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Pasulel
when i think of the state of my mind it is chaos. it doesn't get further than my mind so does the normal state of chaos i conceive become ordered by its consistency?
i hate it when i stop writing because i never lack for things to write, but i write as i think as i speak. the fact that i think what i could express leaves me in the position of having to choose between writing things down or simply thinking of them. what i write is not what i would think nor what i would speak, but they alike at the moment of each act.
that is i can write and think of the same things, but the results are different. i have nothing to show for my thoughts, and my memory is not so good that i can remember the emphasis which certain matters become pressing to me at certain times.
i suppose the fact is that i think no matter what, but writing i enjoy. i treat things in a linear fashion. compartmentalizing is near impossible for me to do. i do things in order of what seems most pressing to least from start to end, each to each. as writing is something i enjoy, it falls low in my priorities.
the problem i am faced with now is the problem i have every time i do not write for long periods: i don't have anything to write about. or rather, i have everything to write about and no place to start. i hope i can start writing again.
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I have never been wont to make overt my hatred of Aristotle for the venereal disease he infected human reasoning with at its inception in the western world. In truth I hate the way that people invoke him because actually reading something by him, like his ethics, makes its own errors easy to see. In I can recall two glaring errors. First, no universal system of ethics can be based on a certain opinion what is exactly ethical. In all fairness, I don't think he claimed anything universal but people treat him as such presently. Second, the idea of kalos espoused by Aristotle which was his certain idea that his ethics was based on I found sadly insufficient. It is translated as right and fitting or beautiful and noble, which surely sounds nice. In truth, Aristotle defined something as beautiful only upon being observed so. As a result, many of his virtues have are concerned with what is noble only in so far as others can see it. For example, his definition of being magnanimous amounted to giving to the community enough so that people notice but not so much that it would have any real effect the assets of the giver. The problem is that anything that is beautiful is not beautiful for being seen, or if it is defined as such, then there needs to be some other term to describe that which is beautiful before ever being seen. It would have all the qualities of beauty so that at the moment of being seen it would be beautiful, but according to Aristotle, it would not be beautiful.
Nit-picking like this is easy for any philosopher, life is not so easily described or circumscribed. I happened upon a major error in Aristotle's ideas that run contrary to his own ideas. His method was classification and categorization in order to build a more objective system to study the world by, without bias. In his poetics, he uses the example of Oedipus many times in his theory of drama. He made the error of working his system backwards. The plays he described classified and categorized his poetics rather than the other way around. It was the same mistake that Freud made in creating his theories of psychopathology based on his best guess as to the cases he encountered. This made me realize Aristotle was just some poor guy, but by now he is more of an idea, and I my ire for the idea of Aristotle burns as bright as ever.

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I find people's lack of vision to be continually dismal. I understand most learning to be all in accord so that my studying english is just the way that my learning has become manifest. I never forget all the other ways that people learn in their lives and never think one better than another except for personal preference. It is incomprehensible to me that any one study would be able to express all that humanity has learned collectively; therefore, I cannot understand how people can think in such a way that puts their favored subject at the center around, and about which all other things are understood. I can deal with abstract thought, but in my experience most people prefer words that would be more concrete so. . .
I am a graduate English Student. As I sit in classes I am completely perplexed by the way that many other students and faculty members seem to wantonly, want to dismiss all things that cannot be attributed to or founded in English. This isn't about the language English, which is another fuck up all together, but rather the school of English Studies as it appears to me in higher education. There are many instances that make me want to cringe in class but perhaps one of the most basic and fundamental is the idea of logic and rhetoric.
Rhetoric as it is used in English Studies today refers basically to the art of argument or persuasion, however that might be. It is a big word that encompasses many things. Knowing that rhetoric as it is named basically came about in opposition to logic it is hard to reconcile why anyone would want to confuse the two. Logic is not used in English Studies, although it exists everywhere, rather it is called simply rhetoric.
Rhetoric more classically defined would be the application of logic to the practice of arguing a case, particularly in a court or forum. Logic has its place in proofs usually in philosophy, later in math, then in science (though I would say all three are just different names for the same thing at different times). Logic works within certain axioms of truth to deduce or induce truth. It is right or wrong, able to be proven or impossible to prove, and there is no room for debate. Logic is not rhetoric.
In my own experience, logic and rhetoric both have useful, discrete applications. Rhetoric cannot serve for logic nor can the opposite be true, and neither is complete. Logic only works for abstract ideas on its own, while the application of logic to argument, or rhetoric, or reason, is only really useful for real life things for which nothing can be said to be true. The difference to me is between something well thought out and something well said.
