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Mar. 18th, 2002 03:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
goldenmeanWoke up after not enough sleep to Nea trying to cover me in a thin layer of herself. She's a sweet cat, but she sheds like mad. Mike has taken to collecting her hair and rolling it into rope. The tensile strength of siamese hair seems pretty impressive. It's clear we both need jobs. Anyway, didn't really feel up to veging out on the couch all day watching tv, so I decided to kill some time by going out walking (I think at least partially because I got into the habit of DDRing every day while I was house-sitting for Numa-Dan (at least until I broke his machine. Eep!), and now I'm used to the idea of some sort of daily exercise regimen, and Death Guild is probably going to be way too crowded to dance at tonight)
Went out of the house and was sniffed at excitedly by a puppy who escaped from its owner and ran across the street for the express purpose of nuzzling me. I'm not really wild about dogs, but this one scored points and put me in a fairly good state of mind. Decided to try and actually use the time walking to enjoy walking, instead of just walking to kill time until going out tonight. No point in me actively killing time, it'll die peacefully on it's own accord. I used to go out walking all the time, mainly when I was still in college, and occasionally I'd be suffused with a feeling that I was alive, and this was pretty much a good and enjoyable thing. It's a nice feeling, and one that I don't feel enough anymore (the cynical side of me tells me that it's just an endorphin high, but when you get down to it on a purely physical neurochem level, love is much the same, or awe, or transcendance, so why split hairs?). I used to get it almost every time I went out dancing, but now it's more hit or miss. More miss than hit. I should probably try to go and do more new and interesting things, but I'm very much a creature of habit and inertia, and right now this particular particle doesn't have enough energy to escape from it's potential well. Maybe I can exhibit some sort of wavelike behaviour and undergo quantum tunneling to escape. Who knows?
Anyway, thusly armed with a purpose to walk and enjoy the act of walking, I head down webster with the bedrock track from Groove in my head (Mainly because there's a scene in Groove where they talk about the feeling of being alive that I was just maundering over (Also, if you haven't seen Groove, it's fairly entertaining, but I don't know if I'd really recommend it unless you were already familiar with or at least interested in the rave scene. Most of the enjoyment comes from "Oh, wow, I've *so* been there" moments I think)). For no particular reason I have the word agglutination in my head. These things happen. Proceed to walk down Webster, then Fillmore toward the bay, decide to hang a left and do a grand circle and eventually return to HO13D. Enjoying turning down streets I've never been down before, and in all having fun walking, but not quite getting the feeling of micro-satori that I was hoping for. Not really surprising, these things can't be forced, and there's enough other muck bouncing around my head that it's hard to attain the state of no-mind requisite for that feeling to manifest. Remind myself that I really don't like the city all that much. Never really intended to end up here, but my last place in the ebay turned all icky, and then Val was here, and then the job at Sapient was here, and so it seemed like the logical choice. Now the job's not here, and almost all of my friends have left or are leaving the city. With the upcoming dissolution of the House of 13 Doors, there's not going to be much keeping me here I guess. Still have people close to the city that I don't want to get farther from, but very few in the city proper. Hrm.
Soundtrack for walking and thinking (all in my head, I've never owned a discman)
The The-Love is Stronger than Death (Me and my friend were walking, in the cold light of morning. Tears may blind the eyes, but the soul is not deceived. In this world, even winter ain't what it seems)
Bedrock (Dunda da, dunda da, dunda da)
Einsturzende Neubaten-Feurio (Marinus, Marinus, hoerst du mich. Marinus, du warst es nicht, es war koenig feurio)
Machines of Loving Grace-Butterfly Wings (Don't place faith in human beings. Human beings are unreliable things. Don't place faith in human beings. Human beings or butterfly wings)
Good songs. And each has a particular memory tied to it. Like pretty much all of my music. I think that I imprint emotions on songs and locations more readily than most people. All of those songs have good memories associated, so at least my internal jukebox algorithm seems to be in a good mood.
