day 1000.
without really realizing it, i’m already nearing my third year into this experiment of mine. with this rented room, free electricity and free internet from the indian restaurant across the road. with the jobs that i have now, i make enough for rent, food and other knick knacks.
but still there’s that itch there to leave it all. again just to leave and go. like what i did when this exercise in isolation started.
i think it comes with the amount of free time that i have, i just can’t stop that most human of traits, self-reflection.
i am sick with what i am now. i am just a parasite. taking advantage of this scabrous excuse of a civilization. i am now, i realize, just as willing a participant as any other when i work for some faceless logo, stacking items on shelves at the 24-hour convenience store, cleaning toilets at the shopping mall, collecting cans and old newspaper for the odd cash. making things neat for people to exploit others, to exploit themselves. I am being exploited by indirect ways.
that is the trap of civilization, i realize. first humans were unthinking animals, doing things just to survive, to feed the human animal goes and find food, to breed the human animal would capture a mate. actually that is an area that interest me very much as a person that has the time to think. when that unthinking human animal breed, did it have lust? it is hard to imagine lust without imagination. maybe observations of cats in heat would help us understand so, just have to make sure nobody is watching you observe cats fucking, what a pervert.
then communities come to being, a collection of humans just shedding their animalness cooperating for the benefit of the collection themselves. maybe when humans were still human animals we were already in a community, who knows really? to get back to the subject, within a community of humans there would always be an oppressor, exploiting others within the group to submit to his will. with strength or intelligence he would not need anymore to look for food, others do it for him. he need not capture a mate by his own, the female of the community would of course choose him over the submissive members of this tribe, the female that belongs to the oppressor would of course be treated like him eventhough she is herself being exploited. That double helixed molecule within every cell of living thing again, making it’s presence known with it’s continuous struggle for immortality even if it would have to discard fifty percent of it information to be traded with the information from another half of another molecule from another living being.
there i go again, looking at things from that angle. therein lies madness.
i tried to follow the advice of a wise man who said to be really happy, contented happy. one should: have friends that are close, have some money but not too much, time for self-reflection. i know that i have achieved two of the criteria. except the part about friends, now for me that is a hard thing to manage.
i have trouble socializing since i could remember, my parents worked on a farm, the owner gave them permission to build a shack on an unused patch of land near the forest. as a result of this, i had no contact whatsoever with other people other than my parents. my parents would not even let me know the farm owner who they said likes young boys. back then i was confused by this, isn’t it good then for me to be friends with the owner, i wondered out loud whenever the topic came up. then one day while helping father feed the goats i saw the owner’s land rover drive up the muddy dirt road to his farmhouse. when the land rover stopped i saw that he was not alone, with him was two people, one of his many young friends, this one in particular had a limp right hand that was atrophied and a boy who looked just turned thirteen. long story short, the boy ran away before anything could have happened. then was when i understood father’s warning in it’s fullest.
that ends my log today, i’m too tired to continue and sleep has cast it’s net over my consciousness and i am barely awake. again this is another demonstration of that advice my father gave me years ago on that farm. to have the best meal, the best spice is hunger and to have the best sleep, the best blanket is a full day’s sweat and toil.
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day 4000 since the forgetting
it is the rainy season again and the provision i have made during the easy months are adequate and i hope that i would not again have to suffer the terrible hunger that i think prompted the forgetting 4000 days ago.
today i found a chest buried on the northern end of the island and in it among other things was a typewriter with spare ribbons and a few reams of paper, which is the reason why the journal you are reading now is nice for a change and not the normal found cardboard and squid ink. the typewriter looks well-worn and can not type capital letter but other than that it’s okay.
also in the chest i found a thick pile of paper about 15 centimetres thick, that apparently was written using this typewriter too. cursory reading of the first few yellowing pages reveals a young man writing his thoughts about his life in a city which he does not name.
i think this is what i’m going to read this rainy season which is good because i guess i can already memorize all the books i currently have.
