Strangeworld

Lord forgive me if I can't properly explain this.

There is a particular type of moment I just came to thinking about. I guess the best way to describe it would be a long moment, somewhere in between watching paint dry and being in the middle of Times Square. A kind of random, honed in moment...

For instance, watching a balloon float into the sky until you can't see it anymore. I can picture the intricate twists of balloons as they fly upwards, their strings loosely tailing behind them with perfect spiraled curls at the end. It's something to stare at even when everyone has moved on from it. There is something about that. Watching something until you can't anymore, until it is truly truly gone. A prolonged period of observation where you truly grasp every detail. I wish I could explain it more technically than this.

Other examples include:
- Watching a bird until it flies away
- Watching an area of cloud warp until it is unrecognizable
- Staring at aircraft or satellites until they are out of view

There is something similar about these things but it is unexplainable. Something about feeling entirely and amazingly present until it is over.

Back in November I was at the Goodwill up in Egg Harbor looking for a DVD player. While I was there, I came across an old Aiwa stereo system with a 3 disc changer and the original stickers still on it. I love the look of old technology like that. The late 90's glossy plastics and interfaces really scratch an itch in me. I've wanted some sort of apparatus in my room for awhile. Now, I'm not experienced with stereo systems in the slightest, nor do I know anything about setting them up or fixing them. I figured while I was there, the thing was only $12.99 anyways, so why not take on a new project and see if it works? I got it on a whim, and when I got home I was quick to start testing it out.

What immediately caught my eye was that the disc changer was skipping a lot, or rather it was just incapable of loading a disc. The cassette player worked just fine, but the volume dial (as smooth and high quality as it seemed) hardly worked. These were the only noticeable issues I found with it, and after doing some research it was clear that these were common problems in these vintage systems even in their heyday. The model I bought, the CX-NA31, was released in 1996 so I had a shred of justifiable doubt. After taking the thing apart and cleaning out the inside with isopropyl alcohol, it seemed as if this one was not stored properly or belonged to a smoker. There was a pretty thick layer of grime on the laser, and I was hoping that would solve the CD "flicking". It did temporarily, but as I've learned the CD players in these old Aiwa speakers tend to crap out rather quickly. It's a shame, because the other hardware in the system was in perfect working condition considering its age. These systems would definitely have a much higher value today if the CD players in them were better, especially since CDs are still a popular physical medium for music. I digress. With the CD player busted, I knew that the stereo probably wouldn't be a permanent addition to my room. Regardless, I got to work on the volume dial immediately. When I took it apart (painstakingly) there was some corrosion of the motherboard and lubricant from the dial was everywhere. It was at that point that I realized I may have wasted $13. I ordered a remote to adjust the volume in the meantime while I worked on the CD player, but I spent all day yesterday working on it and still couldn't get it in the working order I would need to use it regularly. Still, it was fun getting to tinker with an old piece of tech like that. I'm going back to Goodwill today to check out another stereo system I saw there that would work with the speakers I got.

I know it seems sort of weird but I'm walking in there with a screwdriver, a cotton swab, and a Candlebox CD. I need to make sure the laser disc works before I drop money on it. Hopefully they allow me to test it in there. That Goodwill has racks upon racks of technology, from vintage woodgrain speakers to metallic 2000s portable players all the way up to cheugy iPod accessories. It's all sort of thrown carelessly on the shelves in a huge tangle of cords. I've heard that many thrift shops overseas don't take in used technology so I'm glad we have it here. The prevailing problem with having this stuff in shops, in my opinion, is that there is no accessible way to test an item before you buy it. Most people I assume wouldn't want take a chance on something used or have to spend time and money getting it fixed. If there was an area for testing these items, or even just a power strip for fucks sake, I think people would be much more motivated to test and purchase a piece of used technology. With how quickly things go obsolete these days, even if the impact of my proposition is negligible, at least some older pieces could be put to good use again.

I will probably write an entry about the next stereo system I buy. I was honestly very impressed with the sound quality and software performance of the Aiwa. If I'm lucky, I'll find a system that I can use long term in my room. I'm so sick of my smart speakers.

I definitely do not shoplift regularly. I do not steal from large corporations for personal and ethical reasons. I have never gone into a store on multiple occasions and taken merchandise without paying. Shoplifting is immoral and wrong, so here are some tips on how not to shoplift from me (not a shoplifter).

1. Firstly, do not shoplift. Do not become disillusioned with capitalism and American culture. Do not think outside of the morals that you have been raised with and do not challenge authority. Live with what you have always known and feel intimidated by your moral code. It will serve you good to be a consumer, you know, to support the economy.

