MTA.

find yourself.

FIND yourself.

find YOURSELF.

your self.

self.

to find yourself is supposed to be one of those important life events.

One that defines who you are. your beliefs, your views on life, and gives you the inner strength to solidify your world.

I have had various conversations on this. many differ on how exactly this comes about, or if it does at all.

One friend in Vancouver claims we are all monkeys, acting out some grand sociological opera unbeknownst to all of us, and that we are just behaving in this way because of our ape ancestry. makes sense. a lot of us act like monkeys and do little more than throw shit, fuck, and make money.

Another claims that we are just alone always in our life, even while with others. you could be in the wilderness, completely alone; or in a big city, surrounded by others. the result would be the same, if your insides are not strong enough.

a lot of spiritual writing is on the need to find yourself, to be okay with being alone. i’ve done a lot of thought about this, mostly by necessity.

if you spend a lot of time alone, you spend a lot of time thinking about being alone. it’s just the Way Of Things.

but by the latter argument, you spend all your time alone. god knows i have spent countless hours in the company of others, never feeling so alone in my life.

ten feet to the south, a crash sounds.

i guess The Question is, when does it end?

Two of my favorite cookbooks have fallen to the ground.

I made the argument that you cannot be of use to others, in friendship or otherwise unless you are accepting of yourself.

The front cover has nearly broken off. The cat sprints into the other room.

It doesn’t end, I guess.

I’m not alone, if I believe in ghosts.

sometimes it just seems like life is just a long series of confusing events, made worse by my ever-increasing sensitivity.

That shelf makes me want to scream. I had one other one. I stripped one screw and broke the other. Fuck home depot. I guess even home furnishings are back in the laundry room, alone.

Forgive me my emotions, for they know not what they do.

Max: First time in L.A.?
Vincent: No. Tell you the truth, whenever I’m here I can’t wait to leave. It’s too sprawled out, disconnected. You know? That’s me. You like it?
Max: It’s my home.
Vincent: 17 million people. This is got to be the fifth biggest economy in the world and nobody knows each other. I read about this guy who gets on the MTA here, dies.
Max: Oh.
Vincent: Six hours he’s riding the subway before anybody notices his corpse doing laps around L.A., people on and off sitting next to him. Nobody notices.

Listening: Cities Aviv – Digital Lows

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~ by getbackwards on February 7, 2012.

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