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sensory summations.

Thu Aug 8 1996

Inside. Outside. Where to go?

I can't think.

[ ... one year ago today: Well-to-do Nothings ]

kryptoanarchy.

Fri Aug 9 1996

Off shortly for dinner with Peter. I've worked too hard these past two days. I'm very grouchy and miserable, and not in any way desirous of fixing it. Shit.

On a heavier note, things at the new apartment are cool. Travelogue. Get a mental life.


sorrow.

Sat Aug 10 1996

I'm crying. I've tried to find someone t talk with all day. People are doing their own things. I am once again at the hating my life spot. Emotions in people all over the place simply suck. I don't want to be near people on little programs like drugs controlling their muscles. I love you. I hate you. you are swell. Sleep with me. Are you happy. Moooooods. For cows.

I have a date tonight with a guy. Sigh. I'm not looking forward to to the complex of fending off innuendo forever. I'd rather not know people.

I guess things have been dismal. I rely a lot on Richard's stableness. And of course he hasn't much at all. Never really did. His dynmics are reliable but he is not emotionally detached from his own reactions. Why isn't anyone? What is so goddamned amazing about one's own stuff? Autiobiographical garble.

A social person thought courtesy Agassi. Now that my brain is dead, and I am a mere business geek, I must simply regurgitate stuff I've heard or thought in the past. No longer am I an original thinker. I wonder if even who I am is some assembly line output of uncreativity. Yup.

I only imagine a world, a time, in whcih each and every action, thing, personality trait is unique - significantly differnet from those other things.

Differences. I respect them. I learned to notice them only in more recent years. Previousoly I made great due with only noticing similarities, and althogh that is logical gibberish (for one necessitates the other, I beleive), it made me creative things that weren't there previously. Similarities exist beyond the ones acknowledged by the herd, the mob. (Nietsche, Poe)

I feel the age of my life on me now. The part that others me is only the wondering about how to sculpt my image as older. I don't like change. Sorrow more.

Just different. And with a bottle of perrier only. Good. That drinking thing was very truly stupid.

[ ... one year ago today: Cats ]


pillory.

Sun Aug 11 1996

Yeah well... Perhaps some input would help. Sundays are the quietest net days for me, and August the quietest month. Today there is silence. Perhaps in me as much as anything there ticks only a heartbeat. Still nothing on the brain frontier.

Last night at this social function (another wedding I didn't know anyone at)... I found that riding on past laurels is truly easy. Is it only successful people wh have current laurels? I mentioned having been at Waterloo too,and half the table had graduated from there into the IBM employment agency. The groom was a Waterloor, and so much of the non-relatives were as well. That place caused a culture unlike anything I've been a part of previously. Ten years later, there are jokes about the library, and about the engineer / arts/ math divides. Wow. And most people I meet were in a department close to mine, or from years similar to mine. And when they find out hte program I was in, I get slotted as a certain type unless I struggle to avoid this. And then I down played the current success for a desire to get out of the posturing that I had accidently engaged in, and accidently won. I don't think is does others good to lose or win. Waterloo. The types who ended up at IBMlike entities from the group I knew were the most stable, intelligent and conservative. A type. These people were somewhat in that category and seemed like geeky civil servants. They weren't hungry for lanything, more staid and stuffy with geek undertones - social graces lacking strongly. So interesting.

Was that sarcastic? The fellow I went with is nice, and although he tried to get me to do things I had already said no to a couple of times. I think I'll have to decide not to go out with him again. My own autonomy is more important that his sense of aethetics. I haven't come this far to let a friendly jock lead the dance steps.


Letter to a friend.

Mon Aug 12 1996

Once we had a friendship, bright with imagination and argument. We tested each other's minds and courage. We designed and experimented. We cared about each other.

And through our differences, we learned about new worlds. I saw things and places I could not even imagine previously. Whole worlds of communication have since lighted for me, their mere existence a shock to my naive soul no less than three years ago. In your eyes, I saw a difference - innocence - an internal simplicity found in cats and dogs, in little children. You saw in me something different. Complexity lived in this space in me, understandings vast and rich about the nature possible inside a single human.

With our strengths we built first one thing and then another, our courage and our needs growing with time.

Now we have so much that has arisen around us like a garden tended with wisdom and work. But there is a darkness. And it is this darkness which I have resisted and stayed away from for many days now, and about which I am finally corresponding.

