050114 I can't believe it's really 2014, and it has been for a while. Just typing the name of the new file makes my brain hurt and my balls ache. I miss Glenn. That being said, and for a second there I couldn't even remember how to spell his name, that being said, 050314 This is so fucking pointless. Arched over the back of a desk chair in an office building near downtown Milwaukee. A great picture window behind me. Watching gulls, bellies lit by the setting sun, circle about above. Sky a mottled mix of classic grey and blue and white. Can anything be said to be or not be pointless, after all? Why am I here? Because I remember sidewalks, helicopters, gumballs, lightning, and a cherry wagon thundering down the cracked, uneven hill. Self-importance must be one of humans' most egregious sins. (Or maybe it's just me.) Ha ha. aeon mag says " Despite the impression one can often receive from reading popular science accounts, there’s little chance of success in devoting your life to the biggest questions about life, the Universe, and everything", nevertheless that's what some of us were born to do, *whether we're smart enough to be physicists or not.* here's looking at you, Chris V. today's question is: where does energy come from, and where does it go? also I really like being up in the morning with time to think and be and wake up and actually do something besides shuffle off. it was hard to get up. but I was motivated by not wanting to completely suck and fail and give ms thing any more reasons to condemn me. so I only got like not even a quarter of the essays graded but hey. WAY better than nothing. and I'm finding a groove of not letting each one take ten damn minutes. now when I talk to her today (ugh) I can honestly say I'm working on them. where does energy come from and where does it go. a surprising amount of the answer is up to you. it's raining. beautiful chilly spring. integrity, honesty, being a real artist is more about clarity of perception and even forgiveness of self image, less about accolades for a certain kind of impressing or entertaining. if you do it solidly enough for a long enough time, you may become impressive or entertaining and that's fine. but be careful out there will ya. you could say the slap of water from the showerhead at 4:03 am is the taste of failure. you're how old? or you could say it's the taste of dedication. like I said, it's up to you. 051514 Mrs Aide is not so bad after all. she wasn't mean to me. poor things exhausted after her maternity leave, that's what. anyway, this teaching thing? it's hard for everybody, not just me. if I have a special problem, it's not about teaching. it's about something else altogether--like maybe working. pay attention, this is important. I continually want to divert my own attention, or rather "it" wants to divert my attention if you want to look at it that way, away from itself (itself being the real problem) onto whatever else is at hand that can be blamed. this is what has kept me running and avoiding for years. years, Mat. pay attention. this is important. it's not about teaching. but don't worry; it IS about something, something OTHER than just "you're a pathetic sack of shit." excited? intrigued? scared? you should be. where does energy come from, and where does it go? 051914 Megan woke up after bedtime came down the stairs and said some stuff. She asked why does your breath smell like chocolate? but she might as well have been asking why do you let your addictions suck up all your free energy and keep you in one place and prevent you from being ready for any kind of intimacy be it personal or professional? Why do you pour your soul into alcohol and gross food and tv shows and spending every spare dollar that comes your way? Why are you bludgeoning what's left of your self into a pulpy faceless mass? Why are you abdicating your power, your power to write, to protect, to provide, and to love? I don't necessarily *burn* bridges, but I have lately a lot of them, mostly through neglect or the fallout of disorganization and laziness, charred beyond recognition. MATC. Alvin. John. Jimmy. NLU. MHSA & Christy. Mueller & West. EVAE. SAIL. Brooks et al at Turning Point (maybe). Aide at MHS *definitely.* At least Carmen Gardner still likes me. I could get back on WECAN. The rest of the people at MHS still seem to be okay with me, but who knows what effect Aide's feedback is going to have. And then there's this underpaid Genesee thing coming up--at least I'm not completely bereft. There are still some people, still some paths. I just, it's just-- Okay, don't be pathetic. Approach work the way you encourage your kids to approach soccer & stuff. Come on, don't give up. Get in there. Keep trying. All that stuff. Well, okay, what exactly did I do wrong this time? I didn't grade all the papers on time with the rubrics. That's really about it, isn't it? Now *why* that happened is a bigger thing, I guess, but it's not like I totally came in and fucked off or went to sleep or cussed out a student or anything. It's chunkable. We can deal with it. Let's see. Is the problem that there's too much bureauocratic accountability and missing the point and bullshit and stuff (there is), or that I just didn't do the work? Would the bullshit be dealable if the homework weren't an obstacle? Am I incapable of doing homework? I don't think so. What motivation will be sufficient in what domain; ie, where does energy come from? (And where does it go?) I know I can be a good worker. I am a good worker. I have skills, imagination, passion, dedication, determination, and a fair amount of