3-7-25
Why not have a good day off where I do what I want? It’s in moments of pause, where the ticking clock is less heard, that I am appreciative of what I have and where I am. Is this not the same principle of “silence” I craved that caused me to move out? In a home with so many people, just like an apartment with many roommates, there’s always something. Why then fill my life with noise? In my use of “noise” here there is an implied meaninglessness to it. Drivel, dreck, what have you. Say my life is a TV channel, and I have a certain amount of time that is pre-scheduled programming.Why then, with the remaining hours, would I choose to run commercials?
For profit blah blah blah. But those commercials benefit another company more than they benefit me.
There’s a sense of joy I felt walking up to the library today. If I may rapid fire some thoughts:
Why not live everyday that is yours as if it is summer vacation?
How is it truly so different?
I know libraries are this sort of talisman, monolith, holy site, for me due to their importance and influence in my childhood.
Information is fun.
I am grateful that my childhood had such an air/ethos of exploration, adventure, and curiosity.
Consciousness/Being/Existence is so strange.
Did Descartes then go on to write about how insane it is that I am?
What a novelty that I am alive. I often cannot believe it. In the same regard I can often not believe that I was, the number of times my feet have stomped around Morales Park is unknowable to me.
Yet now in older age, I feel compelled to collect all of those stomping and turn them into a piece of fiction. -> Is that also not strange? What is that? that is not as cut and dry as the novelty of imagining a robot cowboy and wishing to draw it.
This (Narrowbridge) is markedly different. That is why it feels so monumental/momentous to me. I am forming a thesis of my life up to this point, yet more specifically, of my childhood.
In the same way as Calvin and Hobbes, Bone, and Saga feel like theses- I’ll give it to Invincible as well, but it does not have the same joy, wonder, and limitless possibility as these other titles. It feels more teenage, a response, and in parts, cynical.
Now reflecting on teenage…hood? Is there a term for it like childhood or adulthood?
I do not hold that teenagers are young adults. They are teenagers. Only age of exception here is nineteen, but I think at most this is a false adulthood followed then by young adulthood. Nevertheless, reflecting on teenagership; I am now starting to see the point my seventh grade math teacher, whose name escapes me (Ross? Devos? Betsy? I feel an inkling that it was somehow close to “Betsy Ross,” which would be amusing if not true at all), about using calculators. Though I think she was too focused on saying we wouldn’t always have one (the negative) over having a “use it or lose it” mentality (the positive). And unfortunately, I’ve lost some of it.
I do remember that she loved the word “behoove.”
I’m not sure if I’ve finished all of my points, but I have attempted to remember all of my teachers names (see back of book) and now would like to draw my daily page™.