2-17

You are the most

The words linger on the page, spots of ink on paper, an incomplete thought. Maybe he is too scared to finish the whole thing. To string his thoughts together like beads, to put these delicate but all too simple thoughts into words, to have them read (possibly), to have them heard (possibly), by anyone other than himself – has he ever felt so exposed? No, not even when the fire of a thousand suns sprang from a thousand suns and razed miles of desert

What would he say to her that a hundred million others before him have not already said? What could he say to her that a thousand greeting cards mantras could not say? Had he the ingenuity to weave together some

I want to be 16 again and not be so dumb. Not to be so dumb about it. I want to be a middle schooler and walk to school, to the subway, with headphones and Gleb’s CD player in my pocket, my baggy ski coat’s pockets, because I broke my own. I want to wake up to Purple Haze on my clam shell phone at seven in the morning and not get to school on time, ever. I want to go through everything again but I also want to be 24 while I’m getting there because I want the me now to remember what I was like then but also for the me then to know what I know now so that I can see things clearly, as they were, with a different set of eyes instead of just remembering. I still walk by the same places I walked all those years earlier. The same highways, the same streets, with the occasional new building or new playground but I want to be two things at once – two impossible things at once – because I don’t know what to do with myself in this moment. I wish I knew what was going to happen to me. I wish I knew what this was all for and whether or not I actually got anywhere – or where I got, if I got somewhere. Where do I go now? All the things that can go wrong but there are a few things that went right. I’m not even sure how to feel about all of this. Where do I go what is going to happen and why – will it be okay will it be okay? I can’t tell and it scares me that I can’t tell and that I won’t know until it happens and years from now I’ll look back and want to be 24 again and want to be 24 wanting to be 16 again – and you didn’t listen to your parents to enjoy your time when you were 16 because you’re only 16 but you knew that and you believed them but what were we supposed to do with that kind of information when you are in that moment except to not understand and forget it and walk on and keep being 16 in the moment and be 16 just once – what happens to us – can you still remember the stairs, going across the bridge, the pale linoleum floors, the fading lights and raucous of students in the stairs, the escalators that never worked, morning light that you never see now because you’re not up that early coming in across the squares they called windows – all the things that mattered then and all the things that matter now and everything in between – what was any of that for – where did all the time go.

So…more. I found more of this.

I have to sleep but I don’t feel okay. My internal sadness, apprehension, sickness, whatever the fuck it is that is bothering me so bad is manifesting it through my inability to crack a Sorin. I just blew nearly one hundred fifty dollars to try to get one card worth not even a third of that amount. I have problems. I have issues. I feel inadequate. Chelsea cracked a Sorin and good mythics. I crack crap. But then again, there are more important things at stake here, such as my school work and job propsects. Usually, I tend to think these thoughts to make myself better when I compare myself to her, or just as a cheer me when I think of rising GPA, but this semester is already off to bad start. I’ve neglected my schoolwork for various reasons. I can’t get a job, at all. And, well, fuck, I don’t sleep. I don’t get shit done. I feel like crap. Like Crap. There are papers due for things I didn’t even read or understand. I just want to tear my hair off and cry. Coffee is needed her to sustain me through my classes so I can learn something and work on my paper that is due next Monday. I can just sleep through my first class and be awake for my second, something like that. We can try that. Writing always calms me down but the second I stop I know I won’t be okay again. I can feel it coming back, that feeling in my chest that makes me sad, that makes me sick, I don’t know what it is, but its not going away and I’m scared. I wish Allen didn’t have to sleep. I want to be comforted like a small child, or a whimpering puppy in the arms of someone loving, comforting and just….calming. I don’t even know, I just want someone to hold me and tell me that it will be okay and then I actually want it to be okay. I want to get a job instead of just going to useless interviews and being rejected. I just want a job. I should have just accepted that unpaid internship and kept looking. I’m so scared. And now I don’t have time. I am just soscared. So, scared. I will I was skinnier. I will I had actual talent. I wish I wasn’t a philosophy major so people will take me seriously and just give me a goddamn job, even though I am getting response, I completely forgot to respond to that guy from Citelighter. I need to do that.

1. What is the problem or question that Descartes is trying to address in his discussion? Is it the same or different from the problem Hume is trying to address?
a. Hume
i. Hume wants to figure out what is the case that makes us believe in the existence of body. He takes for granted that a body exists in the first place.
ii. He wants to find out the nature laws, like Newton did, and not give the underlying reason why.
b. Descartes
i. Descartes wants to, in a way, remove his grounds for doubt. In the first meditation, Descartes wants to find out what he can be certain out. But, everything is subject to doubt because he can experience everything he experiences now in a dream, or God is deceiving him. In getting rid of his grounds for doubt, he can know what is absolutely certain.
c. Similarities and differences
i. While Descartes is concerned with what he can be certain of, if there is anything he can be certain of, Hume takes for granted that there is something he can already be certain of (whether his body exists or not) and is concerned with what makes us believe in the existence of the body. Hume says, suppose we have a body, what causes to believe that it exists? Descartes says, suppose we are always dreaming or God is always deceiving us, what can we be certain of? Can we be certain that our bodies exist?
2. Is Descartes more or less successful than Hume in addressing the problem (or are they equally successful)? Is it fair to say that Descartes is trying to defeat skepticism about the external world while Hume defends it? What does “skepticism” mean in each case?
a. Hume
i. Skepticism for Hume is to know that everything that happens in the external world is a probability and cannot be deduced and induced from anything.
b. Descartes
i. Descartes is trying to defeat skepticism about the external world because he wants to find out what he can be certain of and by the time he gets around to Meditation 6, he is again certain that he exists, his body exists, God exists and the external world exists.
ii. If he can no longer make errors, and he can connect present with past knowledge, knowing that the senses are more often than true and not false, he does not have to fear that his senses report to him false things and can reject his dreaming ground for doubt.
iii. Skepticism for Descartes is a methodological process of weeding out what is certain and what is uncertain.
c. Who is more successful?
i. Hume is more successful in my mind but both he and Descartes’ answers to the problem above are problematic.
ii. For Hume, the principle that all ideas are copies of impressions present difficulties.
iii. For Descartes, he relies on many innate principles in his proofs, such as the ambiguous innate light of nature which is supposed to make things clearly and distinctly perceivable. Light of nature is completely questionable and it is from this, and the fact that nothing greater can come from the lesser, that he proves the existence of God. And, in God’s perfect existence, he is benevolent, so Descartes removes God as a deceiver from his grounds for doubt. However, what the heck is the light of nature and what the heck does it mean to clearly and distinctly perceive anything?

What is Hume saying?

1. The Question
2.
1. The question
a. Descartes’ question
i. Descartes’ goal, at the beginning of meditation 1, is to establish a foundation for his beliefs by systematically removing all the beliefs of which he is not certain and leaving behind what he can be certain of.
ii. The question Descartes is asking is whether or not material things exist in the external world. At the beginning of meditation 6, he knows that pure mathematical things exist. Whatever he can clearly and distinctly perceive exist.
b. Hume’s question
i. Hume is asking what causes the belief that there is such an external world. He does not want to ask whether there is an external world, he wants to know what causes the belief to arise that there is such a world.
c. Similarities or differences?
i. The main difference between the question Descartes is asking and the question Hume is asking is that while Descartes wants to find out whether or not he can be certain of the existence of an external world, Hume takes this point to be for granted and instead, investigates what makes us believe that such an external world exists.
ii. Descartes believes that we cannot trust our senses with regard to the external world. If we consider a piece of wax, all the information we receive from the senses are constantly changing and the only aspect of the wax that remains the same is that the wax is extended in space. Even then, the wax is malleable and can take on an infinite number of configurations which prompts Descartes to conclude that we can only ever grasp things through a faculty of the mind. Thus, the question that Descartes asks is how can we be certain of an external world? How can we become certain that the external world exists through a faculty of our minds?
iii. Hume, on the other hand, believes that all of our ideas come from impressions. Every simple idea has a corresponding impression. This is the complete opposite of what Descartes believes. Instead of saying that only the mind can grasp what the wax is, Hume says that our senses provide us with impressions of the wax. All of our ideas that we receive from impressions are related through Hume’s principles of association, the strongest one being cause and effect. (?) Thus, the question Hume asks is what causes us to believe that the external world exists in the first place.
2. The answer?
a. Descartes’ response
i. He is certain of the external world because he can connect present with past knowledge using his senses.
ii. Is he trying to defeat skepticism about the external world?
1. In a way, Descartes is trying to defeat skepticism about the external world because he is trying to find what is absolutely certain by getting rid of his grounds for doubt, such as the dreaming doubt. He says that now he can get rid of the dreaming doubt because he is able to connect things with memory.
iii. What does skepticism mean for Descartes?
1. Skepticism for Descartes is a methodological process of finding out what is certain and what is uncertain. He believes that we cannot be certain of the information we receive from the senses.
b. Hume’s response
i. He tries to find out what causes our belief that the external world exists. Is it the senses, imagination or reason? It is not the senses, it is not reason, it must be imagination. Imagination gives rise to our belief of the external world. There is a particular quality in our impressions that makes us think their existence is continued and this quality is constancy. All objects that we think continually exist have constancy which is what makes them different from impressions, which are brief and perishable. But, bodies changes. So, continually existent objects also
ii. Is he trying to defend skepticism about the external world?
iii. What does skepticism mean for Hume?

1. What are they saying?
a. Descartes
i. Descartes is trying to find out what knowledge he can be absolutely certain of. His aim in the meditation is to establish a firm foundation for his beliefs. He gets rid of all of his present beliefs that he cannot establish as absolutely certain and tries to see what he has left with. He cannot trust his senses because everything he senses when he is awake, he can sense when is asleep. He might also just be deceived by God, who has the power to deceive him about anything, even math. So, Descartes’ goal is to try to get rid of these doubts and establish what he can be absolutely certain about, including the existence of the physical world.
ii. He establishes in the early meditations that he does grasp objects through the senses because the senses could be deceiving him. Even if it commonly accepted that what we grasp through the sense is most immediately, Descartes believes that because what we grasp through the senses changes and does not always remain in the object, the objects cannot be distinctly grasped through the senses.
iii. Because Descartes does not trust the senses, everything he establishes comes from the examination of his mind and he finds that in his mind there are these innate principles about the light of nature and God’s perfection and so on.
iv. Descartes also tries to establish the existence God, so he can remove God as a source of doubt. He does so by relying on many a priori or innate principles such as the light of nature.
b. Hume
i. Hume is trying to give you a complete picture of how people form beliefs, not what beliefs people can be certain of.
ii. Hume, on the other hand, begins by saying that every simple idea comes from an impression. We get impressions through the senses. There are no a priori principles or innate principles, every idea we have comes from some impressions. The grounds for believing some comes from experience and not by simply examining one’s mind.
iii. He divides everything into relations of ideas and matters of fact.
iv. All of these ideas are connected or related through the principles of association, the strongest of which is cause and effect. In fact, we cannot every be certain of anything because the only thing that ties together cause and effect is habit. We keep repeating the same actions and find out eventually
2. What is the problem or question they are trying to address? Is it the same or different problem?
a. Descartes
i. Descartes is addressing the question: does the physical world exist or not?
b. Hume
i. Hume is addressing the question: what causes us to believe the physical world exists?
c. Different
i. These questions are fundamentally different. Descartes wants to know whether the physical world exists or not while Hume takes for granted that world exists and wants to know what causes bring about this belief that the world exists?
3. Who is more successful or are they equally successful? Is it fair to say that Descartes is trying to defeat skepticism and Hume is defending skepticism about the external world? What does skepticism mean in each case?
a. In terms of addressing the problems that they pose, they are only successful insofar as they provide a response. Because the two questions are different, it is hard to gauge how much more successful one philosopher’s response is than the other’s. However, both responses have their own problems.
b. It would be fair to say the Descartes is trying to defeat skepticism. Having establish God’s existence, he uses his senses along with memory to conclude that he no longer has to fear that what his senses report to him may be false or that he may be in a dream.
c. Descartes’ skepticism is a methodology that he applies to his beliefs to find which ones are certain and which are not. His skepticism is broad in the sense that it applies to everything, even mathematical beliefs.
d. Descartes believes that the external world exists after establishing that God exists and that he can make mistakes. But, even if his senses are faulty but are most of the time good, he can get rid of his early dreaming doubt because memory can connect his present experiences with his past experiences. If someone, as in a dream, just plops down in front of him randomly, he can rely on his memory and realize that this man has no connection to any of previous experiences or his life in general whereas in a dream, he readily accepts that man’s being there as normal.
e. Hume, on the other hand, replies to his question by examining the possible causes of such a belief. It might have come from the senses, reasoning or the imagination. He concludes that neither sense nor reason can be responsible for an object’s continued existence.
f. Even though Hume provides a response to his question, he is actually defending skepticism about the external world.
Despite the differences between Descartes’ rationalist principles and Hume’s empiricist principles
One of the problems that Descartes confront in the Meditations is the question of whether or not an external, material world exists independently of himself.

In Meditations on First Philosophy, Descartes endeavors to find which of his beliefs he can be absolutely certain of, if any of them. He begins, in Meditation One, by subjecting the fundamental beliefs upon which all of his other beliefs are based to doubt. These fundamental beliefs arise either from the senses or through the senses but Descartes does not believe the senses to be reliable. First, the senses are occasionally wrong and it is not wise to trust the senses even if they are only mistaken once. Second, there is no difference between what he senses when he is awake and what he senses when is dreaming. It could just as well be the case that is constantly dreaming. Third, an all-powerful God may be deceiving him about the existence of the sky, the earth, shapes, and size, anything and everything he senses.
By Meditation Six, Descartes has already established that he exists solely as a thinking thing, God exists and God is not a deceiver. But, Descartes has yet to establish the existence of an external, material world. This is the problem that Descartes address in the Meditation Six: does such an external, material world exist? Descartes offers two arguments for the existence of the external, material world. The first relies on a distinction he draws between the intellect and the imagination. There are two distinct faculties, one of intellect and one of imagination. Earlier in the Meditations, Descartes uses the example of a 1000-sided figure, a chiliagon, to exemplify the difference between these two faculties. The intellect faculty can easily conceive of a 1000-sided figure because with the relevant concepts, it can conceive of a figure with one thousand sides. Yet, when we use our imagination to conceive of the chiliagon, the imagination faculty can only muster a vague image of some many-sided shape. In fact, there would be no difference between the imagination faculty’s conception of a 1000-sided figure and a 10,000-sided figure. In both cases, the imagination would bring up the same vague image of some many-sided shape that is neither precisely a 1000-sided shape nor a 10,000-sided shape.
With that said, the faculty of imagination requires, according to Descartes, a different and extra effort than that of the effort needed to employ the faculty of intellect. He attributes this distinction to the fact that there is a body attached to his mind. Whereas the faculty of intellect, when it understands, turns to look at the mind and the ideas in the mind, the faculty of imagination, when it imagines, turns to look at the body and something in the body that is associated with an idea in the mind or a sensory perception. An extra effort is required on the part of the faculty of imagination because Descartes’ mind is tending to something in the body that is not normally associated with the mind. Even if Descartes’ beliefs about the two distinct faculties could somehow prove the existence of an external, material world, given that his body exists and his mind and body are connected in such a way, he dismisses this argument as only a “probable conjecture” (Descartes).
In order to properly define the terms needed to make clear Descartes’ second argument, I will speak briefly about Descartes’ proof of God’s existence in Meditation Three. In his proof, Descartes uses the terms formal reality and objective reality. Formal reality is what something has in virtue of its existence. Objective reality, on the other hand, is the reality that is contained in representations. For example, a dozen blocks of ice all have the same formal reality insofar as each block of ice is a material thing. Now, suppose an ice sculptor carves each block of ice into different animals, each one of these ice sculptures now have different amounts of objective reality depending on what the sculpture represents. The ideas represented by each sculpture are what contain the objective reality while the ice blocks from which the sculptures are made contain the formal reality.
Moreover, Descartes’ proof is founded on several a priori principles, a priori meaning that the justification of these principles does not require anything beyond one’s mind. These principles do not need to be justified by any experience about the world because they can be justified by looking at the ideas already in one’s mind. On the other hand, a posteriori principles do require justification in the form of experience. They cannot be justified by the ideas in one’s mind alone. I believe that when Descartes refers principles shown to him by the mysterious “light of nature” to be indubitable in Meditation Three, he is referring to such a priori claims. He says, “whatever is shown [him] by the light of nature…cannot in anyway be doubtful” (Descartes). But, he provides no further explanation of what this light of nature is or why he believes claims that follow from it to be indubitable. Furthermore, the foundational claim in his proof of God’s existence – that the objective reality of a thought cannot be greater than the formal reality of its cause – is certain because it has been shown to him by this light of nature to be the case. What Descartes means by this claim is that if I were to have a thought about God, this thought of God must have come from somewhere, be it from myself, from the external world, or God.
After dismissing his first argument for the existence of an external, material world as mere probability, Descartes provides a second explanation which relies on what he refers to as his “great inclination” (Descartes) to believe that material things exist. God gave Descartes a great, innate propensity for believing in external, material objects. However, these external, material objects that he is greatly inclined to believe exists must have as much formal reality as his idea of those objects have objective reality. Again, if he has thoughts about external, material objects, then he must receive those thoughts from somewhere. The question remains: from where did he receive these thoughts? Descartes presents several possibilities for what causes these thoughts of external, material objects: a) something unknown faculty in him; 2) God; 3) external, material objects or 4) some other objects entirely. He rules out that the possibility of their being a faculty in him that produces these ideas because he, Descartes, exists as a fundamentally thinking thing and not an extended thing, which is what all of these external, material objects are. God cannot be the source of these thoughts as Descartes has already established that God is not a deceiver. If God were to have given Descartes both a great inclination to believe that external, material objects exist and no other faculty to determine whether or not such external, material objects actually do exist, then God would be a deceiver. But, because Descartes has established in Meditation Four that God is not a deceiver, Descartes concludes here in Meditation Six, that external, material objects exist.
Even after Descartes concludes that an external, material world exists, the Dreaming Doubt remains. In the last paragraph of Meditation Six, Descartes offers a solution to the Dreaming Doubt. By using his memory and his intellect, Descartes can now distinguish between being awake and being asleep. In dreams, it is typical for people or objects to suddenly appear or disappear. However, Descartes observes, this is not the case for when he is awake. If a man were to suddenly appear before him and he is not able to connect, using his memory, this experience of a man appearing suddenly before him, with a previous experience in his life that tells him where this man came from, then he can dismiss the man as a ghost or otherwise not real. There is no continuity between the events that happen in a dream as there is between events that happen when he is awake. Such continuity is what Descartes uses to remove the Dreaming Doubt.
Hume answers the problem of the external, material world using a completely different approach . In the first place, the question Hume addresses in The Treatise of Human Understanding is a different question from the one Descartes answers in Meditation Six. Whereas Descartes addresses the issue of whether or not an external, material world exists at all, Hume takes for granted that such a world does exist and instead, poses the problem of what causes us to believe in the existence of an external, material world?

Plausibility argument
There is a difference between two faculties I have, the faculty of thought and conception or of imagination and we notice they are different. If I ask you to think about a 1000 sided chilliagon, you can think about it clearly because you have the concepts but you cannot imagine it. The difference between imagining something, the point about the wax in meditation two. Why do you have these two things? You have an imagination because you have a thing attached to your mind that is a body, an extended thing and somehow your mind can turn to itself and tend to this attached body which is why it is hard because it is the mind tending to something that is not naturally associated with it. I can understand why there are these capacities that are different and I have them and why this one is easier and hard, it all makes sense if I think I have a mind and that’s a body and they are connected to each other. But, these arguments are plausible.

I have an innate inborn propensity to believe, I know I have these sensory things so they are giving me images of these extended things. They have the reality of extended shape eminently or formally, because you need at least as much reality in the cause of an idea formally or eminently as the idea has objectively. Something in me is capable of producing in me the idea of an extended object and whatever that cause is, it has in it either formally that shape meaning that it is that shape or it has that eminently like God who has the power to produce these things in me. There is a cause, I know it is not me and I am fundamentally thinking thing and not an extended thing. These appearances are either created in me by things that have the shapes or by something else that don’t have the shapes and furthermore I have an innate strong tendency to believe there are these shapes.
Strong tendency to believe there physical objects with these shapes. Either come from
Since God is not a deceiver, for god has not given me a faculty to find out there really are no shaped objects

Descartes However, because these external, material objects all have the reality, formally or eminently, of being an extended thing in space and

At the end of Meditation Six, Descartes concludes that the dreaming doubt in Meditation One is hyperbolic and ridiculous (Descartes). He can use his memory and his intellect, which Descartes believes to reliable having examined the potential sources of the intellect’s error and how to avoid them in Meditation Four, to distinguish between when he is awake and when he is dreaming. For example, if a man appeared suddenly in front of Descartes and he is unable to connect the man’s appearance through memory to a previous experience that explains how or why the man appeared suddenly in front of him, then Descartes would judge the man to not be real. This would have been impossible before Descartes proved the existence of God and established that God is not a deceiver. After all, how can he trust his senses or memory if he could be constantly deceived by an all-powerful God? And, even if Descartes is prone to errors, as long as he contains his judgments to what he is able to clearly and distinctly perceive with his mind, he will avoid making mistakes.
Descartes responds to the question, “Does the external world exist?” by first removing the doubts that he raises against his own beliefs in Meditation One. However, because Descartes relies on certain a priori principles in his proof of the existence of God, I do not believe that he has sufficiently dealt with the possibility of God’s existence as a deceiver. Descartes believes that whatever is shown to him by the “light of nature…cannot be in anyway doubtful” (Descartes 26) but he does not give any justification or even explanation of what this claim means. He basis his proof

He removes the skeptical doubts that he begins with in Meditation One, namely that he could be dreaming and that God could be a deceiver. Because Descartes rejects the view that knowledge comes from what we perceive through our senses, his proof in Meditation Three for God’s existence rests on certain innate, or a priori, principles of the mind. In order to find justification for these principles, we do not need to look beyond the contents of our minds; we do not need any experience to justify these principles. Again, Descartes is able to use the faculties of his mind alone to establish God’s existence as certain by positing the he has an innate idea of God which could not have originated in him. Furthermore, Descartes establishes that God is not a deceiver because, if God exists and his existence is perfection, deception cannot be a part of God’s perfection.

Descartes rejects that knowledge comes from the senses. In Meditation Two, after establishing that he himself exists solely as a thinking thing through the faculties of his mind, Descartes demonstrates that corporeal things are also grasped solely through the mind. He does so by using the example of a piece of wax. The aspects of the wax that we are able to perceive through our senses – the hardness of the wax, the fragrance of the wax and so on – are apt to change. By bringing the same piece of wax close to a fire, the wax loses its hardness, its fragrance and other sensory properties that we previously perceived through our senses. Even the imagination fails to grasp what the wax is: if the wax is a constantly changing, mutable thing then it is able to take on an infinite number of different shapes that is beyond the capabilities of our imagination. The mind, however, is able to grasp what the piece of wax really is: an extended thing in space. Thus, Descartes concludes that the mind alone is needed to perceive the wax is, not the senses or the imagination and this perception can either be confused or clear and distinct. Descartes then posits, at the beginning of Meditation Three, the general rule that everything he clearly and distinctly perceives with his mind is certain.

Plausibility argument
There is a difference between two faculties I have, the faculty of thought and conception or of imagination and we notice they are different. If I ask you to think about a 1000 sided chilliagon, you can think about it clearly because you have the concepts but you cannot imagine it. The difference between imagining something, the point about the wax in meditation two. Why do you have these two things? You have an imagination because you have a thing attached to your mind that is a body, an extended thing and somehow your mind can turn to itself and tend to this attached body which is why it is hard because it is the mind tending to something that is not naturally associated with it. I can understand why there are these capacities that are different and I have them and why this one is easier and hard, it all makes sense if I think I have a mind and that’s a body and they are connected to each other. But, these arguments are plausible.

I have an innate inborn propensity to believe, I know I have these sensory things so they are giving me images of these extended things. They have the reality of extended shape eminently or formally, because you need at least as much reality in the cause of an idea formally or eminently as the idea has objectively. Something in me is capable of producing in me the idea of an extended object and whatever that cause is, it has in it either formally that shape meaning that it is that shape or it has that eminently like God who has the power to produce these things in me. There is a cause, I know it is not me and I am fundamentally thinking thing and not an extended thing. These appearances are either created in me by things that have the shapes or by something else that don’t have the shapes and furthermore I have an innate strong tendency to believe there are these shapes.
Earlier in Meditation Two, Descartes gives the example of a piece of wax to show that only the mind, not the senses, can come to understand material things. It can also be applied here to demonstrate the difference between the faculty of imagination and of intellect. The aspects of the wax that Descartes is able to perceive through his senses – the hardness of the wax, the fragrance of the wax and so on – are apt to change. By bringing the same piece of wax close to a fire, the wax loses its hardness, its fragrance and other sensory properties that he previously perceived through his senses. Instead, the wax becomes soft and mutable and capable of taking on an infinite number of different shapes. But, the imagination cannot comprehend the infinite variety of shapes the wax can take on whereas the mind, the faculty of intellect can conceive of an object capable of infinite variations. The faculty of imagination cannot tell Descartes what the wax really is or what a chiliagon really is but the faculty of intellect can. The faculty of intellect has no difficult conceiving of either a malleable piece of wax that can change into an infinite number of shapes or a 1000-sided figure.

What is Hume saying?
1. The skeptic cannot defend his reason by reason so he is not able to proof that bodies exist using any philosophical argument. The existence of the body is too important to be left to our uncertain reasons and speculations so we should not, “Does a body exist or not?” but rather ask “What makes us believe that a body exists?”
2. What causes us to believe in the existence of a body? He draws a distinction here. Two questions, which are normally found together, are differentiated. Why do we thing that objects continue to exist even when they are not present to the senses? Why we think that objects have an existence distinct from mind and perception?
a. If objects continue to exist even if we cannot sense them, then their existence is independent and distinct from perception and they will continue to exist even if not perceived.
b. Is it the senses, reason or imagination that causes us to think that objects continue to exist?
c. These are the only questions to ask because it is absurd to think that the external world is different from our perceptions.
3. Senses are incapable of giving rise to the notion of continued existence. Senses produce a distinction existence but not a continued one.
4. Senses convey nothing but a single perception and no more. This single perception cannot produce the idea of a double existence but some inference of reason or imagination can. The mind infers from this single perception of relations of resemblance or causation.
5. The difficulty is not concerning the impressions’ natures but their relations and situation. If the impressions presented to the senses are external and independent of ourselves, the objects of the impressions and ourselves must be obvious to the senses.
6. This question of identity is hard and our senses alone cannot answer it. Absurd to imagine that the senses can distinguish between what is us and what is external.
7. Every impression appears to us to be on the same footing. The senses
8. Is it possible for our senses to deceive us? Does this proceed from sensation or some other cause?
9. Our own bodies belong to us and we consider impressions that appear outside us to be external. The paper, the walls, the fields outside the window. You can infer just from using your senses that no other faculty is needed to convince you that there is an external world. But, three considerations object to this inference.
a. We do not really perceive our bodies when we sense our limbs but just impressions through the senses to which we ascribe real and corporeal existence of these impressions through a process that is difficult to explain.
b. Sounds and tastes appear to the mind as separate qualities but have no extension and cannot appear to the senses as if they are external.
c. Even sigh cannot inform us of distance or “outness” without reasoning.
10. …
11. Senses do not give us a notion of continued existence. Senses cannot represent to the mind an actual object or the impression of a continued object.
12. Three different kinds of impressions conveyed by the senses.
a. Figure, bulk, solidity
b. Colors, tastes, smells
c. Pains, pleasures
13. A and B appear the same to the senses and the difference we ascribe to these categories arise not from perception but from something else. B and C are also different not through the senses but through imagination. As far senses are concerned, all perceptions exist in the same manner.
14. We can attribute to B a sense of continued existence without ever referring to reason or any other philosophical principles. Reason can also never gives us the existence of a continued and distinct existence of body. If we think that our perceptions and objects to the the same, we can never infer from one the other from any argument relying on cause and effect to give us matters of fact. Even if we can distinguish them, we can still not argue from the existence of one to the existence of the other. Imagination is responsible for the opinion that perceptions and objects are distinct.
15. All impressions are internal and perishing, so the notion of their continued and distinct existence must be because of some qualities of the continued bodies and qualities of the imagination. Not all perceptions are continued so only some impressions have certain qualities.
16. We do not attribute continued existence to certain impressions because they are involuntary or voluntary.
17. …
18. Objects to which we attribute continued existence have a peculiar constancy and makes them different from impressions whose existence depend on our perception. This is only true of impressions whose objects are supposed to have an external existence and not true of those which do not have an external existence.
19. Constancy is not perfect and there are exceptions. Bodies change position and qualities but they still preserve a coherence and dependence upon each other. The reasoning from causation produces the notion of their continued existence.
20. Opinion of continued existence of body depends on coherence and constancy of certain impressions.
a. Internal impressions also have a coherence but that coherence is different from the coherence of external objects. Passions have mutual connections and dependence on each other but these connections do not need to be perceived to be preserved. The same cannot be said of external objects. External objects

Hume believes that all simple ideas are connected through three principles of association: resemblance, contiguity and cause and effect. Because he spends very little time discussing the first two relations and focuses the majority of his efforts upon the relation of cause and effect, I will only examine cause and effect in this paper. Cause and effect is the strongest, most extensive association between ideas and underlies all reasoning concerning matters of fact because it is able to move past limitations of the senses and memory in linking together simple ideas
Hume believes that all simple ideas are connected through three principles of association: resemblance, contiguity and cause and effect. Because he spends very little time discussing the first two relations and focuses the majority of his efforts upon the relation of cause and effect, I will only examine cause and effect in this paper. Cause and effect is the strongest, most extensive association between ideas and underlies all reasoning concerning matters of fact because it is able to move past limitations of the senses and memory in linking together simple ideas. Using the principle of cause and effect, we can
We are raising Descartes’ skepticism, should I trust my senses? We do trust our senses. Hume is just pointing out that it is a fact aht I believe there is a chair there. That idea has a certain vivacity to me? It came from my present sensory experience, rightly or wrongly. Something I believe are straightforward. How is this idea based in experience? I am presently experiencing. I remember things that I am not experiencing. What about beliefs about the world that extend beyond senses and memory? They have to be based in experience and the question is how? There is only one principle: cause and effect, that allows this to happen. All reasoning that takes us from sense and memory, it is all cause and effect reasoning that gives rise to our beliefs about other matters of fact. How does experience instill in us the belief in a cause and effect relationship? What is the content of that belief when I believe that A causes B?