physical and mental resources left. Other people in this world have witnessed me being a good worker. So. What the fuck. How to channel that in a way that makes some fucking money, it's that fucking simple. Like take right now, for instance. These 10th and 11th graders are supposed to be working on a paper or report of some sort. Most of them are not. I could go around and confiscate phones and demand to see work on monitors and give speeches and what-not. By most reasonable definitions of job expectations for today, I almost certainly should be doing that. But I'm not going to. I will never be the guy that does that. Is that because I am just so fundamentally opposed to playing that role, or because it's too awkward and inconvenient? Am I merely avoiding unpleasantness, just getting away with sitting here on the computer because I can, future consequences be damned? If so, okay, whatever, the reasons for not wanting to do something are not necessarily anybody else's business, but then WHY AM I STILL HERE? If I am supposedly capable of being such a great worker, I NEED TO GET MYSELF INTO A SITUATION WHERE I WILL END UP WORKING and seeing those longer-term rewards. Or else this is it. This is all I can expect, and all I deserve. It seems like I'm kinda predisposed to look for an easy way out, because work is just too boring and hard. But even a scammer has to work. You don't get something for nothing. Oh. Yeah. That again. Damn it. I prefer to be honest, just as I prefer to be fit and free of addictions. There is a mythology deeply infused in me that says there has to be a hard part of getting back to that--that there is some Eden-esque integral *me* to get back to, and that the necessary story arc includes suffering, sacrifice, hard work. This (day-to-day substituting) is just horrible. I am not helping anyone get an education, beyond the bare minimum legal requirement of having a certified adult in the room so they can be here while their teacher is gone. It wouldn't have to be this way. I could step up and volunteer something of myself. I'm the one who looked at the bulk of the data impressionistically, and determined that substitute=babysitter. Yes, a lot of other people also believe that, but widespread belief doesn't equal truth. Here's how the reasoning seems to go, under the surface: 1. I could be doing something here, but I'm not 2. So I should go somewhere else and find something else to do 3. But I'm afraid if I do that, I'll just end up failing to motivate myself there too 4. So I just sit here, as if paralyzed, essentially having made up my mind to fail, barely getting by, seating the shit out of my pride and still getting major financial help from my *mom*, for fuck's sake 5. To make this state of affairs palatable, I drink, eat, watch TV, buy gadgets; meanwhile I maintain my social isolation because I am not presentable in my current condition 6. And that makes it physically, mentally, and spiritually harder to break out of this cycle Repeated attempts to break into any one of these sections of the cycle have from time to time provided temporary bouts of relief or optimism, but eventually the cycle reestablishes itself. Peg said join a running group or something; do something physical that also connects you with other people. SOMEHOW I'VE GOT TO STOP SAYING "SOMEHOW I'VE GOT TO ___________", AND ACTUALLY FIND A WAY TO STAY ON BOARD WITH WHATEVER BITS AND PIECES OF ALTERNATIVES I FIND OR BEGIN. Remember, do something, anything, or nothing, but--take ownership. It's not the schools' fault, it's not Mrs. Aide's fault, it's not "our whole educational system"'s fault--or even if it is, so what? Work on the parts that are *your* fault, without undue shame, without self-damnation. Psst. Over here. Quiet! Look, I'm not about to change my loyalties, but—I kind of like you. So go on. Get out of here. Because my cat is going to kill you if you stay. Shh! Go. Now! Don't look back! 052014 Ah. Chromebook is like a Uniball pen. More expensive than a crap ballpoint, but affordable. Not as nice as a high-end fountain pen, but still a joy to use. Inspires a bit of possessiveness and device attachment, but not so much that it becomes a distraction. Ultimately disposable, but you'll go out of your way to hang onto it and be careful with it while it lasts. I think it strikes a really good balance. I think this way of computing is going to save me some money over time. 052114 I read an open letter from a teacher who was retiring because the school system sucks and parents have abdicated and the students are in control and there's the wrong kind of accountability and bureaucratic minutiae and so on, and i was like yeah, me too, even though i haven't earned the right to say so the way she has because she has worked for 25 years and apparently has been consistently evaluated as effective, while i woked for a few years and, when i was evaluated at all, was given equivocal ratings from unreliable evaluators. Anyway, i was like yeah, me too, fuck this, i'm the victim, and then for some strange reason I googled "this computer has failed to make me a better person" and for some reason i went right to the tenth page of results, and i found this article about how procrastinators have the same kind of rational decision maker in their brains, but there's also an instant-gratification monkey who takes over the controls, and i was like, yeah, that sounds pretty damned accurate and then as i was standing there waiting for the teacher whom i'm subbing for today to leave (the class was hushed, there was a weird vibe but clearly she *does* have some