I think I have a problem of letting go. Okay, that's probably an understatement. I definitely do have a problem of letting go, but before, I only focused on letting go of things that were already fading or dying, not petty things that I had no business of possessing in the first place.
I think stress just magnifies the pettiness in everyone, until the need for control becomes the most out-of-control of all, looming over the rest like an eye atop a lone tower, until the inescapable gaze rests upon the most insignificant things, setting it aflame, until every thought and stilted perception becomes shrouded under a cloud of smoke; until our fears dive under it, unseen; until we are lost in what we are afraid of.
**
Monday, January 25, 2010
Saturday, January 16, 2010
existence
I don't know why these surface, sensory (or mushy, as you call it) things affect me so. It's like they gently reach inside me and wake something up there. These crystals fall and I don't know where they come from. And if I turn the connection back to you, it melts like wax, seamlessly into place.
It's like I constantly have to say good-byes, if not in this physical realm, then at least somewhere that you'd never know about, but that doesn't diminish their existence into any less.
Augustine reasoned, I doubt that I exist, and the very fact that I doubt proves my existence. And Descartes, even more succinctly, simply concluded: I think, therefore I am.
You know how I know these good-byes exist? Because the pain is always real. I can pretend them away, but their absence is actually the true superficial, sensory experience. Because these white lies have no power over me, certainly no more than those across a silver screen.
**
It's like I constantly have to say good-byes, if not in this physical realm, then at least somewhere that you'd never know about, but that doesn't diminish their existence into any less.
Augustine reasoned, I doubt that I exist, and the very fact that I doubt proves my existence. And Descartes, even more succinctly, simply concluded: I think, therefore I am.
You know how I know these good-byes exist? Because the pain is always real. I can pretend them away, but their absence is actually the true superficial, sensory experience. Because these white lies have no power over me, certainly no more than those across a silver screen.
**
Monday, January 11, 2010
economics
"'I would never want to belong to any club that would have someone like me for a member.'" That's the key joke of my adult life, in terms of my relationships."
This is pretty much the Cliffnotes version of my histories, except some older, more articulate man beat me to it.
Though it doesn't follow logically, the reverse is also true. If someone were to reject my application for a membership, its stock instantly skyrockets in my book. Even though I'm getting better at managing my assets, the blow never completely leaves me unscathed. What is a perfectly rational agent supposed to do in this case?
**
This is pretty much the Cliffnotes version of my histories, except some older, more articulate man beat me to it.
Though it doesn't follow logically, the reverse is also true. If someone were to reject my application for a membership, its stock instantly skyrockets in my book. Even though I'm getting better at managing my assets, the blow never completely leaves me unscathed. What is a perfectly rational agent supposed to do in this case?
**