In a sense, Descartes is trying to defeat skepticism about the external, material world in the Meditations. He applies methodological doubt to
Hume answers the problem of the external, material world using a completely different approach. In the first place, the question Hume addresses in The Treatise of Human Understanding is a different question from the one Descartes answers in Meditation Six. Whereas Descartes addresses the issue of whether or not an external, material world exists at all, Hume takes for granted that such a world does exist and instead, poses the problem of what causes us to believe in the existence of an external, material world? Second, Hume believes that all simple ideas proceed from their corresponding impressions. Both ideas and impressions are kinds of perceptions, the difference between them being that impressions are more immediate and more forceful than ideas. Hume also draws the distinction between a simple idea and a complex idea. Simple ideas are impressions than cannot be separated and are derived from impressions of the world. Complex ideas are not derived from impressions as they can divid
Hume, in A Treatise of Human Nature, maintains that all knowledge comes from sensory experience. In the early sections of the Treatise, Hume establishes all ideas come from impressions.
1) The question they are asking is different
2) They have completely different approaches, namely what they believe about the senses and the mind
3) Descartes is trying to defeat skepticism, Hume is defending it?
4) What is the difference between their skepticisms
5) Neither of them are completely successful, what is wrong with both of their accounts

First, the senses are occasionally wrong and it is not wise to trust the senses even if they are only mistaken once. Second, there is no difference between what he senses when he is awake and what he senses when is dreaming. It could just as well be the case that is constantly dreaming. Third, an all-powerful God may be deceiving him about the existence of the sky, the earth, shapes, and size, anything and everything he senses.
Impressions are like a fresh footprint in wet sand where the contours and lines of the foot are clear and visible. But, when the tide washes over the sand, the footprint loses its distinct contours and lines and becomes like an idea, faint but still visible.
For example, it is obvious that my idea of a unicorn did not come from the senses because I, presumably, have never had any impressions of a unicorn. However, I have had impressions of a horse and a single horn.

Furthermore, even if the senses are capable of giving rise to such an idea of continued existence, then the senses are fulfilling the double duty of not only giving impressions of these external objects but also impressions of these external objects’ continued existences. But, Hume concludes, it is obvious that the senses fulfill only the former duty and convey only impressions of external objects to the mind and not impressions of their continued existence.
In any case, Hume concludes reason is not used to answer either of the two questions he is investigating.
Descartes offers two arguments for the existence of the external, material world. The first relies on a distinction he draws between the intellect and the imagination but he dismisses this argument as only a “probable conjecture” (Descartes). Thus, I will focus on his second argument for the existence of an external, material world.

Brief 1

Religious vs. Civic Sacrifice

Society is no stranger to the notion of sacrifice. A parent sacrifices everything for his child’s future. A lover sacrifices time and energy to please her partner. An athlete sacrifices other pursuits to excel in a certain sport. The list goes on. Yet, the modern concept of sacrifice is different from both the notion of religious sacrifice found in the Hebrew Bible and the notion of civic sacrifice found in the writings of the Ancient Greeks. Religious sacrifice, as portrayed in the Hebrew bible, is a ritual performed to make sacred one’s possessions in honor of God while the Ancient Greeks’ notion of civic sacrifice derives from a citizen’s duty to his city, state or country. The fundamental distinction lies in the role the individual plays in the sacrifice. Biblical religious sacrifice revolves around the individual’s faith and trust in God, in addition to the individual’s fear of God’s retribution. This stands in sharp contrast with the Greek notion of civic sacrifice which is firmly rooted in the belief that the community has prevalence over the individual. This initial differentiation and other distinctions that may stem from it are as exemplified by stories in the Bible and the writings and plays of the Ancient Greeks.
The main difference between religious and civic sacrifice is the role of the individual. The notion of religious sacrifice is representative of one’s personal faith in God while the notion of civic sacrifice focuses on one’s commitment as a citizen to a city or state. A religious sacrifice is the ritualized offering of an object –an animal, a child, a person, even oneself – that makes it sacred through its being offered to God. In Chapter 22 of Genesis, God appears before Abraham and commands him to sacrifice Isaac, his only son, and Abraham does so without objection. After building an altar upon which to sacrifice Isaac, God intervenes and stops Abraham from slaying his son. Knowing now that Abraham is a God-fearing man, because he has not “‘withheld [his] son, [his] only son,’” (Genesis 22-2), God rewards Abraham for obeying his commands. While the Bible does not explicitly state why Abraham follows God’s commands, presumably Abraham is willing to sacrifice Isaac because he trusts God and, at the same time, because he fears the consequences of breaking that trust. Earlier in Chapter 19, as Lot and his wife are fleeing Sodom and Gomor’rah, God warns them, “‘Do not look back or stop anywhere in the valley; flee to the hills, lest you be consumed’” (Genesis 19-17). While others follow God’s command, Lot’s wife looks back and God turns her into a pillar of salt. Abraham’s sacrifice, then, is a test of his personal devotion and trust in God. Where Abraham is rewarded for his faith, Lot’s wife is punished for breaking hers.
While one can make the case that Oedipus’ sacrifice at the end of Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex is also a personal sacrifice, his voluntary banishment from Thebes can be seen as a form of civic sacrifice. Civic sacrifice differs from religious sacrifice in that the individual is removed from the foreground and the community, the city, state or country, takes precedence. One commits civic sacrifice by giving up something, not to make it sacred or to offer it to a deity, but for the benefit of one’s community. The story of Oedipus begins with King Laius receiving a prophecy of his demise at the hands of an unborn son. Laius orders the execution of his newborn babe but a servant takes pity on the infant and leaves Laius’ son on a mountain top. The infant is rescued by a shepherd who names him Oedipus and he grows up in the royal court of Corinth. Destined to fulfill the oracle’s prophecy, Oedipus, the titular character of Sophocles’ tragedy, slays King Laius, saves Thebes – his native land – from the Sphinx, and has children with Queen Jocasta, his biological mother. When Thebes is struck by a plague, Oedipus summons the prophet Tiresias for help. It is then revealed, in an ironic twist, that Oedipus has indeed fulfilled the prophecy received long ago by his father, King Laius. In becoming the king of Thebes, he has committed patricide and incest with his mother. Upon hearing the truth, Jocasta hangs herself in the palace.
To escape the pain of seeing his parents in the underworld, Oedipus chooses to blind himself, “for, had I sight, I know not with what eyes/I could have met my father in the shades/or my poor mother’” (Sophocles 1417-1420). But, to save Thebes, Oedipus chooses exile over death. As the Chorus remarks, “I cannot say that thou has counseled well/for thou wert better dead than living blind” (1415-1416). Oedipus places his civic duty before his personal desires for, perhaps, it would have been easier for him as an individual to end his life in the face of such a shocking and tormenting discovery. As the king of Thebes, Oedipus places his city before himself, saying “O never let my Thebes/The city of my sires, be doomed to bear/the burden of my presence while I live” (1494-1496). The notion of civic sacrifice, as opposed to religious sacrifice, grounds itself in the idea of acting on behalf of a community. While Abraham is commanded by God to sacrifice his son and he does so as a reaffirmation of his own faith and belief in God, Oedipus exiles himself, not so that he, Oedipus, may be redeemed, but to spare Thebes from his fall.
Both notions of sacrifice also differ in what justification is provided for committing each action.
Inherent in the notion of religious sacrifice is the idea of personal faith. Each individual places complete trust in God. Even if one were to question a divine command, God provides justification through the validation of one’s faith, not reason. In Chapter 3 of Exodus, God appears to Moses in the form of a burning bush. During this exchange, Moses repeatedly questions God and seeks justification for God’s directives. God deems Moses to be the person who will “‘bring forth my people, the sons of Israel, out of Egypt’” (Exodus 3-10). Immediately, Moses asks God “‘Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh?’” (Exodus 3-11) Moses is reluctant to follow God’s orders because he does not trust in his own abilities, “‘Oh, my Lord, I am not eloquent…I am slow of speech and of tongue’” (Exodus 4-10) What if the Israelites will not believe that God spoke to him? In response, God gives Moses a rod that becomes a snake when cast upon the ground and the ability to turn water from the Nile into blood as signs that he has spoken with God. The only justification God provides as to why people should believe Moses when he tells them that has spoken with God are these signs that will inspire people’s faith. People will believe Moses not because he has convinced them with reason but because he is able turn a rod into a snake or water into blood, a power that must have come from God.
On the other hand, the notion of civic sacrifice centers on the use of reason. When one chooses to engage in civic sacrifice, one justifies the action by the benefit it brings to the community. “Pericles’ Funeral Oration” in the History of the Peloponnesian War by Thucydides epitomizes the notion of civic sacrifice. Unlike the case of religious sacrifice, the oration provides a different kind of propaganda to justify the Athenians’ civic sacrifice. Whereas God provides signs that establish faith in the individual, Pericles uses the glory of Athens to justify the soldiers’ sacrifices. The funeral oration is given at a ceremony honoring Athenian soldiers who have fallen in the war. During the speech, Pericles glorifies Athenian democracy as unique and extols the Athenian lifestyle; Athens is “a pattern to others than imitators ourselves” (Thucydides, par. 3) and is a city “worthy of admiration” (Thucydides, par. 6), a city of wealth, justice and generosity. Thus, Pericles paints a picture of the Athens “for which these men, in the assertion of their resolve to not lose her, nobly fought and died” (Thucydides, par. 7). Athens is a city like no other and in order to protect this city, as Oedipus protects Thebes, Athenian soldiers should sacrifice their lives.
Furthermore, whereas Moses’ encounter with God depicts the notion of the individual in religious sacrifice, the Athenian notion of civic sacrifice places strong emphasis on the individual acting on behalf and a part of a collective. Despite receiving the signs from God, Moses still begs God to choose someone else. His pleas anger God, who ultimately decides to send Aaron with Moses to speak to the Pharaoh. By following God’s command and leading the Israelites out of Egypt, Moses acts as an individual agent, leaving his life behind to carry out God’s orders. In fact, Moses’ very reluctance to do as God commands him to, as demonstrated by his persistent questioning and doubt, shows that he is acting as an individual. He finally capitulates and does as God tells him to because he has angered God. Unlike the Athenian soldiers who, presumably, fight for the sake of Athens, Moses is acting for himself. Through a personal devotion to God and fear of retribution if he disobeys God’s commands, he leads the Israelites out of Egypt. Indeed, perhaps Moses is acting for his people, but his exchange with God in Exodus seems to imply that he listens to God because it is his religious duty and not his duty as an Israelite.
However, for Pericles and the Athenians, there is no concept of the individual agent. Each person is a citizen of a city or a state, such as Athens, and acts as a member of that collective. Pericles goes on to say “there is justice in the claim that steadfastness in his country’s battles should be as a cloak to cover a man’s other imperfections” (Thucydides, par. 8). Not only should one act to benefit one’s country, but doing so is above any and all other actions. To engage in civic sacrifice, to place one’s country before oneself, is to obliterate one’s “demerits as an individual” (Thucydides, par. 8). Being a better citizen is more important, Pericles claims, than being a better individual. Ultimately, civic sacrifice originates from one’s obligation to a community. As much as Moses may be sacrificing his life for his fellow Israelites, the origins of his sacrifice are found in his faith in God. On the other hand, the Athenians are motivated to sacrifice for their country because they are its citizens. Therein lays the distinction between religious sacrifice and civic sacrifice.
The notion of religious sacrifice differs from the notion of civic sacrifice in that the former focuses on the individual’s relation to a higher power and the latter focuses on the individual as a member of a larger collective. Through the stories of the Hebrew Bible and the writings and plays of the Ancient Greeks, the differences between the two notions of sacrifice become apparent. In Biblical tales, men like Abraham or Moses are called upon by God and carry out God’s commands through their personal faith in God. In Ancient Greek literature, such as Oedipus Rex or “Pericles’ Funeral Oration”, the individual is acts in order to benefit a larger community, be it the city, state or country of which he is a part of. Neither the notion of religious sacrifice nor the notion of civic sacrifice continue to drive society’s contemporary understanding of sacrifice, but the effects both have had on our society is undoubtedly overwhelming.

Works Cited
Exodus. Bible, Revised Standard Version. National Council of Churches of Christ in America. Web. .
Genesis. Bible, Revised Standard Version. National Council of Churches of Christ in America. Web. .
Sophocles. “The Internet Classics Archive | Oedipus the King by Sophocles.” The Internet Classics Archive: 441 Searchable Works of Classical Literature. Trans. F. Storr. MIT. Web. .
“Thucydides – Pericles’ Funeral Oration.” Ancient / Classical History. Trans. Richard Crawley. Web. .

1. What does Socrates means here by the “nature” of piety, as opposed to “an affect or quality” of piety?
a. What Socrates means by the “nature” of piety is what piety is, or a definition of what piety is. For Socrates, a satisfactory definition of piety must be one that is necessary and sufficient and also explains what makes pious things pious. However, in the dialogue, Euthyphro is only able Socrates affects or qualities of piety, which are examples or parts of piety that do not satisfy all of Socrates’ conditions for a good definition.
2. Why does Socrates think that Euthyphro must know the nature of piety, if he is to know that a particular act is pious?
a. In order to truly know something, that this action or that action is pious, Socrates thinks that one must first know what the nature or definition of that particular thing is. We need a general definition of piety, that can be used in any instance to determine whether an action or not is pious. Knowing anything less, or only examples, cannot tell Euthphryo is his actions are pious or not.
3. What is the reasoning behind this claim?
a. Theory of recollection says that learning is an act of recollecting or remembering what our souls knew already (shown in the Meno by the slave boy remembering geometry). True knowledge, though, is different from true belief. True belief is “tied down” and made into knowledge by knowledge of the Forms. We are able to remember what the Forms are by seeing instances of the Forms. The Forms are never changing and immutable whereas objects that we perceive with the senses change and vary from person to person. True knowledge then
b. The Theory of Forms is able to satisfy Socrates’ demanding definitions for what true knowledge is. Socrates asks Euthyphro for a definition of piety that is necessary and sufficient to explain what piety is and also has to explain what makes pious things pious. The Form Piety satisfies all three criteria. The Form of Piety is both necessary and sufficient to make things pious and it also explains why pious things are pious.
c. Socrates thinks that true knowledge, in the Meno, is immutable, does not walk around like statues but are grounded in unchanging things, such as the Forms
4. Is this reasoning sound?
a. Where did we get knowledge of the Forms if the Forms existed before the objects we see now that reminds us of the Forms?
b. Does it have to be the Forms that provide a good definition for Socrates’ ‘what if’ problems?
c. Why do the Forms exist before the actual objects? Shouldn’t it be that the Forms arise from seeing objects, not that they make the objects what they are?
5. Could one consistently accept Socrates’ views in the Euthyphro without acting his claims in the Phaedo?

1. Why is true knowledge supposed to be knowledge of the Forms?
a. What is true knowledge?
i. Something that ties down true belief, something immutable and unchanging, something that provides necessary and sufficient conditions, explains why this thing is this thing, something that is the one form of the things that makes it what it is and gives an account of the reasons why it is what it is
b. Why is true knowledge knowledge of the Forms?
i. The Forms are immutable and unchanging, unobservable and insensible but constitute reality, things are made what it is by its Form, ties down true belief to immutable and unchanging things, gives an account of the reasons why something is what it is
c. How does Socrates argue for it?
i. Using the Theory of Recollection, Socrates argues that true knowledge is knowledge of the Forms. When we see two equal things, we can recollect the idea of the Form Equal because the two equal things are not perfectly equal and from their imperfection we recollect something, the Equal, which is always perfect which means that it existed before in our minds. Knowledge of the Forms is true knowledge because without an account of the reasons why, we only have true beliefs that are not tied down to anything. They are mutable, just as the objects we perceive that are inferior to the Forms. The Forms are also what makes something what it is, what makes a beautiful thing beautiful. A beautiful thing is beautiful for no other reason than sharing in the Beautiful.

When and where does something stop being beautiful and become ugly if Forms never admit its opposite?

golem token 3/3 first strike
white soldier token 1/1
green wolf token 2/2
black wolf tocken 1/1 deathtouch
white spirit token 1/1 flying
germ token 0/0
3x Overrun – 1x from Stewart
1x sunpetal grove
1x Garruk, the Primal Hunter – ordered
3x Avacyrn’s Pilgrim – Jenny

What is a self? What is despair?

But, as K writes, a human being merely considered as this synthesis is not yet a self. According to K, a self is the relation’s relating itself to itself in further relation to a high power, God. What does that mean? A human being is the synthesis of the infinite and finite, the temporal and eternal, the possibility and necessity – these are the conflicting aspects in the self-relation. We, as human beings, are all confronted by the task of reconciling or synthesizing these aspects of ourselves and we become selves by virtue of working, struggling, striving towards the synthesis of these conflicting aspects. These aspects are not synthesized or reconciled automatically for us, which also means that we do not, by default, have selves. We only have selves by virtue of engaging in the activity of working upon ourselves in trying to synthesize and reconcile these conflicting aspects of ourselves. Moreover, when we work upon ourselves in this way, in trying to perform this synthesis, K makes the claim that we are brought into contact with a higher power, a third element in the relation, that actually established this relation. According to K, that higher power is God.

In “…”, K provides an analysis of it what it means to carry out this synthesis correctly and to perform our self-relating in the right way. He also presents an analysis of what happens when we fail to conduct this synthesis properly and fall short of performing our self-relating. K calls our failure to reach perform the self-relation properly despair. Despair is a “misrelation…quote”. We are in despair when we fail to synthesis or reconcile the conflicting pairs of oppositions in us, when we fail to reconcile the infinite and finite aspects of ourselves, the eternal and temporal aspects of ourselves, the possibility and necessity aspects of ourselves. K believes that all of us, whether we know it or not, are in despair. The word ‘despair’ is used by K in a different sense than it is used normally. He distinguishes his usage of ‘despair’ from the common understanding of ‘despair’ as “quote about dizziness”.

The common view is that you yourself know best whether or not you are in despair. K thinks this is incorrect and draws an analogy between the common views of despair to that of views on sickness. No one would say that a man knows the state of his own health best. In fact, perhaps it is better to say that a man is least aware of the state of his health. Doctors, in fact, can better tell when a man is sick than the man himself. Similarly, K believes that the common view, the view that each person knows better about his particular despair, is incorrect. Whereas the doctor has a refined understanding and concept of sickness, the average man does. If it were in fact the case that each man knows best about his own health, then, as K puts it, it would delusion to be a doctor. K goes on to say the situation is similar for a “physician of the soul to despair.” The physician of the soul knows the symptoms of despair and is able to spot it so he will not trust the word of either the man who claims to be in despair or the man who claims not to be in despair in the common sense. Thus, the common view of despair, that everyone knows best when he is or is not in despair, is completely wrong according to K. Moreover, K claims that those who admit they are in despair are actually closer to understanding and to be cured of despair than the person who does not seem to be aware of his despair and is happy and well adjusted.

Despair, as mentioned earlier, is the when we fail to perform the self-relation, the synthesis of the conflicting aspects of ourselves, correctly. In order words, when we fail to reconcile the infinite or finite aspects of ourselves we are in despair and this extends to the other two conflicting aspects K points out.

What is possibility?

Possibility and necessity is one of the three pairs of conflicting oppositions, along with infinitude and finitude, eternal and temporal, that K believes are aspects that we have to synthesize and reconcile in our struggle to become selves. They reflect two different perspectives of the self. Possibility, on the one hand, represents the self’s aspirations, what is possible for the self to become, while necessity represents the self’s concreteness, what the self actually is. Possibility is the self that we are trying to be and necessity is the self that we actually are.

Possibility represents the self that we are trying to become and we understand ourselves in terms of that possibility by virtue of the fact that we are working towards it. Possibility is the self that we are reaching for. For example, I can identity one of my possibilities as that of being a hardworking student. In going through my daily life, I can try to become and working towards being a hardworking student. As K writes, possibility is the self’s task of becoming itself. I understand myself as this possibility, the hardworking student, by trying to become exactly that, a hardworking student. My possibility lies in my trying to become a hardworking student. I am saying, I could be a hardworking student and possibility arises when I start actively working towards being that hardworking student by doing my assigned readings, paying attention in class, studying for my exams and so on. It is the self that we are trying to become and we have possibility insofar as we are working to achieve these possibilities. They are the self’s aspirations in that, more than merely possible, they are possibilities we understand ourselves to be in our trying to be them.

What is necessity?

Necessity is another identity that each of us has and another way to understand who we are. Whereas possibility presents the self that we aspire to be insofar as we striving towards that self, necessity represent the self that we concretely are. It is the self that we find upon honest introspection, when we step back to look at ourselves and see the self that we concretely are. Even if I understand my possibility to be that of a hardworking student, in a moment of somber reflection, I might find that my actions and behaviors are not those of a hardworking student. In fact, I might find that I have fallen short of being the self I am trying to be. While I might believe I am striving to become a hardworking student, I find that there is a different person I am trying to become.

Thus, K illustrates two different ways we understand ourselves. On one hand, there is the self that we each believe ourselves to be, possibility, and there is the different self that each of us actually are when we look back upon ourselves through reflection, necessity. Possibility and necessity are both aspects of the self and in our striving to become selves, we need to synthesize and reconcile these two conflicting oppositions. However, K believes that it is difficult for each of us to see both aspects of ourselves, to see ourselves as having both possibility and necessity. As he illustrates in his discussion of the types of despair we enter into when we fail to synthesize these two aspects properly, K believes that we tend to only see the self’s possibility or only see the self’s necessity. For example, if I understand myself in terms of possibility as a hardworking student, it might be difficult for me to take a step back and see my necessity through reflection and realize that my actions are striving towards a different self. Or, if I understand myself as necessity as the self that I actually am which might not be a hardworking student, it might be difficult for me to strive towards the possibility of being a hardworking student. According to K, in both of these situations, because of my failure to synthesize the aspects of possibility and necessity in myself, I am in despair.

According to K, the despair of possibility is the lack of necessity. When we understand ourselves in terms of possibility, we strive to become the self that think we are. There are an infinite number of possibilities for each of us and to lack necessity is to lack the limitation of the self that we actually are. Someone who loses necessity is caught up in daydreams and fantasies of the self that he is able to become but is not able to actually become anything. “Everything seems possible…” To become engulfed by possibility is to lose sight of the limitations of our life, “ability to obey.” Without necessity, we become lost in possibility because everything seems possible. The possibility of the self, according to K, is, at best, only a “half-truth…”

Despair of necessity, on the other hand, is the lack of possibility. Without possibility, we are struck by the limitations we’ve persuaded or let ourselves be persuaded exist for us. To have only necessity but no possibility is also to be in despair according to K. Necessity represents the self that we are when take a step back from possibility and reflect on what we actually are. Without possibility, one believes one’s life is fixed, you are just what you are. You no longer see yourself as the person you aspire to be. To have only necessity is like to have given up on aspiring to be something, you’re just what you are and nothing else. The only way out of despair by lack of possibility is to gain possibility. When you are confronted with only necessity, your only salvation is to regain possibility. For someone without possibility entirely, the only way to do so is through God for which everything is possible. God is infinite possibility. For the determinist or the fatalist, everything is necessary so he needs God to reintroduce the concept of possibility. If there is only necessity, according to K, the man is the same as the animal. To be able to pray to God reintroduces possibility.

Evaluating K’s claims, some questions raised
What is K’s evidence for all this? He makes this diagnosis and these claims and ultimately that we can only resolve these contradictions through Faith? What justification? Is there anything like argument?

Are they really present in myself?

WE understand ourselves as being the person we are trying to become, we have a kind of ambition for ourselves and a sense of the person we are trying to be and all of the particular things that we do, from this point of view, efforts to be that person. So we can think of ourselves as a fine student or loyal friend, things that like that are ways to identify yourself with possibility. You are projecting towards these possibilities and you are understanding yourself in terms of them. To understand yourself as a loyal friend insofar as you are trying to be a loyal friend. So your possibilities are the identity that you are reaching ahead towards. You think of yourself as the person who is a loyal friend by virtue of trying to be a loyal friend.

Another identity that each of us has, to understand who we were from a different perspective. Your necessity is the way you find yourself to be when you turn around and look at yourself and find that what you concretely have been, the way in which you may understand yourself as a loyal friend by virtue of your effort to be a loyal friend. In a somber moment, you may look back at your behavior and you may discover that in fact you are not a loyal friend and there are all sorts of ways you might have fallen short of being this person you are trying to be.

A difference between two different ways you understand yourself and get your identity. Projectively by believing ourselves to be who we are privately and you get your identity from these moments of looking back at yourself and you find that there is a different person you are trying to become. Are we ever that frank with ourselves? There may be difficulties but it is something that we all seem to do. K’s idea is that they are both aspects of ourselves, difficult to see yourself in both of them and reconcile yourself in both of them and because it is difficult to reconcile that we tend to go in one direction or the other. He makes the point that it is difficult to reflect and see this other side of who you are and this other identity that you have. Possibility transcends who you concretely are but the point is that this a way in which we really do identity ourselves and maybe even more important in our self understanding than other aspects, the optimistic view of yourself.

Despair of possibility – someone who loses themselves in daydreams, fantasies, in the person that he is able to become.

The opposite way of despair as well. You as a synthesis, if you are conscious and can recognize the difficulty of being both, of reconciling your aspirations with your concreteness and K’s diagnosis is the tendency to throw ourselves in one direction or the other. He’s maybe think we do this in a global way but we can think of someone who does this on a case by case basis. Despair of necessity is what we all ordinarily most tink of as despair the frame of mind in which you are struck by your limitations and persuade yourself and let yourself be persuaded to thinkt hat you can’t do anything about these limiations, you are stuck and your life is stuck and you can only be just this. You fall into the despair of necessity when you see that you cannot be your possibilities, you are deteremined to be just this. You can only win back possibility through God. For God everything possible.

What is K’s evidence for all this? He makes this diagnosis and these claims and ultimately that we can only resolve these contradictions through Faith? What justification? Is there anything like argument?