We must look into it and learn how to travel again in the light. I am not able anymore to open my heart to you. I am hurt by your fears, and can no longer see the dreams we had. You are hurt similarly by the lack of strength in me. And so it should be.

Or is that wrong? I cannot feel able to freely choose my course in bringing us together again in understanding, comradeship, and love. I run scared from your passions, both good and bad. You seem to me to desire a retreat into old simplicities. I do not know how to reach you anymore as my old ways seem only to be tricks in my own eyes, even though such vision is a relic of my old hatred for repetitiveness, my own demon. I can no longer simply reach out to you with my old strength of belief in my own beliefs for I have more doubt in my heart than is healthy. I expect that the doubt will retreat.. if the one thing I truly need from you can be had. As we soar into the stratosphere, I do not want to end up alone.

You have become part of my family - one of those chosen to be inside my heart always because of who you are. I don't know that this is a wonderful thing to be chosen for. I am demanding, ambitious, brilliant and willful. However, I am different from many with those traits in having a self awareness unparalleled. I know you have seen this. It is time I think for you to make some decisions about who I am. You know who I will not be, a lover, a wife, a submissive, a loser. See who I can be. Without romance, I have achieved strength. Without softness I am tough. Without doubt I am right. And without fear I am invariably a winner by many many standards.

I haven't been able to write anything for a long while now, and finally this letter came to me, suddenly and without a doubt. There is no sentiment in my saying to you that I do love you, that I will not defect on you, and that your troubles and glories will always be mine so long as you will be with me by your choice.

Finally, which is now, I must ask that you talk with me truthfully. I am nothing with bad information.

Thanks for waiting.

[And yes, this is in the diary too.]

oOo

xXx


emminent thoughts.

Wed Aug 14 1996

Tracey is wowing me. She is waking up from a long sleepy dream in which she barely exists, only as a servicer of other peoples' needs and a bill payer for her own needs. she told me stories today about her fantasies, images of letting go of everything to find out what remain sas her. She was so incredibly beautiful it made me want to cry. Freedom on her breath.

Freedom. People are so different from each other int he particulars, but they seem to divide in half about this issue. Do they have personal freedom or not. Ought they to or not. Ought anyone to or not. I opt for freedom on all counts. Others vary. I can only wonder why holding onto the known can seem more desirable than it. Known is good if it is not inthe way of growth or exploration. But it easily becomes complacency, and often war over the right to slavery in others.

I must buy some mild an dcat food. Will I go out at 9 at night to do this now that I live in an area with out excuses? I doubt it. But let's hope I am free enough to do what will make us all feel better tomorrow morning. Good idea.


fiddley details.

Sat Aug 17 1996

Like spelling.

I think I have forgotten how to laugh or cry lately. Everything just gets processed into thoughts and solution sor suggstion spop out of my mouth. No learning seems required by my environment. I wonder why that is. Certianly I believe that learning is always required. Perhaps I feel willing t let the world catch up to what I can do know and then let it push me a long driven by need. Perhaps.. but not likely. I find simple implementation, which is really all I do nowadays, to be boring. Not exciting. Hmmphf. It was fun while I did al those tv things, and not so fun afterwards. Otherwise though implemtnationis dull, predictable, and there are no conspiracies to admire - I am the creator of them, and an honest one. There is not a web of illusionaround me. Perhaps, again, I should weave to make myself interested in the results too.

Boredom. Usually I feel bored when the thing I should be doing in the bravest possible Carolyns is what I am truly not doing. Like with Tracey it is moving here. She is bone tired now because she is avoiding doing the thing that would make her lighten up the most, moving away from home. What am I doing that makes me bone bored? Not doing bigger things really. Doing implementation things only. Ooops.

I wonder that other people can live in boredom. Do they? Or is every moment exciting because of some skew in their thinking? Niels was perenially happy simply because he was. Boredom occurred for him I think but was just less important than hte fact that he was also happy.

Am I bored, or unhappy? It feels more like unhappiness, but that is due I thikn to my internal resistance to fun and laughter that pervades my decisions on behaviour. Serious, dull, conservative. I have a boringness virus, and I am boring myself. The quest for the mental asylum get out free card leads me to be bored with myself. I still feel I'll be locked up if I emote out loud. And I feel that too many people will glom on to me if I show any fire outwards. But to bore myself as a consequence is not worth it, I think. What to do.

[ ... one year ago today: Eight O'Clock ]


everything starts with f.

