2011.12.16

by J C W

so…

 

always the same shit…

 

I am completely lost…

 

completely…

 

I can’t even read any more…

 

It seems… pointless

 

Pointless, pointless…

 

Or simply… emotionally/psychically untenable…?

 

Devil…

 

That is bad.

 

I guess, well, it’s normal…

 

After all this forcing…

 

I shouldn’t even tumblr…

 

I should just… eat, sleep… have sex if possible…

 

*

 

That’s so not what I want…

 

Lost, lost…

 

More than ever…

 

As if my mind was dead already…

 

So sad…

 

The whole problem being, always…

A problem of becoming

 

I can’t become anything…

 

I am nothing, will remain nothing…

 

I know no way of being truly existent...

 

no way of being good at anything…

 

and being good at nothing, well…

 

there is no reason to live…

 

no reason to live, no reason to live…

 

dreadful, this ideology…

 

dreadful, dreadful…

 

so lethal…

 

so desiccating…

 

 

Am I dead already?

 

Am I … finished?

 

I don’t really read…

 

I listen to things, yes…

 

Schoenberg, still…

 

Just like in the past…

 

When I listened to music… naturally…

With pleasure…

With instinct…

 

But of course, well…

 

This means…

 

not being able to study that…

having a weak discourse…

 

something that will not allow me to survive in academia…

 

funny…

 

this sudden ‘care’ for my remaining in the academia…

 

maybe because of this feeling, well, not to have any options in life?

 

No option that could be, well… satisfying?

 

None at all…?

 

Sad, sad, sad…

 

being dead is probably that…

 

death of dreams…

 

*

 

two opposing visions…

 

one, that it is too late, that I have wasted my youth…

had I been more focussed, I could have achieved things…

before cracking down…

 

the other, that this bad inner self-management brought me in that situation…

that it is actually very good for me to live this…

that it’s the beginning of something new… a better work, a true inspiration…

 

that on the contrary it is a beginning

the beginning of this true engagement, true life!

Achievement, fulfilment, etc.

 

difficult to see which one could be the true one…

 

both have in common not to see the present moment as… whole, full, real…

one sees it as an absolute decadence…

the other as the empty moment before a rebirth…

 

but emptiness is absolutely undeniable…

 

*

 

I could say

That this situation of mine

Is a wreck of the mind…

 

Complete inability

To have an idea

And achieve it…

 

Wreck of the mind…

 

Inability to realize any project,

To make my own plans respected, etc.

 

It all started with the inability to write literary works…

Then it kept on with academic works…

As soon as I have a project in my mind,

An obligation

Then it is all ruined…

I stop, I dissolve…

 

I guess this is just the problem…

I am unable to force myself…

Lack of inner father :)…

Lack of discipline…

 

Unable, unable to go through what is … painful, or simply uncomfortable…

And hence, well,

Wreck of the mind…

 

The strange thing is…

I was a bit able to read… Even difficult things…

A little bit…

 

And now this seems to have gone, too…

 

No energy…

 

flasque… je suis flasque…

 

 

Une mollesse abominable…

 

That’s why, the diary…

 

Nothing softer, nothing… looser…

 

I try to listen to music with score … (Schoenberg)…

It’s not even ‘useful’…

In my mind…

 

I don’t even find it … useful

It’s less beautiful than just listen

(Contrary to very difficult/abscond music, where the score actually helps…)

It puts me out of flow..

 

Well, well, well..

I am utterly lost!!

 

Or maybe… I’m just simply… not in the right place, here, in academia…

 

simply not…

and I should leave, as I knew already years, years ago…

 

*

 

tumblred again and again…

it leaves me empty…

it’s a very, very empty activity…

 

I should not do that…

 

Or maybe only at times?

 

I don’t know…

 

*

 

ugly, ugly, ugly world…

 

I hate it…

 

– how on earth can I say this?!?

It’s rather, I have to admit…, ugly me!!

 

Ugly me, ugly me…

 

destroyed, bratty…

 

dysfunctional…

 

Ok, now I can’t even read…

 

Can’t even read…

 

Everything is closing down…

Gradually…

 

All possibilities…

 

This is not how it should be…

Not at all…

 

shit, shit…

 

I am not progressing…

 

It is now fatal.

 

I am old, I am old…

 

I don’t know where I’m going…

 

I cannot become anything…

 

And if I cannot become, if there is no hope for me to be one day or other…

Well, then, life loses its meaning. Completely…

 

It would be a bit messy…

 

*

 

Tumblr…

 

It’s clearly more ‘stimulating’ than writing…

 

and for that reason, well, it’s of less quality

 

I need to get rid of this.

 

Or reduce its place in my life?

