[journals] 11 October 2016


[journals] 11 October 2016

I tried to go to bed earlier but sleep wouldn’t come. I ran through in my head different things I could do, read the Economist, read for classes, read Robinson, go for a walk, talk with the roommates- but none one of these activities seemed attractive at the moment. I just laid there in the dark, bored and not feeling any type of way at all really.

I’m awake now, just writing some thoughts from the day down in this note book. 

-I think tomorrow I’ll borrow a book that compiles some of that food critic’s pieces, the one who won a Pulitzer Prize. I wonder what he does differently. I’d like to see the words he uses, the framework through which he investigates food…I feel excitement at this thought.

-School is good. I feel like I need a little break though from the study of financialization and history. I’m going to read a book that just deals with basic human things.

- I like academic authors that while maintaining their rigor, still incorporate a very personal voice. Authors that come to mind are John Lie, Picketty, and Sweezy.

-I think the rest of the night, I’m going to read with the express purpose of studying craft. This is my mission at the moment.

-I got tired of reading and it occurred to me that I should start writing. But my reservoir of ideas and thoughts feels sahara dry. I ask myself the question, Is there anything that I want to tell the world right now?, and nothing is immediately forthcoming.

-A reoccurring theme in Robinson’s books are parents who deeply miss their children. I’ve never encountered this theme before. I know my parents feel this way but that’s so local. Or so I thought. I suspect it is very much universal. Reading books centered on that theme doesn’t make for the most exciting reading as it is so foreign. But I recognize that 1) for a parent to read Robinson and encounter this theme, it must be so liberating and alleviate much of the loneliness and 2) even for a youngster, reading Robinson and encountering the theme enlarges our empathy for our parents.

-I do appreciate the quietness of this evening. I have set aside all my work till tomorrow morning. The next three hours are mine to spend as I wish. I suppose this is one of the funnier parts of being young. We spend so much time Becoming, that Being is a strange state that we aren’t actually all that comfortable in. You’d think that relaxing is pretty straightforward. But things to do don’t always immediately come to mind. What do I like to do to relax? I suppose catch up on writing. Go for a hike sometimes. This question is hard to answer and I decline to continue elaborating. My primary point is that I feel strongly that Being, as counter intuitive as it might seems, must be learned. We must explore different activities and how our bodies and experience of Time changes with each.

-Funny how as I write, when something isn’t true and meaningful, I just stop writing. It’s so annoying to go back later and reread sentences that you just wrote down for the hell of it. Unless you’re dying to spit it out, don’t write it down. It’s not worth writing, and it sure as hell isn’t worth reading by anyone else.

-The mission is to learn about this world, its people, its history. It is a very big project, beautiful at times, but also simply uncomfortable and anxiety inducing during other moments.