Sun Aug 18 1996

Inheritence. Relatives are trying to give me a gift to stop me fromrecieving the real inheritence. My grandmother died a few months ago, and then my relatives starting to get in contact with me. In the end, a cheque was mailed to me and a letter asking me to accept it as a gift with the legal intention of removing my rights to any other inheritence. I am going to try to contact the lawyers involved and bypass the relatives. I'd like to find out what is really going on, and to see if perahps they are trying to cut me out of an inheritence of a different magnitude. My dad and his relatives seem to have become very creative since last I knew of them.

Reminds me of old times. I have a nice conversation on the phone with my dad. I feel how smart he is, like talking with molten ivory. Charming, funny, quick. Even interested in what I'd like to talk about once I relax. And then at the end a short worried exhortation, almost with tears, that I continue to talk with him again. A little verbal arm twisting that does not work on me. Never did. []The sun in my eyes ... beautiful.] And then a couriered letter. He hears that I have just moved. In asking for my phone number, a publicaaly available thing that he needn't twist arms to get and yet does, he goes for the address as well. I'm pinned. There is no reason in the world he coulcn't findit out by other means. A small protection from their agonies will be missing though as I concede little bits of privacy creation. I tell it to him.

I rememeber his reply was something like "good, now I can mail you the inheritence cheque". And my arm snaps behind my back. He forgot he had it twisted there, and his pressure was too high. But now I know what ios going on. It is time to wait and let a few of their actions play out. The lawyer should be mailing this to me. The lawyer probably never managed to locate me. I shall have to locate him. [It is truly sad that I do not have a doubt that the lawyer will be a man. My relatives did the hiring.]

And as I suspected, when the cheque arrives, everyone in the office [the tower, not the office] gets a laugh. Peter suggests this is a standard plot device for an old black and white movie. Indeed. [ISP fiddling... my space usage seems to be a bother lately and suddenly I have a quota. Should I move or send them a hard disk. Hmmm.]

Ho hum... What a boring person I am finally.

............................................................

I think I'll become a business obsessed person for something to do.

People in the world are like grapefruits, full of segments but basically all of similar structures.


mice mornings.

Thu Aug 22 1996

Mice in my coffee cup. Jumping mice. Cats sure are glad I moved here. They jump real good. Yesterday we hired more people and things should be calmer around the office.

Headache season. I've been spending my time working with Richard to re-structure things so that we can both live calmer and happier lives now. The time has come to think about what we will do next.

Reading: Like music, reading adds many strings of phrase, melodies, catching in my mind taking over what was there previously in raw and to me interesting form.

Reading re-formats one's own mind into standardized - due to popularity of reading - patterns of thoughtfulness and response. Patterns are recreated in my mind as they have been in others and I am not alone anymore. And while I am not alone, I am not myself. Swimming in a sea of culture that is at once beautiful and boring. No new frontiers in Shakespearean analysis, or in editting another poe collection.

Some views are particularly interesting, novel, appropo. These become threaded in to my own views repeating themselves in satisfied waves and troughs. The beginning with promise of satifaction, the end with a tantalizing fit into continuation. The never ending story.

Heroin threadlettes. Rememorized. Remembered. Reading.


trying to find a quiet space.

Fri Aug 23 1996

I wonder what people think about while riding on the subway, walking down the sidewalk, sitting on park benches. Are they like me? Are they interested in the social vibes or themselves. Do they look in all the mirrored surfaces we've surrounded our 20th century tastebuds with or are they busy trying to peak at other apes? Are there any persons out there actually wandering around in order to think and discuss important issues, or to outline concepts as Peter and I used to do?

Do they have to be drunk or high to have fun? Really?

I learn through the local grapes that other grapes were dating for a long time, andthat the grape I got serious had lied to me about this. "She was just a young kid, a friend only. I haven't been involved with anything like a girlfriend for years." A certain grape's online journal says otherwise. No more grape juicing with that grape. But that relationship already dissolved into vinegar with my discovery that he wasn't a talker.

I just traveled on the grapevine along to Angela's place. Its eery to find myself talked about in the way I discuss others. I appreciate the experience a lot. And another happy karmic 40 to you, Bill.

I'm glad that the world and my life are sorting themselves out. Very glad.


a differnet friend, another letter.

Fri Aug 23 1996

It seems we are always jostling for space, you and I. Within each of us is a need to be who we are. That is a positive quality, and a negative as well. I watch you doing what you need to grow and to heal, I admire this.