Jesus Jeff, every time you send me a response, it’s like a personal lecture on how to run a club. So, I’m gonna jump right in today:
Given what you said, about trusting my treasurer and having someone who can call me out, I think I’m gonna give Jenny the treasurer position. We’ve talked a little already about the club and I think that she’s capable. Jenny has also already dealt with financing at least the Magic side of things, she’s good with numbers and she’s usually pretty honest with me about getting my shit together.
It’s kind of disappointing that so many good e-board candidates have graduated already or are on leave or are not interested in being on the e-board. I really wanted to have Schnapps be a part of the club because he’s always been completely dedicated to Magic and would do the same for PLAY. But, no such luck. Also, Random question: non-NYU or NYU grads can attend meetings right? Say I want to do a tournament and have it be open to anyone who is interested, can my friends from Baruch or someone I met at 20 Sided at a store Friday Night Magic attend? Does it have to be in a specific venue for it to be open to anyone?
I think I have a good idea of what responsibilities I want to give to people. And by that, I mean I’m gonna paste what you wrote to me into the word document and show it to my e-board members. I also want to keep my e-board small by giving two roles to myself and Jenny and possibly Raf. I’m gonna reserve the VP as the jack of trades backup. At most, I want to assign some minor duties to people who can dedicate time but not enough to the club to warrant a board position. It’s just gonna be four, maybe five, members of the e-board and maybe three other people. PLAY is pretty laid back and tends to function fine on its own. Does that sound plausible? Do I have too few people?
I’m really counting on people to at least show up for our events because I have a million ideas running around. I’m pretty sure that happens to every president and at some point, hopefully soon, I’m gonna realize I have the budget to do 1% of my fantastic dreams. A lot of people like to play and hang out but I’m not sure who’s going to step up. The weird thing is, I did ask Mike why I ended up being a candidate at all and it’s mostly because I showed up. That said, the regular membership attendance of PLAY on Wednesdays is like half a dozen people. Steven shows initiative and keeps things moving and I’ve never really seen anyone else step up. With Magic merging, I’m expecting at least a dozen new “regulars”. I hope I can count on some people.
Also kind of worried about the budget thing, still. I didn’t really expect to get the full budget increase but any kind of increase can add up over the years and I really wish people applied for more budget. If anything, they could have just purchased more board games. I did talk to Mike a little bit about getting Magic cards as a part of the budget. How much trouble am I going to encounter if I try to apply my budget to Magic product? Am I going to be barred completely from buying anything? Worst case scenario is exactly what you described. In any case, I don’t even think we have enough budget it as it to cover all the produce so we’re going to have to subsidize the purchases ourselves.
I’m also concerned about the limitations on prizes. We’re a games club, people play to win and people want to win prizes. I mean, sure, for minor events a pack or two could work out but if I hold a big tournament, I’m not sure how much incentive I can offer members or other people to come play. What kind of trouble am I going to run into? Like, holy cow I’ll get exiled from the All-Square system or I’m just not going to get it reimbursed? Can we appeal to the board or officials for a change in their decision? Are there things, like increased membership and increased interest that we can offer to the board to persuade them? Magic product is at least vital to the Magic half of PLAY but why do I feel like I have to change the club’s fundamental constitution to make the case that Magic cards are vital.
Like I said before, I have ideas for events but I need to make sure PLAY can host everything. The minimum is three and I’m pretty we won’t have issue meeting that requirement. But, how many events should I aim for per semester? How many is way too many? I don’t really know how my schedule or anyone else’s schedule really functions but I don’t want to, even though I do, cram everything into a couple months. I know clubs tend to have semester finale events, but how many other distinct events (as in not general meetings) should I be trying to host?
I want a site. Based on what you said, I want a site. I’ve made some sites and blogs but I’m gonna let Raf double up on web admin duties and maybe just see to getting the site off the ground myself in the beginning. Did anime club host its own site or on the NYU system? I’m still not sure how to edit PLAY’s NYU site. The school official I emailed for access to the listserve and site has not gotten back to me. I really do want to get the site and the listserve and email up and running before school starts so I can, as you mentioned, get the incoming freshman (because I totally hit up the anime club site back in high school) and get some help ready for club fest. Who did the site for anime club? Maybe I can talk to them? Or, was it Raf?
Also, I was thinking about getting people to speak or do panels or events. How much does it cost to get a guest? Does it come out of your total budget? Do we get to pick how much we pay each speaker, if we pay the speakers at all?
And for Clubfest, any general advice on how to attract more people? You have already mentioned giving out candy but just generally, what appeals to people? Or, stands out in the crowd? I guess that’s really personal preference and whether or not someone cares about games, but I want…something flashy. Is that even recommended at all? Am I trying too hard? Also, I do want to get in touch with anime club and maybe set up near them. Is Fei still president?
I do like that elite ranks thing. You make sending out emails look so easy. I feel like I’m going to be the most awkward person to write emails. I need to brush up on those people skillz. Damn.
In terms of room reserve, how far in advance do I have to reserve the rooms? And, who should I really get buddy buddy with in terms of the building staff? Who is the magical lady that can turn other people’s rooms into our rooms?! The rooms you listed, how hard is it to get those rooms through out the year? Are there certain times that are just ridiculously hard to get rooms? Which rooms, for say at most 30 people, is the easiest to consistently book? Also, can we book the lounge on the 7th floor where PLAY normally tends to meet? I think that space is like the commuter lounge but it would be cool to reserve. I’m sad we can’t book the commuter lounge. I thought that it was up for grabs but I guess only for the commuter staff people. At this point, I’m gonna try to get information from Steven about the rooms, grab a semi-large room for the first meeting and see how that goes from there? If I want to hold weekly meetings, should I reserve the same room weekly way in advance or as the weeks go by? What is the best way? Also, how popular are the gaming consoles, etc?
And one more thing: what is the difference between budget and programs? You keep saying we submit programs? How much can these programs deviate from the budget? Am I completely misunderstanding what a program is? Also, how tightly do I or the treasurer have to watch the finances? What are the consequences of losing track, besides not being reimbursed?

My pool of questions is slowly depleting! Or, er, maybe not. I keep getting more questions the more you tell me about things. You are an excellent professor Jeff. Your information and advice will be passed on through the generations of PLAY e-board members. I am honored to have been your student. XDD

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Chartis

Let’s play the numbers game again.

Today, I lost connectivity
To the different parts of me that I need to be me
The facebook notifications, the twitter tweets
The tumblr stumbleupons and the last last.fm song
That I’ll ever hear on Pandora.

Me: Hi, your statement has the incorrect values.
Person: So does that mean I need to fix this?
(Fuck all you hoes) Get a grip motherfucker.
Okay, so let’s start this off really fucking slow
Let me tell a couple things you might need to know

Hi, your statement has incorrect values.
So does that mean I need to fix this?

Last September, I was invited to visit an actual shoe heaven

Tits and bras, ménage a trois, sex in expensive cars

There is a chicken in your hallway
Stricken by some fowl disease
Last night, it ran in circles
Trident footprints tied in knots
Around the dirt mounds in your backyard
Croaking at an unseen death to leave
Somebody’s gotta die nobody got to know
Stolen from your grandmother’s garden
Talon-like nails sharpened on stone
Blood for ink written on laundered linen

Make it longer, write more, get more of my deep love for staplers, zoom out and back in
More images, more sounds to describe stapling, godlike fetish love for staplers, MORE
Ode to “you”, talk to the office stapler like a “you”
All office staplers – the one, you
Taking away – traumatizing loss of stapler
Ode to “an” or “my”

In high school I baked oatmeal raisin cookies
for my American history teacher Mr. Kennedy,
George Kennedy, the man is a god. No, seriously.
If not some a regular kind of god, then some kind of
East Meets West New Age Fusion kind of God. The kind of
Thing that fanatic Japanese cult followers believer in –
Anyway, the point is that I baked oatmeal raisin cookies for a god.
But here’s the other thing: I fucking hate these cookies.
Like, seriously.

Scarlet crusader of organizational justice

A Not Ode to Oatmeal Raisin Cookies

Oatmeal raisin cookies are just fucking terrible.
I mean, I just – how can – like, who in their right mind
would want damn raisins and oatmeal in their cookie?
I mean, cookie dough – serious fucking cookie dough – is
a sugary, luscious, succulent, dense, velvet,
mouth taste bud tongue orgasm of cosmic proportions
exploding in my sweet-toothed, possibly, non-existent ghost.
And don’t even get me started on the chocolate chips.
You know how, like, in that movie with bowling lanes
and a lot of screaming about drinking
milkshakes and the guy who goes around drilling for oil?
That’s what chocolate chips are like in a cookie,
like finding oil in the middle of a brown sugar dessert
and you bite into that gooey, oozing, melting cacao essence
and you feel like you, like, just won thirty lotteries – in a row.
But fucking oatmeal raisin cookies hurt my soul.
You get these chunks of fruity weirdness, wet but dried
things shriveled up like little old ladies in frocks walking around
with walkers. And the oats, a constant interruption
Of fucking oats stuck in my teeth and the corners of my mouth
That my tongue can’t ever reach. Oats are like disruptive children
they malign the perfect harmony of the winds and the waters,
that feng shui stuff that guides the careful dissemination
of ingredients across all cookie dough ever made,
across the vast expanse of uncharted, unmixed batter and butter
still lying in your fridge. Yeah, oatmeal raisin cookies ruin,
just simply fucking ruin, all that.

Oatmeal Raisin Tirade

Oatmeal raisin cookies are just fucking terrible.
I mean, I just – how can – like, who in their right mind
would want damn raisins and oatmeal in their cookie?
I mean, cookie dough – serious fucking cookie dough – is
a sugary, luscious, succulent, dense, velvet,
mouth taste bud tongue orgasm of cosmic proportions
exploding in my sweet-toothed, possibly non-existent ghost.
And don’t even get me started on the chocolate chips.
You know how, like, in that movie with bowling lanes
and a lot of screaming about drinking
milkshakes and the guy who goes around drilling for oil?
That’s what chocolate chips are like in a cookie,
like finding oil in the middle of a brown sugar dessert
and you bite into that gooey, oozing, melting cacao essence
and you feel like you, like, just won thirty lotteries – in a row.
But fucking oatmeal raisin cookies hurt my soul.
You get these chunks of fruity weirdness, wet but dried
things shriveled up like little old ladies in frocks walking around
with walkers. And the oats, a constant interruption
Of fucking oats stuck in my teeth and the corners of my mouth
That my tongue can’t ever reach. Oats are like disruptive children.
They malign the perfect harmony of the winds and the waters,
that feng shui stuff that guides the careful dissemination
of ingredients across all cookie dough ever made,
across the vast expanse of uncharted, unmixed batter and butter
still lying in your fridge. Yeah, oatmeal raisin cookies ruin,
just simply fucking ruin, all that.

1. Me
a. Individual identity
i. Chinese, Chinese American
ii. Female
iii. Raised by grandparents, single mother, absent father, replacement father figure
iv. Single child
v. Immigrant
vi. First generation with computers and technological innovation
b. Educational experiences
i. Went to public elementary school in Hell’s Kitchen (P.S. #?)
ii. Went to public elementary school in Queens (P.S. 66)
iii. Went to public elementary school in Upper East Side (P.S. 59)
iv. Went to public middle school in Chelsea (Lab)
v. Went to public high school (Stuyvesant)
vi. Went to private university (New York University)
c. Occupation trajectories
i. Mother’s influence and education
ii. Father’s influence and education
2. Dalton Conley
a. Individual identity
i. Male
ii. Raised by two parents
iii. Had sister
iv. Grew up in the 60s-70s? Urban renewal
b. Educational experiences
i. Went to public elementary school in his neighborhood (P.S. 4)
1. The Mini School
a. Three classes, black, Puerto Rican and Chinese
b. Treated differently because he is white and didn’t receive punishment
2. Learned about race here
ii. Went to public elementary school in Greenwich Village (P.S. 41)
1. Lied about his address because his parents had friends who lived in a better neighborhood because of where his parents came from, social capital (parents matter)
2. Lyndon Johnson’s Great Society made it so that the good neighborhood schools didn’t care about the ghetto kids lying since they brought funds to the schools. Local schools lost out. (Laws matter, Berger and social control)
3. The Donuts – the schoolyard is a microcosm of the larger world where donuts and freebies win out in favor of honesty and promises.
4. Class –
iii. Went to public middle school (I.S. 70)
1.
iv. Went to public high school (Bronx Science)
v. Went to public high school (Stuyvesant High School)
c. Occupation trajectories
3. I moved to America when I seven. I had been taking English lessons for nearly half a year but it never crossed my mind that my mother planned to bring our entire family overseas. I got on a domestic flight from Harbin to Shanghai with my grandmother in the fall of 1999, leaving behind my father, my best friends at the time and a small orange teddy bear. As my father tells it, I wept rivers in the back of the taxi as it pulled away from our fourth floor apartment with the red leather couches, the frosted glass pane doors and the morning glories my deceased grandfather had so meticulously cultivated. In Shanghai, we boarded an international flight to New York. I spent most of the flight watching Will Smith in “Wild Wild West” and sleeping.
4. I tried really hard to have friends in middle school. I had friends in elementary school but I bounced between schools so frequently, it was difficult to keep in touch with old friends and even more difficult to make new ones halfway through the school year. Middle school was yet another place to start over from but this time, my family having secured an apartment in the Upper East Side, I was deter
5. My Chinese name, as displayed in alphabetized pinyin, “___”, appears genderless to the average American. My mother also liked cropping my thick hair so short that in t-shirt and jeans, I looked like a boy. As a kid, I found neither of these two things, taken separately or together, to be especially troubling aspects of my gender identity.
(Gender) My middle school years also brought about a new sense of identity that was previously unknown to me: I was suddenly no longer the only smart kid in my class at Lab. In fact, classes at Lab were predominantly populated by Asian, mostly Chinese, students from P.S. 124, the same elementary school Conley’s sister attended. Whereas Conley, having grown up white in a predominantly Hispanic and black neighborhood, had “started getting the message [about race] as early as age two” (Conley 37), I only became aware of race in seventh grade. My mother, who had finally settled in a good neighbor and sent me off to a good school, was still not quite content with the quality of education I was receiving even at Lab. I was sent off to weekend preparatory classes in Flushing, the burgeoning Chinese community in Queens based on the recommendation of a coworker. Soon after I started my weekend classes, I realized my mother’s excessive and almost fanatical dedication to my education was just another hallmark of growing up as a Chinese American and not seemingly unique to my childhood. Many of my Chinese classmates at Lab also attended the same prep course in Flushing.
After middle school, my location in the New York City public school system again converged with Conley’s. Even though we both finish our public education careers with Stuyvesant High School diplomas, the paths we took to the most selective of the city’s three specialized high schools were radically different. Stuyvesant High School was my mother’s first and only choice. She added summer classes to my usual weekend classes and brought me more test books than I ever needed. While Conley and his friends spent their middle school days evading their parents, forging signatures on report cards and playing for the highest video game scores, my friends and I spent ours vying for the highest marks on practice Stuyvesant entrance exam in over air-conditioned classrooms at Mega Academy. The day I received me Stuyvesant acceptance letter in the mail, my phone rang constantly as my friends and I congratulated each other on the good news. I scored nearly 30 points above the highest score cutoff and was safely guaranteed admission to Stuyvesant High School. On the other hand, Conley, who had initially missed the Stuyvesant score cutoff on the exam by one point, was later admitted to Stuyvesant after taking a remedial summer class because he came from a low-income neighborhood. While I got into Stuyvesant precisely because my mother had, even in America, managed to support my weekend and summer prep courses for the exam, Conley was admitted because his parents could not.
My mother’s class position and the decisions she was able to because of that position, even more so than her singular dedication to her belief in education as the source of better life outcomes, served as the biggest distinguishing factor between my life-course trajectories and identity and that of Dalton Conley’s. I believe Peter Berger’s presentation of social stratification best explicates this initial difference in our lives and other divergences in our life trajectories and educational experiences.
Berger defines social stratification as levels in society “that relate to each other in terms of superordination and subordination be it power, privilege or prestige” (Berger 78). While he notes that different societies assign individuals to different levels within the system based on different criteria, Berger also states “the most important type of stratification in contemporary Western society is the class system” (Berger 79). He then borrows Weber’s aforementioned definition of class in terms of life chances to make the case that “each class milieu forms the personality of its constituency by innumerable influences beginning at birth” and that “in trying to understand the weight of class, then, we are not only looking at another aspect of social control but are beginning to catch a glimpse of the way in which society penetrates the insides of our consciousness” (Berger 82).

My mother’s decision to America predetermined many of my life chances and in this way, I am no different from Conley whose parents gave him a distinct set of life chances by choosing to life in the projects. However, my mother’s stable income and occupation as a scientific researcher placed her in a different class than that of Conley’s parents. My mother’sConley grew up in a tough neighborhood where his mother constantly feared for her family’s safety. I, on the other hand, grew up in a safer and more affluent neighborhood thanks to my mother’s relative economic wealth. Due to lack of their economic means
While Conley’s parents struggled to place in him a better educational environment by exploiting loopholes in the public education system, my mother, was able to literally acquire a new address and grant me access to a significantly higher level of education. Moreover, not only did my mother shift my life-course trajectories by moving to a safer, more affluent neighborhood so I could attend Lab Middle School, but her choice of schools helped crystalize my identity. At Lab, I formed social affiliations with other Asian American kids who were raised on the same virtues of education by immigrant parents largely in the same economic class as my mother. These affiliations helped reinforce the identity as a hardworking student because we, as Berger notes, desired “just that which society expects of us” (Berger 93).
6.
In Cartesian Meditations, Husserl introduces the “phenomenological epoche” as a method of philosophical reflection. He distinguishes the phenomenological epoche from our natural attitude towards the existence of the world. Through the phenomenological epoche, we set aside our questions about the existence of world and, instead, focus only on our experience of the world.
In the “natural and non-reflective” attitude we typically occupy on a day-to-day basis, we take the fact that the world exists independently of ourselves for granted. Husserl posits that all of our “processes of meaning” in this natural attitude such as our judgments or valuations presuppose the belief in the existence of the world. However, since we do not have apodictically certain knowledge, knowledge that is beyond all doubt, of the world’s existence through our experiences, we must remove the presupposition of its existence we hold in our natural attitude.
We do so by adopting the transcendental, “philosophically reflective” attitude Husserl calls the phenomenological epoche. We suspend our natural belief of the world’s existence and take our experience of the world to be merely acceptance phenomenon. The world is what we experience as being there, “anything belonging to the world, any spatiotemporal being, exists for me – that is to say, accepted by me – in that I experience it” (21).
In this passage, Husserl points out that, while we abstain from our taken-for-granted belief in the world when we assume the position of phenomenological epoche, it does not mean our experience in the natural attitude ceases or disappears. In adopting the phenomenological epoche, we become observers of our continued experience of the world in the natural attitude but without our confidence in the world’s existence. We hold the world experienced in the natural attitude to be “‘mere phenomenon’”. By adopting the phenomenological epoche,
When we assume the position of the phenomenological epoche, we step back from the first person perspective of our natural attitude to assume a third person perspective. We act as observers in this third person perspective of our first person perspective experiences. We set aside any presuppositions of the existence of the objective world and we, instead, accept the world as being there. We abstain from taking an positions with regard to whether the world truly exists or not and in doing so we become observers of what goes on it.
However, as Husserl points out in this passage, by assuming the position of the phenomenological epoche we are not positing that our worldly experiences disappear. Instead,
the only change that occurs in adopting the transcendental attitude is that we “no longer keep in effect (no longer accept)

My experience of the truck while crossing the street serves as an experience in the transcendental attitude, regardless of whether or not the truck exists.
The transcendental attitude provides a different perspective on our belief in the existence of the world. Instead,

in the small quiet moment before he touches her
she is afraid
nerves prick her flesh like needles
the legs of a thousand millipedes crawling up her spine
sinister, insectile, alien
the way he trails his fingers up her body
skin barely touching skin
as if he is groping some raw nakedness
beyond her epithelial carapace
in the small quiet moment before he touches her
warm blood pours into cold silence
she wants to run
there is more, she wants to tell him
much more but
she never makes it there in time
her gasping pants like ghosts escaping through the ether
was there ever anything so sad?

There are tons of things she wanted to say to him before he left. But she never made it there in time. Was there ever anything so sad?

Her gasping pants, each breath of air bit her lungs like sand, as her sneakers splashing in pools of dark water by sidewalk gutters as she pummels ahead through the night. Across the bridge and over the murky canals, her footsteps stalking a dead town.

Theories and Concepts

Social capital
Cultural Capital
Concerted Cultivation
Accomplishment of Natural Growth
Presentation of Self
Status Attainment
Social Location
Class situation
Academically Adrift
Accordion Family

Richard Arum and Josipa Roksa’s study, “Academically Adrift: Limited Learning on College Campuses,” uses powerful statistics gathered from undergraduate at two dozen college and universities across the United States to show that a student’s college experience is shaped, firstly, by what each student brings to college through their own “social background, high school context and, academic preparation” (61) and secondly, by the “distinct peer cultures and institutional climates” (61) each student encounters at colleges and universities. Arum and Roksa’s findings reveal that higher education – far from being society’s “great equalizer” as Horace Mann once purported it to be – actually preserves “initially inequalities” between advantaged and disadvantaged students and those inequalities, “in the case of African-American students, are exacerbated” (Arum and Roksa 40).

Unfortunately, I would not have received such information from public school college counselors for students like Jayden and even Samantha. While colleges and universities send admissions officers across the country to form working relationships with high school college counselors, Stevens observes that the entire process is an “elite exercise” (2007:85). Officers will certainly travel to renowned private schools like Exeter but not necessarily to public schools in urban neighborhoods like Jayden’s school. Students like Jayden do not get the chance to meet with college admissions officers or receive information about colleges’ requirements and programs. Thus, the established relationship between colleges and prominent high schools in the country already provides Bryn with more resources than his peers. (Use this about how Jayden might not be prepared for College??)

Given these things about Bryn, if he were admitted, I believe Bryn would be academically adrift in college. He would probably go and live at home after college, float through a whole bunch of jobs and his parents would be okay with it because they’d have the means of supporting him and they want to encourage him to find something he likes to do and so on. Academically adrift boomerang child.
Bryn also has greater access to social capital because he attends Exeter. Bryn is able to use his relationships with classmates at Exeter to bolster his application. For example, he participates in a volunteer reconstruction project in Haiti because he has a personal relationship with the relief mission’s organizer – his girlfriend and fellow “Exonian.” This reflects the social capital that Bryn receives by attending Exeter, social capital Jayden and Samantha do not necessarily have.

His application is compliment by neither social capital nor cultural capital. Unlike Bryn whose alumnus father might become a potential donor, Jayden will most likely require financial aid to pay for his tuition given his socioeconomic background. Jayden gains from his parents and high school and his interaction with the Redwood admissions office during the application process not have the same resources available to Bryn, I am only able to construct Jayden’s narrative based on the few pieces of information in his file. Stevens notes, “By the time upper-middle-class seventeen-year-olds sit down to write their applications, most of the race to the colleges has already been run and they already enjoy comfortable leads” (2007:15).

This level of faculty interaction is rarely seen in his working-class peers like Jayden, who are less likely to engage their professors because of their sense of restraint in institutional settings (Arum). Students with highly educated parents, like Bryn whose father is a college graduate, are more likely to “have positive assessments of their professors” than students with less educated parents, like Jadyen whose mother might not have attended college.

Like students surveyed by Arum and Roksa, Bryn will most likely spend, on average, no more than “12 hours per week studying” and completing homework for his courses (69). In an effort to minimize academic work, Bryn will also most likely aim to take courses which his peers recommend as “easy” because those courses have fewer reading or writing requirements. Fifty percent of Arum and Roksa’s student sample do the same when choosing courses (71).

Ironically, Redwood’s institutional context might also help to promote Bryn’s status as an academically adrift student. As Arum and Roksa briefly note in Chapter 3 of their study, many elite colleges and universities systematically inflate grades (77).

Lynne A. Haney, in her ethnography, “Offending Women: Power, Punishment and the Regulation of Desire,” depicts Visions, a community-based therapeutic prison, as an unsuccessful system that tried to rid young incarcerated mothers of their internal “dangerous desires” (Haney 2010:4) but ultimately denied prisoners “education and job training” (Haney 2010:190) needed to support themselves after release.
If Bryn were to be accepted at Redwood, he would bring with him nearly two decades’ worth of concerted cultivation which has more than prepared him to approach and negotiate with professors about grades and coursework.

This method is pertinent given that the College featured in Steven’s book and Redwood College are both small elite liberal arts colleges and might have similar requirements in their respective admissions processes.
Furthermore, Bryn’s guidance counselor at Exeter also acts as an important form of social capital. Because of the relatively low student to faculty ratio at Philips Exeter Academy, a prestigious boarding school in New Hampshire, Bryn receives individualized attention from his college counselor with whom he is able to form a valuable relationship. Bryn’s college counselor personally contacted Redwood’s admissions office to relay positive information about Bryn’s interest in attending Redwood College, providing admissions officers with personal insight about Bryn’s character that is missing about Jayden and Samantha.
In fact, the established relationship between colleges and prominent high schools in the country already puts Jayden at a disadvantage compared to Bryn and Samantha during the college admissions process. While colleges and universities send admissions officers across the country to form working relationships with high school college counselors, Stevens observes that the entire process is an “elite exercise” (2007:85). Officers will certainly travel to renowned private schools like Exeter but not necessarily to public schools in urban neighborhoods like Jayden’s school. As a result, working-class students Jayden do not get the chance to meet with college admissions officers or receive information about colleges’ requirements and programs.

The same sociological factors I use in crafting my admission recommendations will also play a significant role in explaining the applicants’ potentially divergent pathways through college as well as differences in their hypothesized post-college lives.
An admissions officer’s ability to structure these narratives is intrinsically linked to the “raw materials from which the story is made” (Stevens 2007:200) which differ from applicant to applicant because of varying sociological factors.

Additionally, middle-class parents are able to pass on more cultural capital to their children than working-class parents can. Through concerted cultivation, middle-class children are endowed with cultural capital that benefits them both at school and in the work place. Shaking hands, being well dressed and groomed, making eye contact and being assertive are all aspects of cultural capital that working-class parents do not necessarily pass on to their children (Lareau 2003). Instead, working-class children mirror their parent’s uncomfortable and restrained behavior when confronted by authority. Thus, Jayden did not come for the recommended on-campus interview, resisting contact with the academic institution all together during the application process.

Despite his lack of social and cultural capital, Jayden’s application provides a telling personal essay about his mother’s struggle to overcome financial difficulties after being incarcerated, balancing two jobs to provide him with the necessary tools to succeed academically.

Middle-class parents are able to use their social and cultural capital to shape the course of their children’s education with the end goal of a college degree in mind from an early age (Stevens 164). Through concerted cultivation, middle-class children are endowed with cultural capital that benefits them both at school and in the work place. Shaking hands, making eye contact and being assertive, taking trips to the museum or the ballet are just a few of the aspects of cultural capital that working-class parents do not necessarily pass on to their children (Lareau 2003).

Through accomplishment of natural of growth, children of working-class families are generally left to organize their own time between watching television, socializing with relatives and playing in pickup games of basketball or football with neighborhood friends (Lareau 2003).

The discrepancies in the quality of the final narrative I construct for each applicant in this process can be accounted for, in part, by discrepancies between the applicants’ social and cultural capital.

