1. today someone said they think i am a work-a-holic, or at least that i would probably become one. i glowed with pride.
2. last night i played dodgeball. i felt secure and had pure fun. afterwards i drank with johnny and alex at a bar. we discussed life values and reasons for action, and i expressed myself exactly and powerfully. i was honest and flippant. in hefeweizen veritas.
3. i like watching ingmar bergman movies alone. if i were to watch one with someone else, i think i would need for us to understand one another fantastically well. being misunderstood in such a context would for some reason hurt more poignantly than being misunderstood, say, in the context of a marx-brothers-film-viewing.
3.31.2011
3.23.2011
2 things today.
1. At some point today, I tensed in anger at something. Some single event which was representative of a general and regular kind of event made me angry, and reminded me of my contempt and hatred for that general and regular sort of event. More specifically, it was hatred of some sort of regular human decision. I felt the need to announce my feelings about this sort of decision: I thought I'd blog about it. But now I totally forget. I forget the particular decision that made me angry, and the species of decision of which it was a member. And it makes me happy I forget. I am happy that it is so psychologically difficult for me to remember those things which stir in me disgust and contempt. I am critical--but my definite and unflinching criticisms are punctuated, isolated, fleeting.
2. I have started writing down and preserving the good ideas students come up with in their homework. It almost feels like stealing!
2. I have started writing down and preserving the good ideas students come up with in their homework. It almost feels like stealing!
3.09.2011
A glimpse of momentary sentimentality between brothers.
During my time in southern California over winter break, many nice things happened. As hoped and expected, I got to spend a good amount of time with the people I love, being silly and being sincere. Many good moments.
The moment I thought was the best was surprising and slight.
The night before I was to catch a flight back to Boston, as I lay falling gently asleep, I was abruptly awoken. I was startled to my core. I freaked out. Jolted from my sleep, I was feverishly gasping "what the hell what the hell what the hell" while frantically grasping at the sheets.
My brother had thrown himself on top of me!! How the turn tables!?? I'm usually the one to throw myself onto him while he sleeps! And here he was, flailed on top of me! Now, Jeff is nowhere close to matching my playful affection (I remain the master at invasive nuzzling, hyper-inane baby talk, etc.,) but Jeff gets full marks for being alarming as all hell. It took a good couple minutes for me to stop huffing from shock, as he laughed on in fraternal schadenfreude.
Jeff was not (just) being malicious in jumping into my bed. He wanted to say goodbye. He expected to be leaving for Seattle within the next couple months, and so thought it might be a long time until we got to see each other again. By his lights, it could have been up to a year if not longer. So he wanted to say bye. Now, my brother's track record does not boast much by way of brotherly displays of affection. It's the kind of the thing I can sometimes vaguely sense, and am always sure of, but which Jeff typically avoids making explicit mention of. So, when he explained to me how we might not see each other for a long time, and that he would miss me, I was surprised anew. I forget the exact words he used, but as we said goodbye I felt he cared for me, and it melted my heart. Faced with his vulnerable expression of love for me and his doubt about the future, I tried to encourage him by chatting with transparent excitement about his plans and by making crafty little verbal jokes with him in the dark. Though, now I wonder how much my enthusiasm and humor were also consolations for my own sadness at parting with him, and for the fear I felt in awareness of my ignorance of our futures and their significance.
Such moments of straightforward emotional communication are probably possible between brothers only after one violently wrests the other from sleep in twisted pleasure at seeing him in helpless terror.
The moment I thought was the best was surprising and slight.
The night before I was to catch a flight back to Boston, as I lay falling gently asleep, I was abruptly awoken. I was startled to my core. I freaked out. Jolted from my sleep, I was feverishly gasping "what the hell what the hell what the hell" while frantically grasping at the sheets.
My brother had thrown himself on top of me!! How the turn tables!?? I'm usually the one to throw myself onto him while he sleeps! And here he was, flailed on top of me! Now, Jeff is nowhere close to matching my playful affection (I remain the master at invasive nuzzling, hyper-inane baby talk, etc.,) but Jeff gets full marks for being alarming as all hell. It took a good couple minutes for me to stop huffing from shock, as he laughed on in fraternal schadenfreude.
Jeff was not (just) being malicious in jumping into my bed. He wanted to say goodbye. He expected to be leaving for Seattle within the next couple months, and so thought it might be a long time until we got to see each other again. By his lights, it could have been up to a year if not longer. So he wanted to say bye. Now, my brother's track record does not boast much by way of brotherly displays of affection. It's the kind of the thing I can sometimes vaguely sense, and am always sure of, but which Jeff typically avoids making explicit mention of. So, when he explained to me how we might not see each other for a long time, and that he would miss me, I was surprised anew. I forget the exact words he used, but as we said goodbye I felt he cared for me, and it melted my heart. Faced with his vulnerable expression of love for me and his doubt about the future, I tried to encourage him by chatting with transparent excitement about his plans and by making crafty little verbal jokes with him in the dark. Though, now I wonder how much my enthusiasm and humor were also consolations for my own sadness at parting with him, and for the fear I felt in awareness of my ignorance of our futures and their significance.
Such moments of straightforward emotional communication are probably possible between brothers only after one violently wrests the other from sleep in twisted pleasure at seeing him in helpless terror.
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