Saturday, September 06, 2003

From my LJ this afternoon:
crashing ...

... visited a friend's bio lab (she's writing a thesis on neural cresting). It was fun to talk nuts&bolts science again. That, and US$200, will get me a home.

It's sunny. It's saturday. I should be out and about, if only to try busking. I'm exhausted (horrible horrible long detailed nightmare last night ... first in 40 years!!?)

I'm practically immobile ... incapacitated ... numb. Not good. Must find housing for October.

and a bit later, in reply to a reader's reply that they'd had a nightware "like some godawful RPG":

Noooooooo kidding ... mine was somewhat similar; like this post-apocalyptic pirate ship, a huge clunker with all sorts of alleys and bunkers and huge spaces and tight confines and mad-men and shiet ... and being caught in something like a cage as it slowly submerged ... remember Alien? ... violence and rage and fear and desperation and disgust ... the absence of any elemental warmth, and certainly the absence of human warmth. Life in Babylon ... I'm so sick of glad-handing yuppies and pseudo-sensitivity ...

I drilled down through my fear concerning homelessness (3 weeks and counting) ... part of it is my physical problems (my left foot packed it in this afternoon ... kind of like having a tire go flat very suddenly ... pretty wierd to be suddenly stranded in the middle of a downtown sidewalk!) and found the big thing: I'm infected by the bourgeois concept of privacy. This, to my way of thinking, is /modern/, and entirely optional.
Oh! To share a house with individuals who are interested in their interior processes!

I'm thinking of running a "Shared accomodation" ad that includes "Are you grown up? and are you also a mature adult?" ... but that phrase has come to mean something negative, whereas it actually means capable of interdependence, beyond the hang-up on independence (grown-up means just "beyond dependence").:

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