happy pi day everyone.
i'm feeling relatively okay. i sent a pdf of the story thus far (52 pages of it) to a friend on facebook, and while the feedback hasn't been elaborate, i did get a nice pat on the back. maybe it isn't so terrible after all. i had gotten the feeling that, as i describe it, i had gotten confused untangling/tangling a long roll of extension cord- or a lengthy green-snake garden hose. that was the feeling of my plot lines, which seem to have evolved with each 4 page entry that i wrote- maybe a good thing, maybe not...
other than that, not much to report... i work very very slowly in the yard/garden. i suppose it represents my attitude towards life nowadays... i fiddle with things gently around the edges. everything, i suppose, has its skin, and it is most comfortable to respect that skin. to act too aggressively, to not modify the edges of things gradually... there's too much violence, and more importantly, there's too much effort in that. so i like to keep things relatively clean and uninvolved. which means, in a certain sense, that everything remains a mess, in process. at the moment, the backyard is strewn with huge cut branches... branches that i have progressively cut from one of the ficus trees in the backyard... which it is my present goal to remove, that i no longer have something which can collapse and bludgeon my house in half... and so that there will be more sunlight in the backyard, which would allow crops to grow here...
the green leafy plants that i purchased from walmart, i have finally transplanted into the aquaponics growbeds. they seem to be doing nicely. finally, the fish all have something to clean their filthy water.
*****
right now, i'm listening to salman rushdie. he's the next "master" that i've selected to go through in my masterclass lessons. i like him so far. i've never read any of his work, although i do recall all that hullaballoo when he'd written his "satanic verses," something, i believe, about how he was a target for assassination by muslims for his portrayal (sacrilegious, blasphemous) of allah. at least that was my impression of things. i wasn't really up on current events back then. but i like him so far, and i would like to read more of his work...
*****
sometimes, in retrospect, i think that my brother really wasn't so bad... and that i'm making much ado about nothing... and that writing is precisely a making much ado about nothing... so writers have as much to do with objective truth as... well, i can't think of anything at the moment, but they really don't have much to do with each other at all... that's why it's probably hard to be a zen master and a good storyteller. because the words get in the way.
*****
my life is just tasks. maybe the tasks insulate me. but i feel like they give my life the illusion of progression, and that illusion is essential. there is something dangerous about staying still. there's this quant notion of staying still that if you do it enough, then everything just settles into its own skin. the only problem with that is that it overlooks the fact that there's also something perpetually pursuing us. and staying still will only get us eaten by the wolves: skalli and hati. and even without those external wolves, there are the internal ones... the worms of our death, prematurely intruding into our lives, because they suddenly think it's their time and their age for feasting, because we haven't stirred in a few hours...
stillness is death.
(it can also be enlightenment, but how many times have we mistaken death for enlightenment, or enlightenment for death? it's a gamble which you'll end up with.)
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