Assorted Notes

WEDNESDAY, 13 OCTOBER 2004

01:27

Monday afternoon at 16:45 the wording of a thought came to me. The thought upset me somewhat. I figured, I if still remembered the thought by 18:00 I can make a note of it at home (the idea hatched during a class). Not only did I still remember the thought, but the state of mind that had given rise to the idea was still present at the appointed hour.

Nevertheless, I was home, I could watch a little TV, work on the computer, listen to music … and I had a fresh, steaming box of shrimp fried rice to satisfy my appetite. The idea had still not been written down by the time I went to bed.

* * *

This weekend I will again make an appearance where I will stoop so low as to feel embarrassed about the growing hairlessness of my scalp. Yes, there I’ll be, bald-headed, barefoot*, 33-year-old property-less, credit card-less, car-less, non-corporate, independent, unpublished “writer”.

I might just succeed in entertaining one or two ladies for a while with my intelligent and – seeing that I can’t manage to detach myself from the idea of arranging a date with one particular young woman – somewhat charming company. Before long, however, I will be pushed aside in favour of another male character who is so blessed to have hair on his head, and clothes in his closet in which appearances can be so much more impressive, and more in accordance with the fashion of the day.

I will therefore, after once again tying my shoes to my feet, rush back to the safety of my apartment that smells of loneliness and stale cigarette smoke. I might watch TV for a while, work on a project on the computer, play a few FreeCell games, listen to music, drink tea, and blow even more cigarette smoke at the walls and ceiling whilst contemplating the sustainability of my present life.

* [In Taiwan the custom is to take off your shoes before entering a dwelling.]

* * *

(Back to the penultimate notation)

This brings us to Wednesday at 16:26, almost 48 hours after the original idea – or the latest manifestation of an old idea, because a new idea it is definitely not.

* * *

Getting it, missing something … insights, ignorance … it’s all the same …

23:48

My life, as it currently stands, is not worth living, and I don’t have the necessary faith or conviction to make the changes to make it worth the effort.

I am losing my faith. I have reached the end of the road, and nothing at the end of it is as rosy as ignorance and blind faith.

I think of sex and money, as though I desperately believe that these are the ingredients that will make everything “different”. What does it say if that is my only remaining faith?

I hope to get up tomorrow morning, because I’ll be hungry and in need of coffee and a cigarette. I will go to my class because it will be less stressful than to pick up the phone and explain to the school that I don’t want to go. Plus, if I don’t make the effort to go to work, I will know the little red brick house that is the external structure and facade of my life is beginning to crumble.

Am I really close to an abyss? The funny thing is, I don’t know. I am like someone who is standing blindfolded on a pitch-black night on a steep cliff – I know the abyss is somewhere in my immediate vicinity, but I don’t know if it’s one or a hundred metres away. Why not? Because this state of mind has reigned in my life for the past … ten years? The only thing that kept this condition under control fifteen years ago was religious belief.

I cannot discuss these things with anyone.

(We don’t always see the things that push us closer to the abyss. We don’t recognise the faces for the people they really are.)

* * *

Hope. Not even faith is worth anything without hope.

* * *

(Who can understand?)

This may sound strange, but I actually believe in the existence of God – I just don’t know who or what God is. One of the reasons for this is my lack of trust in people; no one who talks about God is credible enough in my eyes (though many of these believers are honest and good people).

I also don’t believe or trust handed-down truth. Who am I to believe, after all? Protestants? Catholics? Muslims? Hindus? Jews? Everyone has their own agendas, and there are reasons why all these groups of “believers” embrace different “truths”, why they believe what they believe. Reasons good enough for them to believe, but not good enough for me. (Already Thursday, 01:26)

______________________

Morning: Ready for chaos?

I can cease to be “Brand Smit” and just call myself “I” which, relative to me, would be more accurate than you calling yourself the same.

Afternoon: To understand … when it matters

When faced with extreme danger, it sometimes happens that a person suddenly develops an alternative, and under the circumstances more appropriate understanding of life.

