16th
Typing email addresses into the login page for a blog whose name I don’t even remember. But this is me, now, here, in Los Angeles, in 2010. Not then, there, in college in Chicago five years ago. Sense of self temporarily rendered weirdly contiguous.
I’m not constantly measuring my surroundings to myself now; I’m elsewhere. Either I live my life so far into the future I’m planning someone else’s party, or I’m so passionately in a moment that any real ego drowns under the wave of explicit presence.
I’m pretty sure this boils down to a complex evolved gene propagation strategy I can’t consciously understand (constant expression of doubt, obsession with cognitive bias, obsessed with the possibility that your…)
Drinking. Even stupid shit is too much for me. Lost cause. Done. Over. If I don’t understand already, no one can show me.
