I really should be doing book reports here, since I’ve taken time to read several things. “The Lotus Eaters,” by Tatjan Soldi, a fictional account of a woman photographer in Viet Nam – good. Got lost in it. “Malled,” by Caitlin Kelly. Upper middle class woman suddenly finds herself working as a clerk, is underpaid and under-appreciated, and she doesn’t like it. Welcome to my world, honey. Except she had a way out. Most people don’t. No whines for you. (Observe my cattiness, and be – I’d say in awe, but running away seems like a better response.)
Anyway. I found a thought for the day. (It occurs to me that this is really dark, too. Wednesdays suck, and thursdays are better spent with my head under the covers. But I did get stuff done today, including setting up an appointment with a chiropractor because apparently most physical therapists don’t do what my P.T down in the little-town-that-could did.)
(And shockingly, no, I am not going to use this as an example of my writing when I apply for the writing consultant job on campus.)
Ideas are the epiphenomena of mental activity, which is in part a physical and physiological foundation for our thoughts. The mind’s complexity will probably never be unraveled. Why should it be except to control it, meaning to be controlled by others? And that control would itself be on behalf of a particular cultural, societal or political intent.
I broke up with Bigfoot again, probably for the last time. At some point in the email yelling at each other, he told me that I expect more than anybody could deliver. It took me a few days, but I finally realized that what it meant was I was asking more than he could deliver, and that it was just another one of those “Don’t ask for what you need” things. And all I was asking by that point was that he not be so crazy.
Strange, how it all circles back in.
And I guess I wouldn’t mind a little more control over my mind.
Anyway. On to accomplish more stuff.