I wonder at the increasing bandwidth of my neuroses. From a point of rapacious paranoia, to an overwhelming sense of rightness, my mind seems freed to span a panoply of sensations. Am I losing my mind?
It may be a simple onset of nostalgia--some segment of my lifespan has been reached where memories begin to fashion themselves, and exhibit their manifestations without pause.
Freedom is a frightening thing--the more absolute, the more frightening.
No matter how low you look, there's always a level beneath your line of sight.
I try continually to capture some happiness I seem to remember enjoying sometime, but I don't exactly remember when. Actually, I can't remember what the happiness was, or when I gained or lost the capacity to feel it. I think it might be environment, or perhaps relationship oriented. Maybe I am just attaining some new level of neurosis never suspected previously, or even an awareness of existing neurosis.
Living "here" is an interesting study in what I don't want from life, and an interesting examination (to vary word forms) of what I can get from life. I traveled to the slightly less pretensious, if not hippier town of Mountain View. Accosted by rampant orientalism and the smell of stale patchouli, I wandered the street seeking validation from humans who by merely looking, could sense their connexion with me. I was disappointed and silly. I walked and walked and walked, I passed Sunnyvale, I passed Great America, I saw a family smeared across three lanes of beautiful pavement. It did nothing to lighten my mood.
With aching legs and organs, I arrived in what passes for downtown in San Ho...a stretch of slightly more dilapidated hotels and warehouses. Its shocking to see the wealth of silicon valley adjacent to this grinding soulless poverishment in this suburban agglomeration.
Defeated, and re-defeated, I board the train back to Palo Alto, to climb back into my little, expensive cave and dream of living.