 

Maybe, well, I could just let things go…

 

See how things evolve…

 

The only thing I can do…

 

Write, write down those silly anecdotes…

 

Repeating endlessly, endlessly… the same patterns…

 

Such a silly beast that I am…

 

Silliness, yes, that could be it…

 

With a brutish, fixed mind…

 

Already old in my mind…

 

Aged by failure and despair…

 

Shit…

 

Is there any way out of this crap?

 

Is there any … exit?

 

Again, the questions…

Asked so many times…

No answer comes…

 

Never, never…

 

Ideally, I shouldn’t ask.

 

Ideally, I should find other ways to escape.

Like Tumblr, but more constructive even…

 

Write,

With constraints, that is..

Make verse?

Find my own constraints somehow…

 

Do something!

 

Or read… assimilate something?

 

How come I don’t function any more?

Answer: it’s the forcing…

Now you’ve stopped forcing…

And logically nothing works

The only method you have is through forcing…

Through an excessive tensing of your own being…

Self-destructive shit…

Fuck.

 

It’s so obsessive…

Like a cancer…

It grows everywhere…

(This cancer I wrote about already as a teenager…)

 

Cancer…

Blocking the mind…

Preventing from doing anything…

Preventing from having projects, from materializing them…

Dreadful, dreadful…

 

Or maybe it’s the best thing possible…?

Failing to be a project/realization person, and, instead, well…

Doing this… working, working, without idea, without goal…

?

 

Working blindly…

(As if this was working, of course… I don’t feel it is…)

 

Reconquer work, that’s the thing I would love…

Reconstruct work power.

 

Without my work power, well, I am just a shit…

 

I am just nothing.

 

*

 

Shit, shit…

All bloody roads are barred.

I don’t know who I am…

I don’t know where I could go…

I don’t know what I could do…

 

My ambitions are still there… and yet, there is no way I could realize them…

 

Shit, shit…

 

*

 

I notice something.

This notebook.

It stabilizes me.

But in a relatively low state.

 

Tumblr, for instance, is already better.

A slightly higher state.

More stimulation,

The impression of producing something a bit more tangible

(And with other people’s reactions…)

 

The question is: how do I get to an even higher state?

How?

What activity?

 

It is the flow that is needed.

I need a highly flow laden activity.

 

An activity that I can do madly.

With unstoppable passion.

And continuously.

For hours and hours.

 

As for continuity, notebooks and tumblr clearly pass the test.

No problem whatsoever.

 

The problem, of course, is always the same: those activities are disconnected from the outside.

Disconnected from a community, from peers.

Tumblr of course much, much less than this writing (which is pure, absolute loneliness, this start in the middle of nowhere…). Yet it is still very restrained…

 

And it is not a community I can identify with…

Although, of course, I could gradually find interesting people there…

There are clearly some… (and I found a few already…)

 

I wonder, still, what would happen if I reached, let’s say, 100’000 posts…

I found one blog with as much posts… with maybe 60’000 followers? Massive…

 

I wonder how my life would be if I had a world influential blog…

Probably not very different from now…

I would probably be quite amazed at the result…

It’s quite true that I am not really used to ‘materialize’ things…

I don’t feel very gifted for things…

Very strange… On the one hand I feel super gifted, on the other not at all…

One sure thing, I don’t really feel… reaching some sort of ‘fame’ that way would be possible…

Just as, say, becoming well known as a writer, or any other thing, for that matter…

 

There is still something quite different from before…

Tumblr is a direct communication with people…

There is direct reception of what you do.

You can measure your impact, your connections.

Absolutely fascinating (same thing as Twitter, of course)…

It is, truly, pure fame.

An objectivation, a tool for grasping in a quantifiable form fame.

The system is absolutely crucial in today’s world, without a doubt!

 

*

 

Still, bloody hell…

No clue at all, no clue of what I could do…

How could I become anything?

 

Become, in the sense of being defined by what I do

i.e. do something worthwhile

Create a work.

 

Or is it just, well…

Is it just about ‘importance’?

Just about ‘fame’?

 

Now I am really alone…

Without peers…

I have friends, I don’t have peers…

That might be it: I refuse to have peers.

(Peers in the sense of competitors…)

 

That is the difficult thing, and yet the absolutely central knot…

 

I am in loneliness

Because I am no good.

 

I agree to be in communication

And even to work, i.e. to invest in some process of learning/creation/etc.

Only if I can have a positive, high status.

In other words, I refuse to work if it is to be taken for a mediocre, for an insignificant person, etc.

Is this true??

 

Maybe, maybe not…

 

I am clearly not sure about this… especially as an explanation of why I would not be able to write essays, etc.

Do I get in trouble writing… because of some inner lack of self-confidence?

Because I feel, super-irrationally, that I’m just a shit?

It is a bit strange… it’s hard to believe…

 

There might probably be something else…

 

*

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