Of course, we all know that what do we all know? I can't remember anymore. I hate organizing myself into sentences and paragraphs and papers and chapters with theses and subtitles, it is not that it is untrue, it is just that it is most boring, and also, most effortful. No, this is something I've been thinking about lately. that I'm not really somebody who can arrange her words into papers, into any kind of coherent anything that can be useful to anyone. not just papers. arguments. I can't do it. I just spew, and there are little bits of fun and truth in the spew, but you will have to sort it out, and really, I don't think that's so much to ask. I have lost all skills in my life. William James ruined me. He told me that you are supposed to have all your personal disciplines developed by the time you're 20, things like showering regularly and nutrition and study habits and so on, and if you don't have them done by then, then you're screwed. and of course, he didn't have those things by the time he was 20, but neither do I, and that is what is scary. Because I should, you know? And I know the longer I don't have these disciplines, the harder it will be to develop them, disciplines like organizing my thoughts into coherent argument or anecdotes or not eating "fun foods" everyday or yes, showering, or not procrastinating until the absolute last moment or sleeping regular hours at night. It is just too many disciplines piling up, I will never get a hold of them. Oh well! Oh well, at this moment, I do not care. I will have a disorganized life of fun.
What will my life be? I can't picture it, can't picture it at all. It is all fog and mist. Will I be sitting around in sweat pants eating raw biscuits when I am 30? 40? Will I be sampling the latest releases on iTunes and spending hundreds on them? When does life change, when does it become adulthood? All the things that normally trigger it, kids, husband, real job, none of them are in my foreseeable future. I have sort of come to believe they are relegated to my never-future. So what is it? Am I going to be a fuck up? What will Uncle Eddie think? Isn't it silly, he is the one I am thinking about, because I know he will be the one to laugh at me, I remember hearing him make fun of Aunt Sue once, saying that living alone your whole life makes you strange, because you never have to compromise. as if he is a paragon of compromise and healthy marriage and unstrangeness, but nevertheless, he is the voice of the judger, and that is why he is in my head. When everybody else says it is ok and be what you want to be, there is Uncle Eddie, laughing at me, with his loafers and sweaters and bald dented head. How did Uncle Eddie work his way into my head? Uncle Eddie! I take you and chop you up with a machete and the Dixie Chicks will send me rays of sunshine and acceptance. (Don't worry, this is an I Heart Huckabees reference, I don't want to chop up the real Uncle Eddie, only the mean, curmudgeonly one who lives in my head.)
Now I agree, of course, with everyone that twitter is dumb, I just do it anyway. I do it because it is fun. Why do I do this? Why do I waste away the hours of the night in front of the computer screen? Last night was so lovely, I did not look at the computer once. I read and read, read 3 books and got all of my assignments done, and smoked a cig or 2, things are so much better without computers, I am convinced they have made our lives worse. Amanda doesn't have the internet at her house, and I tease her for living in the 80's, but really, I can't imagine how much more normal her life must be. She doesn't waste hours and hours. I could never speak again and just play BUBBLE BAZINGA day and night, if I didn't restrain myself, and my eyes would glaze over, or cataract over or something, and I would live in a cocoon of white shining computer light until I died. It is like those rats. You know about those rats? Those rats that have a little pleasure button they can push that makes them feel like they're doing coke or something, and they push it so much that they forget to eat or poop or anything and they kill themselves? I want you to tell me how we are different from those rats. Tell me one way we're different from those rats. Sure, I am not in my cocoon yet, but I think we as a society are those rats. We have new ideas and we say "These will make things EASIER" and who could argue with easier, but then it makes everything so much easier that we are just sitting around in cocoons with nothing to do, drowning in ease and delight, and it is such a prettier way to die in theory than in reality. Dying of delight? Sign me up. But if that delight is computers and cars and elevators and pills? ICKS. Everything is a pill. I know I sound like a grandmother, like a backwoods fundamentalist crazy, but seriously, everything is a pill. They got pills now that can make soldiers not feel traumatized by war. So we stick these fellas in the absolute ugliest situations in the world, situations that we created, and then we give them a pill so they don't gotta worry about it. Why don't we just stop creating the situations? Oh, because then what would those sweet, hard-working bazooka manufacturers do? They would be out of work, and we must keep EVERYONE in work, what, do you hate America, do you hate freedom?
You know something else, I am so sick of NAYSAYERS I could die, if I hear one more person dismiss one more thing or person or idea, I am going to punch them in the face, I am going to dismiss them, if ya catch ma drift. That is the thing about living in school. Everybody's gotta distinguish themselves and show how smart they are to see all the flaws in the argument, until no one is actually learning anything, everyone is just learning how to elevate themselves through criticism. And of course, truthfully, I know some people just actually don't like The Secret Life of Bees, and that is fine, and it is their right to dismiss it. It is just when everyone everywhere is dismissing everything, it starts to make me feel hopeless about life. Do I feel that they are going to dismiss me too? Is that what the problem is? It is mostly just that the world needs people who are open, willingness to change is one of the fundamental requirements for change, wouldn't you say? Or would you DISAGREE? Would you DISMISS? What is hardest is figuring out how to critique the critiquers without becoming one. I do believe it is impossible. And this is the burden of trying to live positively. What you're really supposed to do, I think, is just move on. Fine. It is just that my patience is wearing thin. Why doesn't it thicken up, like callouses?
I hope you didn't bother reading this. I will probably privatize it tomorrow, but for now, I will send it out into the great wild interwebs.
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