I was talking with my friend, one of the smartest people in the whole world. She brings the contemplative out of me. She’s a philosophy major, so sometimes we’ll go on weed walks and I make her talk about all the big dogs: Heidegger, Foucault, etc, etc. Well, we got to thinking about opening ourselves up to living organisms and how scary that is, because things that live move and things that move eventually move away. The homo sapien’s gravitational pull. That’s not a sad notion, or it shouldn’t be. It’s like history dates and mathematical equations. It is. It exists. We can curtain it with inspirational Tumblr quotes plastered over lofty cosmos photography, but that doesn’t rot fact. 

And then I thought that the only organism that can’t escape you is you. But, no no no. Biology. It’s a horror movie. Like cancer, innate cancer, it manifests and masses itself in an organ because of certain DNA correlating with a certain gene or some other internal hocus pocus. But it’s still you. You killing you.

And this destroys my dreams of epistemology and ontological synchronicity. I want body and mind holding hands. I want to trust myself. But I can’t. No one wants cancer, but it comes of the self. We want hearts to stand for love and we want brains to stand for thought, but our hearts and our brains can stop and when they stop you stop. It’s a war within and of the whole. If something like cancer is killing you, Biology is winning against the metaphysical. And what can you do? Things that live will move and they will move away, but show me how I can walk away from the organs running the machine of me so that I’ll never have to worry about me against me.

But that’s it. Me me me me me me me me me. It’s all me. And I can’t claim dominion over all of me, because there are parts of me that can infect the rest of me. Liver and appendix and kidney and brain lobes. They run the whole, but they can quit whenever they want and who knows what makes them want to stop?

It’s all so innate. Even what you think you can control. I was talking about missing people to another friend of mine. I was toiling. I’ve been crying a lot because my comfort girl won’t be with me next year in the fall. Everyone keeps saying that I gotta give that up. They keep talking to me about strength and getting stronger and hell, I’d love to be so strong. I wish I could turn it off. I wish no one ever missed anyone else. But I grow people in me like new bones and you’d cry too if your bones were broken.

We live and move and move away, but sometimes we just stand there and watch other things move and move away.

And we can’t even invest in ourselves, because the whole is made up of all these other wholes.

I guess we just have to make it worth it. Somehow. Live loud, but understand the intimate. Appreciate what isn’t moving away. Appreciate biology when it’s appreciating you.

I always feel like apologizing after writing one of these so… sorry.

Today I found out my default girl won’t be returning to college in the fall. She’s being smart; she’s doing right, but but but. In college you have a wing(wo)man. Your partner. The person you go to dinner with, sit around on the computer with, just waste away the clock with. Your person that you’re stupid with and it’s okay and the quiet is okay too if it comes when the two of you are sitting stupid without smart things to say. My comfort girl, our couch cushion co-existence too sudden to the curb side.

How do you make friends? Really. I can’t say “Hi” in passing without it being a triumph. That’s how I ended up being Hiram’s poster boy for village tours in an ambulance. Putting the extroversion on makes a mess.

Can I just go up to people and say, “SPEND ALL YOUR TIME WITH ME EXCEPT WHEN I NEED TO BE ALONE, BUT YOU’LL ALWAYS KNOW WHEN THAT IS AND I’LL KNOW WHEN YOU NEED TO BE ALONE AND WE’LL NEVER NEED TO BE ALONE WHEN THE OTHER NEEDS TO BE TOGETHER. SO GOOD. LET’S GO TO THE DINING HALL.”

I have a single next year and all I can see is me and Fiona Apple curdling in that square. Maybe I’ll get a rat.

Sorry for the rush of melodrama. I know there is greater devastation. Tumblr has kinda become a ventilation system. I promise I’m funner than this. And “funner” is a word now so shut the fuck up.

I was laying strange yesterday. It was me and me picking at leg pimples that come from so much elliptical time. And I started thinking about weight loss. When I started college I was 6’0” and weighed 293 pounds: too much me. Now I’m teetering a couple pounds over/under 200 depending. The goal is 150-160. Bye bye, bait. I’ve got bones I’ve never even met.

But what I want to know is where it all goes. It melts? Evaporates, sweats, gets gone somehow. But to where? By sexing the elliptical and eating pieces of things, I have made 90 pounds of biology go away. I have disappeared myself.

I am Magician.