eating my hair and

woke to find i'd been studying anatomical charts in my sleep

want to be see-thru so i can watch myself digest food

which is an endless spectacle and which will ruin me

due to

only eating what is digested most spectacularly

which is what puts up the most fight to being digested

which if not the healthiest diet is the unhealthiest of all diets

will i deliberately induce 'pathological' gastrointestinal states for sport

want to remove my intestines and keep them in an aquarium on a shelf by my bed, feeding them whatever such as ice cubes, old papers i spilled coffee on, and laundry detergent

and somehow this will be good

want to remove my lungs and drag them like kites thirty feet over my head thru cleanest air, shit talking everything but only birds can hear

want my eyes to be moons orbiting me until in 'freak accident' they collide cornea to cornea and i lose my mind in subsequent 'out-of-control' feedback loop

also want my penis to occasionally 'vanish' and reappear briefly in various places within a ten foot radius

but above all want to explode and for each shred of meat to inherit full and independent sentience and want the meats to found a research laboratory in my apartment and work very hard for years on problem of how to reconstitute me but ultimately decide i'm not worth it

then the meats leave the laboratory and are eaten by birds and feral cats

not sure where i'm going with this, i think what i'm really trying to say is i want all my bones to be one gigantic bone like a fruit pit however that is possible

worked on set theory problems, was preoccupied with symbols and peculiar thoughts and certainties then finished and looked and saw three hours had passed

which i like, time seeming to pass quicker or all at once

but mathematics is frustrating

seems like good students of mathematics probably find difficulties in the structure of things 'exhilarating' and are motivated by a love for the limitless variety and complexity of all difficulties existing in the structure of things

whereas i am very frustrated and feel most like having crying jags due to difficulties in the structure of things

i continue to study mathematics because of inertia and because it seems beautiful and 'pure' in a way that i alternately appreciate / am defeated by and because i want to finish a degree already

i have three transfers and twice 'dropped out' — once of illness, once because i couldn't get over images of illness spreading to fill every space on campus — and this somehow makes it seem important to finish a degree already

and find other ways of causing feelings of 'time passing all at once'

for instance

if i could sleep all day indefinitely waking one minute every 8 - 12 hours to see what time has passed and how the light has changed and maybe record this in a notebook briefly / using shorthand

i would do that

until like the giant worm in super-frog saves tokyo my brain turns into jelly and

he probably isn’t thinking anything at all, just lying there and feeling every little rumble and reverberation that comes his way, absorbing them into his body and storing them up 

seems good but impossible

which i read years ago and now remember

notes not by our hand and

we sit with our ski jackets on indoors because we find ourselves suddenly and unaccountably very cold

the thermostat reads twenty-two and we have forgotten how to convert to fahrenheit again

we aren't sure of anything

. . .

we have not yet been successful in committing to any moral system

due to the absence of

an absolute morally neutral action or state

such as

'supine doing and thinking nothing voluntary until expiring'

which does not have the moral weight of for example suicide

because it has no moral weight

and is in symbols a zero

which is a recent invention in numbers

and fertile we think

. . .

the first person plural

helps me feel that the writing

is something that is happening comprehensively

not only as an enumerated history

but within moments a spatial extension

staked variously by actors and the boundaries of which describe

a place

for all of our things

and towards which goal

offer small but promising returns

for a long time the 'basic element' of relationships with other people for me was to 'impress' them

childhood and adolescence

less charitably the basic element of other people for me was 'how can i defeat them'

this was terrible and i was a shit and lonely and i did not like my friends

and gradually i thought i should only 'accept' people

totally and passively

which engenders many and lame tepid friendships which could not sustain 'love' or any very strong emotions

and i gave up then because the texture of everything felt the same

and when i met people

i asked many questions

and this was forced and this was as unbalanced as before

then there is a long absence in this history

and i don't know what happened then

now i feel like i should only 'share' / 'encourage'

like the most important thing is to try to understand how a person sees themselves and to appreciate very hard & vocally all the ways they succeed in that image

and to understand each 'flaw'

as just another manifestation of being (which is complex)

without innate value more or less than any other thing

and i should share and encourage with no necessary expectation of return

sometimes i feel bad for the innumerable honest things i could have but did not say to my last girlfriend (we don't talk anymore)

which would have made her feel good or better about herself and her actions thoughts habits body and many many fears

i remember her eyes squinted and dripping in the shower, her hair flattened and her hands folded just below her belly, and she laughed and filled her mouth under the spray and she spit water at our faces

i said a few good things, i don't know why not more

possibly i thought she would not believe me and then not trust me and then not like me anymore

kind of fucked

and a failure of 'encouragement'

'encouragement' seems a good value and i will hold on to it and if i can i think i will be better

might delete this i don't know, becomes increasingly inaccurate with time

slept thru my classes today which is bad

still feeling 'residual' shame

what is my problem, i have no problems

i have some problems, they are very nice problems and more pleasing than other problems i could have which i would not like

feel unsure as to the meaning of feeling good about doing anything not directed toward resolution of very broad and complex and seemingly intractable failures to provide or allow among other things food shelter care and security from violence for very high numbers and percentages of humans against which i lack even basic technical competence such as in matters of agriculture irrigation water sanitization waste disposal medical treatment medical advance energy production research and policy and trade and governance and all technological and epistemic refinement and many other things which i have gotten confused trying to list but which generally can help people

and i just leave it nebulous and opaque

and lie on my bed in the dark or with the lights on thinking about everything that has ever happened and how it is no longer happening and how we are so fucked because of this

very irresponsible

really don't want to be at school right now

honestly feel bad sometimes that people have to see me

like due to ignorance and neglect of ignorance

i am doing everything wrong

and making everything terrible

for everybody

which is actually really narcissistic so i have been trying to 'dissociate' in these situations and focus on the most prominent immediate external sensations

such as

everybody

and the vague arrangement of overhead fluorescent lights in the dull-worn linoleum

and the pendulous weight of my bag

and the excerpts of conversations overheard which collated with other sensations and the quality of light and sense of location become in me a totally unique and never before existing coherent and non-reproducible monologue owing to impossibility of anyone else occupying exact same space / time as me

and i focus on these sensations and can in this way feel that these sensations are all that i exist as

i don't think 'i am only these sensations'

i sort of stop thinking in favor of them

and then my body which contains my mind is just one of many things that i have not noticed yet

i don't know if maybe this is irresponsible

borges wrote in an essay about this i think

I, as I write this, am only a certainty that seeks out the words that are most apt to compel your attention — that proposition and a few muscular sensations and the sight of the limpid branches that the trees place outside my window . . .

so maybe it is only this recount of worry that is narcissistic and irresponsible

and located somewhere between them is my failure to do / feel able to do anything of or toward any consequence in helping anyone

i don't know i am very confused and it seems like this confusion is also irresponsible and an excuse in the way you can hide in blankets and the blankets can feel very safe though they are not safe at all and you know that

i don't know this post feels 'indulgent' and 'juvenile'