While Bryn will most likely be distracted by student life at Redwood such as clubs and Greek life, given Samantha’s dedication to her extracurricular activities and volunteer work and that she has already expressed

In short, Samantha succeeds where the Bryn and Jayden fall short. Like Bryn, Samantha’s inputs provide her with an enormous academic and social advantage when she begins her college education. However, unlike Bryn, Samantha will most likely use these advantages to do well academically in college. Whereas Bryn might have
She is the child of a middle-class family who grew up through concerted cultivation. Not only did she attend an academically rigorous public high school but she excelled at

He is trying to find, like Descartes, an indubitable foundation for all inquiry. The world is just acceptance phenomenon. He is the transcendental ego looking in at his worldly ego and everything that happens is just acceptance phenomena.
But, in the epoche, he does not accept what is happening in the world as something that is in fact actually happening but merely phenomena to be reflected upon. The natural existence, natural state, is one of believing what happens in the world as actually happening. But, by adopting the epoche, one suspends that kind of acceptance and approach what happens are mere phenomena.
We are looking for that apodictic thing to ground our scientific inquiries. He agrees with Descartes that the ego cogito is that one thing. However, he thinks that Descartes did not fully understand the power of his discovery. Descartes places the ego in the world and uses that to prove the existence of God and the external world and so force. Husserl, on the other hand believes that the phenomenon, his experience of the world – real or not real – is indeed something. Even if he abstains from believing in his sensuous experience, the abstaining exists. And as a reflective ego, he chooses to abstain from believing in his sensuous experience. And in doing so, it is not the world experienced disappears or does not exist, it goes on as experienced by him and the only difference is that he is no longer in his natural state of accepting the believing of its existence in his experience. The believing still happens, he just no longer takes that for granted. He applies this to other processes of meaning such as judging and valuing. These position-takings presuppose the existence of the world so while they still do keep happening, he keeps believing and judging, he abstains from accepting or positing these processes and what is meant by them as anything but mere phenomenon. In this way, Husserl believes we arrive at the core of our living, what he calls pure living, we experience things purely as what is meant in them in the universe of phenomena. In this way, Husserl knows himself purely as ego in which the world exists entirely as phenomena as experienced by his ego.
In Cartesian Meditations, Edmund Husserl introduces the “phenomenological epoche” as a method of philosophical reflection. To find
In Cartesian Meditations, Husserl introduces the “phenomenological epoche” as a method of philosophical reflection. He makes the distinction between one’s natural attitude towards the existence of the world and one’s transcendental attitude towards the same. In the “natural and non-reflective” attitude we typically occupy on a day-to-day basis, we take for granted the fact that the world exists independently of ourselves. All of our “processes of meaning” such as experiences, judgments and valuations, in this natural attitude, presuppose belief in the existence of the world.
Since we do not have apodictically certain knowledge, knowledge that is beyond all doubt, of the world’s existence through our experiences, we must remove these presuppositions of its existence we hold in our natural attitude. In adopting the transcendental, “philosophically reflective” attitude Husserl calls the phenomenological epoche, we suspend our natural belief of the world’s existence and take our experiences of the world to be acceptance phenomenon. The world is simply what we take to be there, “anything belonging to the world, any spatiotemporal being, exists for me – that is to say, accepted by me – in that I experience it” (21).
While we abstain from all “position-takings” with respect to the experienced world when we assume the position of phenomenological epoche, we continue to have the same experiences in this “reflectively grasped life” as we do in our natural attitude. In this passage, Husserl points out that the only change that occurs in adopting the transcendental attitude is that we “no longer keep in effect (no longer accept)

Because we do not have apodictic knowledge, knowledge that is beyond doubt, of the existence of the real world, Husserl believes the world is merely acceptance phenomenon.
He calls the latter transcendental position the phenomenological epoche. The phenomenological epoche is the act of no longer accepting positions and judgments about the objective world. In our natural position, we take the existence of the real world for granted and
Husserl makes the distinction between two attitudes towards the world.
and the transcendental position in which you suspend this belief. Husserl believes that one’s “position-takings” or judgments, feelings, in this natural state
In doing so, Husserl believes we gain possession of our “pure living” (20).
Husserl uses Descartes’ “principle of absolute indubitability” (16) as a point of departure for his own series of meditations and, like Descartes, believes the ego cogito is “the ultimate and apodictically certain basis for judgments, the basis on which any radical philosophy must be grounded” (17), where to be apodictically certain is for something’s non-being to be inconceivable.
If the ego cogito is the apodictically certain foundation for all “genuine science” (16), Husserl believes everything in the world, “the whole concrete surrounding life-world” (19) becomes phenomena. Whether this world as phenomena is real or illusory, whether it exists or not, such phenomena is

Existentialism and Phenomenology
Interpretive Writing Assignment 1

In Cartesian Meditations, Husserl introduces the “phenomenological epoche” as a method of philosophical reflection. Husserl distinguishes between our “natural and non-reflective” attitude and our transcendental, “philosophically reflective” attitude towards the world’s existence. I shall refer the former as our ‘natural attitude’ and the latter as our ‘transcendental attitude’. Through the phenomenological epoche, we set aside our questions about the existence of world, which we take for granted in the natural attitude, and focus on the world as simply acceptance phenomenon.
In the natural attitude, which we occupy on a day-to-day basis, we take the fact that the world exists independently of ourselves for granted. For example, when I see a trucking moving towards me as I cross the street, I move out of the truck’s way because I take for granted the fact that there is, indeed, a truck driving down the street. Husserl posits that all of our “processes of meaning” in this natural attitude such as our judgments or valuations presuppose the same belief in the existence of the world. However, since we do not have apodictically certain knowledge, knowledge that is beyond all doubt, of the world’s existence through our experiences, we must remove the presupposition of its existence we hold in our natural attitude.
We do so by adopting the transcendental, “philosophically reflective” attitude Husserl calls the phenomenological epoche. We suspend our natural belief of the world’s existence and take our experience of the world to be merely what we experience as being there, “anything belonging to the world, any spatiotemporal being, exists for me – that is to say, accepted by me – in that I experience it” (21). My crossing the street and seeing the truck in the previous example serves as an experience whether or not a truck is really there.
Husserl points out that, while we abstain from our taken-for-granted belief in the world when we assume the position of phenomenological epoche, it does not mean our experience in the natural attitude ceases or disappears. Everything I do in my natural attitude is grasped by what Husserl calls my “noticing regard” in the transcendental attitude. In adopting the phenomenological epoche, we become observers of our continued experience of the world in the natural attitude only without our confidence in the world’s existence. Husserl thus describes the world experienced in the natural attitude, when considered in the transcendental attitude, as “‘mere phenomenon’”.

1. Primary disagreement between Jackson and Lewis
a. Both agree that there physical things in the world
b. But, they disagree about the existence of non-physical things in the world
i. Jackson believes there are non-physical things in the world
ii. Lewis believes there are no non-physical things in the world has to say why Jackson is wrong
2. Jackson (Knowledge Argument)
a. Imagine the Mary example to show that there are non-physical things in the world
b. Mary is a brilliant scientist that lives in a black and white room, learning about the world and everything physical about the world in black and white. When she steps out of the room, does she gain any new information if she already knows all the physical information?
c. Jackson believes she does. Mary, when she steps out of the black and white room, gains knowledge of which the subject matter is non-physical. She gains non-physical knowledge about the experience of seeing a color. Therefore, physicalism is wrong in saying that only physical things exist. Obviously, if she knew all of the physical information while she was in the room, then, if she learns any information when she comes out of the room, the information cannot be physical.
d. The Knowledge Argument
i. When you have an experience, you gain information about non-physical things in the world
ii. Mary has all the physical information about human color (the world) when she is in the room before the release
iii. There is information about human color (the world) that she does not have before she is released from the room and when she first has an experience
iv. Not all information is physical information
v. There are non-physical subject matter of information
3. Lewis (Ability Hypothesis)
a. Needs to refute Jackson’s argument
i. Lewis is a physicalist who believes brain states are mental states. He needs to refute Jackson’s non-physical objects argument.
b. There are no non-physical things in the world
c. When Mary steps out of the room, she does not learn any information that can rule out other physical possibilities, she gains an ability to recognize, memorize experiences
d. There are odd things about the non-physical information
i. Information is incommunicable and you cannot write down any information, physical or non-physical, that can communicate to Mary what it is like to see a color
ii. What is the content of this information?
e. Refute the intuition that there is something non-physical
f. Ability Hypothesis
4. My assessment of Jackson and Lewis
a. Instinctively, I lean towards Jackson’s argument that there are non-physical things which form the subject matter of what we learn about the world when we feel, see, or hear
b. Lewis’ argument, on the other hand, is convincing but I do not believe experience translates to ability

• Primary Disagreement
o Are the non-physical things in the world?
o Jackson believes there are non-physical things in the world while Lewis, who believes there are only physical things, needs to refute Jackson’s knowledge argument.
o Jackson introduces the example of Mary the brilliant scientist to argue that there are non-physical things in the world.
o Lewis argues that Jackson’s example is wrong and Mary does not gain any new information. He argues that Mary only gains new abilities when she steps out of the room. Mary gains the ability to imagine, remember, and recognize experiences.
• The Knowledge Argument
o Jackson wants to argue that there are non-physical things in the world which we can gain new propositional knowledge from when we have experiences.
o Mary is a brilliant scientist who lives in a black and white room and learns all that there is to know, physically, about human vision and color. Jackson wants to argue that even though Mary knows all of the physical information, she does not know what the experience of seeing color is actually like. When Mary is released from her black and white room, Jackson believes she gains non-physical information about what it is like to see color.
o Physicalism is the view that there are only physical things in the world. Since there are only physical things in the world, the view that Jackson holds is incorrect because it supposes the existence of non-physical things that form the subject matter of Mary’s new knowledge when she walks out of the room. Because these two views are incompatible, Jackson believes physicalism is false.
o His argument relies on the intuition that there must be something non-physical happening when we see a color or hear a sound. But his argument goes to show why we have this intuition. If all the physical information in the world cannot tell Mary what it is like to see a color, and if she gains any new information when she steps out of the room, she must be gaining some non-physical information because she knows all of the physical information when she was in the room.
• The Ability Hypothesis
o Lewis believes that when Mary steps out of the room, she only gains new abilities. She does not gain any new propositional information the subject matter of which is non-physical things. If she does not gain any new information, there are no non-physical things in the world.
o She gains something new, but this something is not knowledge. Rather, she gains a certain set of abilities. She gains the ability to recognize, remember, and imagine some experience.

1. The primary disagreement
a. Are there physical objects?
i. The primary disagreement between Jackson and Lewis is whether or not there are any
b. Physicalism
c. Jackson’s argument against physicalism
i. Mary example
ii. Knowledge Argument
1. When Mary steps out of the room, she gains new information that is about non-physical things
d. Lewis’s rejection of Jackson’s argument
i. Ability Hypothesis
1. Peculiar about knowledge
a. No amount of information can tell Mary what its like
2. Intuition that it is knowledge
a. Mary gains only abilities
2. My assessment
a.

• Consciousness
o Nihilating withdrawal
 Absolute freedom comes from our ability to take this backwards step and withdrawal ourselves from the content of our consciousness. We remove ourselves from the being-in-itself that just is.
o Pre-reflective cogito
• Being-in-itself
• Being-for-itself
• Facticity
• Transcendence
Present and evaluate Sartre’s argument (in ‘The Origin of Nothingness’) that our consciousness involves an absolute freedom. How is this claim consistent with Sartre’s insistence on our facticity? [Perhaps: pick some cases in which it might seem we are not free, and show-and-evaluate how Sartre might try to handle them.]
Here we get a sense of how Sartre begins with a Husserlian phenomenology but then wants to. Begins with that consciousness is always intentional, always directed upon an object. Object has to be understood as in the world in the way that Heidegger characterized. Pg 11 “All consciousness is consciousness of something….” Sartre’s claim is that consciousness exhausts it itself in this directness, it is not of anything other than its object. Consciousness is also in some other sense always conscious of itself, too. All consciousness is self-conscious. Pg 11 “necessary and sufficient condition…conscious of itself…” Consciousness then is always of an object but consciousness also has to be in some sense of itself. However, he says this self consciousness cannot be an explicit awareness or knowing because if it were that would begin and infinite regress. In order to be conscious of myself, I would need to be conscious of being conscious of myself and so on…Sartre’s claim that all intentionality presupposes consciousness of self but he can’t treat that consciousness of self as its own intentionality because it would start an infinite regress. To avoid regress, we have to suppose and underlying and pre-reflective self consciousness but this pre-reflective self consciousness is not …from the consciousness of the object as he says this Pg 15 top “self conscious….meaning of self consciousness…” Sartre thinks that it is in this pre reflective consciousness that we are given the being of consciousness that is always transphenomenal, it is always something that goes beyond or independent of phenomena itself. Phenomena is what intentionality is directed upon, this self consciousness must be outside or beyond our intentionality…directed upon something is not a phenomenon. Now and this is going to get him part way towards where he wants to be which is where the being of consciousness is a peculiar emptiness or transparency given to us not by an intentional directedness upon but given as if it were between our backs (?) It is a directedness upon something which has no content, something that is not phenomenon but it is only by this directedness that it is possible for us to view consciousness at all.

Part I
The book becomes more concrete. Sartre starts out in a way which might be compared to beginning of Being and Time. He starts out by posing a question and then bringing out features of that question itself, features of our activity of question to pose certain questions. So we’re trying to figure the relation between the BFI and the BII and trying to find out a relationship which avoids either dualism or idealism and in order to carry our investigator to study this relationship between BFI and BII and we have settle things, Heidegger settles on Dasein, the instance Sartre settles on the conduct we are engaged in, in inquiring or questioning. This is now on Pg 24 bottom of the page “now this very inquiry furnishes with the desired conduct…” He then tries to show that this question, the questioning, Sartre then says we examine this attitude of question and what is involved there, this attitude of questioning involves various kinds of negations. There’s the possibility that we’ll decide there are no relations, we’re questioning because we are in the state of not knowing. If we do get an answer to this question, the answer will be that the relation between them will be viewed this way and not other ways. Questioning itself involves negation, reference to none being. Takes the problem of negation of non-being as his first problem. By examining non-being or negation he can figure out the relation.
Jumping ahead to the first part of the book I asked you to read. The origin of nothingness. Crucial section because here Sartre explains nothingness in consciousness that permits nothingness. So we turn then to the activity of questioning and Sartre involves this a double negation. On one hand, this questioning negates the thing questioned by holding it between being and non-being. We’re interested in the relation between these, questioning what that relation is and somehow suspend it between being and non-being. This suspension and negation of the thing we are question is possible only by way of a nihilation, the questioner’s nihilating withdrawal from the question. On its own, being-in-itself is fully positive in its existence, its BII a network of causes and effects and any thing in that series has to be what it is in order to play its role in that system of causes and effects. Sartre’s idea is that only consciousness withdrawing or detaching itself from this casual nexus which is being in itself, that consciousness is able to introduce any negation into the positivity of being-in-itself. Pg 58 “From the very…”

45:03

“…universal determinism…question is determined…”

This in a very few words is Sartre’s argument that consciousness must involve a freedom from universal determinism. It seems to me a very sketchy argument in various senses but it is an argument that Sartre claims, he claims what is distinctive of consciousness, consciousness is a consciusness of something other than itself in order to be a consciousness of something it has to withdrawal and pull itself back from that which it is of “nihilating withdrawal” claims this nihilating withdrawal that allows consciousness to be of its objects can’t itself be explained as one more cause or effect in the causal order. His claim then is that the very logic of consciousness as a consciousness of something, consciousness must be free, this is the being of human beings, this nothingness which is also our freedom. Pg 60 half way down “human freedom precedes…” So, existence precedes essence, existence for Sartre means ..its only on the basis of that withdrawal that its possible then for us to attribute any particular content to ourselves, any essence.

Examples: this is about looking for Pierre, we’re looking for Pierre in his room and Sartre says that, asks what is involved in an experience of absence? And he says that this experience of absence, a negativity can’t be produced. I’m looking around P’s room and see his possessions and none of these appearances of his possessions, Sartre claims, can produce the experience of Pierre’s absence. His possessions would refer only to one another standing in relation only to one another, refer to each other things, this argument that is sketched before, to produce the experience of Peirre’s absence I have to make a break in this chain of causes and I also have to make a break in my own past and present states so this is now on page 63. “I am of necessity to produce…which no prior state can effect or motivate…succession of my states of consciousness of effect from cause…nihilating process…”

The very way I diagrammed it and the distinction of BIT and BFI there is a dualist position here, I think, so, part of his answer I think is to try to show that, as it were, neither BFI nor BIT is independent or can be independent of the other, not that there could be BFI and then by its directing itself on objects there is BIT and also not that BIT and independently BFI directing itself on objects. Of course, he also doesn’t want to be an idealism either, he avoids idealism by not turning consciousness to the mind. And that’s what this strategy of identifying consciousness as a nothingness is supposed to do. Idealism there are these mind substances and then there thoughts and ideas which are contents of those things, radically different features Sartre thinks which makes consciousness a thing, a withdrawal…

Sartre claims that consciousness experiences this absolute freedom that it possesses not just occasionally when it produces negativity but all the time: Pg 64 “freedom is the….human being putting his past out of play by secreting his own nothingness” Here’s another way to think of it, so let’s say that I’m conscious of a particular condition of myself, now by being conscious of it I’ve made that backwards step which distinguishes me from what I am conscious of, consciousness is always capable of that backward step, that movement of withdrawal which is to be conscious of something, that movement is pre-reflectively aware of itself as other than and different from what it is conscious of. Let’s say that I believe that the election will de decided by midnight, let’s say I believe a lectern here. Sartre’s claim is that by being able to be consciousness of believing there is a lectern there, I’ve withdrawn from that belief and I am something different from that belief by virtue of always being capable of being conscious of the things we already believe, we are capable of withdrawing from those beliefs, free from holding those beliefs to overturn those beliefs.

The general issue in the introduction is the relationship between consciousness, thought or experience and the real things that consciousness is of, intends or is directed upon. He has a large scale ambition to answer this question while avoiding the two standard options for addressing these issues: realism (dualism of appearance and reality like Descartes), or some form of realism (treats real things as contents of minds, contents of consciousness, Barkley takes). Sartre is trying to find some middle ground, some way of avoiding both of these answers and what he is trying to do is refer to consciousness as being-for-itself and to the real things that consciousness if of being-in-itself. Introduction sets up the problem of understanding the relationship between these two things that avoids realism and idealism.
Part I – Sartre takes a very surprising starting point and the starting point is our experience of lack, negativity in the world. He is going to raise the puzzle of how it is possible for us to experience the absence of things and going to argue that these experiences of negativity are only possible because of a more fundamental nothingness that belongs to the nature of consciousness (BFI). So there is a nothingness to consciousness, clarifies the tension between being (BII) and on the other hand nothingness of BFI. One of the things that we are going to get a grip on is in what sense is consciousness supposed to be a nothingness. It is only because that cosnciousness is a nothingness that phenomeona can appear to us at all. The most important consequence of consciousness as a nothingness is that we are absolutely free.
Part II – Sartre uses the idea of consciousness as a nothingness to explain the basic structures of consciousness. Part has a lot of interesting relationships to Chapter 5 of BT.
The pre-reflective cogito
We get a sense of how Sartre begins with a Husserlian pheonomenology but then wants to abandon it. He agrees with Husserl that consciousness is always intentional, meaning by that it is always directed upon some object and this object as in the world in the way that we saw H say it. Pg 9. So, consciousness is an intentional directedness upon objects which transcends beings in the world. Now, Sartre’s claim is that consciousness exhausts itself in this directedness, it is not of anything other than its object. Consciousness must also in some other sense always be conscious of itself too. All consciousness he says is self-consciousness. Pg 11 bottom. So, consciousness then is always of an object but consciousness also has to be in some sense of itself. However, he says, this self-consciousness can’t itself be intentional, cannot be an explicit awareness or knowing of consciousness. Because if it were It would begin an infinite refress. In order to be conscious of myself, I would need to be conscious of myself and so on and so forth. Idea is that: Sartre claims that all intentionality presupposes consciousness of self. But then we can’t treat that consciousness of self as a form of intentionality because it leads to infinite regress. Now, to avoid this regress Sartre says we have to suppose an underlying and pre-reflective self-consciousness and this pre-reflective self-consciousness is not separate (?) from the consciousness of the object. Pg 15 he says it in a metaphorical way “self-consciousness…” Now it is in this pre-reflective self-consciousness that we are given the being of consciousness and this being is always therefore transphenomenal. It is always something that goes beyond or is independent of the phenomenon itself. Here is a phenomenon, what intentionality is directed upon, this self-consciousness must be somehow outside or beyond our intentionality. It is must be directed upon something that is not any phenomenon and this going to get him part way towards where he wants to be, the conclusion that being of consciousness is a peculiar emptiness or transparency given to us not by an intentional directedness upon it but as it were behind our backs so to speak, directedness on something that has no content and is not phenomenon. And it is only by this directedness that ourselves that it is possible for us to be conscious of phenomenon at all.
Part I
Sartre starts out in a way that is similar to the beginning of BT. He starts out by posing a question and then bringing out features of that questions itself and our activity of questioning to pose certain dilemmas. So we’re trying to figure out the relation of BFI and BII and we’re trying to find out a relationship which avoids dualism and idealism and in order to carry out our investigation, to study this relation, we have to settle on some instance. The instance that Sartre settles on is the conduct that we are engaged in in our questioning. Attitude of interrogation I ask is there any relation that can reveal to me about man and world but on the other hand the question is not simply the objective, in a world it is a hidden attitude. What does this attitude reveal to us? He then tries to show that this question, we’re questioning, we have consciousness, Sartre then says examining this attitude of questioning and what is involved. This attitude of questioning has various kinds of negations, there is the possibility that we’ll decide there is no relation negative answer, another negation is that we are in the state of not knowing,: if we do get an swer, the answer between these will be this way and no other ways. Questioning itself involves negation and reference to non-being and then takes the problem of negation and non-being as his first problem, hoping that by examining non-being and negation that he can figure out the relation.
Sartre explains nothingness in consciousness that permits experience of negativities. So, we turn then to the activity of question, Sartre says this involves a double negation: on one hand questioning negates thing question by holding it between being and non-being. We’re interested in the relation in these, questioning it and then we suspend this relation between being and non-being. This suspension of being of thing in question he says is only possible by way of a nihilation, the questioner’s nihilating withdrawal. Nihilating withdrawal from the question. The point here is something like this BII is fully positive in its existence, a network of causes and effects and any element in that series of causes and effects has to be what it is in order to play its role in that system of causes and effect. Sartre’s idea is that only by cosnciousness pulling back or withdrawing itself form this causal nexus of BII that consciousness is able to introduce any negation into the positivity of BII.
The relationship between consciousness and the things consciousness is of)
The origin of nothingness, a crucial section because it is here that S explains nothingness in consciousness that permits experience of negativities. So, “we return then to the activity of questions…” This involves a double negation, on the one hand this questioning negates the thing questioned by holding it between being and non-being. WE’re interested in the relation between these and we are questioning the relation between these and we suspend this relation between being and non-being/ This suspension is possible only by way of a kind of nihilation and this is what he calls the questioner’s nihilating withdrawal from the question. So, the point here is something like this: on its own BII is fully positive in its existence. BII is a network of causes and effects and any element in that series of causes and effects has to be what it is in order ot play its role in that system of causes and effects. S’s idea would be that it is only by consciousness pulling back, withdrawing or detaching itself from thi causal nexus that is BII, that consciousness is able to introduce any negation into the positivity of BII. Pg 58 “from the very fact…” this, in a very fw words, is S’s argument that consciousness must involve a freedom from the universal determinism. It seems to be a very sketchy argument. What is distinctive of consciousness, consciousness is a consciousness of something other than itself, in order to be a consciousness of something it has to pull itself back from that which it is of. That is what he means by a nihilating withdrawal, claim is that this withdrawal that allows consciousness to be of its objects can’t itself be explained as one more cause or one more effect in the causal order of things. His claim then is that by the very logic of consciousness as a consciousness of something, consciousness must be free. This is the being of human beings. This nothingness which is also our freedom. Pg 60 “Human freedom precedes essence….essence is suspended in freedom….freedom impossible…” So, existence precedes essence, existence for S being this …consciousness. It is only on the basis of this withdrawal that is possible for us to attribute any particular content to ourselves, any essence. Now, S goes on to give us one of his more famous examples, the example of looking for Pierre. We’re looking for Pierre and we’re looking for Pierre in his room. S asks the question what is involved in an experience of…and he says that this experience of absence which he calls a negativity phenomenon can’t be produce, so I’m looking around Pierre’s room, none of these appearances of his possessions S thinks can produce the experience of Pierre’s absence. These possessions which refer only to one another stand in constant relation only one another,
Also have to make a break in my own past and present psychic states so this now is on page 63 “in terms of my perceptions of the world…”
Sartre simply wills self-consciousness into
It is problematic how Sartre thinks he is escaping dualism by the very way I just diagrammed between BII and BFI and it seems like we have a dualist position. I think, so, part of his answer is to try to show that neither BFI nor BII is independent of each. It is not that there could be BFI and then by its directing itself on objects that there can be BII. Part of this strategy is to try to show that even though different they are bound up in each other. One way he avoids idealism is by not turning consciousness into a substance, a kind of mind, and that is what this strategy of identifying consciousness as nothingness is supposed to do. On the Barkleian version there are mind-substances and hten thoughts, ideas, contents. S has a radically differnet picture which makes consciousness really opaque but something like a withdrawal…
S claims that consciousness experiences this absolute freedom not just occasionally and not just that its producing negativity pg 64 “freedom is the….” So, here is another way to think of it: let’s say that I’m conscious of something, I’m conscious of a particular condition of myself. Now by being conscious of it I have made that backwards step that distinguishes me from what I am conscious of. Consciousness is always capable of that backwards step that movement of withdrawal which is involved in being conscious of something, that withdrawal is also pre-reflectively aware of itself as other than, as different from, what it is conscious of. So, for example, I believe that there is a lectern here. S’s claim is that being able to be conscious of believing that there is a lectern there, I have, as it were, withdrawn from that belief. I am now something different from that believing. By virtue of being always capable of being conscious of the things that we already believe we are capable of withdrawing from those beliefs, free from holding those beliefs, free to overturn those beliefs.
S tries to use this idea of consciousness as nothingness as a way of reinterpreting some of the existential themes we met in H and K. S thinks that beyond all of these experiences I have of negativities and absences in the world. Another example is destruction about a storm and how a storm destroys things. Cosnidered just in the well of the in-itself, that seeming destruction is a rearrangement of atoms, a reconfirguation of stuff is there. To be destruction experienced, it needs to be experienced as empty which is only possible through consciousness’ withdrawal. Besides these experiences of negations in the world. S thinks there is a special experience in which we confront our more basic nothingness, anguish which is S’s rewriting of Heidegger’s anxiety. Pg 65
S interprets our consciousness as involving this step back from the phenomenon which is its intended object and claims that this step back constitutes an absolute freedom for us. So, he describes it as a nihilating withdrawal, by being conscious, if you think of yourself as believing by the very act of conscious of that belief, you withdraw from that belief, pull back form that belief, in a way that gives you the capacity possibility of what, in away separates you from that belief, so that you are as it were you are no longer immersed I the belief, you are withdrawn from it, you have the possibility of rejecting the belief. One strong continuity with Husserl is S’s stress on consciousness. Husserl claims intentionality in this way as well. S’s idea is that this withdrawal that consciousness always involves is a separation from you yourself have been.
Something surprising about S’s claim and goes against what we ordinarily suppose, this freedom is deeply upsetting and disconcerting. S’s idea is that we would prefer to understand ourselves as determined and our discontent with our freedom is manifested in particular in the deep response of anguish. Talked last time about distinction between fear and anguish.
What we see is that this freedom that h wants to characterize as absolute is only one side one aspect to us. There are ways in which he takes back the absoluteness of this freedom as it goes on. Anguish plays a comparable role in S to anxiety in H so just as anxiety is this deeply troubling recognition of certain limits to our human condition, we avoid and flee into the condition of falling or inauthenticity and so far S anguish plays a similar a role and our response to that is not falling but bad faith. So, on pg 83 “reassuring myths….unity of the same conscious…flee in order not to know…flight of anguish is a mode of…” So, we are then at the same time both avoiding and the very notion of avoidance you are recognizing that which you are avoiding “flee it….bad faith”. Now, the next chapter of this part I is devoted to bad faith. And I want to turn to this section called patterns of bad fiath on page 96 and here we get
Remember He’s distinction between thrownness and projection and Sartre will use facticity and transcendence. So what now emerges, according to Sartre there are two fundamental aspects to us of our facticity is the extent to which we are fixed and determined, one of the ways S is trying to pull back from the absolute freedom. Facticity includes bodily characteristics, includes my past and what I have been and what I have not. Aspects of my facticity, aspects of me that are settled. Transcendence is freedom, ability to do and be something different form my path, becoming something more. Sartre’s claim now is ithat I have a contradictory and paradoxical structure as both of these. He uses the term BFI for human beings, each of us are BFI and we are distinct then from BII which is what things are. So, the way he wants to put is is that BII simply is what it is but BFI, by virte of being facticity and transcendence, has this contradictory structure which he says involves our being what we are not and not being what we are. It is this contradictory structure he thinks that makes bad fiath possible for us.