Imagine the day when the demons are gone in me. I'll be shining brightly and happier as an 80 year than I ever can be as a youngster. My wonderful parents, much as yours, have lent their own lives to the satisfaction of their own metaphysical spaces. You'll catch the irony of that, as I well know. Although this sounds grandious, again as you would prefer it I think, in fact they had chosen the dull and normal, safe and secure in the public offered metaphysics. Cute, not stirred.

Imagine when their worldly doings will no longer relate to yours, to mine. I speak as a sister, although I have long moved mentally away from sisterhood of the blood. Perhaps you will understand this some day, and perhaps care to talk about me as you do your own blood relatives. Perhaps not. As my own estranged father accidently reminded me last week of the day I gave up this native connection, so perhaps someday you will pack your one bag and move off. I know you can anytime.

Perhaps more than anything I feel somewhere classically known as the heart that you can be free of your own demons too. I am your wings if ever you choose to fly. You need only smile at me to float on the air currents.

The next while will be a tough time for you and I together. We have grown so close over the years. this closeness as in all well crafted relationships, has developed its protocols and respectful silences. I hope you know that my silences are not an indication of anything else. I know you do. Please remember that as we embark into more interesting waters.

As our spaces grow, I will always share mine with you. It is that easy. Note that I am not an unconditional person. My conditions are simple. Stay true to yourself. See the world sthrough your own eyes, enlightened as they have become. Stay warm towards me so long as I acheive my own challenges with learning. Simple and almost impossible.


vines awaggling.

Sat Aug 24 1996

Life is a bowl of seedless grapes eaten slowly, grapefruit segments sliced apart and examined, a salad of social internet interaction. Any kiwis want to join in?

Tracey is moving much of her stuff right now over here. My goodness.


puddles of letters.

Sat Aug 24 1996

Late at night, another letter

It's funny to me that the two people in the world who I can work with creating things of wonderousness in any realm we can imagine are people such as you.

It is funny given who you both are, and who I have become to make this happen. I wnat more than anythingnot to end up being just another pile of bones in the cemetary up the road. There isno way not to end up so, and I realize that I have my own perspective on the world screwed up. While walking home for the store, without fear finally, I tried to think important thoughts. I couldn't. I tried to remejmber the great way life used to be, and sure enough I believed that it must have been so.

And then I noticed a pot sitting out onthe back porch of the corner house. We are in Rosedale, and until that pot, I didn't believe that anything but appropriateness reigned here. Now I realize that my own eyes were filtering this image for me, much as the American dream creates only that image for its participants. With a few extra mosquito bites, I know a little more about what those magic days were about. Smiling in lost play.

I look forward to playing more again now that all of the stresses of the past few years are going away. No more regrets about grad school. I think about Angela pursuing broken images in the ether, and about Clark Glymour and his politically astute geek institute and personal power base. I think about the political officer assigned briefly to Babyolon 5, and her cold efficiency styling the worldscape that I so wish I had. These thoughts all tabngle together to teach me aboutu politics and academics. Why I am bored now lately is due completely to my own expectations. The world will be like ____. This is the fallacy of predicting the future through dogmatic allegiance to one view. The must be.

It is back to the possible and the is for me. Long term possibles. Immediate is. No more confusion, I hope.

My pile of bones in the long term is an actual. My current life with people who create and achieve, this is now. Why have I stayed confused so long?

I know the answer, and the answer is no more true. My duties are almost through and that is what we all have been waiting for. My apologies for taking on such challenging projects. Irony intended.


in pursuit.

Tue Aug 27 1996

Calming down and centering inside. Humans have always required working metaphysical schemes to be happy and functional. A working metaphysics though includes some basic parameters such as essential consistency and recognizable goals which can be related in a clear manner to worldly and internal acheivments. Most people travel with prepackaged metaphysics. These come with instruction manuals and peer groups. Those of us who are working to develop our own views, essentially developing new metaphysics, have no peer groups, manuals, or even guarentees. We are gambling.

Did the greeks gamble way back when they invented democracy? Did the romans thik that bureaucracy was really such a new social construct? And the assembly line inventor of the Americans, did he know the changes that would occur due to a simple new meme travelling with its success through all of us? I think none of these things were hard work at first, but rather facilitated easier work.

New solutions are developed to save timeand other resources. The error I think comes in when we use those saved resources simply to raise the qunatity of output. This follows if we don't cut back onproduction hours. Plain and simple.

