:: a.whisper.in.water ::

:: Sunday, November 10, 2002 ::

Psychological analysis: Either I exist very little for myself, or the reasons I choose to exist are simply unfulfilling. I don't know that this warrants some sort of distillation of personality and action, but I don't see that much overt that gets in the way of my simply doing what I want. I say that now, but why am I not in New York? That's a mistake, I sitll hold, still hold. Fuck.

It's not that I lack identity, just self-purpose. Give me a million dollars and make me promise to spend it on nothing but myself, I'd go insane. It's not that I could think of anything to do with the money, even though most of what I would otherwise do certainly revolves around others. To have a million dollars, and to spend it only on oneself? Such guilt...what sin in living mostly for others? If more people did it, the world would be a better place. Everyone you knew would be happier...I suppose the difference between me and other folks is that I've got nothing internal that could make me happier in and of myself.

In any case, it's fairly that I'm going to come with any substantive intrinsic purpose with any immediacy. I love music. I love love. I love snow. I love science. I love free thought. I love progressiveness. I love meaningful debate. I love human contact.

What do I do?


:: Aziz 5:41 AM [+] ::
...