Evening: Loose ones from Crooked Village, Number Nine

0. I am in a classroom, and I witness in front of me seven separate consciousnesses, functioning by means of sets of givens: male/female, age, physical appearance, racial background, etcetera.

1. Gravel doesn’t get used enough for aesthetic value.

2. Not only did I think a lot about identity, I also thought a lot about why I think about identity.

3. It almost feels like I should have a talk with myself where I have to make something very clear: “It’s time to take a long and hard look at your life, and ask yourself how long you can go on like this …”

______________________

FRIDAY, 1 OCTOBER 2004

Dental floss and other measures for survival

Last night I bought toothpicks, new razor blades, dental floss and some cotton buds. This morning I had breakfast, and then later at the morning market bought carrots, apples, something for lunch, and two 500 millilitre cups of green tea. Then I went to fetch fresh water, filled my two bottles when I got home, and put them in the fridge.

What does all of this mean? What value does it have on the Greater Landscape of My Life? All these things – the dental floss, the carrots, the water, and all the other things – are measures that are conducive to survival. All of this suggests that I have again so far today, on this Friday, October 1st 2004, not yet decided to “let things go”.

SUNDAY, 10 OCTOBER 2004

The voices that fear

The primary objective of the organism that is the human being is to return to a state of complete relaxation. At some point in a person’s life, he begins to associate this condition with death – either on a conscious or unconscious level.

The problem is that people also fear disappearing into nothingness. Why? Probably because we associate nothingness with futility and worthlessness. The thought of nothingness may even spring from uncertainty about the purpose and the value of one’s life.

So, since I am sitting here thinking about these things, I ask myself: Do I fear disappearing into the nothingness?

I am tempted to say no and let the matter rest. But somewhere in my head a thought kicks in. “Are you crazy?!” I hear a voice yell. “Of course we fear the nothingness!”

______________________

SATURDAY, 9 OCTOBER 2004

“I am bored, so I need to escape from my boring life by injecting myself with a chemical concoction, or by sniffing or smoking some or other substance. This will induce an alternative consciousness which will make me forget my boring life.

This is not a healthy pursuit. It is also a very expensive and unsustainable way to deal with my boredom. But instead of dealing with it in a healthier, more sustainable and less expensive way, I choose the way that, if I don’t take severe precautions, will make me a slave to the measures I employ to make my boring life bearable.

Fortunately I have learned that using drugs is seen in popular culture as exciting, and people engaging in this kind of activity as fun people to hang around with.

I have also learned that people who frown upon this idiotic, unsustainable, ludicrously expensive way of dealing with one’s own lack of imagination and subsequent boredom are, in actual fact, boring.

I am so relieved that my so-called friends – all fun people, of course! – taught me all these useful pieces of nonsense. I really wouldn’t know how to justify being a casual drug user in any other way – and it is casual, because calling it habitual would just be inaccurate. I mean, I’m not that stupid!”

______________________

FRIDAY, 8 OCTOBER 2004

A hungry man sits down at a table laden with the most delicious foods. There is a bit of everything: pizza, pasta, bread and cheese, salads, cold cuts, chicken pie, barbecued meat, desserts, pie, cake, junk food, healthy food …

The hungry man digs in, and he eats without taking a break for more than an hour. There is no way that he can consume all the food, so by the time he sits back, more than three-quarters of the table is still covered with plates, pots and pans full of food.

As the previously hungry man gets ready to leave the table, in walks another hungry man, which, for the sake of the point I want to make, is not allowed to sit down at the table. “How can you walk away from a table with so much good food?” asks the hungry man. “There’s so much food that you haven’t even touched!”

“I understand your distress,” says the man as he gently caresses his stomach. “But,” he sighs, “I’m full. My needs, which previously were exactly the same as yours, are now satisfied.”

Now, you can criticise the happy man, perhaps pointing out that he satisfied his appetite by just gobbling down the pizza and the junk food. But the man will still shrug and reply, “What can I say? I have had enough. I am satisfied.”

Will he stay satisfied? Most likely not, but that’s another story.

Point is this: if a need is no longer a need, it does not really matter what any prophet, poet, scholar or professional academic has to say about it, because the need … will simply no longer be a need.

______________________