Butterfly Wings gets me thinking about predestination and chaos theory, and how much choice do we really have in anything we do. How many times in our life do we make a decision that actually alters our life significantly? And how often does it actually involve a conscious choice, and not just wandering around on auto-pilot? I don't think it's really that frequent at all (song snippet - This is the day, your life will surely change. This is the day, when things fall into place. You could've done anything if you'd wanted. And all your friends and family think that you're lucky. But the side of you that they'll never see is when you're left alone with your memories that hold your life together... like glue). I can only pick a couple of days in my life that might have caused a major branching, and significantly changed the course of my life. And most of those were pretty predetermined by my nature. Hard working everything back to first causes. And probably ultimately pointless, but my mind still likes to nibble at it sometimes. Certainly wouldn't have been a vegetarian if my parents weren't tibetan buddhists. Wonder what caused my dad to choose that particular religion. Wonder what caused the stimulus that caused the stimulus that caused etc. etc. Occasionally feel like I'm just wandering around a very very complicated differential equation with unseen initial conditions. Not really bothered by this, as I always enjoyed cranking through equations by rote about as much or more than actually getting behind the equation and seeing what made it tick. Sometimes things are just the way they are, and as long as you don't mind how they are, I don't really see the point in figuring out why they are the way they are. Probably why I never ended up a math major. Once you got into truly inane things like proving that 5 does in fact equal 5, I just wanted to scrawl BECAUSE on the exam and leave in a huff. I am growing increasingly tangential. I promise that this all makes sense to me, if not to anyone else.
Swing by the gamestore quickly on my way back home. Lots of nostalgia about working at San Rafael Gamescape 4 years ago. Having sushi with Hep every day. Trying to read between the lines of conversation. Apologizing profusely for not having Pokemon cards throughout the day. Hanging out with Will all day long. Drunken after-hours magic tourneys. Having absolutely no money at all. Subsisting on a diet of penguin mints, and subway sandwiches. Thankful for the boon of subway club cards. Used to hoard completed cards for the end of the month once the money had run out. Abusing my Shrine laminate to go clubbing every night of the week. More penguin mints to make it through the next day. Shrine was at it's peak, or getting there, and I was the official greeting committee. Good days. Anyway, not much happening at the gamestore, so I wander home with Bad Religion in my head, as it seems to fit my current mood of "Metaphysics is hard, let's go shopping tee-hee".
Life is the sieve through which my anarchy strains. Resolving itself into words. Chaos is the score upon which reality is written. The timeless swirling gyroscopic horde. Delerium of disorder (repeat a bunch). I am just an atom in an ectoplasmic sea without direction or a reason to exist, the anechoic nebula rotating in my brain, is persuading me contritely to persist
I have many words in my head.
If I went back to school today and had to pick a major it would be particle physics. This opinion will change in the next couple hours.
Went out of the house and was sniffed at excitedly by a puppy who escaped from its owner and ran across the street for the express purpose of nuzzling me. I'm not really wild about dogs, but this one scored points and put me in a fairly good state of mind. Decided to try and actually use the time walking to enjoy walking, instead of just walking to kill time until going out tonight. No point in me actively killing time, it'll die peacefully on it's own accord. I used to go out walking all the time, mainly when I was still in college, and occasionally I'd be suffused with a feeling that I was alive, and this was pretty much a good and enjoyable thing. It's a nice feeling, and one that I don't feel enough anymore (the cynical side of me tells me that it's just an endorphin high, but when you get down to it on a purely physical neurochem level, love is much the same, or awe, or transcendance, so why split hairs?). I used to get it almost every time I went out dancing, but now it's more hit or miss. More miss than hit. I should probably try to go and do more new and interesting things, but I'm very much a creature of habit and inertia, and right now this particular particle doesn't have enough energy to escape from it's potential well. Maybe I can exhibit some sort of wavelike behaviour and undergo quantum tunneling to escape. Who knows?
Anyway, thusly armed with a purpose to walk and enjoy the act of walking, I head down webster with the bedrock track from Groove in my head (Mainly because there's a scene in Groove where they talk about the feeling of being alive that I was just maundering over (Also, if you haven't seen Groove, it's fairly entertaining, but I don't know if I'd really recommend it unless you were already familiar with or at least interested in the rave scene. Most of the enjoyment comes from "Oh, wow, I've *so* been there" moments I think)). For no particular reason I have the word agglutination in my head. These things happen. Proceed to walk down Webster, then Fillmore toward the bay, decide to hang a left and do a grand circle and eventually return to HO13D. Enjoying turning down streets I've never been down before, and in all having fun walking, but not quite getting the feeling of micro-satori that I was hoping for. Not really surprising, these things can't be forced, and there's enough other muck bouncing around my head that it's hard to attain the state of no-mind requisite for that feeling to manifest. Remind myself that I really don't like the city all that much. Never really intended to end up here, but my last place in the ebay turned all icky, and then Val was here, and then the job at Sapient was here, and so it seemed like the logical choice. Now the job's not here, and almost all of my friends have left or are leaving the city. With the upcoming dissolution of the House of 13 Doors, there's not going to be much keeping me here I guess. Still have people close to the city that I don't want to get farther from, but very few in the city proper. Hrm.
