2001-10-30 - 6:04 p.m.

Slowly, I am reconnecting with people I knew in my former collegiate life through the medium of the on-line diary. Have you seen the Matrix? There is a scene where Joe Pantogliano looks at a screen of binary code, and explains that he sees not numbers, but people, women, steaks, etc. I think that's what's happening to the world. We have less and less contact with the real world, we see it through the filters of TV, the internet, books, newspapers. We learn to recognize the still-life photos as scenes from life-threatening conflict, interpret the name-calling and one-liners on sitcoms as reflections of relationships, read our friends lives as narratives on our screens. We filter real-life until it becomes movie, we impose expectations on our lives of three-act forms, and irony, and foreshadowing. We've turned the seemingly random tropes of literature into guideposts. The image has become the reality, the reality an imperfect reflection of the image. It's kind of like a perverse, extra-personal uber-ich (over-me, super-ego) that we've set up to restrict the way the world's supposed to be. I don't think it's necessarily bad, but it's probably unhealthy. You can call that an oxy-moronic, but it's not. Coffee is unhealthy, and yet it's still a force for good in the world. Probably means literature and movies are best taken in moderation.

There was a time, when I was young, when I lusted after women, but never dated. I couldn't even really imagine what dating would be like: the whole process seemed to consist of 'winning the girl', and then everything worked out. I looked at it through the veil of the romantic-comedy. Later, when I had actually dated someone, I easily fell into the role of 'spurned lover': either I was slowly working towards getting back together with the One, or I was slowly working towards getting over her by finding the One. It didn't really matter which, to be honest. Whichever way reality was pointing me was the way I interpreted it. Then I graduated college, and fell into the role of 'angsty 20somethinger', philosophical because he doesn't actually work for a living. Then I got a job, and became 'working man', lost my job, and I'm back to the angst. The problem is, that all of these roles end in something meaningful, they're all geared towards finding meaning in the life I'm leading right now, as if I could be someone without having actually to accomplish anything. That bothers me. I keep surprising myself with my ability to waste my days in the calm assurance of the availability of tomorrows. Well, they are in short supply and quickly running out of stock. Plus, it would seem they don't keep well on the shelf.

"This is your life! Best used before 2002!" And like the milk we drank, it'll keep a bit longer than marked, but you never know by how much. Unless you buy your life at 7-11, in which case you expired three years ago, and they keep changing the date. Odd thought.

There are times when I feel the boundaries of, well, everything. I've always associated death, anti-matter, negation with the space behind my eyes: the blackness you can sense, more than see, where your vision stops. There are times when my sense of that space increases, it feels like my mind takes a step back. Time feels a little slippery then. It doesn't happen often, but it sure is interesting. I'm not sure what brought this on. Moving on.

I'm going to NYC on Saturday! Getting a chance to see my Brother, Billy and Malraux as well. This is quite the good thing, amigos. On the down side, I won't be able to see everyone at PCP, and I will most likely miss shadowrunning with Actionhero and co. Life is full of choices. Gra is beannachtai diobh.

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