Idea is like this: we of course want to be consciousnesses, we want to be BFI but we also want to also have a kind of unitary and non-contradictory structure such as being in itself has. We want to be an in-itself being for-itself or a for-itself being in-itself. Somehow fuse our being consciousness and our having the self identity and unity that mere things have. And bad faith is going to involve trying to find ourselves as unitary and non-contradictory either in our facticity or in our transcendence. And, as it were, ignoring the other one so that we can just be our facticity or just our transcendence.

• Consciousness
o For Sartre, consciousness is always intentional and is always directed upon an object. Consciousness is consciousness of something and because it is always directed upon an object, consciousness is not of anything other than its object.
o Pre-reflective cogito
o At the same time, consciousness is also conscious of itself. All consciousness is self-conscious. However, this self-consciousness cannot be an explicit awareness of knowing because it would lead to an infinite regress. To be self-conscious or conscious of myself, I would need to be conscious of being conscious of myself and so on. To avoid this problem of infinite regress, Sartre claims that all of consciousness’ intentionality presupposed consciousness of the self but this presupposed consciousness is an underlying, pre-reflective self-consciousness that is always beyond the phenomenon that consciousness is directed upon. Phenomena is the what intentionality is directed upon. Self-consciousness must be outside and beyond this intentionality and be directed upon something that is not phenomenon. Thus, Sartre concludes, the being of consciousness is an emptiness, a directedness upon something which has no content. It is by this directedness that it is possible for us to see consciousness at all.
o Example: I am conscious of this table. I am conscious of myself as conscious of this table and thus, I am conscious of myself, because of my consciousness of this table, as something different from this table.
o Being-in-itself – Being-in-itself simply is. It is
o Being-for-itself
o Consciousness as nothingness
 According to Sartre, the activity of questioning involves a double negation. On one hand this questioning negates the object in question by holding it between being and non-being. Given that by questioning we are interested in the relation between BII and BFI, our questioning of this relation suspends the relation between being and non-being. This suspension or negation of the relation we are questioning is possible only by way of what Sartre terms a nihilation. The question’s “nihilating withdrawal” from the question makes the negation of the thing in question possible.
• Absolute Freedom
o Bad faith as a vacillation between facticity and transcendence
o Facticity
o Transcendence
• Absolute freedom being consistent with facticity aspect of bad faith
o Facticity as the ways I am conscious of myself as being
o Situation in which we are not free??
• Consciousness
o Nihilating withdrawal
 Absolute freedom comes from our ability to take this backwards step and withdrawal ourselves from the content of our consciousness. We remove ourselves from the being-in-itself that just is.
o Pre-reflective cogito
• Being-in-itself
• Being-for-itself
• Facticity
• Transcendence
Present and evaluate Sartre’s argument (in ‘The Origin of Nothingness’) that our consciousness involves an absolute freedom. How is this claim consistent with Sartre’s insistence on our facticity? [Perhaps: pick some cases in which it might seem we are not free, and show-and-evaluate how Sartre might try to handle them.]
Here we get a sense of how Sartre begins with a Husserlian phenomenology but then wants to. Begins with that consciousness is always intentional, always directed upon an object. Object has to be understood as in the world in the way that Heidegger characterized. Pg 11 “All consciousness is consciousness of something….” Sartre’s claim is that consciousness exhausts it itself in this directness, it is not of anything other than its object. Consciousness is also in some other sense always conscious of itself, too. All consciousness is self-conscious. Pg 11 “necessary and sufficient condition…conscious of itself…” Consciousness then is always of an object but consciousness also has to be in some sense of itself. However, he says this self consciousness cannot be an explicit awareness or knowing because if it were that would begin and infinite regress. In order to be conscious of myself, I would need to be conscious of being conscious of myself and so on…Sartre’s claim that all intentionality presupposes consciousness of self but he can’t treat that consciousness of self as its own intentionality because it would start an infinite regress. To avoid regress, we have to suppose and underlying and pre-reflective self consciousness but this pre-reflective self consciousness is not …from the consciousness of the object as he says this Pg 15 top “self conscious….meaning of self consciousness…” Sartre thinks that it is in this pre reflective consciousness that we are given the being of consciousness that is always transphenomenal, it is always something that goes beyond or independent of phenomena itself. Phenomena is what intentionality is directed upon, this self consciousness must be outside or beyond our intentionality…directed upon something is not a phenomenon. Now and this is going to get him part way towards where he wants to be which is where the being of consciousness is a peculiar emptiness or transparency given to us not by an intentional directedness upon but given as if it were between our backs (?) It is a directedness upon something which has no content, something that is not phenomenon but it is only by this directedness that it is possible for us to view consciousness at all.

Part I
The book becomes more concrete. Sartre starts out in a way which might be compared to beginning of Being and Time. He starts out by posing a question and then bringing out features of that question itself, features of our activity of question to pose certain questions. So we’re trying to figure the relation between the BFI and the BII and trying to find out a relationship which avoids either dualism or idealism and in order to carry our investigator to study this relationship between BFI and BII and we have settle things, Heidegger settles on Dasein, the instance Sartre settles on the conduct we are engaged in, in inquiring or questioning. This is now on Pg 24 bottom of the page “now this very inquiry furnishes with the desired conduct…” He then tries to show that this question, the questioning, Sartre then says we examine this attitude of question and what is involved there, this attitude of questioning involves various kinds of negations. There’s the possibility that we’ll decide there are no relations, we’re questioning because we are in the state of not knowing. If we do get an answer to this question, the answer will be that the relation between them will be viewed this way and not other ways. Questioning itself involves negation, reference to none being. Takes the problem of negation of non-being as his first problem. By examining non-being or negation he can figure out the relation.
Jumping ahead to the first part of the book I asked you to read. The origin of nothingness. Crucial section because here Sartre explains nothingness in consciousness that permits nothingness. So we turn then to the activity of questioning and Sartre involves this a double negation. On one hand, this questioning negates the thing questioned by holding it between being and non-being. We’re interested in the relation between these, questioning what that relation is and somehow suspend it between being and non-being. This suspension and negation of the thing we are question is possible only by way of a nihilation, the questioner’s nihilating withdrawal from the question. On its own, being-in-itself is fully positive in its existence, its BII a network of causes and effects and any thing in that series has to be what it is in order to play its role in that system of causes and effects. Sartre’s idea is that only consciousness withdrawing or detaching itself from this casual nexus which is being in itself, that consciousness is able to introduce any negation into the positivity of being-in-itself. Pg 58 “From the very…”

45:03

“…universal determinism…question is determined…”

This in a very few words is Sartre’s argument that consciousness must involve a freedom from universal determinism. It seems to me a very sketchy argument in various senses but it is an argument that Sartre claims, he claims what is distinctive of consciousness, consciousness is a consciusness of something other than itself in order to be a consciousness of something it has to withdrawal and pull itself back from that which it is of “nihilating withdrawal” claims this nihilating withdrawal that allows consciousness to be of its objects can’t itself be explained as one more cause or effect in the causal order. His claim then is that the very logic of consciousness as a consciousness of something, consciousness must be free, this is the being of human beings, this nothingness which is also our freedom. Pg 60 half way down “human freedom precedes…” So, existence precedes essence, existence for Sartre means ..its only on the basis of that withdrawal that its possible then for us to attribute any particular content to ourselves, any essence.

Examples: this is about looking for Pierre, we’re looking for Pierre in his room and Sartre says that, asks what is involved in an experience of absence? And he says that this experience of absence, a negativity can’t be produced. I’m looking around P’s room and see his possessions and none of these appearances of his possessions, Sartre claims, can produce the experience of Pierre’s absence. His possessions would refer only to one another standing in relation only to one another, refer to each other things, this argument that is sketched before, to produce the experience of Peirre’s absence I have to make a break in this chain of causes and I also have to make a break in my own past and present states so this is now on page 63. “I am of necessity to produce…which no prior state can effect or motivate…succession of my states of consciousness of effect from cause…nihilating process…”

The very way I diagrammed it and the distinction of BIT and BFI there is a dualist position here, I think, so, part of his answer I think is to try to show that, as it were, neither BFI nor BIT is independent or can be independent of the other, not that there could be BFI and then by its directing itself on objects there is BIT and also not that BIT and independently BFI directing itself on objects. Of course, he also doesn’t want to be an idealism either, he avoids idealism by not turning consciousness to the mind. And that’s what this strategy of identifying consciousness as a nothingness is supposed to do. Idealism there are these mind substances and then there thoughts and ideas which are contents of those things, radically different features Sartre thinks which makes consciousness a thing, a withdrawal…

Sartre claims that consciousness experiences this absolute freedom that it possesses not just occasionally when it produces negativity but all the time: Pg 64 “freedom is the….human being putting his past out of play by secreting his own nothingness” Here’s another way to think of it, so let’s say that I’m conscious of a particular condition of myself, now by being conscious of it I’ve made that backwards step which distinguishes me from what I am conscious of, consciousness is always capable of that backward step, that movement of withdrawal which is to be conscious of something, that movement is pre-reflectively aware of itself as other than and different from what it is conscious of. Let’s say that I believe that the election will de decided by midnight, let’s say I believe a lectern here. Sartre’s claim is that by being able to be consciousness of believing there is a lectern there, I’ve withdrawn from that belief and I am something different from that belief by virtue of always being capable of being conscious of the things we already believe, we are capable of withdrawing from those beliefs, free from holding those beliefs to overturn those beliefs.

The general issue in the introduction is the relationship between consciousness, thought or experience and the real things that consciousness is of, intends or is directed upon. He has a large scale ambition to answer this question while avoiding the two standard options for addressing these issues: realism (dualism of appearance and reality like Descartes), or some form of realism (treats real things as contents of minds, contents of consciousness, Barkley takes). Sartre is trying to find some middle ground, some way of avoiding both of these answers and what he is trying to do is refer to consciousness as being-for-itself and to the real things that consciousness if of being-in-itself. Introduction sets up the problem of understanding the relationship between these two things that avoids realism and idealism.
Part I – Sartre takes a very surprising starting point and the starting point is our experience of lack, negativity in the world. He is going to raise the puzzle of how it is possible for us to experience the absence of things and going to argue that these experiences of negativity are only possible because of a more fundamental nothingness that belongs to the nature of consciousness (BFI). So there is a nothingness to consciousness, clarifies the tension between being (BII) and on the other hand nothingness of BFI. One of the things that we are going to get a grip on is in what sense is consciousness supposed to be a nothingness. It is only because that cosnciousness is a nothingness that phenomeona can appear to us at all. The most important consequence of consciousness as a nothingness is that we are absolutely free.
Part II – Sartre uses the idea of consciousness as a nothingness to explain the basic structures of consciousness. Part has a lot of interesting relationships to Chapter 5 of BT.
The pre-reflective cogito
We get a sense of how Sartre begins with a Husserlian pheonomenology but then wants to abandon it. He agrees with Husserl that consciousness is always intentional, meaning by that it is always directed upon some object and this object as in the world in the way that we saw H say it. Pg 9. So, consciousness is an intentional directedness upon objects which transcends beings in the world. Now, Sartre’s claim is that consciousness exhausts itself in this directedness, it is not of anything other than its object. Consciousness must also in some other sense always be conscious of itself too. All consciousness he says is self-consciousness. Pg 11 bottom. So, consciousness then is always of an object but consciousness also has to be in some sense of itself. However, he says, this self-consciousness can’t itself be intentional, cannot be an explicit awareness or knowing of consciousness. Because if it were It would begin an infinite refress. In order to be conscious of myself, I would need to be conscious of myself and so on and so forth. Idea is that: Sartre claims that all intentionality presupposes consciousness of self. But then we can’t treat that consciousness of self as a form of intentionality because it leads to infinite regress. Now, to avoid this regress Sartre says we have to suppose an underlying and pre-reflective self-consciousness and this pre-reflective self-consciousness is not separate (?) from the consciousness of the object. Pg 15 he says it in a metaphorical way “self-consciousness…” Now it is in this pre-reflective self-consciousness that we are given the being of consciousness and this being is always therefore transphenomenal. It is always something that goes beyond or is independent of the phenomenon itself. Here is a phenomenon, what intentionality is directed upon, this self-consciousness must be somehow outside or beyond our intentionality. It is must be directed upon something that is not any phenomenon and this going to get him part way towards where he wants to be, the conclusion that being of consciousness is a peculiar emptiness or transparency given to us not by an intentional directedness upon it but as it were behind our backs so to speak, directedness on something that has no content and is not phenomenon. And it is only by this directedness that ourselves that it is possible for us to be conscious of phenomenon at all.
Part I
Sartre starts out in a way that is similar to the beginning of BT. He starts out by posing a question and then bringing out features of that questions itself and our activity of questioning to pose certain dilemmas. So we’re trying to figure out the relation of BFI and BII and we’re trying to find out a relationship which avoids dualism and idealism and in order to carry out our investigation, to study this relation, we have to settle on some instance. The instance that Sartre settles on is the conduct that we are engaged in in our questioning. Attitude of interrogation I ask is there any relation that can reveal to me about man and world but on the other hand the question is not simply the objective, in a world it is a hidden attitude. What does this attitude reveal to us? He then tries to show that this question, we’re questioning, we have consciousness, Sartre then says examining this attitude of questioning and what is involved. This attitude of questioning has various kinds of negations, there is the possibility that we’ll decide there is no relation negative answer, another negation is that we are in the state of not knowing,: if we do get an swer, the answer between these will be this way and no other ways. Questioning itself involves negation and reference to non-being and then takes the problem of negation and non-being as his first problem, hoping that by examining non-being and negation that he can figure out the relation.
Sartre explains nothingness in consciousness that permits experience of negativities. So, we turn then to the activity of question, Sartre says this involves a double negation: on one hand questioning negates thing question by holding it between being and non-being. We’re interested in the relation in these, questioning it and then we suspend this relation between being and non-being. This suspension of being of thing in question he says is only possible by way of a nihilation, the questioner’s nihilating withdrawal. Nihilating withdrawal from the question. The point here is something like this BII is fully positive in its existence, a network of causes and effects and any element in that series of causes and effects has to be what it is in order to play its role in that system of causes and effect. Sartre’s idea is that only by cosnciousness pulling back or withdrawing itself form this causal nexus of BII that consciousness is able to introduce any negation into the positivity of BII.
The relationship between consciousness and the things consciousness is of)
The origin of nothingness, a crucial section because it is here that S explains nothingness in consciousness that permits experience of negativities. So, “we return then to the activity of questions…” This involves a double negation, on the one hand this questioning negates the thing questioned by holding it between being and non-being. WE’re interested in the relation between these and we are questioning the relation between these and we suspend this relation between being and non-being/ This suspension is possible only by way of a kind of nihilation and this is what he calls the questioner’s nihilating withdrawal from the question. So, the point here is something like this: on its own BII is fully positive in its existence. BII is a network of causes and effects and any element in that series of causes and effects has to be what it is in order ot play its role in that system of causes and effects. S’s idea would be that it is only by consciousness pulling back, withdrawing or detaching itself from thi causal nexus that is BII, that consciousness is able to introduce any negation into the positivity of BII. Pg 58 “from the very fact…” this, in a very fw words, is S’s argument that consciousness must involve a freedom from the universal determinism. It seems to be a very sketchy argument. What is distinctive of consciousness, consciousness is a consciousness of something other than itself, in order to be a consciousness of something it has to pull itself back from that which it is of. That is what he means by a nihilating withdrawal, claim is that this withdrawal that allows consciousness to be of its objects can’t itself be explained as one more cause or one more effect in the causal order of things. His claim then is that by the very logic of consciousness as a consciousness of something, consciousness must be free. This is the being of human beings. This nothingness which is also our freedom. Pg 60 “Human freedom precedes essence….essence is suspended in freedom….freedom impossible…” So, existence precedes essence, existence for S being this …consciousness. It is only on the basis of this withdrawal that is possible for us to attribute any particular content to ourselves, any essence. Now, S goes on to give us one of his more famous examples, the example of looking for Pierre. We’re looking for Pierre and we’re looking for Pierre in his room. S asks the question what is involved in an experience of…and he says that this experience of absence which he calls a negativity phenomenon can’t be produce, so I’m looking around Pierre’s room, none of these appearances of his possessions S thinks can produce the experience of Pierre’s absence. These possessions which refer only to one another stand in constant relation only one another,
Also have to make a break in my own past and present psychic states so this now is on page 63 “in terms of my perceptions of the world…”
Sartre simply wills self-consciousness into
It is problematic how Sartre thinks he is escaping dualism by the very way I just diagrammed between BII and BFI and it seems like we have a dualist position. I think, so, part of his answer is to try to show that neither BFI nor BII is independent of each. It is not that there could be BFI and then by its directing itself on objects that there can be BII. Part of this strategy is to try to show that even though different they are bound up in each other. One way he avoids idealism is by not turning consciousness into a substance, a kind of mind, and that is what this strategy of identifying consciousness as nothingness is supposed to do. On the Barkleian version there are mind-substances and hten thoughts, ideas, contents. S has a radically differnet picture which makes consciousness really opaque but something like a withdrawal…
S claims that consciousness experiences this absolute freedom not just occasionally and not just that its producing negativity pg 64 “freedom is the….” So, here is another way to think of it: let’s say that I’m conscious of something, I’m conscious of a particular condition of myself. Now by being conscious of it I have made that backwards step that distinguishes me from what I am conscious of. Consciousness is always capable of that backwards step that movement of withdrawal which is involved in being conscious of something, that withdrawal is also pre-reflectively aware of itself as other than, as different from, what it is conscious of. So, for example, I believe that there is a lectern here. S’s claim is that being able to be conscious of believing that there is a lectern there, I have, as it were, withdrawn from that belief. I am now something different from that believing. By virtue of being always capable of being conscious of the things that we already believe we are capable of withdrawing from those beliefs, free from holding those beliefs, free to overturn those beliefs.
S tries to use this idea of consciousness as nothingness as a way of reinterpreting some of the existential themes we met in H and K. S thinks that beyond all of these experiences I have of negativities and absences in the world. Another example is destruction about a storm and how a storm destroys things. Cosnidered just in the well of the in-itself, that seeming destruction is a rearrangement of atoms, a reconfirguation of stuff is there. To be destruction experienced, it needs to be experienced as empty which is only possible through consciousness’ withdrawal. Besides these experiences of negations in the world. S thinks there is a special experience in which we confront our more basic nothingness, anguish which is S’s rewriting of Heidegger’s anxiety. Pg 65
S interprets our consciousness as involving this step back from the phenomenon which is its intended object and claims that this step back constitutes an absolute freedom for us. So, he describes it as a nihilating withdrawal, by being conscious, if you think of yourself as believing by the very act of conscious of that belief, you withdraw from that belief, pull back form that belief, in a way that gives you the capacity possibility of what, in away separates you from that belief, so that you are as it were you are no longer immersed I the belief, you are withdrawn from it, you have the possibility of rejecting the belief. One strong continuity with Husserl is S’s stress on consciousness. Husserl claims intentionality in this way as well. S’s idea is that this withdrawal that consciousness always involves is a separation from you yourself have been.
Something surprising about S’s claim and goes against what we ordinarily suppose, this freedom is deeply upsetting and disconcerting. S’s idea is that we would prefer to understand ourselves as determined and our discontent with our freedom is manifested in particular in the deep response of anguish. Talked last time about distinction between fear and anguish.
What we see is that this freedom that h wants to characterize as absolute is only one side one aspect to us. There are ways in which he takes back the absoluteness of this freedom as it goes on. Anguish plays a comparable role in S to anxiety in H so just as anxiety is this deeply troubling recognition of certain limits to our human condition, we avoid and flee into the condition of falling or inauthenticity and so far S anguish plays a similar a role and our response to that is not falling but bad faith. So, on pg 83 “reassuring myths….unity of the same conscious…flee in order not to know…flight of anguish is a mode of…” So, we are then at the same time both avoiding and the very notion of avoidance you are recognizing that which you are avoiding “flee it….bad faith”. Now, the next chapter of this part I is devoted to bad faith. And I want to turn to this section called patterns of bad fiath on page 96 and here we get
Remember He’s distinction between thrownness and projection and Sartre will use facticity and transcendence. So what now emerges, according to Sartre there are two fundamental aspects to us of our facticity is the extent to which we are fixed and determined, one of the ways S is trying to pull back from the absolute freedom. Facticity includes bodily characteristics, includes my past and what I have been and what I have not. Aspects of my facticity, aspects of me that are settled. Transcendence is freedom, ability to do and be something different form my path, becoming something more. Sartre’s claim now is ithat I have a contradictory and paradoxical structure as both of these. He uses the term BFI for human beings, each of us are BFI and we are distinct then from BII which is what things are. So, the way he wants to put is is that BII simply is what it is but BFI, by virte of being facticity and transcendence, has this contradictory structure which he says involves our being what we are not and not being what we are. It is this contradictory structure he thinks that makes bad fiath possible for us.

Idea is like this: we of course want to be consciousnesses, we want to be BFI but we also want to also have a kind of unitary and non-contradictory structure such as being in itself has. We want to be an in-itself being for-itself or a for-itself being in-itself. Somehow fuse our being consciousness and our having the self identity and unity that mere things have. And bad faith is going to involve trying to find ourselves as unitary and non-contradictory either in our facticity or in our transcendence. And, as it were, ignoring the other one so that we can just be our facticity or just our transcendence.

• Consciousness
o For Sartre, consciousness is always intentional and is always directed upon an object. Consciousness is consciousness of something and because it is always directed upon an object, consciousness is not of anything other than its object.
o Pre-reflective cogito
o At the same time, consciousness is also conscious of itself. All consciousness is self-conscious. However, this self-consciousness cannot be an explicit awareness of knowing because it would lead to an infinite regress. To be self-conscious or conscious of myself, I would need to be conscious of being conscious of myself and so on. To avoid this problem of infinite regress, Sartre claims that all of consciousness’ intentionality presupposed consciousness of the self but this presupposed consciousness is an underlying, pre-reflective self-consciousness that is always beyond the phenomenon that consciousness is directed upon. Phenomena is the what intentionality is directed upon. Self-consciousness must be outside and beyond this intentionality and be directed upon something that is not phenomenon. Thus, Sartre concludes, the being of consciousness is an emptiness, a directedness upon something which has no content. It is by this directedness that it is possible for us to see consciousness at all.
o Example: I am conscious of this table. I am conscious of myself as conscious of this table and thus, I am conscious of myself, because of my consciousness of this table, as something different from this table.
o Being-in-itself – Being-in-itself simply is. It is
o Being-for-itself
o Consciousness as nothingness
 According to Sartre, the activity of questioning involves a double negation. On one hand this questioning negates the object in question by holding it between being and non-being. Given that by questioning we are interested in the relation between BII and BFI, our questioning of this relation suspends the relation between being and non-being. This suspension or negation of the relation we are questioning is possible only by way of what Sartre terms a nihilation. The question’s “nihilating withdrawal” from the question makes the negation of the thing in question possible.
• Absolute Freedom
o Bad faith as a vacillation between facticity and transcendence
o Facticity
o Transcendence
• Absolute freedom being consistent with facticity aspect of bad faith
o Facticity as the ways I am conscious of myself as being
o Situation in which we are not free??
Sartre’s Goal and the Pre-reflective Cogito

In “Being and Nothingness,” Jean-Paul Sartre discusses the relation between consciousness and the objects in the world which consciousness is directed upon. Sartre is interested in explicating the relation between our thoughts and experiences and the objects in the world those thoughts and experiences are directed upon. He refers to consciousness as “being-for-itself” and the objects of consciousness as “being-in-itself”. There are usually two standard philosophical interpretations of the relation between being-for-itself and being-in-itself. On one hand, realism claims that a dualism exists between consciousness and the real intended objects in the world. On the other, idealism treats the intended objects of consciousness as merely the contents of consciousness and not as real objects in the world. Sartre wants to avoid these two understandings of the relation between being-for-itself and being-in-itself in order to find a middle ground between realism and idealism.

Sartre approaches the relation between being-for-itself and being-in-itself by first examining our experience of negativity in the world. He makes the claim that we can only experience negativity because of the fundamental nothingness that belongs to the nature of consciousness. This nothingness that is inherent in consciousness as being-for-itself is in tension with being-in-itself. But it is only because of the nothingness of being-for-itself that being-in-itself as phenomena can appear to us at all. More importantly, according to Sartre, we experience absolute freedom because nothingness is fundamental to the nature of consciousness.

In order to make clear Sartre’s claim that nothingness is fundamental to the nature of consciousness, I will first present Sartre’s account of consciousness. Sartre writes, “All consciousness is…consciousness of something. This means that there is no consciousness which is not a positing of a transcendent object” (11). In other words, consciousness is always intentional and always directed upon some object in the world. Consciousness exhausts itself in this intentional directedness and is of nothing more than its intended object. In fact, Sartre claims, there can never be consciousness that is not of its object in the world. Moreover, consciousness is also self-conscious or directed upon itself. While Sartre believes all intentionality presupposes self-consciousness, he does not believe self-consciousness can also be treated as intentional. To treat self-consciousness as such would be to create an infinite regress. For example, suppose I am conscious of a piggy bank on my desk in that I have experiences and thoughts of the piggy bank as an object in the world. According to Sartre, my consciousness of this piggy bank presupposes a self-consciousness: I am conscious of my being conscious of the piggy bank. But, because this self-consciousness is directed upon my consciousness of this piggy bank, its intentionality presupposes that I am also conscious of my self-consciousness. In order to be conscious of the piggy bank, I would need to be conscious of myself being conscious of myself being conscious of the piggy bank and so on. To avoid this infinite regress, Sartre posits an underlying, pre-reflective self-consciousness. This pre-reflective self-consciousness has no intentional objects and is, therefore, directed upon something outside and beyond the intended objects of consciousness. Finally, Sartre believes that the pre-reflective self-consciousness reveals the being of consciousness as something always outside and beyond the object of its intentionality. He concludes that consciousness

However, Sartre goes on to make the unintuitive claim that this absolute freedom is so deeply disconcerting that we would actually prefer not to have it. Our response to the disconcerting nature of absolute freedom is anguish. Anguish can be characterized as a constant vacillation between our facticity and our transcendence

The general issue in the introduction is the relationship between consciousness, thought or experience and the real things that consciousness is of, intends or is directed upon. He has a large scale ambition to answer this question while avoiding the two standard options for addressing these issues: realism (dualism of appearance and reality like Descartes), or some form of realism (treats real things as contents of minds, contents of consciousness, Barkley takes). Sartre is trying to find some middle ground, some way of avoiding both of these answers and what he is trying to do is refer to consciousness as being-for-itself and to the real things that consciousness if of being-in-itself. Introduction sets up the problem of understanding the relationship between these two things that avoids realism and idealism.
Part I – Sartre takes a very surprising starting point and the starting point is our experience of lack, negativity in the world. He is going to raise the puzzle of how it is possible for us to experience the absence of things and going to argue that these experiences of negativity are only possible because of a more fundamental nothingness that belongs to the nature of consciousness (BFI). So there is a nothingness to consciousness, clarifies the tension between being (BII) and on the other hand nothingness of BFI. One of the things that we are going to get a grip on is in what sense is consciousness supposed to be a nothingness. It is only because that cosnciousness is a nothingness that phenomeona can appear to us at all. The most important consequence of consciousness as a nothingness is that we are absolutely free.

We get a sense of how Sartre begins with a Husserlian pheonomenology but then wants to abandon it. He agrees with Husserl that consciousness is always intentional, meaning by that it is always directed upon some object and this object as in the world in the way that we saw H say it. Pg 9. So, consciousness is an intentional directedness upon objects which transcends beings in the world. Now, Sartre’s claim is that consciousness exhausts itself in this directedness, it is not of anything other than its object. Consciousness must also in some other sense always be conscious of itself too. All consciousness he says is self-consciousness. Pg 11 bottom. So, consciousness then is always of an object but consciousness also has to be in some sense of itself. However, he says, this self-consciousness can’t itself be intentional, cannot be an explicit awareness or knowing of consciousness. Because if it were It would begin an infinite refress. In order to be conscious of myself, I would need to be conscious of myself and so on and so forth. Idea is that: Sartre claims that all intentionality presupposes consciousness of self. But then we can’t treat that consciousness of self as a form of intentionality because it leads to infinite regress. Now, to avoid this regress Sartre says we have to suppose an underlying and pre-reflective self-consciousness and this pre-reflective self-consciousness is not separate (?) from the consciousness of the object. Pg 15 he says it in a metaphorical way “self-consciousness…” Now it is in this pre-reflective self-consciousness that we are given the being of consciousness and this being is always therefore transphenomenal. It is always something that goes beyond or is independent of the phenomenon itself. Here is a phenomenon, what intentionality is directed upon, this self-consciousness must be somehow outside or beyond our intentionality. It is must be directed upon something that is not any phenomenon and this going to get him part way towards where he wants to be, the conclusion that being of consciousness is a peculiar emptiness or transparency given to us not by an intentional directedness upon it but as it were behind our backs so to speak, directedness on something that has no content and is not phenomenon. And it is only by this directedness that ourselves that it is possible for us to be conscious of phenomenon at all.