For example, my class was discussing part of John Locke's writing about human nature. In the beginning of his writing Locke has no agenda and is simple setting up his proof. It is all very logical. As he begins to apply his theories from logic to real life circumstances, his logic becomes sloppy. It becomes rhetoric as he uses his logical system to argue for this or that. His logic and rhetoric are both good, but as I read it I saw the divide between when he was reasoning and when he was making an argument. I tried to comment on this fact in my class by saying something about his intent being clearer later in his writing. That is, he starts with logic, but then his logic becomes muddled when he starts to argue for some intended purpose. It wasn't an important comment but no one really understood what I meant, and I was replied to with an answer about how Locke's logic seemed to be good throughout. I had forgotten how easily others would consider logic a part of rhetoric.
This among other things frustrates me. I once had the high compliment of having my writing being criticized negatively as too pedantic. Thinking about it, I thought of how much I've thought about, how much I've tried to learn, and that if my writing is too pedantic, then let it be pedantic, because I worked hard to learn what I have up to this point. It's a small point of discontent, but it is recurrent to the point of being exasperating.
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if i had to name the way i write i would call it misdirection. i don't do it on purpose, it's actually how i think and understand things. when i read the stuff wondering how others would read it, i realize that i leave out whole ideas that are the reason why i'm writing. i relate things as dissimilar as possible. i like writing like this. i write because i do. if i wanted to make it mean something i'd have to obviously reveal what it is i'm talking about. i need to work on this anyways. i just think it's amusing to know why my writing can be so frustrating, not quite know how to fix it, but come up with a name for my style.
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the fruit of life was knowledge and that knowledge was specifically concerning what was good and what was evil. like milton wrote as i poorly paraphrase, as lucifer flies around paradise, he asks, "what sort of faith is ignorance?" innocence once lost can never be regained. growing up is a matter of losing innocence through experience. experience isn't as nice as innocence but it seems more substantial. but why do people feel nostalgia? any wise man will lament the loss of innocence, but a fool could never be wise enough to keep something as good as innocence without doing damn stupid with it. innocence can only be known through experience, so what? it's like we don't know better than to give our innocence up for free. it's like a father taking their child to a child sex ring, just to go along, but then the child is raped and abused and whatever else and when things couldn't get any worse, the father finally finds the child. experience seems to me like the innocence i once had with its balls torn off that once alive now lies dormant except for the occasional night terrors.
it's all life, i know. it all actually makes sense. the way i figure it, everything is alright, but somehow i don't fit like everything else. most people always have a soft spot in their heart for innocence, but i say fuck it. my innocence amounted to ignorance, more or less. maybe if there was a purpose, i wouldn't think innocence was so stupid, and most people have that. a job well done, maybe even a compliment, but these things are empty to me. i don't know what it is to be glad to be done with something, not really. it comes and goes like a matter of fact. i can't remember what it feels like to be happy and i think things are going to stay that way because my body chemistry is off, but that's ok. happiness is passing anyways. but it is still important in passing because when your days are happy or sad you want them to be happy. goals aspirations, whatnot, i lack this propensity to be driven because at the end of the day i have exactly what i started with. i think i'm alive for a reason, but fuck me if i know.
too hard to explain, or it makes me feel too vulnerable, the point would be that i handle my own innocence like a paper bag full of shit. eager to get rid of it, i wish i never had it. this is the reason why today. thomas hobbes once claimed that even people at peace are in a constant state of war. it's why we lock are drawers and valuable things away. to keep our things safe. but that only works if you have anything of value. or material value. i have a shit load of thoughts but that just makes me more immaterial. like the time i looked down and was amazed to see my shadow. to think that i have some substance, some form, solid enough to actually block out a small piece of the sun. i never felt such a thing, but i've seen it, i'm really here, but to tel the truth i feel more like i'm over there. i'd say i'm a self-manifesting dream. why would you bother to dream me up. i do, i know i do, why i don't know. but i live off thoughts and reason because the word of emotion and sensation never meant the same to me. for this i am part-wise disconnected from reality because my reality is a simulacrum that is always at lest one step removed from anything itself. the reason is because i can't just sense or feel things, my thoughts always busy filter and sift through everything so that by the time reality registers to me, the moment has passed. like i don't trust what's real and would think on it all, because, and this is the best i can explain it, i'm just fucked up.
