I like this place because it is sixty degrees and cloudy all winter, but this homeostasis seems oddly connected to or emblematic of the nature of life here. driving along the freeway I commented to my sister that everything in california is convenient and smooth; everyone seems to have a new car, and you can be in and out of anywhere in minutes. people move around each other like they're furniture, blithely, with no particular concern in their eyes. there is not this determined searching quality in a californian's glance, as there is in the face of someone who is trying desperately to get somewhere in a cold universe.
cold has a way of making needs immediate.
so it takes me longer to get anywhere, because I am fooled, gently, smoothly, into feeling that there is nothing to think about in life. a need arises; it is fulfilled. I know that there is a problématique to existence; but here it seems to have excused itself to some dark cave, while automated doodads produced by apple or sony take precedence, monopolize time. I have none of my books, which doesn't help. nietzsche. that's it.
it takes me four hours of sitting here to even begin to have a thought.
1 comments:
When I was in New York, something like going out to lunch required a nap upon returning to the apartment. It might have just been the jet lag, but the cold made everything exhausting to me.
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