unlucky me

1.I'm prone to bouts of psychotic depression
2.My fingers understand the female genitalia like a blind speed reader's understand the braille alphabet.
3.I have many good friends who I love very much.
4.I more often fantasize about riding the rails of a post apocalyptic wasteland of the American West. Along with air condition, long black hair and coat which billow in the wind, cowboy boots and a black gun. Make that two.
5.I'm often impulsive and quick to anger.
6.I think about sex a lot.
7.Insecurity and alienation are similar but not identical feelings. I feel the both in about equal measure.
8.Which is weird, because at the same time, I really am full of hubris with respect to my mental faculties. So much so that I reckon stupid people are the fly(ies) in the bottle that wittengenstein wished to remove
9.I like to imagine sometimes a possible world where I'm a guerilla freedom fighter and intellectual like che guevarra.
10.Cutting loose with emotions like Hate and Jealousy and Anger really make me feel good. But I cant do that. Ever.
11.I like to self-apply the adjective "snarling" and also "iconoclastic." My internal picture of myself is a sort of epic cool curmudgeonly rebellious figure.
12.I don't understand why people don't wonder about the things I wonder about and why they haven't come to the same conclusions I have.
13.I like to borrow other peoples thoughts.

I need to go to juris today.
I need to go to juris today.
I need to go to juris today.
I need to go to juris today.
I need to go to juris today.

That thought kept ringing in my head all of last night. To the point where I couldn’t sleep properly

As the time neared, and I perused what we were gonna discuss today, I had an epiphany.

I was scared to go back to school.

Scared of what the kids would think if this new kid showed up after a three week long hiatus.
Scared of how much backlog I would have.
Scared of the more work that’s awaiting me.

So I ditched juris. Someone help me.

There is something odd and very unique about waking up before the world wakes for no apparent reason. I had just replied a very important email, and I feel as if a load has been lifted off my shoulders. Thank you.

This is not about you J, its about others. They know who they are. I suddenly feel the hatred boiling up within me. I will no longer be the one who clings on, like I have done.

This is gonna be a post of shout-outs.

Steph, this blog is gonna become a shrine to you if this doesn’t stop. So one last time, for sometime. Thank you for being there. You keep my sanity in this household. You are really the fulcrum of this whole operation.

Tk, Angela – my two law buddies. What could I do without you guys. Its nice to here a “Come back to school, we’d catch up”. Its comforting to know people give a shit, but yet not engage in the kinda empathetic “aw….you gonna fuck it up if you don’t come” speech. It means more to me than you guys know. And much as I seldom say it, I dedicate last years results to both of you. Tk, despite the drunken snide remarks, I know you’ve got my back and I sure as hell got yours.

Jie, thanks for buying Laws’ Empire for me!! I know you have a lazy bro!

Thank you all, for recognising me as an undeserving and overrated human being

She was a lucid dreamer, one which certain obnoxious new age types use the term oneironaut, literally "dream explorer" in greek, to describe the sort of dream experiences that people like her have. She has lamented to me about what was known in Elizabethan England as "Old Hag Syndrome", where persons describe waking from deep sleep to find that they cannot move and feeling completely terrified to discover an Old Hag sitting on their chest or at the edge of their bed. Incidentally, these symptoms within her seems to imply a mind/body dualism that both my wittgensteinian leanings and general acceptance of the James-Lange theory of emotion tend to reject.

She, at times, suffers from hypnopompic paralysis, a form of sleep paralysis that can occur in the twilighted space between dreaming and waking. hypnopompic paralysis occurs when the mind awakes but the body is still sleeping and unresponsive.

She prides herself on great sex, intimate moments and romanticises everything nasty in the world into something beautiful, indulgently and sometimes unreasonably. She dreams of holidays spent in the Lawrence garden huts, the cruise in Garcia-marquez’ choleric era, the South African safaris in the Coetzee tradition – dreams she will never fulfil, but that never discouraged her from trying. There is in this tradition a heritico-iconoclastic disavowal of the metaphysical which is encoded in metaphysical language. But you do not understand Kafka if you do not understand his works for the beautiful failures that they are. This is the essence of sex qua sex, the absence of ego in the presence of a beautiful failure, driving the phallus like a machine at the vagina walls and coating it in semen as the act collapses on both actors.

She privileges sexual desire and even friendship over jealousy within a hierarchy of "good" and "bad" emotions in a ludicrous and ostentatious manner, and attempts to rationalize away the validity of such "negative" emotions (vanity, hate, envy, anger), as crypto-catholic-ally as the polyamory community accuses advocates of monogamy of being.

She now resides in the Void, away from my life and conscious mind, and eats on plain air and drinks inky black liquid.

She is still dreaming

When it comes to writing an essay, my introduction is always (I feel) my best paragraph. It gives me free reign to express my more artistic, as opposed to logical, side and use literary words and phrases. Having said that, my past two essays have been very Wittgenstein in nature and I think I need to experiment with something else. Not for procuring marks, for many of my lines are circumlocutory and irrelevant, but for pure indulgence.

Incidentally, it would completely make my day if my optional jurisprudence topic would include something on Wittgenstein; philosophy of language is so interesting; and his exposition of the rules of “ordinary” language, intriguing.

Special thanks to steph for being such a sweetie and packing my room, making my bed and all. =)

I typed the last entry extemporarily. I’m going to delete it, since some people might get hurt.

Steph, you are such a reliable buddy. Thank you for always being there. Im more touched and grateful thank you think