Portraits




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Homeless

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  I moved from my hometown to be with someone from another place, and I have spent two New Year's celebrations here. The decision to move was not carefully thought out. I rarely think life through, since I spend most of it dissociated, romanticizing my battles, or just being a human being no one can be proud of. My mother and sister were, when I was at a prestigious university pursuing my PhD and teaching, but I believe my other decisions far outweighed their pride and eventually they just - were there. I chose to be at a work from home job when dealing with people became too much, and have continued to feel never good enough for anyone in my family, my few friends, or the world at large. Sometimes I just put it in the back of my mind and pay bills and debts, sometimes, in the dark teatime of the soul, I just sleep with my uselessness as my last conscious thought.  It's the first day of the new year, and since I just turned 43, I found myself thinking about what I have become....
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Memory

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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...
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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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