It has come to my attention that I have in the past devoted significant amounts of time towards gaining a single adjective attached to my being, like being well-read, or being carefree, or being obliviously attractive. I’m not proud of it, but I’m also not yet sure whether I should be ashamed of it.
Reading novels like Einstein’s Dreams, texts that survey human life and distill it to simple actions of arbitrary and interchangable men and women — always put me in an odd state of mind. The Bible. One Hundred Years of Solitude. I can’t quite describe it. It takes me out of the present, takes me out of engaging truly in interactions: persons are people, and everything is somehow mechanical, a board game.
- takes metaphors slightly too far
- contradictory dialogue immediately to light effect
- repetitive short phrasing to simplistic effect
to write something and simultaneously do that thing
8/15/16, 9:29pm, notes on iPhone
the importance of reading but also that he prioritized living in the nature
the sounds – minimal human sounds, lengthy descriptions of nature (birds, leaves)
appreciating the pond – water is green in large quantities, like glass
pg. 24. ‘unconditional positive regard’
Just a particularly good day.
A pleasant surprise of a late start for school. So, delicious breakfast of squash and some Jane Eyre, as well as a solid page or so of the concerto.
Just tons of energy at school, with people and whatnot. Greeting and jabbering to everyone; I couldn’t help it.
JL gave me a ride home; had a job interview; GOT THE JOB FIRST JOB WOOHOO
Got a call from a professor to tell me my absolutely FRICKIN AMAZING AID PACKAGE FOR COLLEGE WOOHOO
Oh yeah and she really likes me? WOOHOO
Car shopping (a bit tiring, that bit, and not happy-making), and mexican food. This was all eh but WHO CARES WOOHOO