mickey mouse freedom
I am beginning to formulate my identity in terms of difference instead of similarity. While previously I could only understand say a homosexual in terms of becoming one or an African-American in similar ways, I am beginng to think in terms of difference. Today, I talked to a thai nurse who nearly died of diarrhea, she told me how she lived in 10 km from a hospital in southern thailand and when she was 7 years old became ill with diaarhea. she met a nurse and became a nurse, such a story interests me becuase what it says about her. I am accepting the difference between ourselves, while I always though homosexuality was tolerable, now I am seeing that for someone else it is justified. Identity has always been a game for me, something that moves around in my consciousness, is manipulated and played with, I understood others by imagining myself as them, now I am taking them more at face value, but what this says about me can be troubling. All of the things I buried, as they say, are they part of me? All of this lexicon of identity, of repression of consideration of change, I went from a soul man to a techno dude in about 5 years, today I made a mix of African music and didn’t want to listen to it anymore, I hated house when I was growing up, am I now stuck some hair length from my original position? The power of external thinking is that you’re more active, you understand other people, wen they tell me at work about their concerns, I understand they aren’t mine, but they mean them seriously, the power of introspection is that you can consistently devise new ways of thought, new means of thinking, how can I land somewhere between the two? or is this naive? does the external thinker have a complexity I’m not quite aware of? obviouslt lying would be one, they would be able to slip out of social situations in ways I don’t understand, but on the other hand, why is me left behind? what about my progress, my change? ahh… well it’s a journal entry. I’m a little lane far off from the apartment. the construction workers are building a new mansion, at night they play music on stringed instruments, the whiney high pitched type of music that Thailand is known for. mosquittos are slowly eating my legs. I continue to daydream about all sorts of things, I understand women more and am slowly being able to identify their thoughts, their patterns, and in that a bit of me.
Entry filed under: media.