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be warned:  this is my diary...  clb page  26

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friends.

Sat Sep 7 1996

Tracey
Why do I start with Tracey for a change? She taught me a lot lately. She taught me about what dreams are made of.. not reality. I see that her life is governed by her dreams. They have always seemed so beautiful to me. I shall enjoy with more respect Tracey's dreams.

In all truth though, the vivid and immediate learning that comes from an incredible shock in one's views - the shock of a close friend's betrayal, even if for her own good (in her opinion) - where there is only pain for me - is not the only way to learn. Not that I am opposed to this. In learning to create understanding from pain, I have overcome most of the problem that emotional and psychic pain really is. I suspect that the fear of death in me even has diminished - a terminal fate might not hit me as hard as it would have once upon. Still, really, though, it would. I want eternity to grace my life. Pain though is stressful. It ages one. hence my desire inteh past to overcome it in various ways. Shock is one of the biggies.

Tracey and I will survive this pain. We both carry it, adn many of our other friends also feel traumatized I suspect. Her dreams and my building shook hands. I built her dreams. She dreamt of my building them. We cooperated until things moved too fast. Although I suspect she does sometimes build a little of her dreams into reality, I know for sure that the dominance is to enjoy the fantasy itsel. Tracey is one of the most powerful dreamers I know. I've encountered raspberry schemers previously, and now I know too that dreamers also do not put the causal links in place. Tracey is at peace with her dreams. I made her into a raspberry schemer simply by adding building technologies to her dreams. Raspberry schemers do not stick to one dream long enough to allow it to be built. Tracey sticks to a dream so long as it does not materialize or cast her out. She does try to materialize them, and so feels a failure much of the time. Foolish really, not to recognize what she really enjoys - dreaming. She is an accomplished dreamer, and the world has always enjoyed the fruits of such persons - especially when they can overcome their own tangled web of undoing.

Today's opinion only. This complex of reactions will alter again and again as the two of us endure the revamping of all between us.

Peter
My love is sad. He tries to make me happy, and where what he wants to do does not make me happy, he becomes morose. Truly I wish him the ability to become happy himself. And truly, I shall work and weave another's dreams a little less than ever before.
My cats
They purr and chirp, catch mice, lick my nose too early in the morning, adn hunt inside the fridge for tuna. As they should.
Richard
Complex. A moody creature, he cares so much for me. His emotions travel first in front of him, or are locked up in steel covered with a demanding competance. He's been a help lately, adn a hindrance - as usual, complicated. We work so well together when we both rember to smile at each other. Imagine a pair of fighting samurai fish. And permeable glass barricades. Imagine them morphing into gentle butterflys playing in the frothy wind surf. Will he an dI ever truly be able to relax and live in peace?

He strains at the bounds of friendship with others.. looking into them for the comlexity he finds in himself. It takes such a loopy and creative mind to keep him interested. Funny that he is willing to be open and naive but not open and wise ever. Playful and charming, or strong but cold, open and naive, or ... but never all at once. I think.

Hella
Chirps at me with amazing energy and ideas, she is easily and accidently put off. She is a hard but enduring friend to have.

WHY FRIENDSHIP? In one's lifetime there are few accomplishjments so satisfying as the long time connection one can feel with another. That is perhaps why I love to work with another in building anything. I feel almost unable to do so otherwise. There are few nenefits in accomplishment that is not shared with another(s). Until I learn otherwise - never - I shall pull close to those who I admire, and work with them and their strengths. These are my friends.

As I have done away with traditional family, as I notice while looking more keenly into the world than I ever have before, I realize that I am not so alone in redefining many important terms. My understandings of family, friends, trust, awareness, accomplishment, happiness, neighbours, [Am I writing an end suddenly to this diary? It feels so. Tomorrow, I hope I will say otherwise.], thought, education, society, causality, communication, people, psychology, social junk, and cats.. all of these seem to be out there. I feel a little happier. The world is as it should be - it is what it is, covered in what I can percieve. Yes.

[ ... one year ago today: Grief ]


twogetherings.

Mon Sep 9 1996

People join togther into feeling closer. We seem to need each other, or to push away others in protest of this need. Like eating an sleeping it seems to come witht he package of being a person. The option to become a recluse does exist, and many utilize it of course. But to bring this person back in to society again takes more than a metaphorical bath and shave.

With the internal ability to struggle against oppression comes, I sense, a responsibilty to undertand what can truly oppress. So often, I suspect that we do not point our efforts against the real sources as they are more elusive. The complexities of living are such that the oppression has many tendrils and only principle can fight against such - for it too is a principle.

