john smith
actual journal

because in the end, the only thing that counts is creation. As a complex entity its the only potential way of extending ourselves into something beyond our immediate comprehension and experience. It may ripple and fizzle or it may amplify into somethign real, but regardless, it is the only natural end culmination that can possible ever truly 'mean' anything at all...if that can even be understood...but it is also a sad and pitiful thrashing about, and possibly only human psychology.....even now. i'm only trying to fill the empty moments. of the

Went snowboarding for the first time yesterday with a meetup group, headed my a middle aged man named "Axiom", or in actuality, Joe. I was terrible at it. I used to have at least some facility for balance and board related activities, but I couldn't stop falling and my legs were so shot by the end of the day I could barely stand from a sitting position and had to waddle down this long slope to get back onto my feet. I guess that's what I get from my increasingly sedentary lifestyle.

An even stranger thing happened - my car got stolen. We returned to the parking lot around 5 pm in the east part of town where we had gathered in the morning to carpool, and my car had simply vanished. I asked the security gaurds if they had seen anything, and they said no, but they had only been there since 3pm. After my PTSD experience with having my car towed for no signficant reason in NYC, my first reaction was that the city must have towed it off for having an expired registration or some other superfluous nonsense reason. But then I remembered this is not NYC, and it was unlikely anybody could would have towed it, especially since it was a parking lot specifically designated by the bus service for 'park and riding'...so I called the bus people and they said as much, and that it was more likely stolen. I requested the security tapes to see if I can at least confirm this theory...

nevertheless I feel a certain relief - that car had some sort of bad mojo and has been nothing but trouble since I got it, even the circumstances surrounding the purchase itself. It always feels good to cleave something negative from yourself...sort of like cleaning up ...and plus, now I have a valid excuse for not owning a car and can just mooch rides with impunity... however, it is a bit of a monetary loss...and it was uninsured, so I really have no recourse. the car is already being dismantled and sold for parts, I'm sure...

Anyway, this snowboarding trip was also attended by an engineer from Bangladesh in his 20s, and a white guy who worked as a metal fabricator, also in his 20s, I estimate. Strange little tribe of adult males. Inevitably the conversations led to women, and it slowly became apparent Axiom, who was a chemical engineer, was disenchanted with his married life, and had the 'wandering eyes'...he started asking about online dating, and how to hook up, where to meet single women, good dance clubs etc....

Again, I really must stop smoking so much. I have a terrible headache today from binging yesterday... not to mention the drinking...

I must stop smoking so much. But I don't know what else to do. the drugs work. Just like listening to old songs, trying to feel something. I don't mean that in a melodramatic sense. Is it natural that our emotions simply grow duller and blunter as we age? Or is it just overacting thinking? Or is it too many removed layers of introspection? Constant wavering agonizing indecision? The problem isn't the lack of ability to experience the essential quality of an emotion - it's a question of authenticity...or intensity? It feels like an echo of something. It's as if every stimulus has to pass through an experiential filter that activates a related past experience in order for the emotion to be fully understood, or felt. Everything has to be placed in a framework of the past. An emotion is simply a memory, one that we try to continually relive. To feel the way we once did, the raw sense of shameless self-embodying importance...being rooted...centered...being the universe inside of each ourselves. That's why a sense of hollowing out occurs, that's the only way I can make sense of it anyway.

And time literally moves exponentially faster. Most frightening is experiencing this on the micro scale. I look at the time, glance up from my phone, glance back down and several minutes has passed...Every passing minute is like a time machine...I arrived at the bus stop ten minutes early and was irritated, but then remembered all I had to was stand still, look ahead, and instantaneously ten minutes would pass. And sure enough, I faced the street, looked down at my phone... and ten minutes had passed.

Portland is basically overpowering stillness with a faint background of constant white noise. Almost dead quiet but quite dead still.

God save me. Will life just continue on this way? Its boring.... I'm bored... Do people truly feel that intangible quality of value in day to day life? Bc, it is just that. just a feeling. That sense of embodied purpose. I can't figure out what that means though. But it is just a feeling, a sensation, like love, hate...or boredom...free will...

god I am so tired of being grey. Is it a lack of action... is it only that? Am I fully capable, but unable ...to overcome the logical loop, and simply yield myself to something...to embody the feeling, become the moment...but then you are not truly self aware. But that is joy. Unfortunately. As soon as you become aware, you begin to observe, and it all collapses back into the loop.

ah the duality of man. gods with anuses indeed. pondering scientific truth and an unquenchable desire for money, nearly within the same thought. Dreaming of a higher diety, while brown organic waste sputters from our sphincters...the puckered end of a long slimy tube. this race of organisms, the humanoids, has, after my 34 years on this planet, become barely tolerable, when you really step back and look at it, oh man. this is uninteresting, I know. But its maddening, still. It has been since the dawn of man. The creatures.

this is why we NEED music. We NEED sex. We NEED art. If only to lose ourselves for a brief moment... the zone, the flow, the moment...of course a psychologist would only call this a transient loss of reflective self-awareness. Just another category. But at what other time are we any happier?

Of course last weekend I fell in love with a girl. A newly married girl. Married to a coworker nonetheless. She triggered something. Her voice sounded like family, like an aunt. She is very average, which makes her pretty. and unassuming to a charming degree. Simple, pleasant, easy, warm. Normal...not like that last sociopath I fell in love with. But, as it always goes, she is spoken for...she is gone...set on her own course only to briefly intersect with my own before fading into the distance, never looking back...

This reminds me of veronika, and the spectacular collapse of our relationship. Slowly building for nearly a decade, before an abrupt and utterly resolute finality. I will never see her again. Simple as that. A portion of my psyche couldn't care less, another larger part is carved out and discarded, and it will be another ten years, if ever, to rebuild. This constant uprooting is so disturbing and so exhausting.

Is it December?
Today I went to brunch...then we continued the orgy by driving to multiple wineries in the country... tasting, galanting, laughing, merrily merging...
now I am at home by myself with a gallon of wine in my stomach, immersed, drowning in delirous ruminations and remembrances...I am sickened by nostalgia for my time in Austin with Sam...everything was embued with a thickened promise of impending purpose and weight...note, it was only a sense of promise, allowing that pushing away into the background of everything that should be bothering you... releasing the current moment from responsibility- from owing ANYTHING to you... this is where the sense of freedom emerged... and more important the sense of meaning... meaning was organic and raw, ultimately an expression of itself, that looped back so the feeling was the meaning itself and that was all and that was enough...to be young...