If I had a plan, it might include the
following things.
I'd use my next 2 days off to learn how to build a website that forms the basis of all the things I'm trying to do at once. The purpose of this website would be to organize and give me a landing page to promote what I seek or create in the real world. I'd find a better website than Udemy, which, the first course I paid for, managed to show itself not to be up to date and buggy. I'd attempt to utilize a domain name and hosting I keep alive, at an arguably completely unnecessary expense so far, and put out a “bad” beginner conception of what I'm after. I'd do all of this from my screen in the living room where undoubtedly the time I wish to use to focus and learn will be interrupted by slamming kitchen drawers, the same piano song practiced for hours, and the shouting of “ball, ball, ball, ball, ball, ball, ball, ball” for several more hours.
On this site I would list things I have for sale, things I need to get accomplished in order to make my house livable, a daily goal list, and integrate my hobbies. I've thought for a while about having something more personal and reflective of the integrated nature of the mind as something to market for people, with a lesson plan on how to alter it as they change and grow. Myspace was good about letting you change the code and integrate things to make it personal. I want you to feel like you can actually connect or help me without having to rely on you catching the right status at the right time of day. Though you’d as well ignore it as earnestly given you’re your own graves to dig.
That would be the first half of the plan. The next parts involve having money I don't.
My problem is a feeling of general helplessness. I don't care if that's overstated. It's still “the holidays,” which means even while I'm working, the numbers coming in are less than reassuring. Say I were bored and wanted to do more “little things” like sapling removal, the weather has made that impossible. I'm starting to again get headaches like I had when I was growing up. They're reminiscent of the “constant stress” that you take for granted is normal until you're old enough to read about and better define emotional abuse. I'm starting to get the impression that “existing” is becoming a problem again, though I know it's partly that I have few outlets for real discussion, and partly because the harsh annoying reality of my situation is bleeding into others' in too real a way.
I think I've expressed this to some extent in the past, but the issue is that I'm not confused about what I want and need. I know exactly how I'd spend my next $10,000 were it available to me. I know that, if I had nothing else, I was willing to take the floor and my tablet, and now coming home hoping for the couch and my TV are registering as an overstep. I feel like the dad who comes home from work, and his wife doesn't bother to cook dinner. Except here, the wife doesn't just not want to cook, but hogs the TV, runs the laundry in the middle of the night, and let's the dog shit in my boots. It's like the more you're ignored for your effort or that even the smallest amount of your needs aren't being met, it's not just getting more frustrated or angry, you just don't want to exist. I don't know what to do or say that won't end up in a fight. I don't even know how to experiment with making the situation better.
I knew all along how terrible “normal” working conditions and expectations were. All of the time I spent alone reading about the world was it's own kind of depressing for sure, but at least there, I could just look away. Things got better when I stopped shaping my mind with the horribleness of the world. Here, it's the more active physical participation in your own demise. I'm not building anything of value for myself by sitting in the ClusterTruck parking lot. I'm scraping together cash at the expense of literally my whole day if I rush to get chores or errands done in the morning and plan on less sleep. “Multi-tasking” in marathoning TV even feels cheap. If I didn't have the car beeping at me the entire time, I used to just find myself driving in silence, catching my reflection in my tablet looking disheveled and blank.
I paused the 3rd installment of “Atlas Shrugged” the movie series to start writing this. To be sure it, like the other 2 movies, are pretty terrible. No matter your shorthand opinion of Rand, I still can't shake the impression her books left on me and think I empathize with the general sentiment expressed in her philosophy and lines from her characters. You need an individual mind behind things. You need people who are capable and willing to excel. You need to respect the degree in which the contributions literally power the world. Her characters were actual creatives and geniuses. They actually built things and understood their crafts. They weren't bestowed cash and donned smug smiles claiming to be the best after political worming and exploitation. Lesser-evil Paul Ryans exist in her world, while the heroes provided, and took pride in what they made.
I'm my mind first. My “labor” is as replaceable as anyone else with a car and the ability to refrain from screaming “fuck you” at annoying customers. If I can't get my mind right, I have nothing. If I can't be “happy” or “understood” in what I'm doing, how it feels, or how long it has to take, it's game over. I consider it a problem that I can't persuade myself to fit in more “good” behaviors to try and combat the “bad” of constant exploitation. It really would only cause more stress to try and be “fit” in the middle of the night after work. I might punch a trumpet through a window if I felt like I was making progress only to be interrupted by a stupid conversation from someone knocking at it. Is this me being “negative,” or another attempt to find peace and clarity? Go on, insist.
If I were less ambitious and found myself unable to part with more money for what is certainly information just as poorly related for free as it is “structured” in some online class, I'd finish the last half of this 3rd volume of The Runaways comics, and maybe power through more Civil War. I'd compile and condense the information I've saved on reddit for years into action-plans going forward. You know, there are dozens, DOZENS, of solo-entrepreneurs with great niche ideas that just followed these 3, 5, or 12 steps to go from 0 to 100K within a year with barely the money or know-how before they started. Maybe I can discover how to be as smart as them. I might pop over to the land and see if the tarp I laid out has blown over or if I can find what happened to my Bioshock and Borderlands games. If there's not a noble reason like those, it'd just be a waste of gas.
