Look closely but not too close. So you see nothing… look far, but not too far, so nothing sees you. K. said that when I say I don’t know, I really mean to say no, which made me realize that even what I say never means really what it says, that there’s a distinct personality Continue reading

Life. Gombrowicz. part of why I’ve decided to follow this plan that I have. Part of why it is totally unrelated to philosophy, on the surface at least. See, the shades of shades, the effects around it, the paths that permeate rather than diverge; I don’t care where they’re fromI only care how one uses Continue reading

I’m eating oatmeal and it’s 7:30. Have to leave for work. ugh–a single word of expression: nostalgia for something that has died, thus happened. Continue reading

If I can be unhappy and still go through with this tedious homework, then there will be no other times in which I could not do this thing, for I would never be this unhappy and find it as difficult as this again. Can I conclude this thought before I even found out about it Continue reading

Only when it’s summer do I miss summer, only when K. is here do I miss K. Who’s me through their eyes, the presence of presences, which are only presences of more people… Each exist within another; one must penetrate them. The inner penetration of the self with the self, others with others, all together Continue reading

where r u. abbreviations remind me of Cummings and Debussy. Or short forms. Debussy and Cummings. Saturday off work, how good it feels when the sun is still blistering. I’m thinking about autumn–the warm shades pressed under sleep. I’m lying on the sofa, thinking about nothing in particular but only the grass, the sun, the Continue reading

Suddenly, I’ve grown nostalgic for everything… the birds, trees, sun, faces, laughters, rain, nights, and mornings that are so early that look like evenings. Continue reading

Botanist. Warm day. ‘We’ll take it from here’ Home. K. … Continue reading

Debussy, 12 Etudes. #4. When will I finish? Prob the end of this year. Noon. Walk at lighthouse park. Drizzling dizzy. Sap from big secreting trees. Home. Movie: Veteran. Dinner: fried rice. Nothing interesting. Extremely thirsty at night. But oh, how warm the night feels, I must go somewhere and stay late till night, because Continue reading

20. 10 years ago, I remember that I had a diary, and I wrote something in it. This was when i turned ten. Now, I’m twenty, and it’s strange, because I have passed another ten years which would’ve been my whole life again ten years ago, but it’s really only half, as of now, that Continue reading