couture
im not really going to explain why im sitting in total (albeit nicely cool) darkness to write this. ive made friends, enemies, and then friends again (kept me from one potentially awful case of vertigo, that dear) with the fusebox in the basement, but for all that our relationship is now deep and meaningful, id rather not see it for a while.
this totally insufficient self ive found myself burdened with is starting to fight back. she seems to know better than i do at present, know that im just as likely to get roped into something awful as stumble onto my long-lost hidden talent, and that im kidding myself about something, though she might not be sure what. the biggest issue right now being the creative/consumptive paradigm, do i really suffer enough when i dont create, like hell whatve i actually done in the past year, and (not even considering relative importance here) what am i going to do in the next, and the one after that, and maybe once i have a career plan like EVERYONE ELSE i can join a gym and get a dog and grow plants and live somewhere that doenst require slating ten extra minutes into my morning for roach extermination/disposal, and remember how to relate to people. yeah i guess that last addendum there didnt really fit, right, i know, its staying anyway.
to return, it feels like theres so much doing that nothings getting done, for or by me, that for all intents im neither creating nor consuming, im just halfway not even there for all the do. as in: have you ever felt really stupid all day long for wearing something you actually kind of hate, because you tried to make a decision in the morning, but the weather/lack of time/need to do laundry got in the way, so youre presenting yourself as this thing that actually kind of annoys you? sure, its presentation ( - representation - or, as in the discussion i had with a very nice fellow at the hotpants party, who the hell cares how you present, or represent, when you can misrepresent yourself in a smart way? these are the moneymakers, the virtual misrepresenters), and it may or may not mean anything, but youre clothing yourself in fabric you literally dont like, and who the hell does that, and what justification is there - or is it a total fallacy that it needs to be justified anyway? heres the problem. youre going to present yourself, one way or another, and you can actively like it or dislike it or not care, or whatever, but you do what you do by intention, is the general plan, but then you get so sucked into other things (brush teeth or look for that shirt for another five minutes?), and things compress, and i end up, inevitably, either smelling funny or looking funny, and yes this is because i cannot get up before 8.30 to get to a job that i never have to be on time to. but of course i wont be late, either; theres that conscience again little fucker.
all of which is me trying to explain why i look like shit all of the time and feel vaguely inadequate about it. not just because i cant dress myself but because i feel like im not good at the process of dressing (allegory, people, if i hear another catty bitch talk about how ohmygod im such a tramp because i like shoes, seriously, ok it was funny the first time and will be again, but id rather we didnt): a heavier leaning on the symbolism - creation! distinction! individual-snowflakiness! - and an increasing ineptness with the underlying signified. i am all vague wishes and cravings, starting with "work out all these little superficial inadequacies (which are of course vague and undefined) so you can please, honey, move on to something that matters (even more amorphous, of course)." i suppose i could discuss interesting things,the unmarked irish speakeasy, seeing liz last weekend, why i am never going back to puck fair. but honestly i dont care, and im not thinking about it; im thinking about my unplucked eyebrows and why they were fine being unplucked two years ago but now i feel compelled to kind of small-scale freak at them in the morning (and not have time to do anything about it, which cycle, for about ten days now, has really started to amuse me). i can only assume that yes, its complicated, but it starts with Whats A Given, whats your infrastructure and your underlying assumptions, whats your context and expectation. and im back to what i was saying before, but more: not only am i just barely figuring out what this city is trying to do to me, its making me figure out whats been going on for the past god-knows-how-long, too, because everything is such a fucking process. the givens that worked their way in somehow without your noticing...what a stupid, awful feeling, that they did that to you...what else has changed you? when did you start swallowing your words, waiting for consensus, fear too much black, need sleep? and - god, worse - did you make all these decisions yourself, did you do this to yourself, and of course youre responsible but is this the best you could come up with? thats the catch; what if you come out disappointed? what if because of this stubborn unwillingness to compromise matched with random, occasional, overpowering fears (which, of course, cant be compromised) you end up kind of not who you are? god, why are you wearing this fucking skirt? you hate this skirt.
