i feel like sleep is the consummate form of ambivalence. 0 1 0 1 sleep lets you evade choice. i don't know what i am doing here in buffalo. small things matter.. going to parties, concerts, walking around parts of the city.. and i combat the frustration of living at home again with long naps.

i imagine my ambivalence at school translates into doing homework. i have the choice of either failing or trying really hard to do well, so instead i settle for simply going through the motions of doing work. if i had my choice right now, i would be shooting amazing photographs, or playing amazing guitar or having amazing sex -- but my existence is one of mediocrity. i peruse over jeff buckley tabs, toss my camera into the bottom of my bag whenever i go out, and conjure up fanticiful meetings with lovers that climax at sleep, rather than orgasm.

sometimes too much of my life is lived in my head, and i feel that it is responsible for killing activity. then, sometimes, i wonder if my suppression of imagination strikes me with a second sword. all i know is that the things in my life are far too intangible for my liking. there are pictures in my head but no poems, grand ideas and theorems but no realism that forces them into being, and no skill.. there is nothing that i can make with my hands. i lack vocation, but i also lack intellectual projects. i am sick of this human existence thing, because even it is not instantiated in a vital way. Common humanity remains obscured, even when i strip myself down to the essentials. my life is both pedestrian and transitory. i digress. i think i will sleep in the new year. nothingness is not simply the absence of beauty (and ugliness), it is the absence of logical action. its the point at which i logically arrive