kind of control), i was suddenly like, yeah, don't make your decisions based on other people's sob stories. Now sob stories, as everyone knows because everybody has one, usually have some truth in them. Just like stereotypes, ya know? But that's not all there is to the story. sez the guy: "A remarkable, glorious achievement is just what a long series of unremarkable, unglorious tasks looks like from far away." and: 'Set a reminder for a month from now that says, “Have things improved? If not, change my methods.”' weirdest thing evar, i was walking the halls most ineffectually 7th hour today and i saw what i thought was jacob s going by in the other direction. i said hi jacob a little too quietly and he looked right past me with a funny look, either vacant or just like he was looking at something else past me. and then i wasn't even a hundred percent sure it was really him--he looked a little too small, a little extra homely, and for an instant i could swear i saw a little bald patch on the top of his head. wtf?? 052514 Let go of alcohol (again) 052714 "All pain is sexual" only til you're about 44, divorced & depressed, underemployed & isolated--then, somehow, "some pain is just gross and horrendous, and can only be read as an indication of further decay and increasing irrelevancy; the sign of uselessness to come." 052814 Added morning routine 1/5/750: - 1 journal entry - 5 ideas - 750 words Also: smart alarm (gradual volume, preferably music, solve math problems to dismiss), stove timer a few minutes later as backup (aka, fuck it, I'll just have to get up to shut that off in a minute anyway); hope to add 7 minutes of exercise soon too, but hey, baby steps, right? I'm training myself how to train myself. KC was my dream city again. There was a grey acoustic bass guitar (not upright) in a little music shop kinda upstairs of near where I maybe used to live, or maybe all those little neighborhoods look blessedly the same. I didn't even have to explain how I got in there when the pudgy old guy got back from wherever he was; he didn't even ask. I could play that guitar. I could see that I could learn to play it. Bending the strings was heavenly. But then after the guy got back, I couldn't find it. I had lain it in a chair, but when I wanted to buy it I couldn't find it. Also I've been feeling like having a girlfriend, but that's not exactly it. I read this thing about trimers, and this weird state of matter that can involve infinitely nested sets of perfectly poised three particles, and now like a college student equipped with a poorly-understood science metaphor, I'm convinced that everybody's frumpy normal doesn't have to be; I could be in a three; polyamory, whatever. I would like one of each, ok. Is that too much to ask? No really. Is it? I'm approaching today differently. Head up. Less shuffling. Less gloom. Training myself to be a morning person. If I can train myself to do that, I can train myself to do other things. Hey, it's a place to start. I think it really could be a place to start. There's a part of me going, "FAIL, FAIL, FAIL!" But that part is not particularly original. His name is A Monkey Named Lying Sack Of Shite. I will give him a bagel and some eggs and tell him to fuck off for a while. Let's see. About this girlfriend. Strong thighs. Buttery skin. Powerful jaw. Warm glow. Commanding personality. Gorgeous laugh. A little contemptuous. But in a way that has a hole in it that lets love in and out. Eyes that massage you with humor. A brain that makes you feel a little like a retard sometimes, but a well-loved retard. An intellect that protects you. And she has--we have--a boyfriend too, who fucks her so hard and long that she vibrates, and there's plenty for me, sopping wet to clean up, all afternoon between her thighs. 052914 Me & the Monkey Named Lying Sack of Shit habe been charged with the reawakening and reactivation of a slumbering army. Brigades of the disaffected, of the decommissioned, shall be leaching out of your small towns, your river bridges, your A&W breakfast tables, your business loops, in a slow-motion cascade not knowing if it's truly too late. But then we never know, never knew that anyway, right? My breakfast club friend caitlyn is probably extremely manipulative, probably deceiving herself and me and taking advantage of the situation in oh so many ways, but she's also a really smart nice girl just trying to get through this thing (whatever it is). I don't know if she knows how much of a long-forgotten boost she gave me just now, when she murmured in the hallway after I escorted her to the warrior's express for the coffee that will get her thru the day, "She was so hitting on you. I could see it in her face." She was talking about the teacher in charge of the little coffee shop, who thought I was a customer. We all had a little chuckle when caitlyn said no, i was her bodyguard. The teacher gave me a free coffee and said, "Now you can keep us all safe." I'm having such a great, weird day. I love training myself to get up early. Granted, it's only the second day. DOING WORK LEADS TO DOING MORE WORK DOING GOOD WORK LEADS TO GETTING MORE GOOD WORK BEING AWAKE AND READY LEADS TO FEELING MORE FREE EXERCISING YOUR BRAIN LEADS TO HAVING MORE ENERGY AND IDEAS you know what? fuck it. I *am* a goddamned artist. still have to pay the bills, though. Of yesterday's changes, prioritizing the waking up early. Not overly stressing about the 1-5-750, though it seems highly likely that at least some of them will "naturally" unfold as an effect of getting up, the foundation. Got to get the foundation solid first.