Soundtrack for walking and thinking (all in my head, I've never owned a discman)
The The-Love is Stronger than Death (Me and my friend were walking, in the cold light of morning. Tears may blind the eyes, but the soul is not deceived. In this world, even winter ain't what it seems)
Bedrock (Dunda da, dunda da, dunda da)
Einsturzende Neubaten-Feurio (Marinus, Marinus, hoerst du mich. Marinus, du warst es nicht, es war koenig feurio)
Machines of Loving Grace-Butterfly Wings (Don't place faith in human beings. Human beings are unreliable things. Don't place faith in human beings. Human beings or butterfly wings)
Good songs. And each has a particular memory tied to it. Like pretty much all of my music. I think that I imprint emotions on songs and locations more readily than most people. All of those songs have good memories associated, so at least my internal jukebox algorithm seems to be in a good mood.
Butterfly Wings gets me thinking about predestination and chaos theory, and how much choice do we really have in anything we do. How many times in our life do we make a decision that actually alters our life significantly? And how often does it actually involve a conscious choice, and not just wandering around on auto-pilot? I don't think it's really that frequent at all (song snippet - This is the day, your life will surely change. This is the day, when things fall into place. You could've done anything if you'd wanted. And all your friends and family think that you're lucky. But the side of you that they'll never see is when you're left alone with your memories that hold your life together... like glue). I can only pick a couple of days in my life that might have caused a major branching, and significantly changed the course of my life. And most of those were pretty predetermined by my nature. Hard working everything back to first causes. And probably ultimately pointless, but my mind still likes to nibble at it sometimes. Certainly wouldn't have been a vegetarian if my parents weren't tibetan buddhists. Wonder what caused my dad to choose that particular religion. Wonder what caused the stimulus that caused the stimulus that caused etc. etc. Occasionally feel like I'm just wandering around a very very complicated differential equation with unseen initial conditions. Not really bothered by this, as I always enjoyed cranking through equations by rote about as much or more than actually getting behind the equation and seeing what made it tick. Sometimes things are just the way they are, and as long as you don't mind how they are, I don't really see the point in figuring out why they are the way they are. Probably why I never ended up a math major. Once you got into truly inane things like proving that 5 does in fact equal 5, I just wanted to scrawl BECAUSE on the exam and leave in a huff. I am growing increasingly tangential. I promise that this all makes sense to me, if not to anyone else.
Swing by the gamestore quickly on my way back home. Lots of nostalgia about working at San Rafael Gamescape 4 years ago. Having sushi with Hep every day. Trying to read between the lines of conversation. Apologizing profusely for not having Pokemon cards throughout the day. Hanging out with Will all day long. Drunken after-hours magic tourneys. Having absolutely no money at all. Subsisting on a diet of penguin mints, and subway sandwiches. Thankful for the boon of subway club cards. Used to hoard completed cards for the end of the month once the money had run out. Abusing my Shrine laminate to go clubbing every night of the week. More penguin mints to make it through the next day. Shrine was at it's peak, or getting there, and I was the official greeting committee. Good days. Anyway, not much happening at the gamestore, so I wander home with Bad Religion in my head, as it seems to fit my current mood of "Metaphysics is hard, let's go shopping tee-hee".
Life is the sieve through which my anarchy strains. Resolving itself into words. Chaos is the score upon which reality is written. The timeless swirling gyroscopic horde. Delerium of disorder (repeat a bunch). I am just an atom in an ectoplasmic sea without direction or a reason to exist, the anechoic nebula rotating in my brain, is persuading me contritely to persist
I have many words in my head.
If I went back to school today and had to pick a major it would be particle physics. This opinion will change in the next couple hours.
