NOTE TO SELF, explore the hell out of this when you get home: 

http://digifindingaids.cjh.org/?pID=121483

"There must be an essence if we have a concept."

This idea has plagued our thinking for at least a couple thousand years, and I am finally internalizing the implications produced when it is reasoned to be wrong.

To rely on technology to make moral questions obsolete is perverse. It does nothing to address the underlying moral issue. It creates highly advanced walls to isolate people from one another, but if anything happened to bring those walls down the whole mess of humans would tear each others to pieces. 

Because violence is the primary mode for dictating authority, there will never again, if ever there was one, be a time of peace for our species.  

I abhor senseless violence and I hate those who try to physically dominate others. You may possess great physical strength, but you are a coward.

i dreamt i started to read a comic book, and somehow i was transported into the world i was reading.

1st part.
in an old house that was inherited, a man finds a door that leads into a dark world. later to investigate, he brings a flashlight and a his wife. everythng is normal size, and he looks around to find a kitchen and kitchen utensils in a drawer. in the end, his doorway led him into a doll house in another world that was much bigger than his. together they climb up strange and wonderous ramparts that turn out to lead them up to someone's bed. 

"get that light off of me!"

"Oh wow! Oh jeez! Are you..... alive? Please excuse us, we wanted only to pass! May we continue forward?"

"Your voice is so small.... hmm... why are you whispering? Why are you..wait. Could you be.. and have returned? I think I'd like a snack about now."

The couple flee in utter terror back to the door and leave to their own world. The door is being pounded upon by the other side. hard and violently.

2nd part.
it is revealed that the couple run an outside grocery mart together. she expresses that she wants to open the door and see talk. if it spoke the same language, maybe there can be productive communication. the man, terrified, exclaims no. every day the pounding on the door starts up for awhile and dies off eventually.

once while the man is out, the woman opens the door and talks to the giant man. the giant man seduces her with his words. it is revealed somehow that she let the man's giant tongue eat her out. she ends up telling her husband, and he becomes furious for all sorts of reasons. he ended up saying something like "and if you are allowed to take this lover, don't expect i wont be able to do the same elsewhere!" he was jealous and maddened and thought he could make her regret with jealousy. instead she held on to the word 'lover' with delight. "yes, i guess he was a kind of lover." he storms offf and away.

she ends up going back to the giant man, and leaves the door open. somehow the giant man comes into their world, and at normal size. as if he knows the secrets of the portal. the wife sacrifices her newborn to the giant for the ability to enter their world as giant size.

3rd part.
while she isn't the same size, she is close. a little smaller. still submissive. 

the man comes home to find many of his wife's things being carried away by strangers into the doorway. he too, is forced to go. eventually everything is taken away. he is forced into the other world, still small. he is in a room with the giant, and many other giants that seem to be his friends. his wife is also there. she is sad at having left him, but is happy in this new, strange world with a mentor. 

this whole time, the giants world is still mainly dark. occasional light sources, but dim.

there is a sort of small get together being held, and the giants are inspecting the treasure from the other world. when the power source the smaller people used is inspected, it lights up the whole room. everyone is laughing and excited. except the husband.
during the party, the door is left open. occasion cats and animals wander in, and everyone is again excited. a group of small people wander in, all women. 

the giant man, sitting next to the wife, see's the husband motionless the whole evening. he commands him in various ways, and eventually tells him to drink some beer. the little man doesn't understand. the bottle itself could crush and kill him alone. the giant poors some on the ground into a puddle, and laughs. "here you go." everyone else laughs, and the wife smiles but doesn't laugh.

instead of going to the drink, he walks over to the mostly destroyed doll house's kitchen (by this time, the doll house has been torn apart, only partly together). he notices on the counter the comic which the dream is from, and fingers through the drawers... amused, the party of giants watches him. he finds a fork in the drawer, and immediiately jams it into his neck, dying.

the wife cries out in anguish.

zoom out and i realize i was reading a comic book in my dream and i awake.

end.

interpretations? plenty to see if i wanted to apply it to the world. his life was stolen and he was scared. life wasn't his anymore.

i think i ripped my trigeminal nerve (fifth cranial nerve)
and.... i don'tknow yet. dentist or doctor?
i think until i decide I'll drink vodka to kill the pain in my jaw.