This self-consciousness can’t itself be intentional, can’t be explicit knowing of the object. If it were, that would begin a infinite regress. In order to be conscious of my self, I would need to be conscious of myself, I would need …Sartre’s claiming that all intentionality presupposes consciousness of self but that means we can’t treat that consciousness of self as a form of intentionality. To avoid this regres, we have to suppose an underlying and pre-reflective self-consciousness and this pre-reflective self-consciousness is not very separate in a metaphorical way on page 15…Sartre thinks that it is in this prereflective self-consciousness that we are given the being of consciousness and this being is always therefore transphenomenomal, always something that goes beyond or is independent of the phenomenon itself, phenomenon is what intentionality is directed upon. This self-consciousness must be outside and beyond this intentionality, directed upon something that is not any phenomenon.

Sartre’s goal is to find a middle ground between idealism and realism in the relation between being-in-itself and being-for-itself. Being-for-itself is consciousness – talk about that more here, the pre-reflective cogito.

Consciousness as Nothingness

He begins addressing this relation by examining the very question of asking what it this relation is. He examines the attitude of this question and claims that this attitude involves the negation of the thing being questioned as well as the negation of the questioner’s relation to the thing being questioned. BII is fully positive and in order to introduce any negation, consciousness must step back from itself, make a nihilating withdrawal from the causal nexus of BII. By removing consciousness from the causal nexus, consciousness is absolutely free. Performing this nihilating withdrawal means that consciousness is able to step back from the object that it is conscious of but this nihilating withdrawal can’t itself be part of the cause and effect order of the being-in-itself. Thus, nothingness is absolute freedom. The origin of nothingness, a crucial section because it is here that S explains nothingness in consciousness that permits experience of negativities. So, “we return then to the activity of questions…” This involves a double negation, on the one hand this questioning negates the thing questioned by holding it between being and non-being. WE’re interested in the relation between these and we are questioning the relation between these and we suspend this relation between being and non-being/ This suspension is possible only by way of a kind of nihilation and this is what he calls the questioner’s nihilating withdrawal from the question. So, the point here is something like this: on its own BII is fully positive in its existence. BII is a network of causes and effects and any element in that series of causes and effects has to be what it is in order ot play its role in that system of causes and effects. S’s idea would be that it is only by consciousness pulling back, withdrawing or detaching itself from thi causal nexus that is BII, that consciousness is able to introduce any negation into the positivity of BII. Pg 58 “from the very fact…” this, in a very fw words, is S’s argument that consciousness must involve a freedom from the universal determinism. It seems to be a very sketchy argument. What is distinctive of consciousness, consciousness is a consciousness of something other than itself, in order to be a consciousness of something it has to pull itself back from that which it is of. That is what he means by a nihilating withdrawal, claim is that this withdrawal that allows consciousness to be of its objects can’t itself be explained as one more cause or one more effect in the causal order of things. His claim then is that by the very logic of consciousness as a consciousness of something, consciousness must be free. This is the being of human beings. This nothingness which is also our freedom. Pg 60 “Human freedom precedes essence….essence is suspended in freedom….freedom impossible…” So, existence precedes essence, existence for S being this …consciousness. It is only on the basis of this withdrawal that is possible for us to attribute any particular content to ourselves, any essence.

Absolute Freedom and Facticity

Our absolute freedom causes us to be in anguish and we respond to anguish by falling into bad faith. Bad faith is the vacillation between facticity and transcendence. This appears to be inconsistent with Sartre’s claim that we all have absolute freedom by virtue of the nothingness that is consciousness.

Cramming.

This is nowhere he has not been before. The clock ticks slowly to fifteen minutes to four. Florescent lights belie the passage of time. The world moves without him and is cryogenically frozen in a meeting room on the lower level of his library. His Macbook hums as he scrapes the bottom of his empty cranium for creativity. He has not put words on paper, attempted to fill a black canvas with words and nothing more in so long the sound of his own typing feels foreign, alien his own craft has become. There is panic in the clatter of his illuminated black laptop keys: has he lost it? What is it? The dry erase board is smeared with the remnants of marker, fuzzy smears of color left behind by erasers, pushed side to side on the greying board by the eraser, light as a feather. He is starting to abuse clichés. He wants to run off a cliff but the coffee has made him weak, subdued by still functioning, a zombie slowly losing his humanity.
Where is she?
Kiss me, she whispers, her breath tickling the fine hair of his ears, sending a small shiver down his back. Kiss me, she pulls at this shirt collar gently, a trail of her scent where her fingers touch him. Make love to me, she brushes her nose against his and he feels her warm breath on his lips.

So full…

He’s confused, for a moment, paused on the edge of a perilous cliff, a decision that could change his life or, one that may not. But, he doesn’t know for sure. The fear building in the pit of his stomach, the overwhelming tidal wave of sick desperation he feels is inevitable and unrelenting. She is clueless to his terror, waiting, eyes fixated on his erection. She offered to give him a blowjob after class, a thoughtless gesture on her part. There are no consequences in her book, only what happens and at what cost the future is bridged to the present is not her concern: she was bored and horny and she wanted to blow him.
The teacher’s lounge is empty. Shadows of trees dance in the squares of afternoon sunlight cast through the window frame. A brown stain mars the pasty green and grey symmetry of the linoleum tiles where last winter the old coffee pot cracked open like a ripe melon, bleeding cheap ground coffee on the floor when it slipped out of her hand. Those clumsy hands with manicured fingernails where the chalk fills every crevice of her skin, outlining her fingerprint, those clumsy, chalky hands grabbing at his dick.
I can’t focus. I feel like crying and I keep listening to this song. Over and over again and her voice gets me every time and she makes me want to cry. I want to go to Princeton. I don’t feel like I’d fit in there. I’m so scared. I’m so sad. I can’t think of anything. Don’t forget me. I’ll remember.

He’s confused, for a moment, paused on the edge of a perilous cliff, a decision that could change his life or, one that may not. But, he doesn’t know for sure. The fear building in the pit of his stomach, the overwhelming tidal wave of sick desperation he feels is inevitable and unrelenting. She is clueless to his terror, waiting, eyes fixated on his erection. She offered to give him a blowjob after class, a thoughtless gesture on her part. There are no consequences in her book, only what happens and at what cost the future is bridged to the present is not her concern: she was bored and horny and she wanted to blow him.
The teacher’s lounge is empty. Shadows of trees dance in the squares of afternoon sunlight cast through the window frame. A brown stain mars the pasty green and grey symmetry of the linoleum tiles where last winter the old coffee pot cracked open like a ripe melon, bleeding cheap ground coffee on the floor when it slipped out of her hand. Those clumsy hands with manicured fingernails where the chalk fills every crevice of her skin, outlining her fingerprint, those clumsy, chalky hands grabbing at his dick.
I can’t focus. I feel like crying and I keep listening to this song. Over and over again and her voice gets me every time and she makes me want to cry. I want to go to Princeton. I don’t feel like I’d fit in there. I’m so scared. I’m so sad. I can’t think of anything. Don’t forget me. I’ll remember.

He’s confused, for a moment, paused on the edge of a perilous cliff, a decision that could change his life or, one that may not. But, he doesn’t know for sure. The fear building in the pit of his stomach, the overwhelming tidal wave of sick desperation he feels is inevitable and unrelenting. She is clueless to his terror, waiting, eyes fixated on his erection. She offered to give him a blowjob after class, a thoughtless gesture on her part. There are no consequences in her book, only what happens and at what cost the future is bridged to the present is not her concern: she was bored and horny and she wanted to blow him.
The teacher’s lounge is empty. Shadows of trees dance in the squares of afternoon sunlight cast through the window frame. A brown stain mars the pasty green and grey symmetry of the linoleum tiles where last winter the old coffee pot cracked open like a ripe melon, bleeding cheap ground coffee on the floor when it slipped out of her hand. Those clumsy hands with manicured fingernails where the chalk fills every crevice of her skin, outlining her fingerprint, those clumsy, chalky hands grabbing at his dick.
I can’t focus. I feel like crying and I keep listening to this song. Over and over again and her voice gets me every time and she makes me want to cry. I want to go to Princeton. I don’t feel like I’d fit in there. I’m so scared. I’m so sad. I can’t think of anything. Don’t forget me. I’ll remember.

Something from a blogger

I like her, she’s just a horrible bitch. And sometimes I really want her to fuck off and die. I think it’s because I’m a teenager and she’s my mother. You know what? To hell with this crap: I just hate her. I swear to fucking god, I want to kill her. What the hell is her damn problem? Why the fuck does she insist on being such an irrational bitch?
I’m fed up with this shit. God, every single fucking time she has a damn problem she gets pissed and suddenly it’s my problem. I’m the fat fucking piece of shit and you can’t seem to shut the fuck up about it.
Fuck you and your inability to publish your paper. Fuck you and all of damn work problems. Leave me the hell out of your damn fucking life. Fuck you, you don’t know what’s going on. Fuck you. I swear to god, I don’t care you’re my damn mother. You suck as a parent! You need to go eat shit and die. I hate you. FUCK YOU LADY, YOU WITH YOUR FUCKING STICK UP YOUR ASS. YOU ARROGANT SON OF A BITCH. GO. AND. DIE. ASSHOLE.
I don’t ever want to see her again. I don’t ever want to hear her voice, her broken English and bad grammar, her mispronunciations, her stupid remarks and her damn laugh. Every about her, sometimes, just irritates me. I don’t know why I have to deal with this crap. And life goes on, blah blah blah. I honestly think I stay in this house and put up with this because my computer is here, my TV here and all the rest of my crap. If it weren’t for the internet and the PC, I’d pack up and leave and never come back. I don’t think I’d make to sixteen, honestly I don’t want to. So much shit in this world and I don’t even get anything out of it. I go to school, I come back, I do it again the next day, I get nothing. I waste my life striving against millions of other people and I’m sure as hell not the one to come out on top. My life, all of this random trauma and emotional angst leads nowhere, I’m a small fucking bleep on the face of earth and when I die, and people forget about me, I’m gone. I’ve never existed even, my existence is so petty and insignificant, I hate even trying. I want to live like a pig, no superfluous thoughts about my being, I don’t even care about my being. I want food, sleep and entertainment. Scratch that, just food and sleep and for the rest of the world to leave me the fuck alone. And then when I get bored, I’m going to go and die. And see what death is like. If it’s just darkness, I’m going to like it. I hate the world, you know that? Because of all these little things that I can’t do right to fight into the human world, I’m fat, I’m ugly, I’m lazy and I’m stupid and I’m just retarded. The world is retarded. I hate this place. I don’t have anything worthy of trying, I have no skills, no talents, my friends, save for a few, are fucking assholes. My mother calls me a piece of shit, it’s my mother, ahaha….I love this place, I swear to fucking god, I want to nuke the planet and just laugh when everyone dies. People are annoying, I dislike people in general. They’re selfish, greedy and assholes. Every single fucking one of them, save for a few, are just so damn annoying. They need to, first off, shut the hell up and die. Among other things….I. want. To.die. blah. Fuck life.
There’s a place in Spain, according to Morgan, that lets people smash up used electronics. Stress relief, I want to go there because all of the electronics in this house are functioning and I don’t want to smash up anything.
People need to fuck off and leave me alone.
And the stupid thing, the really stupid fucking thing, I didn’t do any fucking thing to any of them. Nothing, I’ve said nothing to her, I did nothing to her so why the fuck is she such a bitch? If she didn’t like me, if she hates me why the fuck am I still around? WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU YOU BITCH!?
I don’t want to see her, hear her or even remember her. I don’t want to stay here anymore. I don’t understand what’s so good about parents. She’s never made me feel fucking happy ever. I hate all of you. I hate this. I want to kill everyone.
No one’s ever made me feel so fucking miserable.
The only reason I think I’m still alive is because I’m just too damn scared to kill myself. I have no friends, my family hates me, what the hell do I live for? Nothing, no one, not even myself because I think I want to die. And I’d sure as hell hurt a lot less on the inside if I died, but when it comes down to it, I’m just scared. I haven’t felt a real fucking thing since I was seven and I left China and cried because I didn’t want to leave. What was that feeling? Sadness? I don’t even fucking remember. I’ve felt about two things since then, anger and annoyance, possibly irritation. I hate everything. What’ve I been doing for seven fucking years? Hating every single goddamn thing, ever. I’ve never liked anything, I can’t like anything. I’m so fucked up and selfish. There are people out there in worse situations than this, but at least I’m under the impression that they can feel emotions. That despite all of their suffering, I think they can feel happy. I’m not fucking happy. I’ve never been happy. Nothing makes happy ever. I want to die. I’m dying as I live, yes I fucking am. Fuck all of this, why the hell do you want to live so much? It’s pointless, it’s so fucked up beyond recognition. FUCK EVERYTHING.
I want a lock on my door, so she can stop barging in her and annoying me. I never want to see her again. I never want to hear her speak. I don’t even want memories of her. I want to erase her being from my life. I’d rather be an orphan than have to endure her crap. She does not love, she doesn’t even like me, yet I must live with her because she gave birth to me. I hate this debt I have. I hate being indebted to such a person. She doesn’t give a shit about anything. I want her to stop fucking everything up. I want her gone. I hate her. Spare me the morals and the ethics and all that crap people made up, spare me. I hate her.
I can’t say I want her dead, I just want to my affiliation, my association with said person to end. To terminate. So that in the near future, I won’t be doing this, so in the near future I can come a little bit closer to being happy. Or at least more content with my life than now.
Fuck it, I just want to die. I hate being alive. It’s done me no good whatsoever.

Today was the first day of my summer test prep school. I wasn’t too excited about the whole thing. I woke up at seven, left at eight, got off the seven train and took the escalator up at the Roosevelt Ave. exit around nine thirty, an hour early. There’s a tent set up behind the school to give out class schedules. I went there, left with an hour to kill. There was this old lady, well maybe not old but mid fifties, house wife type, severe, almost incoherent Chinese accent. Her kid, one Jeffrey Wang, a moderately tall Chinese kid (like the rest of us,) nothing to write home about, was taking the same courses I was, SAT prep. He wasn’t in any of my rooms, I overheard. He’s in T,Z,Z, Kevin showed me my schedule, S, X, X, surprisingly he remembered my name. I’ve been going to Mega for the past five years, I’d be even more surprised if he didn’t know.

I walked around Flushing for an hour. Just in big circles, up and down blocks. Stopped by a bakery near the seven train, bought iced coffee for a dollar twenty five, I think. I was tempted to go and get Starbucks, but some remote, usually inexpressive and subdued part of me decided cheap, poisonous (according to my mother) Chinese bakery coffee was what I wanted. I got what I asked for, cheap Chinese iced coffee. There’s something to it, just being normal.

Went back to the tent place, no one’s there. I asked out loud if I was still too early, everyone heard me, no one listened. So, I sat and waited in a beige folding chair under the white tent canopy for about five minutes. This teacher’s assistant, TA, came out with the schedules. Suffering from an overwhelming Chinese accent he handed them out. Rooms, S, X, X, I already knew that. Writing, Math, English, 12:30~3:30, Monday through Friday.

I wasn’t really looking forward to Mega this year. My friend, Tina, who for the past three years, had gone to Mega with me wasn’t going this year. This kid named Gleb, who I had a completely, for a lack of better words, fubar relationship with wasn’t going to be there, that was a plus. My mother signed me up for SAT prep, I somewhat volunteered for it. Sitting around all summer with nothing to do, in the end, is detriment to my deteriorating mind.

My other friend, Linda, well to be honest, I never truly liked Linda much. Sometimes, granted, her company was somewhat enjoyable, but I’ve always tried to be an arm’s length away from her. I never really liked people like Linda. I don’t even remember how we became friends. My, possibly mistaken memory, is that she just latched onto me since we take the same train home. To be honest, part of the reason I never truly liked her, was because I’m somewhat jealous. Almost, but then I tell myself that I don’t want what she has. I like what I have, but sometimes, I can’t help but admit that I want to be a dimwit, I want a size four body, I want some random junior to come and hit on me. She always tells me that guys hit on her. It use to bother me, because guys don’t look at me, but it stopped. Old guys on subways, ugly Asian kids, perverts on the street in Flushing hit on her. It’s disgusting and somewhat disturbing that she finds pride in these things. I guess I would too if they hit on me, but that’s what I tell myself to feel better.

And she also has this whole thing for Harry Potter and England. I’m not sure if I resent her obsession, or just plain don’t give a shit about it. Harry Potter is, frankly, not worth my time. Eight hundred pages of nothing important, nothing deep, nothing that’s going to teach me anything, nothing I can appreciated. In any case, Harry Potter fandom is a level beyond stupidity, a level beyond anything. It’s horrendous, it’s overrated, it’s unnecessary, it kills everything about Harry Potter that I might’ve found enjoyable. I also dislike Linda’s accent and her constant need to pick on people. She doesn’t like anyone. She can’t like anyone.

Honestly, she’s a bitch. I hate that she’s a bitch and only sometimes do I even come close to being okay with her. I’m a good liar, excellent in fact. I’ll keep it this way, because I’d like a friend this summer, even if it’s a false friend. I’m desperate, I’m desperate.

Writing class was a bit of a bore. SAT I is just entering my radar, bleeping on the outer edges, fading in and out, a shadow that flickers with the changing light. I’m trying to avoid it, it’s there though, it follows me and I’d have to come to terms with it sooner or later. Better sooner, but I’m hoping for later. Mr. Haag, never had Mr. Haag. There’s a random black kid, Allen in our class. Mega is made for Asian parents to send their Asian kids to so they can get into Stuy, so they can get into Harvard or some other Ivy League. Sprinkled among the Chinese are some Indians, Koreans and maybe a Japanese guy. Gleb was the only white guy and this Allen kid is the only black. I’m not being racist, or maybe I am, but that’s how it is in Mega. We crack racists jokes, it’s comes with an understanding that it’s just a joke. People who can’t take things in jest annoy me.

We had some writing prompt, “Is it true that the strong do as they wish?” accompanied by a quote from a random philosopher who sounded Greek, “Justice is just the interest of the stronger.” I personally thought that it was the most ridiculous prompt. It was just plain dumb, but to get into Harvard, I was going to have to bullshit my way through 300-350 words regarding this topic. I’m disappointed, and maybe relieved and worried, all at the same time.

After writing was lunch break, thirty minutes and I went to meet Linda. I was going to have lunch with these two girls I met earlier. Linda kept on calling them fobby and after we got, I walked Linda back to Mega to get her schedule. She was in different rooms than me. She had a whole fit, I’m actually glad. This limits the amount of time I’d have to see her to make the times I do bearable. It’d be alright if she was in my class, I wouldn’t mind, but it’s calmer without.

Math class, math class was just math. A whole bunch of Stuy sophomores, soon to be juniors, were in my math class. One kid named Ray, who isn’t too bright, is in all three of my classes. Mr. Gong was our teacher. I’ve had Mr. Gong once, for something or another and he was interesting, funny little man. He spoke fast and messed up often and when he did, a bit of a hidden Chinese accent that I think we all suffer from, English being our second language, slipped through. He went on a whole rant about how terrible Spiderman 3 was and I had to agree. He then talked about how gym teachers earn just as much as a math teacher, extra if they coach a team. I thought that was funny. When were going over the classwork, I didn’t know the answer to my question, so I asked Ray, who surprisingly gave me the correct answer. After answering, Ray raised his hand to ask Mr. Gong for the answer to the question he, himself, just gave me the answer to. He’s not very bright.

English class was a monumental bore. It’s vocab, sentence completion and reading comprehension. English teachers are marvelously weird and some of them even deserve to be called ‘cool’, rarely is that the case. This, Ms. Mare, a blond woman of average height, dressed in a transparent white, frilly blouse, with a black tank top under, struck me as a very personable, yet strange person. She told us to bring in reading material and index cards to build up our vocabulary. Silly thing was, I had both a book and an index card in my bag. I like reading with a scrap of people to jot down words I’m not sure of, habit.

Judging from this introduction to SAT prep this summer, the only thing I’m truly concerned about is Math and possible grammar parts. Math, I just have to pay attention in math, I never do well in math. I’m hoping my English makes up for it, even in English, I’m not too good. Also, looking at the people in my class, there is but one okay looking guy. The thing about spending your summer with Asians, your chance of having a summer fling is nonexistent. They are ugly and just…ugly. The one that looked moderately normal moved from Ohio to Jersey, name’s Danny.

Train ride home with Linda, boring. Picked up keys from mom, boring. Didn’t have to go to the lab for work since Dr. Rifkind was on vacation, excellent. Went home, did homework, watched Saikano. And that’s where my whole day and being fell apart at the seams for the several hours I spent watching Saikano.

I honestly don’t know why made me feel the way I did. There was just something so painful and stark and candid and sweet and beautiful. I wept, I wept, from episode ten to the end. The deaths, the people just kept on dying and you wanted to hold on to them like a flame in the wind. You wanted them to live, you wanted them to live. And their love, Chise and Shuji,

There’s nothing I can really say, it was so stupefying, so powerful, like a tsunami it hit me.

I haven’t felt like that in a while, maybe it was the first time. The first time I lost a total sense of self and watching the animated characters across my computer screen, I felt like my heart was bleeding, small droplets oozing out of a pinprick hole in my heart.

Why is it all so pointless? I have I truly nothing but my own mind, my own imagination, my own flawed consciousness? Is the end of the world the edge of the mind? Is reality not what’s tangible but the ether from which our thoughts are born? Is there nothing real in this world, nothing real but me? Have I only myself to rely on? Is love just a figment of that mind, an illusion created to maintain some semblance of connection to another person? Or is it real. Is love the real end of the world?

“We will love. We will live.”

It’s not even New Years yet, in fact, quite far from it, but I’m feeling strangely resolute and determined. I’m not sure what’s the source of this new found…urge and necessity to bring about change, but I’m going to act on it. Perhaps, it’s my encroaching birthday and the feeling that I’ve been wasting my life doing nothing. So anyways, here’s to gradual change…

The trivial issues…
running and keeping my anime blog, nirai kanai over on WordPress, hosted by animeblogger.net.watch a lot more anime. I suppose I’d have to, in order to run the blog, but I feel like I’ve been ignoring my hobby lately, so time to pick it up again.
leveling up on MapleStory. I’ve dropped MapleStory for well over a week, but I still want to bring my Chief Bandit up to level 80. And sometimes, I miss my friends on MS, silly.write a noteworthy fanfiction. This one is really silly and it’s just me dreaming big. start writing a book, of sorts….I’ve been trying to write a book for the past four years. I’m still where I was four years ago, two sentences and maybe a third.actually prepare for the SAT I. I’m only a freshman, nothing to be worrying about, yet. Like the motto of my prep school, planning ahead is wise. Plan ahead I shall.loose weight. I’m ‘chubby’. Twitchy subject, my physical health, according to my mother and my total lack of a love life are both endangered by my weight. I’m in denial, completely, about this one.read. Schoolwork made me have no free time to read. I need a good book, a nice book, something I’m going to enjoy, should go to Barnes&Noble.
try not to screw up sophomore year. I’ve signed up for two APs and will end up taking a whole bunch of tests. I’m trying, trying for a 97 average. Big talker and hopeless dreamer right here, never going to happen, but at least I thought about trying.break at States, break at Villiger. This one I’m actually going for. ‘Break at States’ meaning breaking into the finals at the New York State Forensics Tournament, or Speech and Debate. Villiger is another big tournament. I don’t think I’d make it to Nationals, but I can dream. That aside, I’m going to come back next year with a damn plaque and trophy. I shall, mark my words.stop being a mindless, careless idiot. This won’t ever happen, can’t help it.and oh, yeah, get a boyfriend. I’m a total loser. Heh.

Well, it’s official, summer started. The fact that I’m at home around 11:13, thinking about seeing a movie at 1:30, having only ONE last test to worry about (the physics regents) is a true sign that the seasons are changing. I don’t care what Al Gore says about global warming affecting the weather, summer is summer. It’s here and damnit I want an ice cream.

And I’m still not sure exactly what I want to do with this blog….so…um….wait…XD

I’m apparently….going to blog. About what? I have no idea, my day to day journal? Maybe anime, who knows. lol

6/12/07 – 7/14/07

Should I write again?

He downloads this program that’s supposed to help him concentrate, eliminate all the distractions from his computer desktop, his Facebook messages and little instant message bleeps and bloops that pop up in the corner every now and then, everything. As he gives the cashier his brand new Bank of America credit card that, much to his girlfriend’s display, he cannot stop talking about and toying with, he wonders why the hell is he buying a second monitor.

I have to stop writing Roy and Riza fanfiction. I write nothing else. Its easy. All the hard work’s been done for you, the character development, the plot line. Everything. All I have to do is channel some of what used to be my pent up sexual frustration, loneliness and neediness into them and they come alive as puppets of my adolescent longings. Now what? I’m not exactly sexually frustrated anymore or lonely or needy. Okay, maybe I’m still needy, but at least I fixed the first two. In fact, now, I’m pummeled with more ‘real life’ stuff. Like, getting into law school. Like, what’s going to happen after I get into law school. How I’m going to survive three years grinding away at dense texts and competing like an animal against my much smarter peers, paying off a seemingly endless amount of debt just to get the damn degree, that maybe, maybe, I won’t even ever get to use because the economy is in a slump, there’s a recession going on and everyone’s getting fired and laid off and no one can find a goddamn job. Why does it have to be like this? I didn’t ask to be put here and I don’t see why I just have to shut up and live with it. Adapting is one thing but accepting this crap is another. I don’t want to master this crap either so don’t give me any of that, oh, just work harder and make something of yourself bullshit. I don’t understand that either. What the hell does it mean to make something of myself? In whose eyes am I something? In what way am I something? What qualifications, what degrees, what talents must I acquire to become this something? A Steve Jobs or Bill Gates? A Donald Trump or Rupert Murdoch? An Einstein or Oppenheimer? What? Do I need genius? Talent? Luck? I don’t know why I have to work so hard just to survive. What is surviving anyway? Why do I have this drive, why do we have this need? Why? Questions I’ll never have answers to, but doesn’t it mean something that I ask these questions? Does my curiosity not speak to some innate truth? Am I just copping out? Too lazy, too inept to deal with the harsh competition of life so I resort to midly fanciful, useless philosophical panderings in order to have some sense of self left to face the world with? Are these truly meaningless questions that we will never have answers to so we should just stop asking? Why do I feel so empty sometimes when I think about the world I am about to be swallowed by. This behemouth of tragedy, greed and evil, a perverted reflection of human nature that I am thrust upon to face and accept. The daily grind of work, of lethargy, boredome, dealing with people who are equally sickened by their situation, half-assed bullshit lives that no one wants to lead.

Maybe this is too depressing. A little too depressing. It used to be like this when I had no one and nothing in my, and I mean nothing, seemed good. I’d pine for days and weeks and months for boys who would never like me because I am fat. I would despair for days and weeks and months at my falling grades and lack of initiative in classes that will determine my future. But when you get past it all, looking back at it, how much of any of this really mattered? Very little, I guess. When white people had their social ups and downs in high school, I think most of us suffered from some kind of mental trauma of going to Stuy. Exhaustion is perhaps the best way of putting it and those with the drive and the fuel to make it past that succeed? Do they? Then again, what does it mean to succeed in the first place.