so i feel as though i am losing touch with reality, already feel devoid of most emotions most people consider important, and i exist as my own shade in my own reality. so here's why i am talking about it. i don't fear things. i don't fear death or being maimed and with the lack of fear of those two things, most fears go away. any easily identifiable ones. so i began my school year looking out over a night sky in the direction i would be attending classes, and i thought to myself i was not afraid. it was as though my apprehensions, fears, were palpable as i sat there and thought about conquering them. i look at the same place now and see the amorphous black of night past streetlights. that's all that direction means anymore, the unknown, and i don't fear the unknown. i would if i had anything invested in the future but sadly i don't so i just let life pass me by. and i thought as i looked into the dark of how some people still fear things, still fear even material things. most people don't need the excuse to be so pretentious as to reduce all fear to a confrontation with the unknown which is conveniently manifested by amorphous black space.
and so i feel like an idiot because i've thought of so many ways to think i don't know how to think anymore. i've found ways of seeing every situation so that none needs to be broke so none needs to be fixed. i am at peace with the world and i don't feel like picking a fight with it, because everyone else seems ok with it. maybe it doesn't matter, maybe i never would even if i could, but something bothers me about being able to register what i should be afraid of. not in a way that is frightening, but in a way that feels like losing some of the romance in a relationship over time. so here i have this idea of myself as half here, half-aware, and overly-serious, but i lose sight of myself and how i fit in it all. and as i think these things, i think how stupid it is that i would want to bitch and moan. everyone does, i understand, but i don't see the point. how can i bitch and moan when i'm pretty sure that any person that has read this far has not understood. why try, why bother anyone, holy shit, i'm different and understand the world differently, just like everyone else, i'm such a prick.
i don't even have any legitimate reasons to complain. complaints are made when someone is responsible. i am responsible for this. and not. there was a thing called a black wind that i have seen referenced in japanese farming and mentioned in a song by leadbelly. i don't know why it's black, i think it's good, but i don't think it ever was more than a phrase signifying something rare. not special, just odd. and this is what i would complain about. for a while now i have been down (moreso than usual). it comes it goes, and it doesn't even leave a note to explain why. no cause, no cure, it is one of the reasons i know i'm fucked up. and i deal with it like the black wind on the fields, by letting it be then letting it go. it still. i am depressed most of the time, and i wonder what is this. i think of how easily i analyze myself like i an out of body experiment. i wonder if i ever was innocent, or if i even know experience. and that makes me sad. which makes me mad at myself because there is no good reason for being sad, and that is what makes me a dick (for all the times i say i am an asshole). i can't help being sad sometimes if not all the time, and i hate that, and i think it is unfair to everyone around me and for that i would call myself an asshole and i stand by it. i should be better able to cope by now, at least. fuck me though, living life with the impotence of a child with the significance to all things someone that is nearly dead might find. nothing is right about me and i figure i got at least 60 more years of this shit to go through. not the unknown, just empty space without a color.
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what is this saying something like no one has ever said it before? what is this drive to be original? people have said shit since before we remember, why do i have to try to top that? worse still is that i am not an english major for a purpose, a goal, nothing particular i'm interested in. i'm interested in everything. it sucks
every moment i get the chance i think of how i'm a fuck up, i can't help it. i don't care if other people don't know what they're doing either, what other people know doesn't mean anything to me. but i suck, there's no denying, and somehow the more i suck the more i manage to increase the rate at which i suck. fuck me.
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Two religions have had a major influence on my life, Catholicism in it most theological sense (the practice was important mostly in my learning it) and zen buddhism, which simple enough to learn but so much harder to understand. Both would promote an idea of selflessness and for a long time I hated myself. Now I don't think anything of myself at all.
I haven't reached enlightenment, obviously, but I do think I'm about as near to being selfless as humanly possible. That I am still human is what makes it impossible. As long as I am shackled to this self, I can never be selfless. In catholicism, morals come from the idea of an after life which could be the time when you could finally become selfless without losing yourself. Buddhism is more interesting in its morality as it presumes that life never ends. Karma repays actions in successive lives but only with enlightenment, nirvana, can what is right or wrong take on meaning. Reactions in life from actions in a previous life which act on the next life would become cyclical as well, without right or wrong. Only with a way out, some meaning outside what we experience, can right and wrong come to be. Right becomes the way out, wrong becomes the way to be ground into dust in karmic cycles.
truly, i do not understand the morality of another culture but by comparing it to what I know and by reducing to more general ideas, I would present these as my tentative thoughts on buddhism. I have also read that in buddhism the idea of enjoying life is silly because life mostly defined by pain. Living is hell. Nirvana as the end of the way becomes understandable in this way because ceasing to exist is better than existing forever in pain, a flaw to the world.
ideally, both would point towards selflessness, but I wonder if selflessness or enlightenment of a kind could be achieved before death. What would one do with it? Self-satisfaction wouldn't exist for such a person anymore, the context would be lost. Sometimes I think that I can be selfless, but that it plays out more as a folly in reality when I trust some too much and others not enough. Always mindful of the world around me but always forgetting myself. It doesn't work so well.
