08 August 2020

0 i just want all of the things to happen

because i am terribly selfish. and nonetheless, it seems quite a lot of the things are, in fact, happening. via zoom mostly. and in the weirdly slow burn, footloose rhythms typical of academia. 

but apparently i have a full time teaching job??? with benefits??! pending approval from the provost?? 

the provost moves way too slow for my liking, but then so does everyone else. at applebee's, they told us to always move with an appearance of urgency. legit a lesson that has never left me but with which i would like to live without. 

these things fall together so quickly it is difficult to not feel they will fall apart. 

my computer keeps sending me pop ups telling me that i do not have enough space for the future that is unfolding before me.

speaking to EL, i casually, off-handedly observe that "my plants almost make me feel like i am really here."

this is maybe the most profound distillation of my inner condition in these last twelve months/three years.

i live in DC. i've had a storage space and an apartment and two or three relationships and a cat and, like, five jobs in DC. and yet it's the responsibility of caring for ten plants that almost-- just almost-- makes me feel real. 

i've said it before, but i'll say it again: in the shape of a pocket, john berger writes…

The mouse enters the cage to take a bite. No sooner does he touch the morsel with his teeth, than the trip wire releases the door and it slams shut behind him, before he can turn his head.

It takes a mouse several hours to realise that he is a prisoner, unhurt, in a cage measuring 18cm. by 9cm. After that, something in him never stops trembling.

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