What I mean by "becoming a person" is kinda complicated. You know how you look at people, and they're people, while you're not? How they do things, and know things, and Are Ways, while you are, as you well know, empty and small - like a theatre screen next to a real forest. Obviously this isn't real - it's not 2009, I'm not somehow uniquely empty or incomplete, I'm just dissociating. It is, however, the prevailing way I think about the world. When am I going to be a person? What do I need to do? Will getting a job, decorating an apartment, setting my own routine, living my own life - will any of this make me real? In part this isn't as absurd as it sounds - doing these things will probably bring me a lot closer to being in my own head than I've been in a long time. It is, though, still a little absurd. I'm as complete now as I'll ever be. I'm a full person - like you are. I don't need to learn to crochet or paraglide or wrestle, I just need to try not to get so hollowed out I can't be present for my own life.
Still, I'm gonna wake up from time to time and start a Notion account, or try calendaring again, or see if this whole Pomodoro thing works, or Try Mindfulness. I'm gonna see if starting to live this new way will finally make it all feel better. It won't - it can't. I've got an equilibrium, and that equilibrium simply isn't the kind of wanker who can track macronutrients without carving MyFitnessPal alert messages into the closest wall/tree/person. So I'm gonna have to keep living like this."Pretending, and preposterous, and dumb". It's all very fin de siecle of me, really, to doubt if there's any authentic thing in the world. Unlike those nerds I know authenticity isn't real, and everything is affect, and that that's good and sick and the point. Still, I have to try to get my camera inside my own head somehow, and maybe feel sometime like I'm real enough. And I would like to have some hobbies, really.
This, then, is a mission statement - this website will serve as a pre-packaged archive for my ow reference - as a reminder that I do, in fact, exist.