2. Do not go into Target between 5:00 - 7:00 PM when it is not dead, but not too busy. These are the perfect conditions for shoplifting, and you may develop the urge to steal from these conditions alone.

3. By all means, avoid wearing baggy clothing with lots of pockets and long sleeves. Especially jackets with pockets on the inside. Immoral shoplifting scum hide small and slender items in their sleeves, and put larger items close to their torso, which is wrong and horrible.

4. Avoid using folded clothing as a way to steal merchandise. Do not hide the items in the folds and walk nonchalantly through self-checkout. The underpaid employee watching the self-checkout area cares deeply about upholding the law and will definitely notice if you do this.

5. Do not think they can't see you. Big corporations enlist only the most professional staff to ensure security in their stores. Every night, these employees stay after their 10 hour shifts to watch the security footage intently, and they will find you. Believe that there is no escape from the law, and be comfortable in your complacency.

Remember, shoplifting is a disgusting crime committed by murderous lowlife punks and impoverished mouth breathers. I would know, because I am a normal middle class citizen with unchallenged beliefs (and not a shoplifter).

There is always so much to absorb on my reading page. I'm pretty sure all the world's knowledge rests somewhere on Dreamwidth, even that of ancient texts and times before human history. At least, that's how I feel scrolling through some of these user pages. Middle-aged Dreamwidth writers are immaculate in that they are always raw, calm, and pensive. After a good scroll through my reading page, I feel the complete opposite. Like a thrashing, self-absorbed teenager. It's a bit funny.

I aspire to write with the confidence and grace of the people on this site. There are some deeply intelligent people here, quoting intelligent texts and talking about intelligent things. I know better than to be pressured by that standard. After all, I am in the minority of this website's age demographic and have a long way to go as both a journalist and hobbyist. Reading the work of other users is a potent method for self-criticism. I can gauge what writing styles I prefer and what I need to work on without feeling intimidated by the overstated demand of an audience. This is a good community. I've already come so far as a writer and a person because of my devotion to this journal.

What I want to work on most in my writing is honestly the subject matter. I've had some notable ups and downs with spirituality and the like this year, and now the nature of my content has changed to mostly life anecdotes. I'd like to write more about general ideas that allow me to recount past experiences. I've been thinking of making a list of one-word prompts that are benign enough for me to pick one randomly at any given time and write about it. I'd also like to cite more people or works in my writing and fortify my influences in the emotional and technical capacities.

Although I like to set these goals, what I value the most in pursuit of this journal is sincerity. Everything I say here is reminiscent of who I am as a person and where I am in my life. My goals are not really priorities in that sense, but they are always at the back of my mind. Maybe one day, years from now, I'll be one of those laid back intellectual Dreamwidth scholars, sipping my wine and quoting epic poems in my entries. A kid can dream.

It's been a week since I've written. Sometimes I go through phases where I can't really write much. I wouldn't call it a slump, it's just my attention being allocated to other places. I'm trying to understand my writing habits since I'm still kind of new to this. Recently I've been doing a lot of mindless feeling and not a lot of thinking. I'm happy, though. Happier than I've been in a long time, that's for sure. One of the sacrifices I make for this journal is analyzing the shit out of everything I do as I'm doing it, and sometimes it feels good to shut that down and just exist for a little while. It's like a vacation.

The passing of days has been a sort of motif in the last week, for reasons I can't fully comprehend. I love the feeling of the sun, the humid mornings and temperate afternoons, the cool, breezy nights. I feel in tune with the movement of everything. I wish I could explain it better at the moment, or at least in more detail. I've been everywhere and back this week and seen things I wish I could keep here forever, but I can't write them properly. And maybe that's okay. Whether I write or not, the sun rises and falls in its melodramatic fashion every day and reminds me that I am real, and that's all I can really ask for.

Of course, despite my contentment, not everything has been just peachy. There are a few bumps in the road, things bringing me down and knocking my jive. Gender dysphoria, a rather unpleasant road trip with my mom, my closest friend feeling a bit distant, stuff like that. I've been working through it all as best I can. The same way I wish I were more confident about my reactions to these situations, I could use a bit more conviction. But such is the ebb and flow of being human- never being completely set in our ways. I've said it before and I'll say it again: things will always work out in the end.

And besides, it all seems so trivial to me right now while I'm in this unfamiliar groove. My current fascination is feeling alive. Lately I've found joy in taking long rides with my windows down, eating ice cream right from the container, staring at trees for long periods of time, simple junk like that. It's weird that I can't seem to rationalize why I've been feeling this way, though. Maybe it's hormones or something. Or maybe I'm just turning into one of those chill white hippie moms on Facebook, the kind who sells essential oils and shit. I don't know and I don't really care. I'm just happy.