I wonder soemtimes if the fighting against things is part of the health of a person in a society. Perhaps this struggle is the compliment of the natural agreement and cooperation we also endure for the sake of companionship. We adopt the principles, or their neighbouring cousins, a belief set, so as to endure what we are inside. The raw material we are granted comes with if not a manual, then at least an intelligent and skilled operator.

But is not oppression context sensitive? In helping Tracey, was I not oppressing her as well? I shall wonder about this for years.

[ ... one year ago today : What everything means ]


f.

Wed Sep 11 1996

I don't think I want to write the truth about me anymore. Richard uses my truths to hurt me, to argue with me when I am sad. He is cruel. Cold and unheartful when anothe rneeds him to be warm and understanding. I guess he isa salesman.

I shall cry while I see my life entwined with a cruel person's.

Peter tried to warm my heart the other day. It helped a lot, and I resisted .. I did not want to do this. I knew it wouldn't last, and it didn't. Of course things don't last. Except pain. The easy way out of life is to let the lasting things win. Never struggling to acheive something better. But why do I have to talk myself into these better things each time? I just do. And if the asshole cannot remember that there are better things between us, that I don't have to punch a clock to speak with him, then he is the one in misery - transmitting the agony of his internal emptiness into me.

Should I hold a person to their own standards to my own, or to none at all? They rarely meet any at all anyway. I hate being human. I hate the emotions that live in me. I wish they'd go away and let me just strategize and plan. People who think smelling is important, and touching, and seeing pretty fucking colours are confused by their senses. All is information with patterns. Stupid computer metaphors. An escape from the warmth of what humans can really be, integrated minds with feelings. To live hovering in pain trying to be integrated or in patterns, crystalline and fast. Regressive humans cannot see that the latter needn't be in pain really at all. I want to be alone.

I do not want to be feeling better... stupid goddamn feelings anyway.

Betrayal.

[ ... one year ago today : email poetry and cardinals ]


effort and disipline.

Thu Sep 12 1996

How do we judge ourselves without clear vision of who we are? We look around and so easily make determinations about others, and then point back at our own self to find a vague misty weave of others' views only. [peter, angela ] From our own inside, there might be detectable the inside of a shape pointed out.

Is this enough to evaluate as truly as another our own being? "They are all acting normal," can apply more easily to others than to the self behaviour one is responsible for masterminding.

True disipline is needed to carry one beyond this charade of helpless output towards the sculptured persona we love from the outside in others. It takes a lot of bravery to be a truly interesting person, for the requirements go beyond the passive - the couch potato, the musty brain, the soulless. Internal strength of character creates observable strength of character, and although the character might not appeal to all those who closely intersect our own light cone, the character itself shines brightly tempting forth others to travel closer. Where many couch potato heads will cover our planet, a few more interestingly architected characters may yet meet in pleasure.

Choices
Whiling away one's life waiting to meet great people. Building one's life to become a great person.


trepidation and moppins.

Sat Sep 14 1996
more comments : joe

8 am

People. After a week of watching various other people ask me for favours specifically about money, I've had it. With money I shall try to be generous only with those who help me make it. The rest can beg to someone else.

I am finally angry at and with Tracey. Finally. It took a week of thinking things over and over. I've relived the 20 minute loop of intense confusion I originally felt spread out over days, and now is the angry day. She lied to me and lead me to believe that she could come out of her dreams to make reality - hers- better for her. I have no hope about her anymore. Once upon, I I liked who she was in a way,a nd the rest, I tolerated, much as she did with me. But if she is given an inch, she always takes it. I gave her many inches out of warmth and friendship and in response to the kindness she directed at me. She took those inches and lied to me about herself. She made her dreams sound possible. This week a harlequin romance novelist, the next an assistant director, the next the own of a small restaurant up north. Never a happy person, a satisfied person, a person in control of her life. Always a different job description. But my critical tools got turned off in response to her warmth and compassion. Validation. Fuck validation. Something is validating only if you did not demand the validation. After demanding it, all you will get is reinforcement of your choices, right or wrong. So fuck the illusion generating mechanisms tracey uses. Critical voices demand that she should not be validated by me about stupid decisions and about being lost in fantasy.

She turned off her warmth and compassion violently and without any concern for me so far as I can tell. Carolyn: sink or swim; which will it be. But as soon as this agreed and evolved side of herself vanished, so did mine. Not as soon, but more gradually as the shock wore off. And what was there that had been excised? What side of myself was shorn away? What did Tracey require of me in order to be my "best friend". My critical position.

Doubt, analysis, concerns based in reality. I got a hint a month ago when I suggested we go to the race track to watch the horses. We had a very interesting and fun time. But Tracey tried to get me to go again, speaking many times of its harmlessness. And mentioning also the Casino opening up north. This made me very uncomfortable. I, at least, am a very addicitive sort of person. I am not going off to gamble ever! Perhaps I over react. Perhaps not. This I cannot tell.

