6:28 p.m. - June 26, 2003
A thought or two that go nowhere, similar to my professional and social development
Since beginning this online egress or purgation, take your pick, I've maintained a distance between what I write in the present and reading what I wrote in the past: Do not read the archives. Ever. I sat down this afternoon and read both Bigsky and Non-Descript and I regret that I've validated my worries and concerns. It is true - it wasn't merely my imagination - that my writing has deteriorated from a technical perspective in addition to rendering the emotional in a flat-line devoid of any resemblance to myself. This is worrisome.
Asked in an email, Why won't you let yourself be happy?, formulating a response is arduous not because I don't have a pat reply to cite, but because I'm not sure I have a structural understanding of just what consitutes happiness. It's a silly thing to say maybe, but I couldn't define the term any more easily than I could explain the nature of the universe in Chinese. Is everybody like that? Possessing a vague sense of happiness, I mean, not struggling to explain the cosmos and hitting each tone correctly while navigating crowded street vendors hawking every manner of creature for dinner. I can't even pronounce nei oh ma but I do have chopstick-adroitness down.
I don't know what I'm doing here.
It is hot today, a Red Alert don't-breathe-the-air. Walking from the classroom to the office I think ear wax melted and dripped onto my shoulders.
