it's 10:39 am, on August 15, 2006 - flesh wound.

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I realized yesterday on the subway that everything that occupies my time and mental energy lately is a kind of consumerism. I'm currently consuming between two and four books a week. I'm occupying my time with thoughts of producing things - photographs, carpentry, screenplays, paintings. Producing things. When I'm not thinking about these projects to bring into being more things people don't need, I'm thinking about acquiring more things myself - either knowledge for no reason, dvds, furniture. Acqusition and production really does rule my life right now.

After this somewhat disturbing revelation, I realized that in essence, I don't want any of these things, either. I don't really want to produce yet another thing that is irrelevant in the long run - I don't really want to produce a painting that will inevitably be thrown out, I don't want to waste time on something useless. But I don't have anything else.

So, as Albert says, when one ceases to want, does one cease to exist?

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moving truck dilemma - October 28, 2015
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bruise - June 29, 2015

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