National Library

Tonight I went to the public library on a whim and went straight to the comic book section. Grabbed seven books and sat down on a sofa to read until the closing announcements went off on the PA system. Cradled the books home in both arms. Came home feeling satisfied with my loot. Hardcover comic books are lovely but so expensive.

Lately I've been thinking about my childhood and wishing that I could go back.

Going to the library might be the last thing that makes me feel okay.

So

Perhaps the problem has always been loneliness, and the inability to accept or deal with it.

October

Mental breakdowns have a rhythm and structure, like a pop song or an animal's digestion.

In the eye of a storm that's been slow going... Tears welling in the corners of my eyes and staying there all day. Staying in bed for all hours of the day as though I'm in the third day of some trans-continental jetlag or world-class cold but no, it's just that thing that happens on the regular. Every few months now I find myself in this state. It stays for longer or shorter periods of time, claiming rule for however long it pleases. It beats me up very bad and I suffer a total loss of confidence to accomplish anything but the bare minimum - putting on my pajamas and reading books in bed.

I have to look desperately in my bookcase for anchors to hold my attention because sadly I have collected a lot of subpar books. In times like this there is really nothing else that can help except something... good. Good not in the sense that it has won awards or is written by a celebrated author nothing of that sort at all. I just need to hear the right voice edited with respect and care. Taste is subjective and god knows I happily purchase books with all kinds of stickers or recommendations on the cover but no, no, no, No, NO, I can't do another page by the end of Chapter 2. The characters annoy me and I completely distrust the author. I think about never going back to the bookstore again. These disappointments take their toll on me and put me out for days. Anyway, I can't afford to spend more money on books at this point in time.

Thankful that there are stars like Patti Smith and Jack Kerouac that I in better days had the good sense to stock up on. Time to give Jack his own little bookcase and I will look for a little cross to hang in its corner. Sweet Saint Jack. Patti is still alive, and I'm very glad for it. The thought of her writing in a cafe with a notebook and cup of coffee on the table is comforting at a time like this.

I respect writers and I envy their writer lives. But I only write when I am very sick or very sad.

October, 2016

The great sky nation
Where I dreamt I would spend
An entire life
On the road
Driving through
The wide open land
Staring into
The horizon and
Endlessness

For a week we were free from everybody else
But holding onto each other one night I realised 
You would not let go

Childish

Starting listening to his music a few years ago but nothing really stuck, but now I'm obsessed.

He's right about a lot of things. But a lot of it is vague. Aesthetics.

I appreciate it. It's a relief to have art in this world that speaks with honesty.

I started writing poems recently. 

Sunken Places

Writing about one thing just makes me crazy to write about a whole bunch of other things. The nights stretch long but hours run short. I'm in a mood. What qualifies as a real object or a real action? Social media is all about distraction, racing through the easy but unsatisfying dopamine hits. When something rings true I get these chills. It's not always pleasant or unpleasant but I live for these moments.

If we had more time, we'd be able to know everything and then perhaps we'd know real truth, all of it. But we don't have time, so we have to write and make things and hope that we left something for other people to move forward with, you know?

I really wonder who reads this nowadays. I keep thinking that I should polish things up more before taking my writing to an audience but looks like I won't be doing that anytime soon... and sod it. I'm just going to write the same way that I think. I hope you like it.

Thot Thot Thot

Human consciousness today is probably really different from thirty years ago, and that was also really different thirty years ago too. Not having to remember driving directions. Being able to communicate so much to people who aren't in the same room.

I don't think it's something we're aware of enough. There's a lot of pattern recognition involved in empirical perception. Most of the time we gravitate towards sameness and familiarity when we operate visually. It's a coping mechanism. It's comfortable.

Neuroscientists probably have a better grasp on what's happening.

===

I started taking oil painting classes this year and they're enjoyable so far. I would like to paint more and draw more. I can write all I want here but it's not real until it's a physical thing, I think. There really is a lot of crap in the data universe, and it's forgotten instantly. The internet ends up a lot like our brains... storing a whole lot of useful things that can't be found just as you need them, and totally meaningless after you're gone.

Writing is just a process for now. A way to develop ideas and build my own system of beliefs. A lot of it is already there, but I need to get it out so that I can read it back again. Slash and burn and regrowth and again and again.

===

Today Mummy and I took the lift after dinner. She said something about there being a bookstore on Level 4 and I said no, there isn't. She swore it was there, if not she'd cut off her head and give me to me. She pressed the Level 4 button and the lift moved upwards. I continued staring at the shop directory and I said nope, there isn't one here. The doors opened. She said really, I guess not then. I pressed the B1 button and we headed back downstairs. We ran some errands and walked towards the taxi stand. She said she needed to check something. She walked towards the information counter and asked the lady something. I already knew what. She continued walking on and I caught up with her. She said okay, I'm going to need my head back. 

Pooh Bear

Is there such a thing as truth then?

Yes, of course there is.

And can we know it?

Yes, we all know it. But not in the same way. There are so many different types of things in this world, and each specimen unique to itself. We're all connected to the truth, but a different aspect of it. That's why we know different things and say different things. That's why we disagree.

But are those different things all true? If they are derivative from the truth?

I think there's truth in every expression, but not necessarily as we intend. When we act or speak we make a dent on reality, on truth. We're part of it. The truth always comes out. When we tell stories the truth wiggles its way out. Even if it's a made up story. Lies express so much more than the truth does because they are stories which are inextricably linked to truth. Those relationships tell you more than the truth does.

Is the truth important?

Of course it's important. But it's not important to know all of it. We're all trying. In our own ways. We don't know what path to take. So it's important to go your own way. 

Mama Mia

Had a bad panic attack last night. It's been a regular thing for the last few years. I get depressed and anxious and then I have a meltdown and then hover delicately around these two states. Long story short we have abandoned our Airbnb and moved into a hotel down the street.

I know what my triggers are. Those risks are not worth taking. When things aren't working it takes a lot of energy and time away from my work. The cost is too great. Life is too short.

Only some people can be trusted to take care of me. I only feel safe when I'm inside my fort, with a fire-breathing dragon on patrol, and a moat full of bloodthirsty sharks.

Italy

It is my first visit to the country of Italy, half for work and half for some quality time with my architect half.

Bologna was exciting. I enjoyed the children's book fair very much. Having time to think helps me move forward. My mindset has developed positively over the few days of the fair.

Naples was interesting and charmed my socks off. It took a while to get used to it but I have fallen in love with the little streets that wind up and down. The buildings have a closeness that is shared by the people and cars as well. There is so much history in the city, and yet so much fresh life. I felt very privileged being able to visit and work amongst the designers including X.

And Capri! It is one of the loveliest places I have ever visited. Yesterday we hiked around for most of the day and got ourselves a little sunburnt. Every time I catch a view of the ocean I cannot bring myself to look away. The little streets and lemon trees are wonderful as well. But the best thing of all is rambling with X on a sunny day.