It angers me that Tracey can decide I can afford something because I work so much. It angers me that she was paid by my company and fucked up the job. It angers me that she thinks in class terms. Good guy blue collar union vs bad guy owner of company. She overlooks that I am in the wrong category to be my friend. She does not overlook it when she makes financial decisions. My willingness to make something work, to make many things work, seems to others to make me a cash cow.

The lines are being drawn finally. Are you a doer or not? I can't handle the pain of watching people throw themselves at acausal situations over and over. Doers understand how to cause things. That is that. That is my anger.

I understood her position for long enough.

[ ... one year ago today: justified true beliefs ]
............................................................

1 pm

Anger still. Crying. I asked a friend to reshchedule. I am not up to human contact right now. I need to understand all these reactions in me. I do understand. And yet. I still have the reactions. Remarkable. Dorian Gray killed himself. This made me cry.

What are friends for? One just said that they can help when one is sad. Another caused the sadness. Others interact with my world view making it better.

I'm going to try to light th efireplace here. I should really check it out, before truly deciding to move again. I have a couple of weeks left before I should rightly give notice. Or Tracey should .

[ ... one year ago today: Fancy and F_____d ]


enveLoping numerals.

Thu Sep 19 1996

One idea: being a product of one's culturetimessocietypeople
socialgrouplifestyleagecentury
countryracefortuneENVIRONMENT.

Another: I am who I want to be.

Does it continue: a part of the cosmos, eternal and light.

The future is what we create. Youth has trouble understanding this. Causal efficacy is a learned skill. Some gather it unto themselves through fortune or accident, and most muddle along without the sophisticated possibilities ever encroaching their event space.

Peter looks droopy to himself without his religious fervour. He betrayed himself in not using the fervour of days gone by to build the future in which this fervour could prosper. use one's strengths to make a future of further strength - happiness, effectiveness, freedom. My religion has always been myself. Not a narcissism - I've doubted this, but I see it is not finally. To create a future of wonderfulness, one has to improve oneself and make oneslef the cause (make oneself worthy) of that future. Be what it will need you to be. Brave, strong, risk taking, gentle, kind, ruthless, seeing, decision maker. These are are decisions of the will; to be or not to be what you want to be. Feed your soul with dreams and your body with their reality. Spend time in making complexity gathering an enjoyable enterprise, and then do it a lot. Don't look droopy if you don't want to.


h.

Sun Sep 22 1996

I want to write, and know nothing to say now. A shower, and then another attempt.

I guess I must ask why I want to write at all. I have little to say today. And yet, something..

Things come together as Peter, Richard and I develop in our respect weak areas. It becomes clearer to each of them - an imposition of symmetry that is surely faked - what the other has done. The exchange of technolgies, social for psychological, is complete, and where the exchange lacks the knowhow gathered through experiece, the experience begins to serve itself up to each of us. As usual I develop a hybrid strategy. My teachers, Agassi and my mother both, stressed often that the black or white solution misses the grey. My strengths come from using both together - a surprising combination that passes for grey and creates power instead of compromise. Agassi contributed the sophitication of the third question: if neither extreme is anything other than ridiculously wrong, what will satisfy the situation? Rather than thoroughly developing the white following on the black, I am working towards this middle ground. Where Richard pursues the white, and Peter the black, I am the center: both / neither. Harmonious integration.

It is fascinating to watch the children grow at perceptible rates. It is amazing to absorb their abstract conclusions and to reimplement them in harmony with all. I am happy to be the child here. My ego is elsewhere.

It is time to examine what we have achieved, and to direct energies anew. So many forces push and rely on us. Shall we continue to let them feel this is alright? One can only fantasize about how the world kills if one is alive and can sense the death forces. For if they are embraced inside one's own self, there is little one can feel but a desire to be alive.

Where is the family? And why would Ghandi wipe out an empire? [Moppins purrs endlessly in my face.]


something funny didn't happen.

Mon Sep 23 1996

A quite morning,cool, and relaxing without a fire to keep me warm this early in the day. Should I remain here or find another apartment. Nothing wonderful has come up to motivate me to move. But the possibility exists. Should I? Or should I get a roommate - I don't want one. I dislike the lack of privacy and the conflict of another's preferences. If I wanted t live with someone else, I could move in with the brood after all. Peter would not object strenuously, andyet, that is a joke. A compelte lack of funniness joke. Me, Peter, Athena, and her beloved stupid boyfriend. Heh. The compliment to Tracey's fantasy life; a nightmare life.

