i need better words for some of these things

sometimes, he said to me, the words don't come out right and it's all a jumble.

i think that happens to a lot of us, i said and trailed off like i always do. i don't know if he heard the last part.

today: windy. cold. momentary reassessments; i feel good, though i only say good because i don't have a better word for it. i don't feel 'bad.' so, necessarily, i must feel the opposite. i feel somewhere in between the two. then i run up against quality and what it means to be either of them. what is the context of these so often-used words? how the fuck are you supposed to answer the ubiquitous question: "how are you?" without them? although, to be fair, how many people do you know that answer with "bad"?

when i think about this, i begin to feel less "good" than i did before. does that mean i feel "bad" or "worse"? momentary reassessment: if thinking about this makes me feel differently than i did when i started, then i should stop thinking about this.

<<

today: windy, cold. leaves in brittle piles on the sidewalk. woke up with yeasayer in my head. strange how that happens. one day it's this, the next day, that. fleet foxes happened a day or so ago. before that, apes & androids. for a long, long time, bon iver. i think i can say that my favourite music is the music which repeats itself, silently, in my dreams. perhaps even informs them, as a rivers do oceans.

described my ideal world to myself yesterday. i am approaching some semblance of it, some settlement. i am writing, if not every day, every other day. journal entries, or coffeeshop notebook entries. from time to time, a burst of a story or a scribbled-out poem. peristaltic at best. i am now into part II of godel, escher & bach. i hope there is less number theory in this part. after that, i have a book on the development of the english language. interspersed, i have a book of zen koans, and some early zen writing.

{i used to curse Kerouac for 'the dharma bums'. i said it was when his light changed. it's the one where he starts Buddhaing all over the place. i felt that the energy he exuded, which i identified with so strongly, was unnameable before, and that gave him a sort of mysticism. but then suddenly, he found a label for it.}

suddenly i find myself thirsting for routine, for regularity, for schedule. i want to wake up early and go to the gym, or for a run or something, or DO something, then go to the coffeeshop and sit. and read and write. to study physical movement, the basic mechanics of the body. to meditate, to be conscious. to be present. to inspire trust. to be able to emit in a healthy way. to exist with my own energy and not need others' for the sake of basic maintenance.

suddenly. i'll be 25 next thursday. quarterlife crisis. i put such emphasis on birthdays, yet i've never really celebrated one. i've been drunk, but i've never felt ... completed. this year, i want to really celebrate the fact that i got myself where i am. i also want to celebrate that i have a long way yet to go.

i should end there, but there's something else i have to say: something i've been reading in these Zen books. talking about enlightenment as being non-enlightened, talking about realizing that once everything is simply everything that you are enlightened. i feel like i, myself, am aware of this fact and that it exists, but i am completely disconnected from it. there is too much emphasis on the future. i feel as though my next challenge is patience; patience & modulating that future-consciousness down a few nodes. future-mindfulness.

perhaps i truly can change for the better.

(you're all going: DUH)

sometimes, he said to me, the words don't come out right and it's all a jumble. i can never say what i mean.

you can never say what you mean, i said, almost automatically.

lately i sleep on my back.