shoeboxdiary

for far too long i've had nothing new to show to you - 03-15-02

the song that's in my head:

I woke last night and spoke to you
Not thinking you were gone
It felt so strange
To lie awake alone

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this day will creep away.

and all the things i'm not doing. sitting here at my job, not working. sitting in front of a keyboard, not writing. at least, not "writing" in any satisfying sense of the word.

i'm beginning to understand why, though. which is something.

every little vice is also a sort of filter, something that comes between you and the world. a system of vices, or just plain bad habits, is a way of maintaining stasis - biochemically, emotionally, however you want to look at it. for life is, inescapably, mediated. a life of smoking and drinking and engaging in various other "deviant" (in the most sociological and least interesting sense) practices creates a modality, a framework within which life can be interpreted. certain things are perceived, certain things are experienced, certain things are felt deeply. but others... are not. all of this is arranged for you (and simultaneously by you) based on your own eccentricities. maybe it's nicotine and forgetting to eat and drinking cheap beer. maybe it's sugar and fatty foods and making yourself vomit. maybe it's rock-climbing and shoplifting and sleeping with strangers. or how about colonic irrigation and raw foods. take your pick. the modality is an empty space that can be filled with certain thoughts, feelings, etc., but not others. based on the intensity of what we are allowed to feel within a given modality (which can be quite a lot) we decide that we are experiencing "everything" and we romanticize this, which further entrenches us. our lives, attenuated as they may be, can seem so dramatic! late nights in strange rooms for some of us, "adventure trips" down whitewater rivers for others.

having given up several vices over the past few months (and i should stress that this has not been through any strength of will, but rather through some vague, amoebic movement toward "health"), [... i have to go to lunch, maybe i'll finish this later...]

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well, now i've got a lot of work to do. lunch, though. another company lunch. at a "nice" place out in the suburbs. sprawling parking lot, sprawling building. newly erected, it looks like an insurance office or a bank with too many windows. hostesses dressed like mimes or something, all in black. tacky, overly large tableware. iceberg lettuce in the salad. our waitress mispronounced "almondine", "ancho", and "calamata".




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