I remembered this song https://youtu.be/nnxPKY7NSoM and somebody special I can't sleep Doesn't the news feel like well written satire? I wish happiness felt designed Like somebody benevolent and loving poked things into place One of my favorite books is Essays in Love by Alain de Botton I was drawn to it in a bookstore and it overwhelmed my stinginess I was in university and I related to its uncomfortable position between philosophy and self help And when I finished I kept flipping the last page back and over again I found an email address on the cover and stupidly assumed no one would ever see anything I sent, so I addressed him as Baldy and asked him what happened next He replied, far too kindly I still smile when I see School of Life videos pop up on my newsfeed In the book he talked about how one of the first stages of falling in love includes convincing yourself that everything between you was fated Now I think of it as wishing together for God And now I never believe it's fated It's not so sad. If someone starts interpreting us that way, I believe that I'm loved It's funny that besides fear of impending death that's the moment when most people look up Maybe it's a more latent fear of impending death Anyway, I remembered your song pretty Aspie, I hope you're better than okay -- I think you deserve it. I don't know what it's like to never be cowardly. I don't know what it's like to see clearly. You probably think that you miss things but you don't. You just don't anticipate the stupid filters the rest of us use to digest and interact with the world. Everybody else misses things. Not you. A lot of people read a lot of Buddhist literature to be like you. I still can't sleep. I'm reading Korean. It was designed, it didn't develop organically like other languages. If you're a burned out hippy who's suddenly nostalgic for structure, it's quite soothing to learn. And less intimidating than maths -- I tried so hard and then...topology. I can barely follow maps. My brain fried. But I can crochet hyperbolic planes and mobius strips. I don't understand how I can feel so heavy when my mind can't imagine stretchy space even when I'm holding yarn models in my hands. Doesn't anxiety require imagination? Maybe I have just enough to either be anxious or the kind of person who understands why Klein bottles are so exciting Maybe if I learn to be fluent in Korean, I can watch their famous maths tutorial shows (that's actually a thing, there's a celebrity maths teacher who wears costumes and prevents suicide) And then I'll understand four dimensional space. And then I won't have any imagination left to be anxious. And then I'll feel like somebody loves me and poked things into place minus a sudden consciousness of mortality. I'll let you know if it works. Maybe you'll walk into a bookstore and find me in an uncomfortable position between maths and self help. |