this totally insufficient self ive found myself burdened with is starting to fight back. she seems to know better than i do at present, know that im just as likely to get roped into something awful as stumble onto my long-lost hidden talent, and that im kidding myself about something, though she might not be sure what. the biggest issue right now being the creative/consumptive paradigm, do i really suffer enough when i dont create, like hell whatve i actually done in the past year, and (not even considering relative importance here) what am i going to do in the next, and the one after that, and maybe once i have a career plan like EVERYONE ELSE i can join a gym and get a dog and grow plants and live somewhere that doenst require slating ten extra minutes into my morning for roach extermination/disposal, and remember how to relate to people. yeah i guess that last addendum there didnt really fit, right, i know, its staying anyway.
to return, it feels like theres so much doing that nothings getting done, for or by me, that for all intents im neither creating nor consuming, im just halfway not even there for all the do. as in: have you ever felt really stupid all day long for wearing something you actually kind of hate, because you tried to make a decision in the morning, but the weather/lack of time/need to do laundry got in the way, so youre presenting yourself as this thing that actually kind of annoys you? sure, its presentation ( - representation - or, as in the discussion i had with a very nice fellow at the hotpants party, who the hell cares how you present, or represent, when you can misrepresent yourself in a smart way? these are the moneymakers, the virtual misrepresenters), and it may or may not mean anything, but youre clothing yourself in fabric you literally dont like, and who the hell does that, and what justification is there - or is it a total fallacy that it needs to be justified anyway? heres the problem. youre going to present yourself, one way or another, and you can actively like it or dislike it or not care, or whatever, but you do what you do by intention, is the general plan, but then you get so sucked into other things (brush teeth or look for that shirt for another five minutes?), and things compress, and i end up, inevitably, either smelling funny or looking funny, and yes this is because i cannot get up before 8.30 to get to a job that i never have to be on time to. but of course i wont be late, either; theres that conscience again little fucker.
all of which is me trying to explain why i look like shit all of the time and feel vaguely inadequate about it. not just because i cant dress myself but because i feel like im not good at the process of dressing (allegory, people, if i hear another catty bitch talk about how ohmygod im such a tramp because i like shoes, seriously, ok it was funny the first time and will be again, but id rather we didnt): a heavier leaning on the symbolism - creation! distinction! individual-snowflakiness! - and an increasing ineptness with the underlying signified. i am all vague wishes and cravings, starting with "work out all these little superficial inadequacies (which are of course vague and undefined) so you can please, honey, move on to something that matters (even more amorphous, of course)." i suppose i could discuss interesting things,the unmarked irish speakeasy, seeing liz last weekend, why i am never going back to puck fair. but honestly i dont care, and im not thinking about it; im thinking about my unplucked eyebrows and why they were fine being unplucked two years ago but now i feel compelled to kind of small-scale freak at them in the morning (and not have time to do anything about it, which cycle, for about ten days now, has really started to amuse me). i can only assume that yes, its complicated, but it starts with Whats A Given, whats your infrastructure and your underlying assumptions, whats your context and expectation. and im back to what i was saying before, but more: not only am i just barely figuring out what this city is trying to do to me, its making me figure out whats been going on for the past god-knows-how-long, too, because everything is such a fucking process. the givens that worked their way in somehow without your noticing...what a stupid, awful feeling, that they did that to you...what else has changed you? when did you start swallowing your words, waiting for consensus, fear too much black, need sleep? and - god, worse - did you make all these decisions yourself, did you do this to yourself, and of course youre responsible but is this the best you could come up with? thats the catch; what if you come out disappointed? what if because of this stubborn unwillingness to compromise matched with random, occasional, overpowering fears (which, of course, cant be compromised) you end up kind of not who you are? god, why are you wearing this fucking skirt? you hate this skirt.
posted by j; at 22:28
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