My view is dark and painful finally. Too much energy draining from others. Conflict and no rewards. Other people seeing my wilingness to give what they want - they grab it. I will do what I want only for awhile to clean out the system. Too many fail to realize I even do this. I must seem easy to get along with except for hte blowups I have. The causal path between these is simply my anger in not being treated well in return.

"Look after yourself first and foremost. Others will benefit from the radiance you put off. Do not give others what they want as a primary strategy. Allow them to suggest what they need more directly." And relax. [My fingers freeze and cannot type any more. My plants too may not like this chill in the air.]


hatred.

Tue Sep 24 1996

And I cried again. All day without hope inside me. I looked about and saw people remote and distant, caught in their own affairs as they should be. Me alone.

I lost a friend it seems last week. Was it two? She calls occasionally, and yet I have no hope. There is no warmth there from her. Perhaps there never was. I loved her. I had lied to everyone and allowed them to see the outsides of my feelings. And there was never any room for anything else really. She was in hate with life. But now I know I do want to love someone that way, in an easy and relaxing way without expectation and with hope. Warmth pouring between us. I need a housewife for now truly I understand why such a warm person who looks after ones nest while one goes into the world jousting is. Warmth cannot come from the others who also joust even incompanionship. Perhaps Niels might have made a wonderful smiley housewife. Tracey cannot. She thinks it is evil. And me.

And I look intot he faces of other people where actual wonderfulness exists, and I do not see the love I felt. I do not see the complex of suppressed emotions she felt with and for me. I see a different sort for these others are not housewives. Am I truly so wrong?

Back to the fireplace. It burns brightly the damp wood.

Fuck life.

[ ... one year ago today: andanothersurveysundayandanothersurveysunday ]


Truer visions and small talk.

Wed Sep 25 1996

How do cats make their way around people to get what they want? How do pretty young girls? How do all the passively engaged entities are not granted explicit power, who are notauthorized to take it for themselves, how do they nevertheless manipulate those around them to achieve their own ends too?

I've never been much of a pretty one. And yet friends call me this because it makes me feel good in a way. They see me callingmy cats such things and use these little aphoristic niceties to establish an emotional relating. I never use pet names except with my pets. And these change regularly, they are creatively productive in my language.

In suffering I end in fantasy: A handsome and successful older person, resolved internally and confident externally, will smile gently at me harbouring only complex warmth for me. I foolishly think that age prospers other than bitterness of failed dreams or satisfaction in dogma.

What I'd really like is to not need to be so brave all the time. Most things are so hard. And yet if they did not require bravery would they become only dull? Where beyond this blackness might I tread if my imagination brightened too? Yes. I am empty of creative outpourings. I foolishly took to heart too many cells of the downtrodden. Lay them to rest, leaving the genetic sculpture of human possibility as a diagram for future understanding. Where I thought other was possible briefly I owe an apology to the world.

Finally I think I can forgive Tracey. She so beautifully stood me up yesterday for dinner and a movie - her movie buddy - that I must thank her. I owe her only a different treatment, a gentleness one owes to the gentle. She serves herself the rest of what she sows.

Inner peace. .. I must run.

Nihilist Aphorisms

[ ... one year ago today: eight plants and me ]


treetops.

Fri Sep 27 1996

I wish warmer thoughts to you from farther outside your radiation radius than I normally allow myself to get. From out here you are very admirable, and yet it hurts to watch the glare. From here I can see against the brightness, your creations, patterns from below into the above. Treetops: the glory crowns of a living ecosystem.

Stay warmer inside too.

MIT Media Lab Postcard Photo
Treetops


More than that. Me. Tired. Very depressive finally. I know somewhere inside me that this is causal, caused by the fiasco with Tracey and by the tremendous pressure others feel due to FSC's success waves - pressure waves.

Why couldn't they be transverse? I don't pressurize at all well - I explode. I am transverse, up and down, a water wave with space above and below enough space in the two mediums to breath energy. Those who allow energy to travel through only one medium, air, sound waves, must use compression to encode the packets. Compress and expand their own molecules. Internal pain duress.

There is room for both. I am a surface dweller, an edge follower. And yet I can fly.

[ ... one year ago today: Travelled by aliens ]


wroting.

Sat Sep 28 1996

poem It travels through my mind this morning, about death. About surviving.

The rote. An easy thing in the mind travels unto the ears and eyes pf others.

Pattern. To see what another does to cause their own environment. I must accept these things I see for they will not change. Accept and use properly. Do not impale myself with hope. Hope is about the future not about another person now. Not at all. I will invariably find faps. DO NOT resist. Relax and navigate with fap paddlings.

[ ... one year ago today : Ooops ]


 

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