If I discovered I actually hate myself more than I'm letting on, I'd just marathon shows with subtitles and recent movie releases. Then at some point I'd hit Wal-Mart to pick up the handful of ingredients to make 3 types of meals I'd prepare for the next week or two. I'd consider heavily on drinking about a 1/5th alone and seeing if that motivates me to wander the bars in search of more poor decisions. None of this could begin until I had fully realized the first goal of pretending to be asleep well into the afternoon.
Time is moving too slow. I'll be lucky to feel barely comfortable by 30 at this rate. I'd have to find a way to shake off the psychological and physical damage of too much work. I'd be praying the entire time that I only have to pay for the bills that already exist or I can see coming. Every single day is going to be the same conversation about what “more” I could be doing and how my head is hurting or what I'd rather be doing. I was prepared for nothingness and monotony when the weather was good and I thought I was making progress on the house. Now I'm just digging myself out of tax holes, freezing and waiting, and begging for a mental “reason” my efforts were turned into thievery and destroyed supplies. I'm making stupid mistakes and oversights because I can't be bothered to add another layer of bullshit.
The only reason I'm even awake at 6 is because it's actual alone time! I used to like to stay up all night, it felt natural, before I realized how quickly that wasn't going to be compatible with working all day. Now I'm just risking throwing off my rhythm for the sake of some quite time. The noise is 3 paragraphs of me bitching earlier. Hours later I can bother to start thinking again. My whole life feels way too noisy right now.
I'm going to finish this movie and then go to bed. Spoiler alert, the heroes will return, and the motor of the world will start back up. Her characters got to run to a secret escape in the mountains. They got to live in service to their, in the movie, very poorly worded and fundamentally naive ideals. I've been reading along with it about how Rand alienated so many people who didn't understand or jive with her philosophy. I wonder if “my philosophy” is doing the same thing to me, except, I don't have one that isn't a kind of value for critical thought and truth that sees me catching shitty consequences or silence. You tell me, should I not be talking to you? Should I accept or better appreciate the level I currently inhabit? I'm only kidding, I know I have no one to talk to. I know you think all sorts of deep and private things that I'm not allowed to speak to. I know my whiny contempt is the heart of all my problems and none of the “objective reality” raining fire.
Let's see what tomorrow takes.
I'd use my next 2 days off to learn how to build a website that forms the basis of all the things I'm trying to do at once. The purpose of this website would be to organize and give me a landing page to promote what I seek or create in the real world. I'd find a better website than Udemy, which, the first course I paid for, managed to show itself not to be up to date and buggy. I'd attempt to utilize a domain name and hosting I keep alive, at an arguably completely unnecessary expense so far, and put out a “bad” beginner conception of what I'm after. I'd do all of this from my screen in the living room where undoubtedly the time I wish to use to focus and learn will be interrupted by slamming kitchen drawers, the same piano song practiced for hours, and the shouting of “ball, ball, ball, ball, ball, ball, ball, ball” for several more hours.
On this site I would list things I have for sale, things I need to get accomplished in order to make my house livable, a daily goal list, and integrate my hobbies. I've thought for a while about having something more personal and reflective of the integrated nature of the mind as something to market for people, with a lesson plan on how to alter it as they change and grow. Myspace was good about letting you change the code and integrate things to make it personal. I want you to feel like you can actually connect or help me without having to rely on you catching the right status at the right time of day. Though you’d as well ignore it as earnestly given you’re your own graves to dig.
That would be the first half of the plan. The next parts involve having money I don't.
My problem is a feeling of general helplessness. I don't care if that's overstated. It's still “the holidays,” which means even while I'm working, the numbers coming in are less than reassuring. Say I were bored and wanted to do more “little things” like sapling removal, the weather has made that impossible. I'm starting to again get headaches like I had when I was growing up. They're reminiscent of the “constant stress” that you take for granted is normal until you're old enough to read about and better define emotional abuse. I'm starting to get the impression that “existing” is becoming a problem again, though I know it's partly that I have few outlets for real discussion, and partly because the harsh annoying reality of my situation is bleeding into others' in too real a way.
I think I've expressed this to some extent in the past, but the issue is that I'm not confused about what I want and need. I know exactly how I'd spend my next $10,000 were it available to me. I know that, if I had nothing else, I was willing to take the floor and my tablet, and now coming home hoping for the couch and my TV are registering as an overstep. I feel like the dad who comes home from work, and his wife doesn't bother to cook dinner. Except here, the wife doesn't just not want to cook, but hogs the TV, runs the laundry in the middle of the night, and let's the dog shit in my boots. It's like the more you're ignored for your effort or that even the smallest amount of your needs aren't being met, it's not just getting more frustrated or angry, you just don't want to exist. I don't know what to do or say that won't end up in a fight. I don't even know how to experiment with making the situation better.
