Monday, May 16, 2011

'Confabulation' - To Fabricate Imaginary Experiences as Compensation for Loss of Memory. My Last Journal Entry. Happy 28th!

Taken from my last journal entry, Tuesday May 16th, 2011

I think the reason I avoid this journal is in part from this girl who explained to me that it should be faced right side up (which it now is) so that the tassel falls from top to bottom, I hadn’t ever thought that a point worth considering. Today has been a great day, an important day I would say.

A great many things have taken place, some of which made it into my journal used as space filler for this one, because I can’t seem to write in you! Lets say from now on you just get the filtered bullshit and maybe you can give me some synthesis once in a while, for I am tired of giving. Funny things happened its true, things that caused reflection, events that brought back my times buying underwear from African street merchants in Napoli, times which have taken a seat to my consciousness. All well kept in another text, a book you will only know now through what I let slip. You my friend are the last survivor with me chuckling after a late party before we part ways.

Today was important because I put my two tasks to work. My recent interest in narrative I am sure plays little if any part, maybe as a paratext through outside materials you will never know anything about, because I won’t mention their name. As I was saying, today was an important day. I finally got beyond the insufferable reports from David Copperfield’s wedding but I still can’t get beyond his current indiscretions, benevolence, and inability to disentangle himself from his social sediments. Basically I can’t stand his knickknack of a wife. But hey, at the moment he is only 21, and that’s when it all begins in my book… By the way, I am in deep trouble. I have been swapping between a fully charged Cosco bag of trail mix and a near potato sack of dark Chocolate A├žai for the past page now and if the past is supposed to reflect the future, I will take my breakfast with a burning regret. Even without the aid of beef jerky. Thanks mom. Basically today seemed to top other days. I found those I sought, and spoke about space I found to give form to time, cause ‘it’ happened. So it goes.

The first element we agreed on was that ‘it’ could not be communicated, at least through our current system of forms or language that already ‘means’ something. All presuppositions and therefore all orders are banished. Us as a group, in a circle, shared a special position together of space and time and enjoyed each other’s company. Attention being paid to discourse, to the ‘words’ allowed, as language is a form of public transportation at a tax of its paved roads and maps, and we wanted the forms of our conveyance to be free of direction and result. All we agreed on was that one had ones body and its movement, that’s all that we could be sure of back then. We meditated over how to give what we had form, to define it, to make it last, to express outside ourselves what we knew already within.
Today has been a good day. I can’t stand post-modern thought; it seeks fragmentation and clamors for identity, full of perspectives without any plan for action. It’s like a child with a ball and a cup tied to a string, its only entertainment; a toy not to be marveled at but remembered as an effective gizmo that taught coordination while we were still growing up. Now it’s Nintendo. Now I am digressing in thought. We agreed that Plato began and Hegel completed Western Metaphysics, basically the world of thought we were thrown into and forced to make doo with. We are currently very interested in Schopenhauer and Kierkegaard, we made a large pot of ginger tea and decided that today was a good day

If I were a new historicist I would explain all my current subjective developments and socio/ cultural constructs that have shaped how I view and interpret whatever it is I am speaking of. But that is for my past 7 journals to support, you on the other hand will attest for nothing before now written. We were watching Scanner Darkly projected outside an apartment wall. This was after the brief encounter with a section of American students, t’was their last farewell, adieu, au revoir, adios, bon voyage, aufwedersehen before their sober return. Their semester had just ended. They were drunk and bedazzled, full of sound and sentimentality, we crashed their party, and we smoked American Spirits.

‘Is it rational to be immoral?’ that’s a question posed by my professor that stemmed from a simple question of ‘what is good,’ from which we will submit an outline next week. In my opinion, depending on a reason justified by a given community for some desired result, it is not only true, but in the same context its opposite can be true as well: that it can be immoral to be rational. I will then allude to the American treatment of the Japanese during WWII and get a feather in my cap for not mentioning the Holocaust. OHHH discourse, ohh language, oh you blasted bottle of invertible time! Today was a good day.


1 comment:

Cetonietta said...

Please write more posts!