oh_me_ghost

Relationships between people, between groups and other groups, between groups and individuals, between people and things that are not people, between ideas that people have, and people not actually born yet, or people that existed in the past. Is it simple. Is it a matter of aligning oneself with a personal concept of nature/love, nature as experienced uniquely by the individual, rather than some meaningless nature concept in general. Aligning oneself with an experience of what is going on for real, and what, and why, and how. Acording to ones own life though. According to ones own life. And life is very different for different people, really different, and every ten years or so it becomes drastically different for everyone, so that life no longer seems to be what it was. Some people carry around memories like they were bank accounts, and they were saving up for their dieing day, the great dieing day pay out. Some people are motivated by the idea of having others remember them well. In 1,000 years, will anyone remember even the president. What if some of us were remembered 100,000 years. Seriously, why would that be good. I have no fucking clue why, but I guess its nice to have goals, and to want the future to be totally indebted to you. Huh? Why? To live for today, to live for the people that exist right now, or to live for the people that are in the future, or all three, or all three at different times. I bought some Ayn Rand books recently. One thing thats peculiar about Ayn is that she seriously hates animals and children. Anything that reminds her of animals or children fills her with a revulsion that borders on the pathological. Shes very smart, but she can barely go five pages without vomiting something spiteful about animals and children. Whats the deal. Tormented much in school? Did a dog shit in your shoe? Shes kind of interesting and has a clever bitch mentality which I appreciate. I like her how to write fiction book, even though her fiction itself does absolutely nothing for me. Her fiction is computer-generated and represents to me the death of poetry. But Im kind of looking for answers, and she seems to have some. I think she might help me stay within the lanes maybe. I might try to write some fiction, or some half-fiction/half-fucking around just to develop some momentum. Its so much easier to write fiction when youre a part of a fiction group, so maybe I should take a class for that salon-effect, not for the instruction which Im sure would suck. The deadlines would help, but Id probably be grumpy cause I wouldnt approve of the teacher, but grumpiness and disatisfaction can be very usefel for giving me inspiration. This time of year, the beginning, is really difficult for me. Its hard to recover from work and shake it off, and get buzy and be interested in things. All I do is lump. And eat. And look. And listen to mp3s. And write bizarre shit to try to jog my memory, as if to get myself unstuck, but the words are even stickier than the problems I was writing about. But in the mornings lately, I just write. I have to, its the only time of day when my mind is really awake. And I dont like it. And I dont like the wind. And I dont like people that stand on yellow staircases that lead nowhere, and that stare at the sun to blind themselves into knowing theyre heroic. Workdays in January and February should be 6 hours cause otherwise its brutalizing. And this fiction writing idea. Why do it. Im not used to thinking in terms of narrative and story. Even the term narrative and story seems kind of boring. I think if I could switch my focus from introspection and integration to character development, and transformations, and normal meets the fucked up truth it might help.