Cenobitic Hermeticism

What I find a funny thing is that anyone would do anything personal for the approval of anyone else. I do this all the time. It is a problem. I am unbalanced like a spinning top. Besides my compulsive nature, this is why the internet is no good for me: it is an endless and hopeful pool of reaction. It is the most sophisticated instrument for achieving response.

My new theory is this: when you force yourself to do something continually (say, every day) after a while you are no longer doing it for anyone else. It becomes a reflex. That’s the real reason that you do it often. Not to improve yourself (you are always improving yourself), not so that you have a lot left over when you are done. Not so that anyone will notice you (that is the best part about this blog*). And then, when you are not thinking about other people, you are just thinking about doing, and that’s a fine thing, the finest.

Have I said this before? I have said this before about so many things (comics, writing, work, running, people). Well, it is true. Here is another thing I have said before: I will update this blog every day. Well, why not do that?

*When this blog stalls it is most often because I am thinking “Oh, what will so-and-so think?”, or “What will such-and-such a thing do if I write it?”. That’s an illogical thing to think, because this blog is a wasteland.


Once in a while something happens. I don’t have the exact details. But once in a while if you’ve trained yourself properly something happens and you feel good about it, and later when you look back at that thing and you think: “Oh, I’d forgotten about that, I like that, it seems like it was made by an entirely different person.”

Writing goes in cycles. If you’re ambitious and you’re a bit unsettled and maybe you haven’t found your editors yet, writing goes in cycles because the howling in the fore-part of your brain never stops (I’m sure it never does: see Hemmingway, Ernest; Woolf, Virginia; London, Jack).


I float in and out of reality (that is what I am trained to do). But it’s best when I can keep the bubble upright for a while. Maybe this means lists and planned modes of attack. I tried that recently, in a way, and in that way, it worked. Here is what I tried: I thought, “Even if I am different from these people, they are not my enemies. I will be accommodating–but not too accommodating.” Remember? That’s the essential danger. If you are too accommodating you find yourself falling into people, and they swallow you, and you’ve become a different person, matched up with the wrong enzymes. “But I am not this sort of person,” you want to tell them, or anyone, when you do something that is especially unlike you. But you are that person–in your actions, you are that person–because your mouth can’t open at those moments and you don’t say anything.

That is where insanity comes from.

The home that I live in, the woman that I cannot forgot that I love, those things are guides when I am tempted to try and go too far in my accommodation.

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