I knew all along how terrible “normal” working conditions and expectations were. All of the time I spent alone reading about the world was it's own kind of depressing for sure, but at least there, I could just look away. Things got better when I stopped shaping my mind with the horribleness of the world. Here, it's the more active physical participation in your own demise. I'm not building anything of value for myself by sitting in the ClusterTruck parking lot. I'm scraping together cash at the expense of literally my whole day if I rush to get chores or errands done in the morning and plan on less sleep. “Multi-tasking” in marathoning TV even feels cheap. If I didn't have the car beeping at me the entire time, I used to just find myself driving in silence, catching my reflection in my tablet looking disheveled and blank.
I paused the 3rd installment of “Atlas Shrugged” the movie series to start writing this. To be sure it, like the other 2 movies, are pretty terrible. No matter your shorthand opinion of Rand, I still can't shake the impression her books left on me and think I empathize with the general sentiment expressed in her philosophy and lines from her characters. You need an individual mind behind things. You need people who are capable and willing to excel. You need to respect the degree in which the contributions literally power the world. Her characters were actual creatives and geniuses. They actually built things and understood their crafts. They weren't bestowed cash and donned smug smiles claiming to be the best after political worming and exploitation. Lesser-evil Paul Ryans exist in her world, while the heroes provided, and took pride in what they made.
I'm my mind first. My “labor” is as replaceable as anyone else with a car and the ability to refrain from screaming “fuck you” at annoying customers. If I can't get my mind right, I have nothing. If I can't be “happy” or “understood” in what I'm doing, how it feels, or how long it has to take, it's game over. I consider it a problem that I can't persuade myself to fit in more “good” behaviors to try and combat the “bad” of constant exploitation. It really would only cause more stress to try and be “fit” in the middle of the night after work. I might punch a trumpet through a window if I felt like I was making progress only to be interrupted by a stupid conversation from someone knocking at it. Is this me being “negative,” or another attempt to find peace and clarity? Go on, insist.
If I were less ambitious and found myself unable to part with more money for what is certainly information just as poorly related for free as it is “structured” in some online class, I'd finish the last half of this 3rd volume of The Runaways comics, and maybe power through more Civil War. I'd compile and condense the information I've saved on reddit for years into action-plans going forward. You know, there are dozens, DOZENS, of solo-entrepreneurs with great niche ideas that just followed these 3, 5, or 12 steps to go from 0 to 100K within a year with barely the money or know-how before they started. Maybe I can discover how to be as smart as them. I might pop over to the land and see if the tarp I laid out has blown over or if I can find what happened to my Bioshock and Borderlands games. If there's not a noble reason like those, it'd just be a waste of gas.
If I discovered I actually hate myself more than I'm letting on, I'd just marathon shows with subtitles and recent movie releases. Then at some point I'd hit Wal-Mart to pick up the handful of ingredients to make 3 types of meals I'd prepare for the next week or two. I'd consider heavily on drinking about a 1/5th alone and seeing if that motivates me to wander the bars in search of more poor decisions. None of this could begin until I had fully realized the first goal of pretending to be asleep well into the afternoon.
Time is moving too slow. I'll be lucky to feel barely comfortable by 30 at this rate. I'd have to find a way to shake off the psychological and physical damage of too much work. I'd be praying the entire time that I only have to pay for the bills that already exist or I can see coming. Every single day is going to be the same conversation about what “more” I could be doing and how my head is hurting or what I'd rather be doing. I was prepared for nothingness and monotony when the weather was good and I thought I was making progress on the house. Now I'm just digging myself out of tax holes, freezing and waiting, and begging for a mental “reason” my efforts were turned into thievery and destroyed supplies. I'm making stupid mistakes and oversights because I can't be bothered to add another layer of bullshit.
The only reason I'm even awake at 6 is because it's actual alone time! I used to like to stay up all night, it felt natural, before I realized how quickly that wasn't going to be compatible with working all day. Now I'm just risking throwing off my rhythm for the sake of some quite time. The noise is 3 paragraphs of me bitching earlier. Hours later I can bother to start thinking again. My whole life feels way too noisy right now.
I'm going to finish this movie and then go to bed. Spoiler alert, the heroes will return, and the motor of the world will start back up. Her characters got to run to a secret escape in the mountains. They got to live in service to their, in the movie, very poorly worded and fundamentally naive ideals. I've been reading along with it about how Rand alienated so many people who didn't understand or jive with her philosophy. I wonder if “my philosophy” is doing the same thing to me, except, I don't have one that isn't a kind of value for critical thought and truth that sees me catching shitty consequences or silence. You tell me, should I not be talking to you? Should I accept or better appreciate the level I currently inhabit? I'm only kidding, I know I have no one to talk to. I know you think all sorts of deep and private things that I'm not allowed to speak to. I know my whiny contempt is the heart of all my problems and none of the “objective reality” raining fire.
Let's see what tomorrow takes.
