2002-12-14 - 2:32 a.m.
My psychatrist says I'm addicted to the internet... stream-of-consciousness writing is so much easier to do than the other kind... the kind that involves outlines, citations, and paragraphs... the kind I'm supposed to be doing... another semester, another incomplete... years may be social constructionsn only inspired by natural phemonena, but in any case 2002 has not been a good year... but maybe I'm turing a corner with this new ADD drug combined with behavioral therapy... hence internet is strictly forbidden when i have a task to acomplish... i'm going to be really glad when my responsibilities will be over... which will be never... inside-the-head is an old columnists trick that can be very lazy or very effective, but it's impossible to tell if both... this one is for real though... actually, writing everything in my head is part of the behavioral therapy, which is really not much... he said, 'this is like when a kid who's in the first grade, bouncing off the walls, hyperactive, not learning anything, not paying attention, but gets promoted anyway for whatever reason, and then gets to fifth grade, gets ADD drugs, and calms down, but then still isn't succeeding because he's at the first-grade level... i understood that comment was based on a elementry-school parent conception of education, but i see what he's getting at and how it applies... i never, in all my years of education, felt that i had to follow the rules if i'm going to learn anything, which is the cornerstone of almost all educational systems... including new college... anyway, i can't really decide where to go from here... the only way i've been able to acomplish any writing in college is through enormous fear... very often, i've noticed, i don't let people finish, cutting them off as soon as they begin saying something... maria talked right over me in our phone conversation today... incidently, she did realy apprechiate it that I wrote that letter for her promotion to full professor, and thanked me for it a couple times... that which does not kill us makes us stronger... i hate chiches... i told maria that even though i found editing the paper to be most unpleasent this semester, i don't wish i hadn't done it, because i'm ultimitly glad that i did it, because it was an experience and because it is pleasing to me that now my 'narrative of success' is not bound up to the wonderful working environment that we had lat fall.. she agreed... god this has gone on a long time... heather and cuteboy just went to orlando for the night, with no explination other than that... the level of success that has come with living here has surpassed not only my expectations, but what i callled optimism... you could say this present at that point existed off the universe of possible futures... no you couldn't that's dumb... god this has gone on a long time... but i guess that's what thoughts do... consciousness blows... this probably isn't the best way of structuring this piece of writing for the reader's expectations and purposes in reading, as my new guide to writing that i stole from b&n earlier tonight would put it, but i don't care... not that i don't care about you, the reader... but i'm writing for myself... in the sense that when i stop i will have to find something else to do or work on my paper, which is already late and the subject of intense hatred on my part... monday i managed to write, under the influence of my new mediacation, a five-page final on the panopticonic shopping mall and them-park urban space on the conceptual landscape of urbanism -- in two hours, literally... that was pretty rad, but the mix was right -- grasp of the material, informal nature of the take-home final, lack of such involvement that i concepptualized a project too large, feeling of comfortableness that i had what david brain wanted, yet sufficient fear that he wouldn't give me an extension on the deadline, feeling that my term paper was really first-rate and nothing much was riding on this, and desire to see that the end of the stupid course, and the knowledge i'll probably never work with david brain again... all of those reasons, or conditions -- with the exception of 'desire to see the end of the stupid course' -- are the opposite in the case of this paper... although i am pretty excited about the topic... earlier this week regina, robbie and i watched the o'reilly factor together, which i had turned on and they happened to be sitting there... first it was jeanen garaflo and some actor who is in the 'sapranos' ... i should warn about atrocious spelling in this section, ooops, off task thoughts... some actor who was in the sapranos and the matrix (i can't remember which secondary character) discussing the situation in Iraq... I swear, it was like watching a saturday night live sketch... garaflo was being totally serious and was idenditified as "actor/activist"... reality is going to put satire out of business... or at least fox news is... it's like the daily show 24 hours a day only without the self-awareness... but not only is it more entertaining than anything else on television, but CNN has more technical errors than the catalyst on a bad week... right, the catalyst, i'm not responsible for that shithole anymore... not that it wasn't a blast, but i'm a little burned out.. i can't believe i'm still writing this... i haven't even covered half the things that happened to me today... and i barely left the house... though when i did it was marvlious... or at least dissipated the headache that i can't decide is the result of ritalin or staring at screens for 12 hours a day... i looked at the image of the elaborate time-release mechanism on the drug's web site, and then cut the pill open and to my surprise found it looked exactly like the diagram... not that i plan on abusing this -- in fact, one of my conditions for this treatment is that i'm actually going to try, because honestly, my problems are real... but i'm not doing so great as of late, but we'll see... maybe i just need to start from the beginning... so much to say, so little time... in less than a week i'm flying to upsate new york to be with my family.. boy am i looking forward to that... i'm trying not to think about it... it is amazing how under apprechiated eminem is... i wish i could spell, but then again, i wish a lot of things about myself... such as my parents weren't crazy... oh wait, insanity is a social construction, right... neverhteless unbundle that concept and look at the relations that makke it up as I refer to it, and i feel legitimized that i have a fair enough complaint... not that i blaim them so much, but when you're lied to consistently for the first 15 or so years of your life then you have a tendency to develop some fucked-up ideas and modes of behavior... i'm griding my teeth as i write this... there, i've stopped, and i feel better... everything about me despritly wants a period right now... but i can't bring myself to write one... do you "write" punctuation, or is it dictated by the words and thoughts and arrangement? discuss... I guess that it's just part of grammar, which is deployed in writing, and in something this subjective I'm in full control of whether to place one... but i haven't said everything i wanted to... yes, but life's short and that's what you get for writing without a plan... i didn't even notice it was friday the 13th... this is going nowhere... i guess one thought that is haunting me but i have trouble mentioning is something maria mentioned, that uzi's been really affected by the recent death of his brother. i had already heard this, but as she put it, 'when you have an illness you have some time to prepare, but his brother was just one day driving home from work and... [actual trailing off] Two kids. Really sad. Difficult to take." yeah, and how do you deal with someone who you know is feeling that? what can you say to them? i don't know. but it gives you pause.
Now this is over... the idea is that writing all this out will give me mental space to plan and then undertake the day, but the day is a failure... and i'm not sure where exactly to stop... i ussually jsut go for one page, but that's not so much an option here... at the end of it i write up a 'plan for success' that will not guide my day, but in fact command it... and no television or internet, which i am addicted to... which i agree... it is kind of nice to have a professional diagnosies to validate all that diverted medication i consumed over the years... it is also nice to have my room cleaned and in a reasonable sense of order... nevertheless, there is a rocky climb ahead... la la la-la... connect the dots... la la la-la... connect the dots... i think that comes from a saturday night live sketch where mike myers played a child... i'm not sure... my mental archatecture sure has a lot of junk in it... like a landfill.. and about as organized... argh, i was going to stop this... i jsut bought a book on planning and exectuing papers... it's well-written, too... anyway, i am going to make another crack at that... wish me luck... oh yeah, and best of luck to you, with all your quasi-mental illness relational problems... those who are about to die salute you... or rather not die, but just enter hell...
