Tuesday, May 24, 2016

Where are the decadent poets who curse at the stars? (Journal Post)

[From November 8, 2008]

I need a program, both for my life and for my philosophy. I feel as though I am getting caught in a certain mediocrity in both areas. I know, in part, why this is, at least for philosophy. There are two factors: 1. I have spent so much time working on my dissertation proposal that most of my philosophical efforts have been in the area of Nietzsche’s epistemology and it is difficult to see how I might have time in the next few years to pursue my other interests. 2. My coursework is such that I am spread so thin that I cannot focus on any single text or problem. I feel all over the place, like I can’t concentrate. Even as I sit here my mind wanders to and fro without a mooring. Next semester after I defend my proposal I intend to spend half of my productive day working on my dissertation, but I also plan to spend the other half of my productive day reading outside my area, outside Nietzsche in both Continental and analytic philosophy, thinking about problems that interest me and expanding my knowledge beyond the narrow realm of my Nietzsche specialty.

bridge wine tempranillo
Me by the Duero River in Peñafiel, Spain
In my broader life, I feel trapped. The women I've been meeting for dates bore me and try to get me to fall in love with them, and the people who I have considered my friends I find insipid, dull, weak, and completely caught up in norms and values that I want no part in. Why is and why has it always been so hard for me to find, make, and keep friends? I find myself despising people. I only seem to like people I date until I can fuck them, and then when they demand too much of my time, I completely lose interest. Part of me just wants to completely lose myself in my studies, discovering everything there is to know about art, culture, and philosophy and just forget about developing relationships with people whom I know I will either let down or they will let me down. I’m not afraid of betrayal. Rather, I am just afraid of not being interested or interesting and of being disgusted or bored to tears. Where are the irreverent, angry, non-conforming decadents who want to compete with one another and build each other up, create new ways of thinking, don't give a fuck about prudish bourgeois mores, write poetry, and who end every evening with by cursing at the stars or by taking someone home. Why is everyone in search of love? Where is the search for an unconventional, non-conforming greatness of character? I'm still looking.

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