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Of finding something again

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I just sleep. I sleep to rest, to be away from the world that has given me so much and that I am not a part of anyway, to reset, to die. If only for a while.  I wake up and look at my phone, as all of us do now. The world painfully worlds, with no pauses and preambles: it elbows you in the face with all its glory, its vapid bitches, and all the iterations of the Andrew Tates of humankind. In everything we have a choice, save for one: this world. It is the ultimate given, the ultimate, ungentle, fact, and that we are in it. It doesn't stop. It can't; it doesn't have to. Immediately upon waking I close my eyes and dive deep into the recesses of whatever that was young that's left of me to desperately hunt for reserves of a desire to get up from bed, to work, to be . Two days ago I joked with my lover that I had been tired since 1984, and I think I mean it.  If not for him and another friend that gave me the time of the day in the MMORPG that I returned to, I would have ro...
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Time to quit

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This post has been a long time coming, so long a time it went back to even before I had this blog, or indeed, even before there was high-speed internet. Because this post will be about why I got drawn to philosophy when I was in first year college (in 1999). And I also suspect that this post is about love. I also suspect that the way I love is the way I deal with philosophy, which is by implication the way philosophy (if it were a mistress) deals with me, all of which contribute to the fact that I'm single. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I also suspect that I will always do that, like what I did six words ago. To begin. I didn't choose philosophy as my major when I signed up for university. Like most high school students, I had no idea what I would like to grow up as: the practical  question of what I wanted to spend my entire life building a career around isn't real, or isn't as real as... Hmm, give me a moment to say what is categorically real during high ...
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Mental disorders: Thoughts on a whatever something or other

I suppose I could start in plainer English discussing who I am as a layman not trained in psychoanalytic language, and if so will revert to the language that I do use when discussing anything worth discussing: half academic and half wit (indistinguishable at times from being a halfwit). As a layman I chose to major in philosophy, for better or worse, which is a fast track to being witty, or being a halfwit, and other things besides. Or I could start with a bombardment of links mostly pertaining to The Diagnostic Statistical Manual   IV and V  and increasingly technical accounts of co-morbidity and dual diagnoses involving bipolar disorder and borderline personality disorder until we both drown in jargon I will not be able to understand, much less simplify. For DSM-IV diagnostic criteria regarding bipolar disorders types I and II, look at  this  if you want a full jargon drowning, or  this instead  if only for its simplicity and overall pleasant color sche...
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