Once I can write obsessively again, I think it will be the perfect storm. Who knows what narratives will one day be carefully tapped out by these hands. I see great things in my future. Meanwhile, this simple entry took me over an hour to write and phrase properly, and even then it feels lackluster and vague. But if I know me, it will hit me like a brick again one day and I'll be laboring over my keyboard for hours once more. We'll just have to wait and see.

So here I am, fucking miserable.

I might need help if I think I'll hurt myself badly. I tried to mediate the self harm by driving to Brooklyn and back which I guess was a temporary fix, but I basically just sat with my thoughts the entire time and I think that made it worse. My mom is complaining that she hasn't seen me for a couple days and that I've been dismissing her. Maybe because I'm obviously completely unstable and deranged. Or because she terrified me the other day by spouting nonsense about my hypothetical rape and subsequent murder, which I dreamed about vividly last night. I can't cleanse my mind of it at all, amongst all the other stuff. Rape, death, misery, horror, crying, repeat. No one to talk to about it, nothing to distract me. As expected, a myriad of bruises have appeared on my legs and the sides of my body. It hurts like a bitch but at least I don't cut. And I was able to force myself to eat this morning, but I clocked in at 99.0 lbs yesterday so things will probably get worse before they get better.

This is what it feels like to lose control. It hasn't happened to me in awhile, honestly. I know from experience it won't last forever, but that doesn't make it any less painful. Episodes like this don't come out of nowhere, they are triggered by external factors such as overstimulation, interpersonal issues, or medication side effects (at least in my case). It takes a lot of time for me to heal and get back to normal. New surroundings, new friends, new drugs. The longest I will have to wait for things to change is July when I move into my apartment in Galloway. But for the time being, I need to focus on avoiding self harm and psychosis.

I'll let myself be incessantly stoned for the next couple weeks if that's what it takes. This is what comes before healing. I'll be okay.

When I was younger, probably around middle school, I was not yet capable of critical thinking at my current level. I guess I didn't understand it back then, but I have always had the desire to befriend people who don't like me or people I don't like. My inability to rationalize that properly at the time resulted in a primitive analogy that I've now dubbed "The White Box". The idea goes like this: When I see someone who I don't understand or who wouldn't normally give me the time of day, I ask myself what would happen if we were stuck in a seamless white room with nothing in it for a week. The only option would be to talk, and with that much time to waste, we'd be forced to get to know each other, right? When I was young I was certain (and still am) that any two people stuck in the White Box would leave with a deep and mutual understanding of each other. Now I see this crude mindset for what it really is- a test of my patience and ability to empathize. Even back then, I was looking to comprehend the mentalities of all types of people through serious one-on-one conversations, something I now fully understand and search for in my everyday life. The White Box analogy has evolved into me creating opportunities for deep discussion with people who don't demand that type of attention. Once I picked up on this connection, I see that I've unintentionally created white boxes everywhere. My world is filled with white boxes. To elaborate, I will list them here:

A List of White Boxes:

- The three rocks at NJ Botanical Gardens
- My fishing spot
- Adam's White Lexus
- The tube at the Holy Spirit Catholic School playground
- The Trader Joe's Breakroom
- Any private chatlog basically
- Gardener's Cottage in Bar Harbor, Maine

This analogy is not only applicable virtually everywhere, but an easy way to introduce a deep conversation with someone. By discussing the white box, you inadvertently create one. I'm a big fan of this concept. I even explained it to Adam and we joke at work now about wanting to "white box" people. Eighth grade me was really onto something there.

It is 92 degrees out today. I am inside in shorts and a tank top, melting away to Tame Impala and thinking a little too hard, the usual. The world is beautiful today. I feel more comfortable than usual, even with the heat. That is the comfort of being home.

I think I have found my purpose. I want to experience the most I can in this life. I want to be everyone and everything. I desire wisdom that is both real and unattainable; a wisdom so imposing that it's paralyzing. I want to look through the eyes of every person I meet and be void of all judgement towards them. I want to gaze upward towards the sunshine every day of my life and feel the gaiety of Earth's unending warmth, to know that this existence is binary, and to traverse that truth as humbly as possible. More than anything, I want to send forth a love that is profound, ceaseless, and agape. That is all that matters to me.

Right now my constitution is fleeting. The turbulence of my circumstance demands that I be a normal person for most of my day, but in front of my keyboard I can retreat back to this sanctuary and remind myself of what is important. Not purely drug-induced epiphanies or relationships with other people, just myself and my thoughts (and maybe my music). If things are to continue the way they are, this can no longer be my alter ego. I must become a person that does not exist.