We lost because the questions were super hard and we didn't know the answers.
Sometimes I'm terribly tired and disoriented in the most superficial ways.
My life isn't this confusing mess.
It is this privileged little world.
I do what I want.
I spend recklessly and get emotionally worked up about books and my access to them.
But I still care about a lot of things. I still feel a lot of emotions.
It isn't hard to be Riley. But it is emotional being Riley.
I'm trying to relax this week.
But mental relaxation seems to come along with an emotional tension.
I'm worked up.
But I'll settle.
It just seems like this winter is never ending.
It is almost May and it is still cold when I wake up.
It won't get out of the 60's this week.
Moving is really hard.
Leases. Places. Cars. Transportation. Jobs.
Freedom seems to be such a difficult thing to think about in its actual social reality of money and all these other damned status functions.
There is a very real language that stands between me and absolute autonomy and freedom.
What a joke, anyways. That reductive idea of freedom and all that. Choice. Rationality. As if it were that simple.
What an explosive head I feel like I have. I'm just so frazzled.
So unable to collect my thoughts.
I badly wanted to get a copy of Deleuze's Difference And Repetition.
Not that I would read it anytime soon.
My head is way too fuzzy to read anything that heavy right now.
But I wanted to get it because I think it will be absolutely crucial reading for me in the future.
But when I ordered it from my work what they ended up getting was the reader's guide to the book.
It showed up at work and I was like 'This isn't the book! This is the reader's guide! What?!'
I was just confused, and a little let down. I wanted the book. I wanted to hold it in my hands.
Just like I want Speculum Mentis and The New Leviathan. Perhaps I will just get all three of those books for my birthday.
I am lost lost lost.
Having fun fun fun.
Feeling confused confused confused.
Wondering how in the world I'll ever make it as some sort of thinker/writer.
I have a passion for reading, thinking and writing.
But I don't know how it will ever take me somewhere.