Say what you will about anime, but I’ll defend it to death. Honestly, there’s something about a good series that just stays with you and I mean, really stays with you. You hear the theme song, you think back to a certain a scene, a certain moment and it just gets you, deep down somwhere. Its like thinking about middle school and all of the days that you spent doing something meaningless and stupid with your friends but it was the best thing you could have ever done and maybe its generic, trashy and not as amazing as something more legitimate like science or whatever, and maybe it is a little bit creepy and the fandom is generally populated by fat people who like to dress up and fail at being their favorite characters, but deep down in there somewhere, there’s this feeling, this feeling that’s irreplaceable and doesn’t come from anything, anything else. It makes me want to run and keep running till I can’t run anymore and leap from a cliff into the invite world and embrace everything and hug everything and welcome anything and everything. I just had an ephiphany. Perhaps, this is joy. This very feeling. But its amazing and I can’t put it into words no matter how hard I try. It just makes me want to through myself from something large and tall and epic and feel the wind in my hair and ground fall away from me and let it all go.

There’s something about summer and the way the sky looks, the crisp blue with smidges of hazy white clouds flowing above a sea of green grass. Holding your friend’s hand and walking home in the half empty streets. Summers in anime are different from what they are here. You don’t feel the humid heat, you only see the colors and it looks amazing.

Crap: My Life

Weird Al Yankovich, in his 2006 hit song “White & Nerdy”, a parody of “Ridin’” by Charmillionare and Krayzie Bone, raps “Look at me I’m white n’ nerdy!/I wanna roll with-/The gangsters/But so far they all think/I’m too white n’ nerdy/Think I’m just too white n’ nerdy/Think I’m just too white n’ nerdy/I’m just too white n’ nerdy/Really, really white n’ nerdy”

If I had one word to describe the life of Oscar Wao, it would not be ‘brief’ and it would not be ‘wondrous’, it would just be ‘pathetic’. Granted, that word might be a little too harsh for dear ol’ Oscar, but think about it for a second: he is an obese, sexually frustrated, Dominican virgin, who spends most of his adolescent and adult life swimming in science fiction and table top role playing games, all the while failing, consistently, to get laid. He fails at pretty much everything; he fails so much he makes Ralph Nader look like a winner.

Being the fat kid sucks. It really does. If you’ve never been fat, you wouldn’t understand. Please don’t pretend and try placing yourself in a fat kid’s shoes. You’re lying to yourself. If your belly fat doesn’t jiggle when you walk,

I have cavities. It bothers me so much that I do. So much. Damnit.

Silence really takes its toll. It feels like someone drove a stake through the base of my skull and it’s stuck there and it won’t move.

The little fantasies are the best ones, the ones where we’re holding hands, walking down a dimly lit street lined with trees, against a calm, lukewarm summer breeze with the slightest hint of autumn. The ones where I’m lying in your lap on a picnic blanket, with the sun fading below the horizon, leaving a streak of bright, clear orange across the sky.

All I want to do is just be with you. I don’t care where I am, just as long as I can be with you.

Chances are someone out there, somewhere, is feeling the same thing you are. It feels like you’re about to dive off the edge of a cliff, like you’re about to scream, like you’re going to be heard for the first time, like you’re that tree, falling, in am empty forest, like you’re actually going to live this time, like you’ve finally found the tiniest shard of what you’ve been looking for this entire time. What’s the word I’m looking for here? Inspiration? Epiphany?

The City is quiet at night, amber tinted and still. The occasional swish of a taxi, the cackle of a drunkard stumbling out of a bar, the silence that follows consumes the city whole, like a snake biting its own tail.

You’re all that I think about, the perfume that lingers in the fabric of my clothes, the sound that echoes in the cavern of my memories. I want to be near you, to be filled with you past the point of breaking, to be pregnant with your warmth on a cold winter’s night.

She first encounters him in a supermarket, in the produce section by the potatoes and yams. He is hesitantly picking through a pile of green peppers, occasionally dropping one into a plastic bag. He does not appear to understand the distinction between one pepper and the next, but goes through the motions of mimicking produce selection regardless. He seizes another one from the pile and, with mute intensity befitting that of a snake encroaching upon its prey, he bites into the vegetable. She is alarmed by his actions, but says nothing and only glides past him to examine the tomatoes and celery. Her mind denies her the opportunity to escape and she finds herself watching him, perhaps out of curiosity, or perhaps some lonesome attraction that only the middle-aged feel towards others of their own kind.

Today is one of those days where she feels like having some peanut butter. Though she’s no great fan of the sticky paste, occasionally she craves a dollop or two on a slice of bread, or maybe some to dip a cracker or two in.

She wants to taste him, like breaking the skin of an apple and sinking her teeth into its flesh. 

She had lied to him that first night they were together. She had told him that she loved him, not because she did but because she read it somewhere (a John Updike novel, maybe) that

She tells him she loves him the first night they are together. It is a lie and they both know it. Yet, somehow this one lie makes all of it real. As she bends down, slowly, the uneven fringes of her hair breaking the calm of his face, like fishing lines rippling the surface of a pond, she sinks her lips into his and is surprised, briefly, at how soft his lips are. 

I think my mother tried too hard to get me involved in science and medicine. This Intel project is probably the culmination of years of her hard work, second only to my graduating from medical school. Except, at the end of this tedious, but thankfully brief venture, I’m convinced that research is not the right field of work for me.

I’m in love. I never imagined that this is how it would turn out to be, that he is who I would end up with, but it happened anyway.

I want to kiss his lips, press my breasts gently against his firm chest and feel his warmth. His little touches, fingertips trailing along my skin, like electricity, burn, destroy, ravage my senses. I want to feel him forever. The consummation of our love, the birth of sensation as our bodies touch, connected our bodies are, entangled, snared by threads of fate.

I hate it when I have to explain myself. To anybody.

I am a kitchen spatula. I have a long, plastic handle and a

The January air is cold, my breath fogs as I exhale in to my mittens. I’m intricately packed, like a snowman, under layers of clothes.

Growing up is like stripping in the cold. A child, my breath fogs in the air, I am wearing a thousand intricately packed layers of innocent naiveties. The temperature bites exposed skin and cold seeps in between the cracks of my person. Unaware, I am a snowman melting in the sun. Molded by hands other than my own, do I ever truly loose my shape when I pick myself up from the puddles of my youth? Or, do I have to deal with the fact that I am an amorphous blob, immobile, and constantly threatened by the occasional footfalls that step too close to my boundaries?

When I was eight, I wanted to be an astronaut. Space was fascinating, unconquered, possibly misunderstood by modern physics and absolutely merciless in its beauty and austerity. This childhood dream became nothing but a dream and, occasionally, when people learn that I dared to dream this simple dream, they scoff and wonder how I ever fooled myself into thinking I possess the mental and physical discipline that are demanded of astronauts. In all honesty, I just liked looking at the pictures.

When I was eight, I also watched my first episode of Cowboy Bebop. What made me stop channel flipping, and struggling with a remote control too large for my hands, was the fact that people were smoking in a cartoon. This has never happened before. Spongebob Squarepants never smoked cigarettes, neither did Patrick, or Squidward or even stingy Mr. Krabs! But, then again, Cowboy Bebop wasn’t really just a cartoon. Cowboy Bebop was the very essence of cool. If growing up was like stripping in the cold, late night cartoons took my gloves and chipped a crack in the layers of childhood naiveties.

The whole “I just liked looking at the pictures” thing really worked out for me. I became a great watcher of pictures, an avid lover of animation. Ironically enough, what made me grow up the most was something that most people deem childish.

Falling in love is like being addicted to drugs. God, you want it so much, you want it so much that it hurts when you have and it hurts more when you don’t. You know it’s bad for you but you just can’t give it up, it’s too good, it hurts too good, it feels too good.

I think it’s time I stop talking to him, because everyone is telling me not to, and time I start talking to my old friend, Microsoft Word.

The past two days, I’m not even going to try to explain the past two days. It’s going to be engrained in my memories for a long time anyway. The way my room was, my stiff pink sheets…his hipster jacket with the feminine buckles, the way his moans sounded so pained…

I hurt him so much. I hurt him so much. I’ve never heard a sound so pained and tortured in my life. I’ve never seen him cry so much and so openly. I know why he doesn’t want to be with me anymore. I know, because I’m the one who drove him to leave me. I’m the one who pushed too hard, too cruelly. He always came back though. In the end, I guess I was the one who took him for granted. I was the one who ruined everything. I miss him. I’m going to miss him terribly. My room is like a museum of our relationship. All of his gifts, all of them, the first and possibly the last, on my shelves, on my bed, reminding me of him.

I want to hold him again. I’d do anything to take everything back and start over again. I want to his lips. His lips, his soft lips, the bottom one a little bit bigger than the top, a little bit fatter than the top, the way it hangs open slightly when he’s sad, when he’s kissing me…

I want to cry. I’ve cried so much. My face stings, my eyes are poached. I can’t even really say how I feel because I’m afraid to feel it anymore. I’m afraid to touch the fear and the pain. I’m afraid to loose him anymore than I have already.

If I ever see him again, I want to kiss him, deeply. I want to hold him, and undress him slowly if he lets me. He probably won’t. He’s not the type. He’s going to push me away, avoid my hands, pin me down and tell me no. I’m still so in love with him. Even if I wanted to push him out of my mind, my heart, he comes back. His infectiously wide smile, his sad puppy dog eyes, his cheeks returning to their previous plump state…I miss him.

Everything was alright before I said those things. Everything would’ve been alright if I weren’t such an ass. It was pizza and it was a shitty chunk of cheese-covered broccoli. He waited for me after school. He gave me coconut pie from a Chinese bakery. We had Bon Chon chicken and walked to the subway at City Hall, bought a soda and took the train to 68th street. He talked about his internship, what he learned, the patients he saw and the dentists he worked with. We bought peanuts at the bus stop and walked to Cornell. There was some sort of hold up down between the avenues, so it was fortunate that we did not wait for the bus. I worked and around six we left. We took the cross town bus to Lexington and walked down to the fifties. We stopped by the dog kennel and looked at the puppies. We stopped by the pizza place and I wish I can go back and stop myself from going in. I wish I can just stop myself. I miss him. I’m in his shirt. I’m in the shirt he gave me. I believed everything. Everything. About us, our future…

Does it only hurt this much because he’s my first? Because it’s the first time I tasted the joy and pain of love? The first time I crawled into bed to feel someone else’s warmth? The first time someone kissed me and told me he loved me? Is that why it hurts so much when he signs off Skype suddenly and doesn’t return any of my calls? Is that why everything hurts so much….

I wish I can take everything back. I wish I can just stop before I said those things, before I did any of it. I am such an idiot. I am such an idiot.

I love him. I love him. I love him. I will always love him. He’s the only one I can’t let go.

Please don’t forget that Jeffy loves you.

How am I supposed to move on? How can I take anyone else but him? Please don’t leave me. I’d do anything. Anything. Sell my soul, cut my hair, give away a limb. Anything just to be with him even for just a day, a day.

I didn’t mean it for it to be our last night together. I didn’t mean it. I wish I can go back. I wish I can go back. I wish I can go back. I want to go back. Why isn’t my life like the movies? Everyone gets back together in the movies…

I can’t stay away. I can’t. Everyone tells me to wait. To let him go. I can’t. I’m not patient. I’m not. Please.

I miss him. I miss him so much. Come back. I don’t care how bad he is. I don’t care how bad it is. This hurts too much. 

Yeah, it really hurts. Breaking up. How much he doesn’t seem to care. How he can just hang up so easily and leave me. I hate him for it. I hate for making believe he gave a shit. I tried to walk out of it. I tried, way back when. But I loved him so much, I loved him so much. Do I still love him now? I can’t tell. I can’t feel anything anymore. I’m so numb on the inside. I’m tired of feeling something. Feeling pain, or whatever.

Today, I woke up around nine to a phone call from my boyfriend who, having just flown back from college for winter break, was waiting downstairs for me to open the door for him. We baked cookies all day and went out to eat and cuddled and kissed and fell asleep together.

Of course, none of this actually happened. In fact, he missed his flight and we broke up. I ended up baking no cookies and crying all day long. I am actually still crying because every time I stop and think about what happened, it makes me sad. Seeing my Facebook status makes me sad. My dad calling me makes me sad. The fact that he’s not here with me makes sad, but that’s the least compelling reason. I’m seriously just unable to feel, to emote. I can’t find the love I use to have for him, I can’t find any feelings I use to have for him at all. It’s just all gone and I feel so empty. But, strangely, I still feel sad. It’s as if I woke up from the wrong dream into this startlingly unhappy reality that is called my life. I wished for most of my teenage life for a boy to love me. And when one came along, I guess I wished too hard for reality to turn into fantasy. It’s like Icarus flying too close to the sun. I got burned, I guess? I pushed him too hard and too fast and the wax melted and I plummeted back into the crumbling relics of what I thought to be my long forgotten past. In short, I’m lonely, again.

He’s not picking up. I can’t work. I can’t function. Rather, I don’t want to function. This is a really good excuse to not work. That aside, I feel deflated and tired. I just want everything to go back to the way it was. 

Sometimes, I want to cry. I sit around and think about all the people and all the things we’ve done and then, in a little while, it wouldn’t even matter anymore. People, places, it would all just go away and melt, like memories generally would, in the back of my mind. I wish I can keep onto them forever. But it is difficult and I do not know how.

I want to live forever, even though I absolutely hate being alive. Perhaps, it is because I know I’m no constant fixture in the world and my existence is only temporary.

Strangely enough, I feel nothing. I feel neither sadness nor longing. I am apathetic.

I deserve most of it, don’t I? I was being an ass and well, this is what I get.

Sometimes, it feels like people will never understand me. And, when I try to explain myself to people, they’ll look at me like I’m silly, childish, immature. After all, the source of my passions, my joys is an under-appreciated art form that might not even be an art form. Aside from my budding, somewhat but most definitely serious, romantic relationship of one and a half years, what really gets me going, what really makes me feel alive, what really ties me to down to filthy, sordid earth and keeps me going at night is anime.

Think about it, when colleges ask me to elaborate on one of my interests, who is going to know what the hell ‘anime’ is? And, the real question is: who’s going to take me seriously when I mention I spend hours upon hours watching, oogling, crying at some animated Japanese hoopla? No one.

So, where does that leave me? After watching something so damn epic, something so beautiful, all I can do is tell it to my word document. Is there really no hope for a person like me? Is there really no hope for those trying to escape the unbearable miseries of their own lives? Probably not.

Sometimes, I want to cry because something in life just can’t be explained in words. I feel like everything will be alright. It’s just a thirty minute anime series, but it feels like it solved every single problem I’ll ever face in life, just as long as I can remember how epic, how motherfucking epic it was.

I love Roy Mustang. Goddamn how good it was. Damn damn damn damn, it was like, like, everything! At once!

Goddamn, it was so damn good. I love Roy Mustang. God fucking damn…

I’m a hopeless insomniac. I’m afraid of losing time, sleeping and waking up too late to do anything worthwhile. I’m afraid of waking up, waking up to a world I didn’t really want to be in. So, what am I to do? In the middle of the night, when the world is quiet and the air is cold. Shall I sleep, or not? To sleep or not to sleep? To which beckoning call do I answer? The lure of sleep, safety, ignorance or the wakeful pains of a morbid reality?

If I could, I would give my life up for him. He makes me forget everything, forget all the things that plague my life. I just want to curl up with him and surrender myself to this feeling, this feeling of safety, comfort, love. Is it a weakness that I am displaying, a secret yearning for security, defenselessness towards loneliness?

What should I write? What do I write? For whom….

It hurts a lot to be a part from him.

He sits at the foot of the bed, moonlight spilling onto his back. The patterns on his boxers are faded and the material is soft, worn from repeated washing. The sheets slope gently toward his form, like ridges on an alien landscape. They are a muted shade of blue, but appear dull gray in the moonlight. His shoulders are broad, wide, folding inwards like a jacket slung over a chair, misplaced and tired. He is unaware of her watchful gaze, her mental narration of his present appearance, of his thinning hair made all the more apparent by a short haircut, of the tiny pink volcanoes that landmine his skin, of the skin folds in his stomach when his sits hunched like he does now. She wonders why he does not come back to her side of the bed.

She reaches out to him, her arms catching him by the waist, drawing him closer to her. A rush of heat moves back and forth between their bodies until it settles, like ripples on a lake, equally between their two forms. Her cheek presses against his back, her fingers stroke the fine muscles of his chest, firm and taut beneath skin like the muscular fibers of a race horse. She hears the hollow whisper of his breath.

Gently, he strokes the faint hair on her arm. 

She’s always right. I hate to admit it, but, she’s always right. People have priorities. I don’t have any. People put themselves first. I put people first. It’s such a problem. It’s such a problem.

What I honestly can’t understand about this whole is why it even matters if he says yes or no now. How much of a difference can it possibly make? It’s practically the same time every year, the same month, the same place. It’s only one night, one motherfucking night and he can’t manage to find the time for that? One night! Am I asking him to move to Florida with for the rest of our lives? No! Am I asking for him to take a month off and not doing anything except be with me? No! Am I asking too much of him? Am I asking too much, too early? We’ve been talking about this since, like, what, since the first prom that we went to together? Like, what the fuck. WHAT THE FUCK CAN POSSIBLY HAPPEN BETWEEN NOW AND PROM!? Seriously. It’s just Thanksgiving. He planned it, he pushed for it and the day before he drops out. Why? Because he has an interview. Why? What the fuck is this shit? Holy fuck. His parents are fucking annoying as shit and even worse, he persistence to do as they say even as their actual presence in his life dwindles. Worse than all of these aforementioned infractions is the fact that I’m constantly the one losing, in every fucking scenario. His fucking parents are just that goddamn important. Going home is so goddamn important. Dude, you’re like bigger than them! Holy fuck. It’s like, I have some sort of a place in life and it’s the worst fucking place. I’m stuck in a long distance relationship that pains me to no end. I have to not only work and study for the next two decades to even begin earning a living, but I also have to wait for him to find his way in the world, wait for him to be a dentist or something and even then, I probably will not get to spend any time with him because we will both be working individuals. How much does this situation fucking suck? What do I get out of this? Eating his food? Video chat? Winter breaks and summer vacations? What the fuck! He even has an internship this winter break. So much for seeing him, at all. I mean, this is my last year in high school. I thought it’d be nice but apparently this is the busiest fucking year for him in college. Fuck this shit, I don’t care if I sound like a whiny bitch. Fuck you people. Fuck everyone. I hate this shit. I hate this life. Nothing ever truly works out and I’m always stuck doing some stupid shit that fucks me over in the end. I’m not getting in a good college, I’m not getting anything. I have tests and more tests and classes to attend that teach me nothing, essays to write about myself for my second round of applications. I have a month to do what took me half a year to do for two colleges, but now for a dozen. It’s tragic. It really is. I want to kill myself. He doesn’t make it any better either. All I do is just waiting for him. Him, even he puts himself first. He who is so in love with me puts me second and puts his family, his career and everything else first. I know that’s what you’re supposed to do. I know that’s what my mother preaches. I know, I know, I know it’s the smart, right, proper thing. BUT FOR FUCK’S SAKE WHAT ABOUT ME!? Really, maybe it’s just me. Maybe it’s just me who lives not for myself but for everyone else. Me who lives for a few lingering emotions that I’m not capable of receiving because I’m fat and ugly and no one wants to squander their all too precious time doling it out to me. Maybe it really is just me. I hate being alive. It hurts. Even when you have someone to hold your hand and walk with you, it hurts. It hurts because he’s never here and when he, he’s always being taken away, for reason or another, for one thing or another, but it’s better this way for him. He’ll have experience working in a clinic, he’ll be a good boy and please his parents, he’ll be successful at whatever it is he planned on do. But why the hell am I always the second priority. It hurts when I put him below Intel, doesn’t it? It might really just be me. It is just me.

Some days, I just feel really drained. At the slightest emotional provocation, I loose the need to move, the need to continue doing whatever it was that I was doing. I don’t feel like living. It’s a small amount of pain that resonates across my chest, ripping through the tender connections between flesh and tissue. It hurts, emotionally, a jarring pain that doesn’t go away but intensifies with each pulse. I don’t want to live anymore. Yet, I can’t stop living. I want to see it through to whatever might be at the end.

What the fuck. I just wanted to fucking talk. To talk. To talk. Just talk. That’s all I wanted. I’m not happy

I’ve never been happy

This hurts so much. I don’t understand why it had to turn out like this. I hate him. I hate everything. I wanted to talk. I just wanted to talk. WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS. I don’t want to leave a message. I don’t want to leave a message…I can’t think. I have no ideas. My stomach hurts.

I’m very paranoid. Specially given the nature of his Skype statuses. On one hand, I trust that he is in fact sleeping. And on the other, I’m really afraid that he’s not. I’m not sure anymore. I love him and I hope he loves me. I’m so insecure and paranoid and afraid that he might be cheating on me. My nuunuu. My nuunuu is faithful to me. He loves me. He loves me. 

He’s never really given the future much thought, partly because a computer can read his short-term future to him with thirty-four percent accuracy

He’s never really given the future much thought. Partly because he hasn’t lost interest in the present, but mainly because he can always pay some back alley fortune teller to read him his near-future with, give or take, thirty to forty percent accuracy off a computer. Of course, the thirty to forty percent bit is a complete lie,

When the university pulled his funding and canceled his project, his first instinct was to place an ad in the Sunday papers.

Major Joseph Rigel had always been a little clumsy. He was not, as they’d say, officer material. How he even managed  his rank of major was a mystery to many in the military establishment.  

The day before her scheduled shuttle launch, Levin’s girlfriend bought him an android. She left it in his living room with a folded note tucked under one hand. From the mole hovering about its right breast to the birthmark on its left ankle, the manufactures had managed to make, with the exception of a circular connection port at the base of its neck, an exact copy of his girlfriend. Not a single hair was out of place.

            Even though he knows that in its inactive state the droid was nothing more than a life sized doll, he approaches the replica with hesitancy. Gingerly, he plucks the folded note from under its hand and opens it. He reads her scratchy, severely slanted script with a beleaguered sigh.

            “To keep me company,” he muses aloud, “to keep me company.”

“So, do you like it?” She is ecstatic when he calls her that night, her video feed practically radiating with happiness.

            “I guess?” He responds with a raised eyebrow.

            Her smile drops instantly and she pouts, “You don’t like it.”

            “No, of course I like it,” he says with emphasis, “It’s just a little weird.”

            “How is it weird?” Dejected, she doesn’t give him time to answer, “It’s not weird. You work with them all the time. You just don’t like it.”

            “Don’t go jumping to conclusions like that. It’s different. This is different.” He pauses for a moment, grasping for his thoughts, for the right words. “I guess the problem is that it looks just like you.”

            “But that’s the point!” She asserts, “It’s supposed to look like me, act like me. Be like me!”

            “Isn’t that taking it too far?” His brows furrow in confusion. “It’s you in every way, but it’s still not you. Do you see what I’m getting at?”

            “Barely,” she replies, “couples do it all the time. It’s supposed to tide you over until I get back. It’ll be as if I never left.”

            “Right,” he sighs. It’ll be as if you never left.

Later that night, he watches her space shuttle launch on the news. The rocket traces a brilliant arch across the sky, racing higher and higher until it merges with the violet-blue horizon.

Rigel doesn’t really think anymore. He doesn’t really need to

Rigel was born on Mars.

It’s hard to write when the only thing on your mind is him. When your heart is a pool of swirling feelings, paranoia, fear, guilt, love, longing sadness, all of it so overwhelming. You just want to see him some days, wishing it would all go back to being normal, wishing you can just hold onto him and lie with him and just let it all be. You wish, but it isn’t and the world has to go on and life has to go on and he needs to work and you need to work and the universe isn’t stopping just to let the two of cuddle in your bed, the universe doesn’t stop just for you.

But you really wish it did.

Colonel Joseph Rigel was, by nature, a clumsy and overly sentimental man. He had neither the drive nor the talent to make it as a career officer in the army. His bumbling tactical successes in the Orion Rebellion and his steady ascension through the ranks thereafter bothered many of his fellow officers. So, when Rigel was finally assigned to a far flung desk job

It’s such a rush of feelings, it’s choking my heart, it’s so intense and relentless. I miss him. I miss him because I almost lost him and now he’s so far out of reach. I miss him because my mind is unsure of where we are. I miss him because I love him.

Rigel doesn’t really think anymore. Like most people, his mind is permanently wired to the net.

First, there is fear, overwhelming and intense. It clinches his heart and sucks the air from his lungs. He is unsure of its origins, but the fear is there. Then, panic sets in. He is nervous, shaking, running. A long corridor, checkered linoleum tiles that stretch ominously towards infinity. There are no doors and he feels claustrophobia scratching at the corners of his mind. He runs, thudding down the warping ground. The tiles curve and bend, flowing together. He runs blindly, his lungs burn and suddenly the ground is pulled from beneath his feet and his falls horizontally down the hallway, a wave, a tsunami of black and white tiles nipping at his feet. He is swimming in linoleum, gasping for air as the tiles overtake him, clawing to break the surface. He sinks, pulled under by the wave. The linoleum pours down his throat, cementing his lungs and he tries to scream but there is no sound. In the silence of his struggles, he suffocates.

Rigel wakes to a garbage collector hovering outside. He pulls up the time, the hologram reads a little past three in the morning. As he turns to sit up, he realizes the other side of his bed is warm, the sheets tossed open and the pillow flat. Was he with a woman? Judging from the stillness of his apartment, she didn’t stick around. The encounter must have been brief because he has no recollection of the affair. A lingering migraine purrs softly in the back of his skull. What did they say about dying in your own dreams again?

The water cooler is broken, so Rigel drinks tap. He downs one glass and takes a second with him to the window. The garbage collector had moved on and he presses his forehead to the cool glass as he surveys the city below him. Earth was different from Mars. The lights were brighter and louder, the buildings were taller, the cars were faster, as if it was trying to exceed what can no longer be exceeded, and having failed in doing so, it was burning out like a match. Breathing in deeply and fogging up the window as he exhales, he lets his mind swim. He digs into his memories, trying to dredge up the events of last night but to no avail. He can almost touch the red sequins on her dress and taste her lipstick. Perhaps it was a mistake to leave Mars.

He leaves the glass resting on the window sill. Pulling on a presumably clean shirt, he leaves the apartment with a trench coat on and keys in hand. He goes out every night looking for something, looking for someone. He prefers to think of it as freelance detective work, but the less euphemistic term is bounty hunter. In all honesty, bounty hunting wasn’t his top choice but there weren’t a lot of options and he had to feed himself somehow. Rigel’s latest case, or the last bounty sent to his feed, is a drug dealer worth a quarter of a million credits. The police say he hangs around at a club.

On the outside, the club is unapologetically bland. Rigel arrives at the a sparse metal door some hours later, having combed through the dense city underground to find the club tucked away in the back alleys, cloaked and hidden by twisting corners and mazelike streets. Without a doubt, Rigel thinks, the sort of place one might find a bounty.

On the inside, the club is unapologetically loud. A caged elevator lowers Rigel deeper into the bowels of the slumbering city, the music pounding louder with each second until he is finally deposited at the bottom of the shaft. He pulls open the cage and steps into a long corridor. Rigel is taken aback for a moment when the familiarity of the scene hits him full force. The checkered linoleum floors, illuminated by pale fluorescent light, without a door in sight, everything about the club was a throwback to the last century and uncannily similar to his dream. He takes a hesitant step. So, what did they actually say about dying in your own dream? A group of neon-haired teens squeeze past him in the hall, their eyes bloodshot and their screeches echoing up towards the surface.

Rigel isn’t much of a dancer, foregoing the dance floor he heads for the bar. The décor might have been antiquated, but the bar is still tended by an android, the band of green wrapping halfway around his neck giving him away. Rigel orders a gin and tonic. The bartender sets the drink down before him, the ice clinking against the glass. He grins at Rigel as a woman slides into a seat next to him. It’s getting harder and harder to tell the androids apart from the real people, save for the colored bands around their necks.

“Are you looking for anyone in particular?” Rigel is startled by the question, but more so by her voice. It carries a tart edge that belies the sweetness she is trying to hide.

He turns to her and answers, “No one in particular, unless there is someone who wants to be looked for.”

