Day four

Today is the Lord’s day. I celebrate it by becoming depressed. The more depressed I am the better. Sundays too, but Sundays I have a painting group to run, and I usually get a good feeling from getting a painting. I have to be careful to not crowd a certain someone. There’s an art opening tonight, a pop up show. A pop up is what you do if you make work that isn’t very good, but you want that rush of attention and anticipatory fervor. The artists doing the show have whored themselves all over the school about it. Distributing hand lettered, ‘you’re invited’ cards, and posters in the hallways with offers of free wine and food. It would be silly not to go, what with the food. I anticipate hating it, which is the only place from which I can approach the show that it may have a positive effect. I wonder how this attitude I carry goes into the rest of my life. I think about how alone I am, and how I will die alone, and it sets the stage for a woman to enter, whom I will love. It’s not a proactive approach, but it’s the truest one I know. Part of me thinks this is like how a funnel web spider catches its prey, or most spiders for that matter- taking care of their corner, and abiding and waiting, and why would I think of a relationship like a predator prey relationship? I don’t think I do, just using an analogy. The quote from Eric Hoffer the other night was inappropriate. He said that to reach out to Lili would give him an alibi for mnot doing anything at all. This is in line with feelings I’d had in relationships before. Wether it’s conscious or not, I have refrained from dating for the past two years, though reading this blog, you might not know it. Hoffer’s quote struck me because it was that thing that happens, happened to me before, that I thought in distance would not happen again- it was me, surely? So I put it in there because it felt dirty, and thought it was worth putting to page. I respect Hoffer, but the quote wasn’t of immediate relevance. When trying to flesh out demons, I tend to say ugly things. There’s guilt deferment, or sharing, in being ugly, I think because when expressed, and since people want to get along by and large, soothing sentiments can be found in a response, be it neutral or positive, and if negative, and if you optimistically consider yourself strong, then it’s considered for the better. There’s things we push against, crosses we bare. We push against ourselves, whatever that means. We are interconnected in a complex web speaking broadly, and we pull and excercise the cordage like athletes do tendons, that the web become ever stronger, or atrophy from neglect. We relish in polemic, it’s contagious. We create contrasts and dynamicisms, that might bring social validations. By dressing one way you dress not every other way, (factoring in of course practicality, laziness, and uncreativity) Through abstraction bonds are formed; through organization, of the assault of information of the individual, of the landscape.

Invisible bonds get me by. I’ve let known that I need space, and the world has accommodated. Sitting in my room two days ago during meditation I saw my childhood room. It was quite clear that like a bug, programmed, I repeat patterns, and take in what is familiar to me, right down to the bed that I don’t sleep on. The decision precedes supposition, it’s automatic. Am I infantilising myself in this? Where does self love factor in? Well, I think I benefit from having a stellar upbringing, where I had access to books, and nature, and many different types of people, and so my echoes of childhood are only as worrisome as they were then. It’s not an unfamiliar bogeyman, it’s the same. Same for my relations. I’ve grown distant, and I’ll always be distant. Caitlin last night said some things about how she felt as though she was unworthy of love once, and that she changed, and it felt good to hear because I am joyed by her transformation. I have transformed myself into a painter, and that should go on, it will go on. It’s the most sure thing I know, and the foundation of my developing understanding. I hope there’s another. I just hope there’s another.