AT THE STOA

I was about to write about bipolar II and borderline personality disorder yesterday evening, over a beer I shouldn't be having and on a carpet I should have cleaned one week ago. I started with, "The thing with bipolar II co-morbid with borderline personality disorder is that there is not one thing about them; they're a clusterfuck of motherfucking things. No, this is not an inspirational story." Yada yada yada, ended up with three or five other sentences, found that I cannot rope concepts and causality properly, and gave up. I just drank beer and disappeared from the world. I know, and I will repeat - neither of these things are things I should be doing. Come today I was mostly alright, stabilizing enough from the alcohol that I shouldn't have been having, and managed to be a functional adult. You, I imagine, are like that, say, after having had coffee, or a hug, or rest from whatever it is that life bludgeons you with. Or whatever it is that you bludgeon your

I heard somewhere that were it not for entropy, time would not be linear for us. It being linear is the only reason why we can anticipate or remember, and why those words even mean anything to begin with, and why those words are the same words only facing opposite ends. However, the linearity of time is nothing compared to what the human brain does. It processes things as they happen, but it is only in retention and protention that it can understand what it processes. In short, our minds are never in the right time. There is no right time. There is no now. There is only anticipation or dread of a time that will end, and there is only memory of a time that has ended. The paradox in the entire thing, of course, is that without the now, neither of those states would be. And that is why time hurts. We are in it, things happen the order they do because of it, and it is merciless to the last second, especially when one has to leave. It is more merciless because of things that wi