Journal of a Radical: what it’s like to be alive (2)

Radical means I have to write about things that I’m afraid to say out loud. Maybe, things I am ashamed of. Things I was wrong about.

The endless scrolling of thoughts, that if I let them past, they will be lost as if they had never existed, in an Orwellian way.

Radical means admitting things about yourself that you don’t like. I say them in my head. Sometimes I even say them out loud. Others are too shameful to call into breath.

Trying to de-program is mushy. The illusion of identity causes you to slide from one kind of concrete thing to the next. Ideology is an ocean. It’s about trying to bring the subconscious to the surface. I can feel the thoughts racing in my brain, I can’t always control them. Sometimes the deep echos ring through or I can listen to them through the chatter of other thoughts but it’s so illusive and you can’t remember where you started. I need to slow down. Breath deeper. But I wonder if I would be as smart as I am if I didn’t think so fast.

Sometimes I think I can feel the part of the brain I am thinking in. I wonder if this is real. Wish I could have scientific confirmation —

I wonder often about my brain capacity. I wish often for scientific confirmation. I wish I had longitudinal studies of my brain so I could track progress.

I feel very lonely, in a human way. In an existing kind of way. Like no one can hear me. In the ways I cannot escape myself an the small room inside my head, and no one can know what’s happening. In the way that most of life is lived in secret.

It occurs to me that superiority exists in reality, and it’s not something that has been invented, though surely propagated.

Healthy food is superior to unhealthy food. Education is superior to work. Clean is superior to dirty. Physical superiority has attributed to male domination. Denial of these realities of how dominance works, we cannot accurately combat them. Physical superiority of men cannot be denied if we are to liberate ourselves from them, it is an integral part of their dominance, such as access/capitol to maintain a healthy diet.

This doesn’t mean, necessarily, that shame should play a factor in our theories. When I pass someone who is dirty in a store, I might get the feeling that I think less of them. Especially if they smell. It is a visceral response, which is part of the pathology of dilineating social groups and turning one another against each other.

I remind myself that they are human. Their habits both do and do not define them. It’s complex. It’s too big for me sometimes. Which is how the cycle works. The emotions from the chemical reactions in front of you take over. It’s impossible for them not to. The only way to stop the chemical reaction is to not expose the chemicals in the first place. That’s from Dexter.

I’m terrified of plagiarism. I don’t have a good memory. I don’t know where certain ideas came from. Are they mine? Are they original? Now that I’ve read it ten times, it seems familiar. Have I read it somewhere else?

I have spent time digging through google trying to find words written in my notebooks that I think other people have said. It’s infuriating.

As if the neurons in my head could ever belong to someone else.

I’m tired. I miss heat and fire, and I want to get off the ride.