughts, all the daily occurrences. I will… everyday. Starting today. Night.

Roosevelt

“It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.”

“Citizenship in a Republic,”
Speech at the Sorbonne, Paris, April 23, 1910

Teddy Roosevelt

numinous.

I have a tendency to sound sententious. Forgive me.

My generation, and all those proceeding mine, have me embarrassed. I have been born into a time and place where people are no longer hungry to survive, nor are they hungry to thrive. The great majority of my peers are no longer hungry. What scintilla of hunger remains is reserved for idleness. They are pathetic, passive, consumers, hungry for leisure and ease.

Daily I delve into a commotion circulating society, void of zest, void of passion, void of purpose.

Advertising, academics , entertainment, all woo the willful intellect into a lullaby, a deep slumbering recant.

Our lives are not our own. We have lost ourselves, our traditions, our roots, our history and heritage, to the media, to the experts. We are no longer fit to brave life’s excursions without a guiding figure. Uncharted territories exist in a space beyond us and our imagination. We are not fit for such adventure. So we suspend the will to live, forfeit the alms for something greater. Where bridges would be, we spend our lives building walls and cling to our emaciated dreams.

There is no personal history, no family, no origin. We are nationals, Americans, raised by television, the Internet, our schools, our jobs. Starved of new light, our conscience shirks in the penumbra. We are drones.

How do you wake up a nation cultivating and perpetuating its own poison? How do you lay claim to an intellect defined: circumscribed and standardized. What is will? what is freedom? Notions lost to the strong and gifted, a chance missed by all but a few.

In a word, Emerson said ‘A man is what he thinks about all day long.’

Given this description, what state do we find ourselves?

I talk to young minds who have never developed the ability to question. They never ask whether they are on the right path, whether their beliefs are toxic delusions, whether their behaviors and habits will reap negative consequences, or consequences at all.

What becomes of a man who does the minimum in school to get by, who watches TV in his free time, who absorbs societies prescriptions for his health, wealth, future, happiness? Four hours of TV a day? Six hours of TV? Never mind the trash, the propaganda, celebrated on television as glorified miscreants who are impoverished in spirit. Hours of mindless internet surfing? Playing mindless video-games that envelope the consciousness, sucking its attention into a digital world of no consequence?

What will become of our future leaders? Who will follow them? The zombie fascination is a prescient of our future condition.

TV, Mass media, even the beloved science community, has led us to believe a lie. Everywhere we move but rarely do we progress. We adorn our external lives with material fixtures that fade with the fads. Never to do we exercise reflection to look within, to ratiocinate about the barren pallid walls of our world, home to the human spirit, private to us. Instead we chain ourselves to the flux of the masses, the appeal and approval, and overlook the function, the utility of our laboring aims.

Time has become an inconvenience, not because we have so little time, but because we have too much.

I despise the corpulence, the venery, the stolid and dull, all foibles born out of the American malaise.

We need to grow radical. We need to act now, but within. Our fight should exist internally and should be waged endlessly in the name of freedom and imagination, of humanity.

desultory.

Today I traveled around Nashville in search of…

We found a bookstore. The first shop we arrived at was closed, leaving our 35 cent meter fee as a public gift.

WE then traveled to greenhills… I would have preferred a more personal and rooted book perusing, but we had to settle on corporate hours for an open shop. The mall provided us with such an outlet.

I headed directly to the Philosophy section, which was fittingly ensconced alongside book aisles home to spirituality and personal growth.

My eyes paced quickly among the rows of eastern and western thought, and immediately found the classics. Epictetus: Essays and dialogs. I peeled it open, skimmed the intro, inspected the table of contents, and sampled a few excerpts before slipping it under my arm to attend my other curiosities. Next: Linguistics for beginners. The book contained large, bold font, and paragraphs that floated among sporadically positioned sketches with crude and childish design. It was a practical attempt to lead the reader into the realm of linguistics without overwhelming their cognitions.

I moved onto the Thoreau and his journals. I always love reading journals. I need to journal more. I feel that my writing becomes less and less imaginative the less I expunge on my thoughts. Pent up thoughts blister and swell until they bleed a consciousness asphyxiated and infected, devoid of richness and life. My thoughts unhinge onto the paper and saunter about, without direction.

I need purpose and direction. I keep a small paper journal where I capture fleeting momentary thoughts. I desperately need to devise a creed of character. A creed that embodied the internal life I wish I lead.

My purpose is to single in on the attributes, virtues, or qualities I wish to possess. From here I am granted a destination to acquaint and adjust new methods and processes for attainment.

My language. I long to develop a byzantine language that is not only rhetorically pleasing, but flowery and fruitful. I want to communicate desires- hopes, dreams, wishes, questions- with fluidity, power and poignancy, riding a delicate balance of feeling and reason.

More than anything, I want to convey something worth saying. I don’t want to regurgitate. I don’t want to reiterate the same message, the timeless truths. I want to explore the bounds of thought, the limits of our caged wonder, the frontiers of imagination, of reason, of emotion.

Sheeple we are, you and I. Sheeple we’ll stay, until we die.

Can’t we escape? Are we trapped? By our own minds. If we are boundless in vision and imagination, why not industry and discipline? Can we not fathom the work ethic of slaves? Let us become slaves to truth, slaves to curiosity, slaves to causes, to things worthwhile!

Is philosophy enough to thrive? Surely there are greater callings to truth. Will surviving suffice?

Doubt and cynicism. Skepticism and restraint. Fear and misery. These need to be chained and starved. Out of mind, out of touch, out of reach.