Thursday, April 2, 2020


Originally written on February 12, 2003 at 10:00 pm in a college owned and managed apartment room.

Sense of belonging.

The first crucial step in obtaining a sense of belonging is to accept yourself in that environment. You have to first picture yourself in that new scenario. You have to realize and accept that you are in this new environment. You simply can not observe and try to apply yourself to it. You will get left behind. The torrentous current of people and scenarios changes and moves so quickly that you have to hold your nose and just jump in. There is a choice. You can stand on the bank and watch the river go by as you try to observe the changes and the people in it. You can do this, become bewildered by the river and invariably by yourself; or you can jump in and be carried along with it. I has been my experience that there is much more comfort in watching the trees go by as you float along with the people than there is watching the people go by as I stand with the trees.

There is no excuse for an individual who completely denies themselves social interaction. Self-induced isolation is a treat. [The writer here noted they had a headache and a test the following morning so must quit early]


Originally written on January 28, 2003 in the evening. President George Bush's State of the Union Address was aired the same day.

The air feels thick with the presence of precedent setting decisions.

We have the choice of deciding how our close to immediate progeny will live. Not only how they will live but in what manner. Decisions like these will tell the world and future generations by which processes we choose to live.

Our decisions will not only affect our present security but will also, and perhaps more importantly, affect the intelligence and wisdom of tomorrow.


Originally thought of in a car in Central Texas on January 26, 2003 at 4:30 pm. It was written down at a later time the same day.

I do not live each day as an attempt to delay death;
I live each day as an attempt to live, each day.


Originally written on January 22, 2003 at 11:21 pm in a college owned and managed apartment room.

I forfeit the idea of self-government and just allow myself to be pulled.

It is a wonderful ride to be able to observe as a passenger, and yet the smells and sounds envelope me so fully I can't help claiming that I am part of this experience.


Originally written on December 31, 2002 at 11:00 pm above a wooden porch, a chair, a lap, and a blanket amidst 19 Fahrenheit degree weather.

unmistaken identity = inhuman

Reality is so clear and defined, no wonder man has such a hard tie with indeterminate forms.

Our peculiar thought processes are a result of the functionality of reality, or at least I think that is the order.


Originally written on December 29, 2002 at 11:00 am on a Boeing 717-200 on its way to Minnesota.

She leaves a wake of impenetrable serenity

She encapsulates all that would desire to know her.


Originally written on November 19, 2002 at 12:22 am in a college dorm room. Vivaldi is playing in the background.

Where are we going?
What is the destination of man?
Where are we in the timeline of human history?

I see the accomplishments of humankind as a rubber sheet. The advancements can be likened to protrusions upward through this rubber. The younger man is, the more the protrusion is likened to a fist. The older mankind is, the more the protrusion is like a needle. they can only get smaller.


Originally written on November 15, 2002 at 2:00 am outside a college cafeteria.

Why then, O brawling love, O loving hate,
O anything of nothing first ‘create!’
O heavy lightness, serious vanity,
Misshapen chaos of ‘well-seeming’ forms,

Aye me, sad hours seem long.

To refrain from living.
To abstain from conceiving the inner-beauty of every precious moment.
This is my only fear.
For this can not easily be stopped by one's self, once started.

I forebode a seemingly non-nonchalant change in the world.
I foresee the future to be no different from the present,
and I cherish it.

You are waiting for something to happen.
You are waiting for a change.
So you can only then wait for another one once you one?

Folly is the name of the man who waits on his car seat for the pleasure of a change of scenery.

For him the pleasure can only come from the seat,
For it is because of the seat that the desire has been made.

Digitizing my Musings

What follows in the posts to come are copies of handwritten journal entries starting from 2002. The purpose of placing them here are for the purposes of making it easier to share, organize, and make these ideas more understandable.

My process of writing these entries is to do so as if I am speaking to myself. I am noting this here since I may have to alter the writings from how they appear in their original form. I have occasionally skipped fully elucidating or proving certain concepts as I knew my audience would not need these. A significant portion of these were also not written when sober.

So for anyone who may find these I ask that you be patient. These writings were written with an unbridled intent. As such, some of them will be self-contradictory. Others will be obviously incorrect.