I would say i'm a poet not because of how i write about what I see but rather how it is that I see. I used to see such things in the world that took on shapes in response to my personality. This world of grandeur and the grotesque becomes apparent to me still but only after periods of time in which I can rest from trying always to be mindful of the world around by being empathetic for others. In other words, only when other personalities to influence me are absent can my own finally come out in a way I know.
I don't know what to make of this because it means in seeing the world, I still see great things but they are great mostly in what they are, because I have no room to judge for others. When discerning for myself, when my life is only my own, i see the things as what they could be because i would judge them for myself. The fact that I my normal way of seeing things used to be more of my own means that I have gained empathy. The way I see things now I would believe in anyone else more than me, but what does that leave me to tell them, or to offer.
writing because i can, because i want to now, this may not make sense now, but maybe i'll find the words if i still want to someday.
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"It is bad when on thing becomes two. One should not look for anything else in the Way of the Samurai. It is the same for anything called a Way. Therefore, it is inconsistent to hear something of the Way of Confucius or the Way of the Buddha, and say that this is the Way of the Samurai. If one understands things in this manner, he should be able to hear about all Ways and be more and more in accord with his own."

For a long time I didn't want the personality I had so it is hard for me to understand the concept of fearing that my personality would change beyond recognition. i can say i know what's wrong with me but I cannot locate it. it is a part of me, it becomes me, or part of my character is that which is problematic. my life got a lot better when i stopped worrying about fixing my life and just tried to live with the one i had.
i am fine with myself, usually. it is other people i feel bad for feeling bad about because it must make them feel bad. i've known it to make them feel bad. there have been enough times when who i am has been a problem to other people that i am fairly certain of at least part of my personality which won't go away no matter how i try. then there is the rest that i have chosen, determined, and i think it would not be unfair to say i have some sense of myself.
honestly, i hope i change over time. i think of myself in the past and think, "what a douche." as of now, i know my way. that is i know the way now, but i have no idea where the way will lead me. even if my personality were to change entirely, i would know that it will be as a result of the personality i had, so in an indirect sort of way, my personality would still transfer through.
i've always had a pretty good sense of myself. i have no confidence and am insecure as shit, but i know who i am, whatever that means. the benefit i find with having a sense of myself is my sensitivity to others. there are things that are important to me, to which i am resolved, convictions. i am a pacifist but i won't let anyone walk on me. this is not a matter of provide, but a matter of morality. no person should be tread on, and no person should think they could.
as someone that has strong opinions, believes in things, and is willing to speak up, people that lack resolve i consider weak. people that live on the surface of things, on the animal level, i cannot relate to. i think a lot, and everything means something to me. i think that people can think for a reason, that people have free-will for a purpose, and people that go through life without actively taking advantage of either are people that do not jive with me.
and people are hard for me. something i have learned to live with about myself. i have learned to be kind when i can but be true to people i think are worth it. people with strong personalities mean they have a sense of purpose and have thought about things, which i value. then there is a level of compatibility. simply said, a white supremacist would have a strong personality but i would have a hard time getting along with them.
rather than try to please everyone, or anyone for that matter, i just try to deal with the people i want to. then there are my friends who i believe in more than i believe in myself. i have only had a handful in my life, but that is because i am so particular and at the same time difficult for others. it takes a person with a strong sense of self to deal with me and for me to want to know.
all this said in my way, in response to what you said magnum, the fact that you worry about such a thing is pretty good insurance you will be fine. if you turn into an asshole, i'll be the first one to let you know. you are not an asshole, and i would call you my friend. sorry if i'm wrong or right. were you not my friend, then sorry for the mistake. i humor every possibility, but i don't think i'm mistaken, and i'm still sorry. i'll be the first to let you know i'm already an asshole.