With a new metaphyiscs, this same situation applies. Improving one's own views of causality, of belief formation, of self worth, and of .. well that really sums it up actually.. improving those things is sufficient to gain one the time and energy to do more. From dinosaur with bad circulation problems to mammal.

Time for breakfast.


defeat.

Thu Aug 29 1996

I don't think I ammuch of a wonderful person. Evidence has it that I am pushy, overbearing, fussy, finisky, and intolerant. Why must I be none of those things to have friends? I have to talk with Tracey.

She doesn't answer.

I have to figure out how to become at peace with what has happened. Peacefulness in a difficult space in oneself, hard to reach and to maintain. It is the alternative I know of to screaming and crying and really letting my feelings out in tears. Where in some circumstances it is the more appropriate reaction, it should be excercised. I am surely in such a situation now.

The things you learn. I've cared so much about Tracey that I pushed too hard. She reacted suddenly and without consulting me. And I am left out in the cold, without a friend and without a roommate. She is willing to err that much, and apparently so was I. If was superstitious, the timing of this, a year after Neko died through another friend's negligence, ... if I were superstitious. But I am not.

Tearooms, horoscopes, little voices. Accumulated reasoning skills based on dice rolling. Tracey was able to decide that she has to look after herself. I am proud of her for this evenwith her attention deficit for the longer term concerns she ignores. And hurt that she has to hurt me to do this. Yes, I pushed too far. I needed to know. Just another defecter in the end. Defecters always defect on themselves first. The signs are there, and now I shall take them into account more clearly.

My last bit of energy for another person who is not looking after themself is gone now. I knew I was stretched thin on this. Now I've snapped too. What I had to learn from living with Tracey was a kind of compassion which in the end was not there for me. I showed no remorse in making sure the bills got paid. She did not chose to speak with me about a decision that effected us both grandly. All I can guess is that Tracey will spend more time on this over her life if she stays with her current clarity than I will over the next few months.

But am I evil. I'm thinking that the answer is yes. I have not chosen to be likeable and it is starting to show. The heaviness this brings me. I don't and didn't want to be so alone. Nothing to do though since it is clear Tracey fears I can overpower her. I cannot express myself at all given this fear. I am trapped in my own predicament- her label for it.

And I loved her.

[ ... one year ago today: no room for honesty left ]


looping around the answer.

Fri Aug 30 1996

A year of griping about things has made me stand up for who I am more often, less griping. Now I must move in to a new way of bing, and a new apartment again. Funny. It is time to take a positive stance on this. Sometimes when people find themselves at a crossroads they make unexpected turns. My queestion is about when a poerson learns about themselves? Is a crossroads change of direction such an event.

I'm not at a crossroads in anything in my life. I am essentially passive about thhenature ofthe universe, and I merely move towars or away from things that fit into my plans, my visions of the way the worl can be with some forethought and work. I know htat it does not look like this to the other people.

It is tiring to be around people who are always broke. The purpose of money is to allow you to do what you need and then what you want. Money is of no other value that I can see. It is surely not a focal point itself. And yet to live in pain because of it is wrong too.

No focus today.. miau

[ ... one year ago today: further thoughts ]


calmer waters and tea.

Sun Sep 1 1996

A year ago Neko died, and now Tracey has dumped me. Deja vu abounding in ways surprising and predictable. But where is the humour in this? Both times, I feel my position is copromised. I cannot act in ways in accordance with my true desires nor with my true beliefs - they differ in me. I want things to be th way they were before the traumatic breaks. Nothing goes backwards. Tracey could decide to but will with an absolute definiteness not do so. My options narrow down to considerations on how to treat her here on in. Fibrillating between hurt, frustration, love and concern, I do not know where to end up. Wait it out... wait. Patience is required. I told her that no matter what happens what has been between us will still be there.. I said this many times before we had embarked on living together. Now I find that she had never once said this to me. Now I realize that I should listen more.


dreams of tomorrow's future.

Tue Sep 2,3 1996

People clump together creating bigger units of decision making and support. Some are loners wanting to produce all themselves, and to never rely on others. Where are the boundaries supposed to be?

I'm just kinda disappointed in the journey I ended up on. A friend writing me off - she will chastise me for this in my head. You know me better than that, she'll say to me. And she is right, and in this case wrong. I've mevoed some of my things into the room that was hers. And I shall speak shortly with the new landlord to give him my notice. I am on the move again. This time it will be with grace.

And where am I now? Where indeed? With a lot of warmth around me and a little hope returning.

[ ... one year ago today: Sounding Good ]


 

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