the architect

i frequently dream of conjoining rooms,
some are attached by eccentric hallways
some are grandiose, some succinct
often bounded by walls of concrete
labyrinths?
perhaps.
but they are NEVER dark...

and stairs
always those goddamned stairs
i start on the 3rd floor,
get to the 27th,
take the elevator to the 54th,
run down to the 6th
and only twice have i ever managed to make it to the roof.


sometimes i dream about a mall
god, if only i could recreate that structure!
the negative spaces in that place are like cubbyholes
the light emanating from stores are blurred, sort of like a bokeh effect;
and another mall
perhaps 6 stories tall
almost entirely composed of glass
no escalators, just winding flights of glass steps
and yellow-amber lights reflecting and refracting in a glass elevator.

i dream mostly of places i've been to,
morphed, distorted, recreated
they're renderings of an inspired, dormant architect
a 3-D virtual reinterpretation of my living experience
but they differ just enough such that i can (re)discover these constructed places.

perhaps the best part stands in the fact that
i can glance away from these rooms,
and when my gaze returns,
...
they change...

free association 1

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thoughts on direct/indirect realism and an absolute universe (rough draft)

the question of whether or not the mind perceives the universe as-it-is has been debated for some time. but my view is that while the mind can (and does) perceive the universe, it can't do so directly. senses are particular systems that have been "programmed" to work a certain way. the information they receive is sent to the brain, and our conception of things are formed in the mind. the information is direct and of the universe itself -- the processing and "making sense of" it is an interpretation of this information.

but this isn't to say that, since illusions are possible, one should deject the existence of the external world entirely, even when assuming all information one receives is false. if there were no external world then there could be nothing to perceive at all because our bodies are formed of it (and our bodies contain a brain, which hosts a mind, which does the perceiving). to put it differently, there would be nothing to explain one's very existence.

my conclusion: the external world exists objectively, but we cannot perceive it directly since we exist within and are formed of it. (the idea of anything containing itself in some way is nonsensical: one would have to be greater than oneself to do this -- a violation of the law of identity.)

punchlines and dodging punches

something i might have written as an adolescent...

i sort of take pride in my ability to express self-pity. i make sure i beat everyone else to the punch. yea, i know most likely you don't understand, but it's a conditioned defense mechanism. i can do it quicker than a boxer throwing a jab, more cunningly than a left hook, and more forceful than a haymaker.

but on my better days, i'm defensive; i'm confident, rigid, and immovable. i have a "fuck you" mentality that isn't compromised by petty accusations and personal attacks. and i admire that me. i want to be that me all the time. he's sort of like the big brother i wish i had...


~~~


how many of you have seen fight club? well, i still remain skeptical about the validity of dissociative personality disorder, but i guess i can identify with the main character to some degree -- or main characters, rather. but the difference between the narrator and myself is that i was never surprised to find out that i had another side; his creation was intentional.


~~~


yes i'm fucked up, but who isn't? you can't sit here and tell me with a straight face that you've never looked at the guy staring you back in the mirror with that smug expression, wanting nothing more than to beat the living shit out of him. or maybe to have him beat the living shit out of you.

ha. i'm beginning to believe more and more that my life is a dark, surreal comedy whose punchline i'll never get...

the pseudo-resurrection of Schrödinger's Cat

a while ago i had posted a nonsensical, superfluous attempt at a logical persuasion as to why i shouldn't be concerned about my seemingly impeding decline in mental stability. condensed, it went something like this:

P v Q: i may or may not be crazy
P -> (R ^ (R -> S)): if i'm crazy, then there's nothing i can do about it, so i should pick up the "fuck it" mentality
Q -> (U ^ (U -> S)): if i'm not crazy, then i'm stressing over nothing, and so i should still pick up the "fuck it" mentality
(P v Q) -> S: regardless of my stance on my own sanity, i should pick up the "fuck it" mentality

lol

so basically, since P and Q occupied the entire universe of discourse (and are mutually exclusive), what i was trying to do was deduce the arbitrary necessity of S.

i deleted that post when someone close to me told me it was nonsense. basically, after the hint that it was bad, and then my prying to know just how bad it was, i deleted the post out of embarrassment. but, what it took some time to realize, though, was that this is my blog, and although the post actually WAS horribly written, i shouldn't have been ashamed. i had written what was on my mind at the time, which is exactly what the fuck a blog is for. i was actually a bit shocked at who it was that treated my anxiety about my own sanity as trivial, perhaps dismissing it as a twisted narcissistic manifestation begging for a release -- or whatever the hell it was she was thinking. i'm unsure exactly what they all thought when they read it, but the reaction was clearly blatant amusement.

what's actually funny is that the saying "crazy people don't know they're crazy" is thought to have come from someone who is sane -- however, if the statement itself is true, then the coiner himself could very well be in denial...