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the only resolve you will find you have to come to on your own
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i will never understand this but it seems to be only way i will be can live. i get comments back on a paper about how i improved the stuff that i was told about and didn't in the stuff that i was either supposed to already know, or assumed to know. i suck at formal writing, this is for a class on technical communication, no shit, right?
the problem is this, and something i never understood. i know i suck at formal papers, like to learn, felt like i learned, so i feel good about the class. the comments on the other hand sort are like a preemptive strike of how i was sort of obviously flawed. i want to work on that stuff but it is hard to do when all people seem to do is blame you for your mistakes, as though you commit them maliciously, like it's your fuck up is insulting to them as a person.
the biggest problem is that i don't care. if people can judge me however they want but i'm at least a human being, which gives me the right to at least be ignorant of how bad i am, because the way they make it sounds would make me think being ignorant would be better because it's so horrible. i'm ok with who i am, don't want for much, don't need for it. i mean, basically, i don't kill myself over classes because i think feeding what i've learned back to the teacher is only important up to the point i understand and can communicate it. i don't care about getting A's, just passing. i think this could be the source of the preemptive defensive offense, but that is assuming something about me that isn't true.
the point would be that i find that people expect me to have some sort of motivation or reasoning which i'd base on their experience rather than assume too much of my own. a lot of students are bitches about getting A's but I'm not, it's not normal. the story of my life in those words, on my grave stone, write "it's not normal". the problem is this, there are so many things things as they seem to me which I am not on the same page as other people because i don't like to assume things or judge people without knowing them. i might seem inapproachable, but if anyone tries to talk to me, i try my damnedest to response appropriately and considerately. i do my best. my best probably isn't the same as other people's idea of best, mostly as it is mainly lacking in any show for it, but that's me.
the conflict manifests in moments like these comments which were giving reasons towards things i don't care about. things like i had typos and shit. i was happy to get the paper done. i don't care if i get a c or a low b, so long as i don't fail. so why the animosity, what is the problem with me being who i am that i keep running into these conflicts with people because i'm not assuming enough or something? because i don't deal in bullshit and never intend to. i don't think i will become anything great, and i really just want to make it through life without losing all hope and finding that i no longer have any dreams for what life could be. when they've beaten me down, i will be dead, whether i'm in the ground or not. so in that context, fuck, a B, great, i'll take it, i think i earned it seeing as my mid-term paper was shit, or so i would have said. i didn't say anything, and like in so many cases, i was treated a way i couldn't understand as i feel as though it was intended for most other people. i don't think i'm special, just a little crazy, and unrealistic.
i'm ok with all that, my fault, bad work, but i'm not cool with feeling like i'm supposed to be a certain way otherwise my life will be irrelevant since people would address it as me as though i was someone i'm not. i don't like taking responsibility for things that i'm didn't, don't, or am not. i especially don't like those responsibilities being made to be something i have to learn to even be able to communicate with other people properly. i'm not complicated, just different, and it just takes a little thought to figure me out, and i consider thoughtless unnecessary and inhumane.
this becomes apparent in several different ways in my life. like i don't want to make money. i don't want to starve or be poor, i just don't care that much about money. i would need only to get by. i don't want to be famous, i would imagine the responsibility and influence of success is a terrible burden. i have no intentions of hurting anyone, i would sacrifice my own happiness to ensure that i at least not hurt anyone else. kinda crazy, but also kind of makes people treating me like shit just sort of redundant.
i feel as though if i don't learn how to at least understand this person that people are addressing when they think they are addressing me, this person that is fickle and petty and mean, as though the world were full of car salesman and i wanted to walk. i need to get along with people to help people, and helping people is important to me. how do i be more like this person i'm supposed to be, or at least understand it enough to not feel pissed off when i get comments about how my work about how my ideas were good but the writing could use some work in pulling ideas together. i'm tired of explaining everything i say, everything i'd know, all that i would draw on to make the best informed decision, statement, whatever, and getting only blank stares in return. or worse, being treated like bring up outside information is wrong.
i can only imagine what the workplace is like. i'm thinking two men that beat their wives for fun and their kids to feel empowered being offered freedom, given a knife each, and said only one of the two could be free. that is how i think of the world around me right now. i'm like, 'why all this doubt and conflict, be happy for what you have and try to work together for best results, and people look at me as though they are thinking of calling the cops in case i'm crazy. i would be happy to live alone, no bullshit, give up all my stuff, whatever, I might even prefer the idea of solitude over being forced to fight in a time of peace. i can't stand the idea of taking things from other people, it kills me. and i look at the world around me and people liberal is considered to be bullshit solutions to real problems whereas conservative is considered to be the hindrance of bullshit solutions amounting in bullshit. and i think to myself, what would be a good place where i could go to ground, drop off the map, so what if i died, i tried to live.
fuck
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