It’s really late. My boyfriend’s suffered some sort of a mental breakdown and in the words of my mother, I was “deetched”. It feels awful, when he just hangs up and when it feels like you’re trying to care (me, trying to care, it’s a big step) and he just wants to get as far away from you as possible. Correction, it’s not really late. There exists no ‘really late’ time reference for me anymore. I’m just tired, wasted, I feel like a damn balloon, a popped balloon, the shrivelly bit of plastic, curled up and left over. I feel like shit. It’s not a strange feeling. I just feel like dying, again, all the time. Am I suffering from some sort of mental disorder? A condition? What condition am I? Take the free personality quiz now. I wonder why people try so hard to box each other in. It’s like I’m purposefully taking a marker, popping the cap and drawing a big red, bleeding box around my personality and telling people, jesus fucking Christ, this is me: a word, a picture, something so ordinary if I ever wake up I’d kill myself twice over just to forget it ever existed. I wish he didn’t leave me like this. I need a shower, but I’m lazy and I don’t feel like it. I don’t need to be presentable in any sense for at least a couple days more. I don’t feel like washing my hair. Every time I lift my arms to rinse and repeat I feel like they’re gonna fall off. My skin is sticking to my computer table and I don’t feel like sleeping, I don’t feel like existing, so why do I exist? Did I ask to be brought into this pitiful world? This world that, in my youthful angst, I detest so much? This world that, in a short while will become bearable only because I’ve grown up, only because the neurons in my brain plugged up any sort of rebellion, hatred, hope I might have harbored over the years, I never wish I knew?

Then again, it’s nice that I have my evenings to myself again.

118 214 471 428

As for my event…ehh……

There is nothing special about me, nothing that I can see. I am common, ubiquitous, trite. Nonetheless, I market myself as quite the contrary. I dress myself in words

I am overweight and it bothers me.

I hate it when I get into arguments with my mother, because when I coop myself up in my room and develop the need and urgency to piss, I have to pass by her desk on the way to the bathroom. Thank you, single bedroom apartment, where would I be without you.

Stuff….

I just can’t study. I just don’t want to touch my calc book. Ugh, I’m gonna fail that test.

Alright:

Mando

History

Calc

Bio

Those four things. WORK ON THEM. Later…

So…yeah, hopefully bio works out okay. I should buy a book or something.

I do all of this stupid shit and it just makes me feel worse on the inside. I’m such a hypocrite. I know I am and that’s the worse part. Please, just let me go.

He just broke my heart and it hurt. I don’t even get why it’s broken because he still ‘loves’ me. It just feels so weird now. I would have liked it so much better if he just said nothing.

Rephrase, it really fucking hurt. I end up weeping a lot…

I’ll do after 12, if he comes back after 12 that is.

I’m just…annoyed. Seriously. What the hell is with this shit…

I don’t want platonic love, or a little above platonic love. He doesn’t even love. He just wants me to be there for him, to hold his hand and be cute and cuddle and comfort him and listen to him and care about him. I mean, it’s not like I don’t want any of that either, but there’s a flipside of the coin, MY damn side of the coin. What, did I imagine all of this shit? I thought he really loved me. REALLY. Like…what the fuck kind of people do I end up with? Why do I always, always always pick the retarded, fucked, weird ones? How do you think those wives feel when they find out their husband is gay? What kind of shit is that? Even Rosa gets Joe back at the end, so what about me?

He won’t ever look at me romantically? Why the fuck didn’t he bother pointing out before we started dating? Before it got serious and he shoved his penis in me? Did it not occur to him, EVER, that…that…FUCK ALL OF YOU. FUCK FUCK FUYCK FUCK.

I hate this shit so much. Why…

The more I look at this crap, the more I hate it. He doesn’t want me to hate him, but how can I not?

Clearly, we are incompatible. This is what I told him. This is what I said. And he said, no, no, it’ll work out. WORK OUT HOW?! LIKE THIS! THIS IS GREAT! I FEEL LIKE SUCH SHIT ABOUT MYSELF I WANT TO TEAR MY GUTS OUT.

And where is…he has class and I have break. I want to go see him. And to hug him and kiss him and sleep with him and he doesn’t want any of that from me.

I quit. I really just want to quit.

Life just annoys me. I can’t do anything right. I can’t get into college. I can’t loose weight. You feel inferior? I make you feel inferior? I laugh at the comment.

She doesn’t remember a thing. Maybe it’s better that way. She doesn’t really care. Her movements are quick and lifeless. She kills people like Mozart composes music, like Louis Armstrong plays the trumpet. It’s a god given talent.

So, yeah, bored, have to leave for Flushing, soon. Need to find out if there is bio test. Goddamnit if we have one.

No one knows if we have a test or not, but I know that I’m retarded. Well, at least I can get to be an officer. I’m trying not be upset about this. It’s difficult. Okay, yeah, I have a lower IQ than Jeffrey. Lol, what does this mean? Actually, I’m just sorta pissed my IQ is low in general, I’m clumped together with stenographers and nurses and post graduate students, while he’s considered a genius and a possible Nobel prize winner. Maybe I’m just slow. Profound mental retardation.

I have no profound abilities. I can’t draw. I can’t write. I can’t even score high enough on a fucking IQ test. And you feel bad for yourself because you don’t have friends? God. The grass is always greener on the other side.

I am scared of a lot of things, like applying to colleges and getting my SAT scores back, like

You wake up morning, like every morning, only to ask yourself: why am I awake? Why did I even bother waking up? There’s nothing, save for school, which compels you to wake. Not the crowds trying to push into the subway, not your mother and her coffee grinder and morning news, not even yourself, because you know you want to go back to sleep. So, why do it?

It’s hard to write about things I believe in, mostly because I don’t really believe in anything. I’ve already written two of these and a third one is just difficult.

I am waiting on the corner of Lafayette and 8th Street. I gaze east because I know he’s coming from St. Mark’s. I am carrying a bag of Sun Chips from the Walgreens and a bottle of ice tea.

He waves at me from across the street, awkwardly, and I see the oil stains on the brown paper bag he has in the other hand.

“Why did you buy more food?” He asks, exasperated.

“I felt like Sun Chips.” I shrug and give him a helpless look. It’s hard to say no to Sun Chips.

He shakes his head, awkwardly. His mother always wants to cut his hair, which, I think, is just ridiculous because her haircuts make him look like a pineapple.

We walk down the street together, towards my house, to give my mother her friend fries. My mother, on the other hand, always wants him to run errands for her. Jeffrey, go buy some McDonalds. Jeffrey, go buy some Duraflame logs. Jeffrey, go buy some fries from that place on St. Mark’s.

And, he never objects. Okay, he says and waddles out of the house to get some logs, or fries, or McDonalds. Sometimes I think that saying no to any of my mother’s silly requests would be just too awkward for him.

My boyfriend is an awkward person, but it is all a cute sort of awkward. He likes awkward things, he talks about awkward things, and he does awkward things. Some people find him a little bit creepy, which is entirely understandable because sometimes he is also a little awkwardly creepy. But, then again, if he weren’t, I wouldn’t be in love with him.

I push away the large, uncooperative Venetian blinds and twist open the little knobs that fasten my windows closed. I stick my head out far enough to see the street below. He is waving, ear buds in hand and an awkward smile on his face.

I’m supposed to feel happy for him, I know, but sometimes I just can’t. It’s like your teammates breaking in speech. How are you supposed to really congratulate them when you’ve failed so miserably?

Some days you just feel like shit. I gain weight instead of loosing weight. Everyone is skinny. I don’t get how any one thing can make you feel so much like shit.

He hasn’t been gone for more than an hour and I already miss him. The thought of sleeping in my bed alone frightens me. I am no longer accustomed to this silence. Without his voice over the headset or his presence here next to me, abysmal loneliness overwhelms me. I wonder if he has boarded the train yet, or not. It is nearing three.

I cannot resist the pull of sleep. To enter the world dreams alone, numbed I am from the thought of waking up without him. Will he call me soon?

Watchmen is a powerful story. Can’t stop thinking about it. Talk like Rorschach. Few words. Blunt. Characters memorable. Story convoluted. Worth re-reading.

Sometimes, from the things he says, I’m not sure what I feel for him, pity or sadness. The more I know about him, the more I love him, good or bad, or just plain terrible. All of this little anxiety, all the little things he does to try to remedy his situation, the fact that his life actually has vivid undercurrents, ideals that govern his life. No, not even ideals, just ideas, driving forces behind his actions, intent, something, like a magnet that guides each little iron pellet into curves on paper, that motivate all of his actions, his justifications for everything…is it more like awe? Bewilderment? Astonishment that someone can actually live with purpose, but a purpose so simple and elementary? Something like that…

If you think about it, no one wins. We’re all losing to something, someone. It’s inevitable, it’s just how you end up dealing with the loss and how you earn your next victory.

Omg omg omg omg omg I’m gonna spazz and kill someone. Oh my dear god. That was the most beautiful, most epic chapter I’ve read so far. He’s a god. That’s it, pure and simple. You don’t fuck with gods. I’m gonna ohhhh myyy GOD…

They need to have sex after this. After he calms the fuck down and like, kills envy. They need to kill Envy. Oh god. Oh god….

I actually just can’t quit. I can’t, I can’t, not when it’s so GOOD like this. If I were a crack addict, there would be no hope for me, at all. AT ALL. I’d just…Roy is sex. Roy is agod. ROY IS GOD. I SUPPORT ROY FOR 2010!!!

God. -ly. So….fucking…epic….

Yeah, dude, like…..royai is just around the corner. It’s so fucking close I can smell that shit with my hands. That sentence made no sense. But oh jesus Christ. I’m going to spazz, die, have a heart attack. Royai Royaaiiiiiiiiii I love everything!! Oooh, god.

Well, I’m really hoping Envy dies. It’s about FUCKING time. I mean, how AWESOME is Roy? Like, seriously. He pwned two homunculus. Like THAT. Snap snap die bitch. How good is this shiiittt?!?!?

I’d devote the rest of my life to this man if it were possible. I’d dress Jeffrey up like Roy and just fuck him.

If he ever finds out how obsessed I am with Roy, it’s going to hurt him like crazy. But good god, Roy’s like sex. Seriously.

Granted, I’m dead scared of that look in his eyes. I hope he calms down. I’m so scared and so excited. Another month. Holy crap.

Royai is so good, I’m going to cry. They need to come out with this shit faster. When this series is done, I’m going to buy every single volume and carry it home, in like five different languages too. Oh god.

Random Recovery

And that one thought, brought on by a word or two, a sentiment or two, drives me crazy. Crazy. Completely fucking crazy. Every little inch of my mind is filled with just him.

Every once in a while, I miss him like crazy; I’d hear a song on the radio and listen to the lyrics and hear him in every word. And, every once in a while, even though I don’t need it anymore, I long for him arms, for his face, for him, for him, him, him, to be right here.

Every once in a while…

And that one thought, brought on by a word or two, a sentiment or two, drives me crazy. Crazy. Completely fucking crazy. Every little inch of my mind is filled with just him.

Some days I wish things were different, not that I don’t appreciate what I have now. Some days, I just regret not doing a few things that I should’ve gathered the courage to do. Words come to me so easily. Across a sea of letters, I stand on my lonesome island and wait for your ship. Never, not once, will I call out for your attention to come and rescue me.

I’ve gone crazy from the moment I met you.

And I need you so much.

Truer words have never been said.

I’m crazy. I miss him.

I shouldn’t.

Goddamn, I should’ve, I should’ve. I didn’t. I’m going to regret that one little thing for the rest of my goddamn life.

Christ, Meyer. Lol

If only you knew this shit, you’d get a good laugh out of it.

I hate things for a reason, you know. A fucking reason. I hate people, I hate school, fucking working…my teeth, my life….there’s just so much shit and I don’t want to deal with any of it. Why can’t it just be alright sometimes…why can’t you just run away with me? Do you see why I hate this so much…what is the point of staying if people hate you….

I’m tired. Really, really tired.

Yeah, pretty much, I hate everything. I hate my mother. I hate my boyfriend. I hate pieces of myself. I hate my fat, it’s terrible. I bet you it hates me too. I hate my teeth. I know they hate me because half of them aren’t even there anymore. I hate just living, breathing, fucking cellular respiration and all that crap. It’s all just crap. Names, dates, people, crap, crap, crap. I can’t spend two seconds of my life re-evaluating my own crappy existence without some blaring through my non-existent French doors that barely close, ever (I live in a fucking closet), “Are you gonna go?” I’ll go on my own time, when I’d done with being sad and weeping and hating, I’ll go when I feel inclined to go, I’ll go when I’m already considerably late, but no, I will not go because you’ve asked me to go. I will not do what is good for me because only you know what’s good for me. And, if you tell me I’m old enough to know what’s good for me, I will tell you no. No one knows what is good for them. You are all in denial. And, I hate every single fucking one of you and if I had the chance, I’d a) kill myself so I will no longer have to spend my life looking at you, or b) kill every single one of you and feel quite satisfied with my accomplishments and document the extinct of the human race in a shitty history textbook, c) shit in everyone’s face.

I like that last one.

She’s always, like, how much she isn’t like grandma. She’s the same, and she’s worse. She nags, at least grandma gets the idea and leaves.

Klondike Summer

He sells ice cream, she knows that much, at the street corner by the park. The sun is strong, so he wears a red baseball cap. He is a Mets fan, how will they ever get along? Children, big and small, crowd around him, dollar bills clutched in their hands like their own personal fortunes. He passes a rainbow colored cone to one of the kids.

During the school year, he sits in the back corner of her history class. He doesn’t talk much, but he knows all the answers when Mr. Rubbel calls on him. Who was the first king of England? How long was the Hundred Years War? Explain Wilson’s fourteen points. He knows everything.

So, what does she do? She sits, in her blue summer dress-the one with daisies on it-and

I’m never naming my weird ass stories ever again. I’m really, really, really fucking hungry-but not! Not, at the same time. I’m consumed by and lacking hunger, at the same time.

My heart is about to explode. The little sounds you make over the microphone. I know you but I do. I don’t know what I’m doing with you, but I know. Security, love, contention, peace, I don’t want drama. I want apple pie with a dollop of whipped on top and your hand on my shoulder.

I want to feel your lips, warm and wet, greeting mine. Your big, calloused, scarred hands, your fingers, curling around mine, I want to feel just for a moment used and loved. I want to feel your awkwardly cut hair, the scrape and sound of black, straw like strands, against my forehead in the morning. I want…warmth.

I’m tired. Old. Shrively? Is that a word? Shrivelly?

More member activities!

STOP WITH THE WORM, STOP WITH THE WORM. STOOOOP ITT WITH THE VELVET WORM.

Life hates me, god hates me, god laughs at me, my sports teams never win. No, really, life hates me. I’m too tired to even curse and yell and SCREMA AND FUCK IT WAS FOUR FUCKING POINTS YYOU FUCKIGTN SONS OF BITCHES! POFIUOIR!! FOUR!!!! FUCKING POINTS!!!!!! You let me win Monopoly, but you can’t like Kurt Warner win the damn Super Bowl? YOU FUCKING PIECE OF NEGRO SHIT YOU!

I’m racist. And, I’m angry. Larry Fitzgerald you have my sympathies and my love. I’ll add the Cardinals to my small, growing, list of sports teams that never win. I’ll start watching hockey. I will. And they won’t win either.

Ketchup Mustard
Salt Pepper
Sour Cream Onion
Fish Chips
Peanut Butter Jelly
Mac Cheese
Cereal Milk
Cookies Cream
Mint Chocolate Chip
Tortilla Chips Dip
Nachos Cheese
Peas Carrots
Cheeseburgers Fries
Pancakes Syrup
Meat Potato
Sushi Wasabi
Noodles Soup
Gin Tonic
Spaghetti Meatballs
Martini Olives
Sandwich Pickles
Chickpeas Lentil
Cumin Coriander
Ice Cream Soda
Hotdog Bun
Buffalo Wings Blue Cheese
Vinegar Olive Oil
Lemon Chicken
Beef Broccoli
Bacon Egg
Mashed Potatoes Gravy
Popcorn Butter
Crepes Nutella
Turkey Cranberry
Bread Butter
Rice Beans
Apples Oranges
Pasta Sauce
Lettuce Tomato
Aeronautics

I’m over the Cardinals. There’s always next year. I really hope I don’t fail English. I hope it’ll be okay. I’m no longer going to think about it. Alright. Shut up. STOP. STOP. OKAY. SHHHH.

O-o;

I wonder what it says about music when Pandora plops Nickelback next to Avril Lavigne.

Swallowing hurts.

I’m sick at heart, as always. Hormones suck.
You know, when I was little, I wanted to be an astronaut. Generically childish, but, hell, it seemed wonderful at the time. It gave me a strange sort of thrill, a shiver down my spine, to think about reaching out and feeling the cool, black marble of space against my palm. A strange sort of thrill to imagine nebulae, dressed in wispy, diaphanous robes of stars, a strange sort of thrill to realize that space is empty, that space is big, that space is a never-ending void where the light of my tiny planet Earth goes to die, where the light of my tiny planet Earth is reborn anew, like a phoenix rising from the ashes, in the colors of another world. I’d cut the cable anchoring me and drift and drift and drift, past the valleys and mountains of the cosmos, past the milky lakes of galaxy, past the dying dwarfs and the supernovas. Space would be my grave and silence, my requiem.

It’s nice to be a kid because you’re allowed these kinds of dreams. You’re allowed to sit with your mouth half open, staring at something. You’re allowed a canvas and some paint, your creativity and your imagination, you’re allowed all of these things like you’re allowed toy trucks and Barbie’s. But, once you get to that age, that age when people start thinking you’re retarded because you sit with your mouth open (and draw with crayons), the dreams stop. And, also because there are no stars in Manhattan, there are only helicopters. Dreams are little kid stuff, when you grow up, you have to deal with grown up stuff, like doing the dishes, taking out the garbage, learning how to drive, learning how to cook, learning how to do your own taxes (someone forgot learning how to learn, a small task most people seem desperately incapable of understanding), but most importantly, learning how to run the rat race. There are no dreams in Manhattan, only Lexington Avenue stretching south to the tip of the island. Concrete would be my grave and the closing bell, well, it’d be the closing bell.

On yet another childish note, dark chocolate is only dark, according to the Europeans, if the chocolate contains 35% cacao solids. According to the Americans, who have no real standard for such things, dark chocolate needs only to contain 15% chocolate liquor to maintain sufficient darkness. The real question: Is my American Dream…dark? When you stop running the race, what do you taste? White chocolate-a misnomer if I ever saw one because the thing contains no cacao whatsoever? Or, just pure cacao powder, bitter and raw-the kind of stuff that smacks you a couple times to make sure you’re tuned in to the proper episode of Life? Or, am I just talking about something completely pointless?

I mean, when you’re reading something like Melville’s Bartleby the Scrivener, its like life just handed you lemons and insisted, if not pleaded, for you to make lemonade. All right, I make the lemonade. The little voice inside my head can’t help but quip every two or three seconds, “Look! Look! He wrote Moby Dick! He’s gotta have a point! Something real deep and philosophical! Look! Look!” So, I look. The thing about classics (and, by default, the people who write those things) is they’re expected to have a point. They’re supposed to teach you something nice and important and warm, to fuel the intense flames of your imagination, to keep you going at night when you’re down and out (though, really, ice cream does the same thing). Why else would you have them? Entertainment? A thousand page tome on the finicky details of Victorian courtship? Say hello to my trash can. And, when you read a classic, you’re expected to get something out of it. You’re expected to take away with you this wonderful understanding of something new. You’re expected to enlightened! But, what if I’m confused? Or, bored? Or, just plain don’t care. Am I any dumber than someone who enjoyed Pride and Prejudice? Am I any less worthy than someone who loved The Great Gatsby? Am I just a kid, sitting my mouth open, if I couldn’t even get through The Great Gatsby because life demanded my attention elsewhere? Well, Life, thank you for the lemons. I’m going to enjoy my lemonade, without the added sugar.

Reading a classic like Bartleby the Scrivener, for example, is just like living the American dream. Examine, for a moment, the conditions under which I found my copy of Bartleby the Scrivener. It was Halloween, of the year Two Thousand and Eight and people down the hall were singing the Village People. I’m late as usual, hardly unexpected. In an attempt to get into the Halloween spirit, I’ve somehow bothered to waste my time and squeeze myself into a costume. Upon arriving on the sixth floor of the pasty colored building that is my high school (high school really ought to be a synonym for hell) and waddled down the hall to the last room before the Hudson Staircase, I was greeted by Mr. Murray (whose name I’m quite sure I’m spelling wrong)! What a vision he was indeed, a number 2 pencil in hand and the attendance sheet in the other, in the place of my usual English teacher. Dressed, as usual, in non-descript sweater and pants, Mr. Murray beckoned me towards a seat, with what curiosity I took my seat. Immediately I was told to grab a hideously red book off a cart. What I’ve never truly understood about books in the public school system is that they all come in this awful, smelly, deteriorating form. The actual cover design of the book is shrunken about an inch on all sides and printed in the middle, with bright and often disagreeably colored border. And, on the back, in large, black Serif print exists a blurb of, usually, irrelevant information. The pages are brown and smelly and awful to the touch. In my copy of the book, all some thirty odd pages of Bartleby the Scrivener were happily detached from the actual binding, making for a handy portal addition of larger, already portable object. I thought it was quite charming. Then, I proceeded not to read it until class the next week.

If a classic is classic and should be taken seriously, why in the name of god did it arrive in my hands in such conditions? If the American dream is a dream of striking it rich, a dream of rising from the quagmire and cesspool of anonymous oblivion, a dream shared by men like Gatsy, shared by men like Bartleby, why is it nothing more than just a nightmare? Examine, for a moment, the conditions under which I found that my life had no meaning, in possibly all too metaphysical sense. I was sitting at a computer, some years ago, though not that many years ago because I haven’t lived many years to begin with. It suddenly occurred to me, as I ogled at why it was that computers worked, that I’ll never be able to find an answer. And, yes, I know, there are people out there who know how computers work. But, rather, the question is, why computers work? Why do I work? Why does my heart beat? Why do I write essays? Why do I even fit in the proper scope of the world? Why can’t I say, “I prefer not to,” and just not do something? The simple answer, and the short answer, is that I’ll end up like Bartleby, I’ll end up dead.

The amount of trouble I’m having with an English essay really just makes me wonder where the hell authors get their inspiration. Do they just plop down next to their typewriters and word processors and let their fingers run wild? And Melville said, “Let there be Moby Dick!” And, born was another classic, one to toss into the flames of high school English curriculums, one to fuel centuries of imaginations. Christ, Moby Dick was about a whale and Bartleby the Scrivener was about a scrivener.

The world isn’t a patient place. It rushes people, rushes people into things they don’t like and never wanted to do. It makes people write essays for class at four in the morning. No one likes that.

This essay isn’t fun. The American dream isn’t fun. It’s a relic of the past.

The back of my head is itchy, it’s persistent and annoying and I’ve been scratching at it for a while.

Bartleby, the Scrivener, quit life. Slowly but surely, he steps out of the world of the living and into the world of the dead. However, the world is an impatient and rather pragmatic creature, eventually leaving Bartleby behind in his resignation. Only on an act of charity, and possible nuisance, does his employer, an unnamed lawyer, come to retrieve him, to attempt to coax him out of his grave. In his simple minded ignorance, the lawyer fails to provide Bartleby with the simplest of all charities, understanding and sympathy. Instead, he showers upon Bartleby more values of the material world Bartleby so aptly abandons, illustrating the fatal flaw of the American dream. Thus, Bartleby succumbs to life and is granted the ultimate sanctuary of death.

In one of the last exchanges between Bartleby and the lawyer, Bartleby declares that the job of a sales clerk is too confining. To which the lawyer replies, “‘Too much confinement,” I cried, “why you keep yourself confined all the time!'” To these two different men, the word ‘confinement’ held different meanings. To Bartleby, perhaps the word takes on a much deeper, more metaphysical sense. He speaks not of the physical confinement that the lawyer remarks of, but to the inner confinement of a sales clerk, the repetition and the boredom of doing the same thing over and over again. What for Bartleby is an essential freedom is but a trivial absurdity to the lawyer.

The exchange continues: Bartleby remains adamant to stay as he currently is, preferably stationary. This enrages the lawyer, “‘Stationary you shall be then,” I cried, now losing all patience, and for the first time in all my exasperating connection with him fairly flying into a passion. “If you do not go away from these premises before night, I shall feel bound-indeed I am bound-to-to-to quit the premises myself!'” The world, obviously, being such that it is, has no place for a useless man. The lawyer attempts to either grant Bartleby a form of obsolete charity to console himself, or attempts to bypass this obstacle in the course of his life, like a stream bending around a huge bolder. What he does not understand, a fact that Bartleby never articulates, is the intense monotony of what he is rushing forward to greet. Bartleby’s strangeness is but a tired and weary defiance, a quiet anger, at the world that had neither shown him mercy, nor patience, but has only instead robbed him of his will to live. No form of charity will mend this hopelessness.

The last paragraph of the short story adds one essential piece to the Bartleby mystery: Bartleby’s previous station of work as a Dead Letters clerk. Dead letters, aside from having a potent connotation, as Melville writes, are “on errands of life, these letters speed to death.” Humanity, in an attempt to escape death, only rushes towards it, only rushes head first in the furnace of an unending hell. Bartleby realizes the futility of this American nightmare and simply kicks his own bucket. He did not quit his job at the Dead Letters Office, rather, he was removed. Adding to his place more despair and hopelessness that eventually drove him over the edge. The American dream is not a dream, it is a nightmare, a nightmare sugar coated for the unsuspecting that flock century after century to that golden door. What waits beyond those sacred doors save for a Bartleby ending? Perhaps not everyone is prone to “pallid hopelessness”, but everyone is prone to the relentless grind of life. The American dream is a poison for the world, opium for the capitalist masses. There is no cure, for “he whom it would relieve, nor eats nor hungers any more; pardon for those who died despairing; hope for those who died unhoping; good tidings for those who died stifled by unrelieved calamities.”

Though I am not prone to any sort of hopelessness, I often wonder whether or not it’d be worth it to join Bartleby in his preferential resignation. Shall I not prefer to write this essay? Shall I prefer not to live? Shall I quit life? How tempting an idea it is to drop everything, to stop typing, to cease to care about everything, and just sit silently upon a banister. Sadly, I’m kept running this rat race by a pesky instinct called survive. Against my own volition, I’m kept swimming against the tide by nothing but a preference to live. Ah Bartleby! Ah humanity!

I want to cry sometimes, but I can’t. And, there’s a feeling, a little latch of feeling that comes up, creeps up and fills your entire body. It hurts and it’s strange. It’s like loneliness mixed in with sadness, with anxiety, like a cocktail of feelings without the alcohol, just raw bitterness. It’s sharp and tangy and wet and it tastes a little like a piece of me dying on the inside. No one knows, no one cares. Everyone’s too caught up with there crap. Garfinkel stuffing his face with a plate of food coming up from the fifth floor. Katerina and her weird vaginal cramping during SING practice. Jeffrey, how much I love Jeffrey, and his non-descript grunts over the phone…

If feels like the world’s abandoned me, or, in another sense, I’ve abandoned it.

I want to make up. But I don’t.

I’m scared. But I’m not.

What am I then?

Hurt? No, not even. Apathetically depressed about everything.

Is being content really that bad, so I need drama? Do I need happiness, do I need anything but you? I want to cry, to grab you, turn you around, bury my face in your chest and hide. But, you don’t love me anymore. Not the same, anymore, you’re distracted, distant, elsewhere. You need to sleep, you need to work. You need your life and you don’t have time for me anymore. Go, please. Go. Don’t worry about me. I’m sure you don’t worry about me. Forget about me. Forget about it. I want to end it, but I can’t because I’m still clinging to some sort of hope that it won’t end. Please. Don’t go.

He hasn’t called back. He hasn’t messaged me. It’s quiet and the quiet is eating away at me.

There’s a hole in my sock. I’m in my winter jacket, the periwinkle one that made Ehtesh look like a woman from the back. The periwinkle one with the dirty sleeves that’ll never wash out, browned and oil stained. The hole is strangling my big toe, I can feel where the edge of the fabric digs into flesh each time I move. There’s a hole in my pink sock, stained black and blue by my trousers, my shoes, the dirt on my floor, in the gym, perfumed by the pungent smell of my feet.

I can’t help it. Shut up.

I enjoy being tormented like this, all the time, all the time. I miss the pain, gathered up like a little ball, a rubber band ball of my problems, in the center of my chest. Like Iron Man’s heart reactor. If someone said that three years from now, you’d be long gone, I’d stand up and punch them out.

Come back. I love you. You bought me all these things, all the little Pooh’s, everything, come back. STOP UNDERLINING SHIT IN RED. FUCK OFF WORD. Damn everything. And the fucking capitalization.

I can’t get my toe out of that hole if I don’t use my hand. Damn. He’s not responding. I’m worried? Or, just lonely?