4.10.2020/AGENDA> “Everything has been figured out, except how to live.”

First page from my scrap book. Dedicated to having finished reading Frank Herbert’s ‘Dune’ and with a hint in the lower right hand corner that I’m watching ‘Mr. Robot’ again, all the way through this time.


“He understood terrible purposes. They drove against all odds. They were their own necessity. Paul felt that he had been infected with terrible purpose. He did not know yet what the terrible purpose was.”
― Frank Herbert, Dune

Just watched Mr. Robot Season 1 : Episode 6. Elliot Alderson starts off alienated. And how do you humanize the alienated? Why, with intimate experiences of the depths of misery, of course. Boy, you’re gonna carry that weight for a long time. But take heart, the evil shadow demon who you yourself recognized kinship with, has acknowledged your sympatico. He let you pass through him. Close the trunk, and run. What have we learned. The impossible. Guard your love better. Guard your love better. Guard your love better. “I can think of a way,” was the line of the day.

Not being able to walk to the coffee shop means I am struggling to get my steps in, and I go crazy if I don’t get some exercise. I am walking around my place tonight just back and forth in the hall and living room, listening to the Marcel Proust ‘Remembrance of Things Past’ audiobook.

Every day I can’t get out of this house and head in the direction of any destination feels stifling because I end up wasting the first half of the day on social media, which is why I walk out the door cause I know I waste time on it.

But my sleep schedule is also fucked and other stuff is piling up. I feel like I am in a validation crisis.

I feel like I need to self-actualize.

Like set my own standards and goals, realize my potential on my own motivating powers, and step up to my potential. But at the same time there are so many things about the basics in my life that I really want to change and are fully legitimate reasons why my life isn’t anywhere near where I want it to be. Things I want to change, and things I have no way to even begin to change. And also, what does a perfect world of self-consistency, (or, still-chaotic but driven and purposeful) look like? Should I focus more on trying to sell my stories in the marketplaces available? Seek validation through publication that way? Or should I worry about writing to my own voice and focus on the novel it will take me probably years to complete, with a dearth of validation in the interim?

I heard somewhere that the American dream used to be, in fact, to be famous. Maybe I need more of an audience for my voice.

But I am too much of a disruptor and far too mentally ill to ever be taken seriously as an influencer of society. Most of my social media posts are me working out my anxiety by pushing my alienation and rage in the guise of progress. I recognize the need for incrementalism in every day life, because this is how time and reality function. What I am in fact yelling at the screen is that there is not enough of anything real in my own existence, not in the world. And that I feel the meaningless and end of purpose encroaching on me from all sides and want someone to reach out to me, not the pressure drop and tornado howl that is indicated by my screeching winds. But the computer desktop is my confessional. I have no where else to go. I have no other conduit to the source. Other than when I tire of vocalizing my pain and seek refuge in the steady source of wisdom, my books, my movies, the art I have surrounding me in my abode, lonesome. It’s not enough, and that’s why I howl. I wake, and stir up the dust. Rather than making tracks and leaving it behind me. I am dissatisfaction.

“Am I fight or flight?” Elliot asked himself in the episode of Mr. Robot. I am the inadequacy of either response. I am fear. I am rage. I am panic. – I’m listening to some lectures by Robert C. Solomon, the professor who is expert in Existential philosophy, talking about ‘The Passions’ aka the emotions. I need to revisit that. I think he was saying something I wasn’t ready to hear in the last lecture. Like that psychological thing where when you’re not fully prepared to listen, you only hear. It’s still under the waves and not above the surface yet. I’m also reading a religious book for a character study, that says our only job is to spend time studying what God wants. Or, what I mean to say here, is, just listening. It’s called ‘Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World’ and it’s about the parable of Mary and Martha where Martha gets angry cause she’s doing all the work when Jesus and his disciples show up to her house for dinner, meanwhile Mary is sitting in the living room, shirking chores and just listening attentively to Jesus speak. I dunno.

After I waste all my energy yelling at the screen on Facebook I do tell myself I need to vastly simplify. But that seems fucking daunting, as paradoxical as that sounds. I simply want to do too many things. I want to write an amazing novel with tons of great insight. I want to read a million books to learn and research for that novel. I want to watch some great shows and movies. I want to spend time with my writing group and foster those relationships. I really feel like I need some kind of guide to follow. And I haven’t found anything that fits the bill.

So I’ll tell you what we’ll do.

I’m gonna figure out what’s mine. And keep it close to me.
So here’s us, on the raggedy edge.

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