Monday, December 22, 2008


I am listening to Pioneers, Tunng's cover of the Bloc Party song.

I am trying to write a couple of courses, one on fraud awareness, the other on a housing scheme.

I don't enjoy authoring. I have some sort of mental block that makes it hard. Recently, my boss said she would give me more money for authoring, which is nice.

I prefer to be on autopilot. I've played a lot of poker that way. That's probably why I'm not very good at poker. I mean, compared with you, I'm good (unless Daniel Negreanu happens to be reading this), but in the big scheme of things, I'm not.

I could probably make $20 an hour playing poker. That's a bit so near, so far when it comes to my goal.


I am listening to Cosy in the rocket by Psapp. It's the theme from Grey's Anatomy, if you watch that.

Why is it Grey? She's American, right?

The other day, I was looking at my arm, and I started thinking about the bones of my forearm, and for a moment, I could see them. It's unpleasant to remember that you are made of blood, bone and stuff.

I would prefer to be entirely digital, made from ones and zeros. Then I would not decay so long as I was backed up.

Which makes me wonder. My mp3 collection was damaged by the disk it was on falling over. But I've mostly reassembled it. What could be made of us if we were broken and remade?


I am listening to Never content by Air France. This is not my itunes on random; it's a playlist I made the other day to try out the CD player in my car. It's all unobjectionable stuff that if Mrs Zen hears it, she won't freak out.

The problem with poker is to figure out the best route from here to where I want to be. It should be possible to get there. I simply need to rid myself of the fear of success.

LOL. I made that sound easy, but it's like saying "I simply need to fly".

It wouldn't be sustainable in any case. I realise that. I'm too old for dreams. They are ground down by reality, to the point that all you have is a palmful of dust.


I am listening to Like a call by Architecture in Helsinki. I don't listen to it closely enough to grasp the lyrics, but it is the sound of loneliness to me.

I know loneliness. It is a constant in my life. I suppose I could do things to be less lonely, but none of them seems the answer somehow. It seems to me you can be lonelier when you are with the wrong people than you ever were on your own.

I used to talk a lot to S, and felt a lot less lonely when she was around. But it was a mistake to invest so much in someone so borderline and so deeply selfish. A person cannot be a good friend if they do not understand that even if they don't want to, they have to give you what you need some of the time. In any case, I used to be able to delight her, and I enjoyed having that ability, but it waned, for whatever reason, and I don't feel she enjoys my company at all any more. That and an obsession with roleplaying on websites have led her into a wilderness where I cannot reach her any longer.

I am sad about that, but not so much that I dwell on it.


I am listening to Up a tree by the Beloved. It's a session track that they did for John Peel, before they went all dancey. They were, I suppose, New Order copyists and I liked them a lot back in the day. But the arc of their career headed upwards and the amount I liked them downwards.

I feel sadder about Sharon. I let her slide and I don't know why to this day. I do that though. I can't be bothered, or can't convince myself that others are bothered about my bothering. It's easy to spiral into loneliness when you are the kind of person who needs to know they are wanted, when you want to please but do not know how to.


I am listening to Ghosts by Ladytron. The album, Velocifero, was a bit disappointing, but Ghosts is ridiculously good. It's like someone used the Dr Who theme as the basis for a huge pop song.

Do you ever ask yourself, what would I change? And do you also ask yourself, what would make me happy?

I rarely ask either question, but I think I'm aware that they are meaningless unless you can ask a related third, would what I would change make me happy?

One question I would like an answer to is this: what is possible for me at poker and when will I achieve it? It's a more complex question than it looks, because it has several answers, I think, not least because there are stages that I could attain. I'm more interested in this answer than I am in knowing how I can get there. (Which is obviously part of the answer, I suppose.)

I'd settle for knowing that I could sustain, say, 12% at the 11s, or at the 12s, or whatever.

Don't confuse yourself though. It's not simply a matter of playing 5K 11s and getting there. That would take ages! It's a matter of knowing now what I should pursue.


I am listening to I stand corrected by Vampire Weekend, which is followed by 1234 by Feist. I'm a sucker for literate pop. I'm actually pretty fond of illiterate pop too, because I've always liked a good choon.

BTW, I've stopped moderating my comments. Because it is the season of goodwill, I am going to allow those I've made unwelcome to post comments. Of course, if you were smart enough to realise how boring it is to be onedimensional and try to troll me/upset me/whatever it is you are trying to do by posting dull/spiteful/unreadable comments, you wouldn't have been banned in the first place. So I don't expect any improvement.

I like reading comments though.


I am listening to The broads by Minotaur Shock. It's Naughtyman's song.

He is wearing orthotics in his shoes and splints on his feet at night. He visited a podiatrist and she prescibed them. He has a funny loping walk that I suppose they will "fix", but she says that he is probably in pain whenever he walks, and his hips are out of whack, so it's for the best.

He is astonishingly beautiful. I don't know how you can not damage a boy like that. He is gentle one moment, wild the next, hard to understand, sensitive.

He is a junior Zen. I suppose I will consider it a triumph if he does not lose his boyness and become a shell of a man.

But so many of us do.


I am listening to Katy song by Red House Painters.

I feel sorry sometimes that I am not the person people want me to be. But other times I feel sorry that they do not want me to be the person I am. And other times again, I feel that I am not the person I am either, but who else am I if I am not?

I noted that Father Luke posted that one should be true to oneself. But I do not have a self to be true to, or if I do, I do not know what it is. I think that is the only thing I lack, but no one is likely to give me it for Christmas.

My playlist is ended now. I don't know why I think I would feel better if I went home. Maybe home is a broader concept than just an island off of Europe.


At 3:15 pm, Blogger Miz UV said...

I used to suspect that the lack of a feeling of self somehow went with my atheism, but a believer said she has it too, so I don't know. Maybe it's something in how one is treated by parents; my girls both have strong senses of self. We didn't drag them all over the fucking country and make them feel as though their childhoods/friendships meant nothing, so perhaps that has something to do with it. Or not.

Yes, I'm being unfair. You have to go where the jobs are. Whatever. That doesn't mean there aren't consequences.

I wish you some unexpected joy this holiday season, Z.

At 8:45 pm, Anonymous Anonymous said...

boots sez:

"I simply need to rid myself of the fear of success."

While you're about that, take another moment and rid yourself of all your other fears too. One's really not more difficult than the other. Simple as flying. Simpler really, to rid yourself of fears you only need to defy death, not gravity.

People use the phrase "death defying" to describe some potentially hazardous act. But defying death isn't so frightening a thing really. You just say "go for it asshole" (in full knowledge and certainty that you are right) and either you get past that fear or you die, in which case all your problems have been permanently and instantly solved.

Of course if you've a family it takes a certain level of selfishness to defy death. Freedom and selfishness are inseparable really, so one has a choice between being a slave to the needs of others or a selfish cunt.

"I'm too old for dreams. They are ground down by reality, to the point that all you have is a palmful of dust."

That's the conventional thought on it all right. Codswallop but conventional. What is this "reality" of which you speek, that is more powerful than your spirit?

If it's just beating your ass like a prison guard, kill the fucker in its sleep.

"BTW, I've stopped moderating my comments. [...] So I don't expect any improvement.

I like reading comments though."

Lordy. Well you can count on me, bro.

"And do you also ask yourself, what would make me happy? [...] I suppose I will consider it a triumph if he does not lose his boyness and become a shell of a man."

Kids learn the truth from their parents whether we lie to them or not. Be more than a shell of a man and he will learn it from you.


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