April 22 Today hiked to the crater of Mount Etna. First and possibly last time on a volcano. The thing about nature is, for me, the beauty fades as soon as it's not right in front of me. I think there's something about awe in the face of raw experiences of natural beauty that I just don't understand. I feel a little left out because a lot of other people seem to understand it. I would infinitely prefer spending my morning on a good conversation and an espresso in a cafe, I think. maybe I should feel bad writing this given that it's Earth Day? April 1 She and I always used to get into arguments about this: Do people do what they like, or do they do what they know? I said that people do what they like to do, even when those desires seem perverse or strangely oriented against them or even self-destructive. Sometimes desires are all of the above. Desire does not equal thing that is good for me. She always argued that people do what they know, and it's not always what they like. She said people repeat what they know even when it's bad for them. For me, that's not a fucked-up enough idea to be true. I agree insofar as that people repeat what they know-- I just think they do it because they like it. They like to repeat what's familiar, and when they stop liking it, maybe consciously or at some unconscious level, then they'll change. I think desire always leads the way, whether you know it or not. I respect her way of thinking about the world but there was a lot we didn't see eye to eye on. Even now, I'm writing about her in the past tense. March 24 Palm Sunday in a very Catholic town in Mexico, and it's nice, I like it here, I like all the images and how decorative the church sanctuaries are, and I like the tradition and the devotion to something that happens every year. This evening can smell firewood burning. March 13 There's a difference between living a conventional life and being conventional in spirit. You can lead an unconventional life while spiritually being a total conformist, and you can lead a relatively conventional life while internally being a freak. Both amaze me, in their way. I can think of examples of both kinds of people in my life, as well as people who are more straightforwardly conventional/conventional and unconventional/unconventional. Sometimes it's hard to differentiate between the surface & what's underneath. I prefer people with original attitudes and tastes, or even just a streak of weirdness, even if their lives look relatively bland from the outside. What bothers me most is the veneer of idiosyncrasy with nothing to back it up. Recently I met a couple who I think fit into the conventional life/streak of weirdness category pretty neatly. I liked this conventional couple because they had a weird sense of humor. They had a joke where they would grab each other as if they were furious and ask "Where the FUCK did you sleep last night?" Obviously they shared a two-bedroom apartment together. Apart from how much I enjoyed that joke, we really had nothing in common, but that joke won me over instantly. Where the fuck did you sleep last night. Feb 29 Feeling more open lately, like I want to be sharing things with people that previously I would have kept to myself. Feels like the most positive possible development for my life ??? February 19 Listening to real estate guys talk at a coffeeshop and feeling depressed. February 15 I just laughed so hard reading this last entry from like two years ago. I did fail to read Malcolm Lowry's "Under the Volcano": but it was a book that broke me of a bad habit. The bad habit was that I had to read every book all the way through. And I would only read one book at a time. So if I hated it, or it put me to sleep, or I found it spiritually depleting, too bad, because I had to finish it. This is a bad habit because time is extremely limited. I believe in reading books that challenge me, but not books I'm not getting anything from, or that don't have any interest, or aren't exciting. Reading should be exciting to some mental faculty, even if it's not creating "enjoyment." I'm not necessarily seeking pleasure, but reading should stimulate. Even negatively."Under the Volcano" broke me in this respect. I read the first page and I only had one thought: "nope. Not right now." And I put the 400-page brick (or whatever) down, and took it back to the library. So god bless Malcolm Lowry. I have a feeling I will read it at some point, because it comes highly recommended from a variety of sources. Joy Williams says Malcolm Lowry "explodes on the lintel of your mind." What a sentence. Over the summer I was reading a book that started out OK and took a turn for the worse. It was Richard Ford's short story collection "A Multitude of Sins." The first stories were OK, but not as good as "Rock Springs," which I had read just prior, and which I thought "rocked." Haha. By 3/4 of the way through AMOS I thought it was bad, which is to say that the stories were fake or insincere or mean-spirited in some way. I had a legitimate complaint with that book. It's not that the subject matter made me uncomfortable, or something like that. The attitude of the writer, underneath the characters, repelled me. It was the first time I had ever had that experience with a book. Of finding the writer's spirit repulsive. And really being able to feel it. The stories in "A Multitude of Sins" repelled me in equal and opposite measure to the way the stories in "Rock Springs" entranced me. It's hard to put my finger on, but it left a bad taste in my mouth. So I stopped reading it. Why would I finish a book that's leaving a bad taste in my mouth? And that was how I stopped reading one book all the way through. Now I have seven books going at once. I've been reading Madame Bovary for a month, slowly. And I'm much happier like this. -- October 19 I tried to read "Under the Volcano." And I failed. June 9 (Just kidding, using dates) ------------------------------------- | | | a cleanse: | | no social media | | no alcohol | | no drugs | | no wasting time | | | ------------------------------------- I want to know what's been going on with me lately. But I need to accept: it's mysterious. Favorite listening right now: nts.live/shows/all-styles-all-smiles Favorite food right now: chocolate cake. But I shouldn't. Sunday February 28: This is becoming an end of the month ritual because I'm too busy and forgetful. I just bookmarked Special Fish in my browser to help me remember to spend more time on here. I have little collections of objects on my desk. To make the month feel new I'm going to move them around. I have some pins that look like the earth that a coworker sent to me. I have a cigarette that I found on the ground, unsmoked, after a delivery man came and left my building. I don't smoke but I like to look at it. I have some perfume bottles that I don't like to look at, and maybe I should consider putting the perfume in better bottles. I have a statuette of Ned Flanders holding the Bible. I have a tiny globe in a clear plastic shell that my mother kept on her desk in grade school. I have a playing card that is very ordinary. I have some stamps and little pieces of paper that are a nice size. I have a postcard from the Pompidou center in Metz. I have a photo of the ocean in a clear plastic laminated page that I found while hiking on a trail in the Catskills. I have an envelope with a magazine in it and a nice note written on it. I have a wooden or maybe aux-wooden tape dispenser. I have a tall ugly candle in a glass ashtray (that my roommate wants to smoke out of but I won't let her). I have photos of my girlfriend in a plastic frame. I have a bag of tiny people that I think they use in architectural models. And I have a red bowl that my sister sculpted when she was like five years old. Seriously it is so cool and I think some of the best ceramics/art I have ever seen, period. It's the kind of thing that when I move I am carrying over to my new apartment by hand, I'd never pack it in a box. She carved her name into the bottom of it and misspelled her own name, which is also really great and makes it even more valuable to me. Sunday, January 31: Tonight there was a fight on my street corner. I watched it happen, although I knew I was rubbernecking and it wasn't any of my business anyway. One guy had a baseball bat and it seemed like his entire family was out on the street corner. I think they were worried he was going to get hurt. A little boy was standing in the snow with no shoes on. I kept looking to see if maybe he was wearing shoes, but I think he wasn't. The police came after a few minutes, and sent everyone home. I think it was probably a good thing they did because both of the men wanted to keep fighting each other. Sunday, January 10: It is snowing in Texas, but the snow is melting before it hits the ground, so it is just a soft rain. I have two hungry dogs and they want my honey nut cheerios. I am probably going to give them some. Thursday, January 7: I'm here on Special Fish. Thursday, November 19: Watching a firetruck from a long way away is a disconcerting experience. They’re rushing to an emergency very very slowly, and you get a sense of how small and insignificant any response to a real emergency is. Just a tiny truck on the horizon rolling slowly toward the fire.