Dear Summer Doreen:

You are a very pretty woman. Your natural physical beauty is almost unsurpassed in my experienced gathered during my short time on this planet. I have to admit, you are one goddamn pretty human. For a piece of flesh, your natural exterior was endowed in a way that makes me wonder at your ethnicity. Are all people of your decent so freakishly beautiful? However, it seems we differ on some fundemental points. None of which are insurmountable, expecially since my own personal viewpoint is incredibly adaptable. I tend to mold myself to my surroundings. But I have years of philosophical banter molded to support that kind of life. Awww... anything can be justiified with the right background.  Maybe because my anti-sociability budded early, but you appear to me a unique specimen. I know i know. there are about 7 billion people on this planet and in all reality you are a copy of a copy originally made thousands of years ago, if not longer. However, your very existence pleases me. I hope that we remain friends for a very long time. Atleast the kind of friends that bump and comment, if not the kind that smile often and giggke. I admire your nature interest in certain aspects of the world.  I wonder though if you your husband helps out becuase he is naturaLly interested in the world in a way that produces opinions on certain issues, regardless of whether or not they are completely arbitrary. INTEREST creates indespensible values. values once unknown because critical. 






I don't want any of the things that people wno talk about pretty ladies want. I don't want yhour perfectt flesh.  I used to thning i did, but i was so wrong. I want your mind. I want to know what yhio think. I know abstractly that your values are just among many, but YOURS interest me. it is all arbitrary, so why not go after what one likes. this [post is in a sense a tribute, a sacrifice, a offering of honesty to your own. i don't know how to be compeltely hhonesy. i feel i hagve secvrets, but it is justr my own opinion. maybe i am ashamed or afdraid trhat my own opinionjs are too inhyman, but oif course that is nonsese. i feel that most people wouldn't relatre to my values, oir my judegments. but the shallow part of myh became attracted to you enouhgj for me to get a judgement of yhoiur philosophical nature, and i approved.pf course all ji,ans have a call;ous part of themselfes wjhich seem to hold themslves oon an uncivlaledf platmform, but thhis cant be hewlped at the moment. i ghuess i'll siffere tjhrough lidw blindlt until i duie i rhR respect. \\\\\\






BTQtam, THANK YOU Dfor rwesding. i just trhouhjt i would give you a shout out, ios all.







-rt

note to self: for highly rated historical fiction:  James Clavell, James Michener, Conn Iggulden or Jean Auel

i know i probably wont die for another decade or four, but man every so often i still long for oblivion. its only my curiosity that keeps me too busy to think about it. when i was in highschool, all i really thought about was death, and the absurdity of existing. how pointless it all was. i began to understood in a theoretical way that to make myself happy was basically to distract myself with an interest in something. i eventually accepted it. its okay to choose a path, because all destinations are objectively meaningless. but to give a path meaning, there needs to be a judge of worth. a value holder. a perspective. life provides that value holder. so life is the only thing that has the characteristic of 'value'. so to say that life is meaningless is actually a contradiction in terms. by speaking of life, we speak of value making. not all life perhaps, but all perspectives take on the concept of life. we say a computer is "alive" once it becomes self-aware. so i decided to dive in and find some values. i kind of let a couple slip over me and i embraced them. they felt comfortable enough, so i took that path. i decided on being a man over a philosopher. the 


i get lost in space sometime.s. i look out, and i imagine my blackstar shiningg down. where did you go? i have looked for so long, but i cannot wait anymore. i fear i have lost your light forever. sometimes i wonder if i imagined the whole thing. lately i've wanted to find my way into space just to look for you. i hope i can find you before my lungs explode. </3

"Do I have an original thought in my head? My bald head. Maybe if I were happier my hair wouldn't be falling out. Life is short. I need to make the most of it. Today is the first day of the rest of my life. I'm a walking cliché. I really need to go to the doctor and have my leg checked. There's something wrong. A bump. The dentist called again. I'm way overdue. If I stop putting things off I would be happier. All I do is sit on my fat ass. If my ass wasn't fat I would be happier. I wouldn't have to wear these shirts with the tails out all the time. Like that's fooling anyone. Fat ass. I should start jogging again. Five miles a day. Really do it this time. Maybe rock climbing. I need to turn my life around. What do I need to do? I need to fall in love. I need to have a girlfriend. I need to read more. Improve myself. What if I learned Russian or something, or took up an instrument. I could speak Chinese. I'd be the screenwriter who speaks Chinese and plays the oboe. That would be cool. I should get my hair cut short. Stop trying to fool myself and everyone else into thinking I have a full head of hair. How pathetic is that. Just be real. Confident. Isn't that what women are attracted to? Men don't have to be attractive. But that's not true. Especially these days. Almost as much pressure on men as there is on women these days. Why should I be made to feel I have to apologize for my existence? Maybe it's my brain chemistry. Maybe that's what's wrong with me. Bad chemistry. All my problems and anxiety can be reduced to a chemical imbalance or some kind of misfiring synapses. I need to get help for that. But I'll still be ugly though. Nothing's going to change that." - adaptation