I'm not going with the guy. $1600 is fucking ridiculous. I'm just going to program it all myself, somehow. LOL.
I watched "Attack on Titan" with Ameesha on Saturday and it was TRULY AN AWAKENING. I went home on Sunday to do laundry (so much) and listening to my mom shittalk Cindy. She kinda deserves it, tho. My mom also cryptically hinted at her being either a homewrecker or a cheater or a cheated in her grad school days in Canada, because apparently long distance relationships were commonly forged and commonly broken. She just said, "There's a lot you don't know about my life." And then she called me nosy when I pressed for more information. WHO IS SHE EVEN.
This was the first time I'd seen her since she left for China. She talked to me about my grandparents. I would use the Chinese terms, but I don't have the keyboard for it. She sent a photo last week of my grandmother and grandfather holding hands. Or rather, her reaching out to him, both looking frail, desaturated. The photo made me feel awful. The fact that my grandfather's mind has already passed on is a tragedy I have not yet mourned nor come to terms with. The body is such an effective vessel for the mind that it fills in the emotional gaps left by the void of dementia. Even my mom doesn't seem too upset about it. He doesn't remember her anymore, nor me—only his parents, siblings, and my grandmother. I think I'd like to depart from life on my own terms. But I fear death, too. I feel immortal yet fragile. Honestly, this is so fuckign lame, but "Attack on Titan" has given me a lot to think about with regards to the meaninglessness of life and the importance of selflessness, and of living life honorably. Is it terrible of me to imagine receiving the objects that remain after my grandparents' passing? I just think of old dusty journals and drawings they must have made, medical textbooks and plant diagrams. Receipts and silverware (bambooware?). What will become of these remnants? They are in China, so I imagine it'd be hard to transport. I hope my mom doesn't throw anything away. This is making me feel sad so I'll stop for now.
I skipped class on Monday literally to read the "Attack on Titan" manga. I'm such a fucking loser. For three days, I did nothing but read about an anime and click on a cookie for fake cookie money. Brian, meanwhile, was mingling with the world's English Literature elite, crafting syllabi for various classes, and learning to cook complex dishes. So it is.
I didn't have class on Tuesday, so I effectively had a FOUR DAY WEEKEND, because I'm a hedonistic piece of shit. I slept a lot. Barely left my room. Didn't shower. As I look over this I realized I sound depressed—quite the opposite. I enjoy slothing around, stewing in my own filth. I must come to terms with how I've decided to live my life. What will I regret not doing? More importantly, what will I regret doing? (A lot. My bed is so comfortable. Why leave when I can sleep? I need a banqueting couch and some grape-feeding musicians. How they can play the lyre and feed grapes to me at the same time, I don't know—I'll leave that to them [my slaves] to figure out.)
I stayed up LITERALLY ALL NIGHT last night to write my art history paper. It's a pretty good paper, if I say so myself. And yeah, I stayed up all night, but I really only worked on it for, oh, four hours or so. For some reason, I feel like I have to redeem myself. Also, the class is miracuously much more interesting the second time around, so I've been putting in a lot more effort and don't want my knowledge to go to waste.(Is it knowledge? Or is it memorization? I've listened to that Plato episode three times and I still don't understand what "true beliefs" are.)
So I stayed up all night and was delirious all day today. My skin has been bleeding out, and tiny scabs have formed on my face, periodically falling off then regenerating. My bad skin is immortal. Rather than my mind shedding my body, it will be the other way around: my body will shed my mind and continue to live on without me. A zombie.
Anyway I was fucking delirious. It was sad in art history because Allan gave a guest lecture on..."barbaric" art? Like northern invaders to the Roman Empire? He kept calling them barbarians, I don't remember who they actually were. The Irish and German, before Ireland and Germany existed. I stopped taking notes and doodled a lot instead. And something really strange happened. Free from the chains of self-consciousness, my hand freely moved, and my doodles and drawings are some of the best I've ever done (in a casual, unplanned context). Like, I looked over my sketchbook, and I was drawing in the dark so it was hard to see, but my drawings were actually really good. I've improved a lot. Weird how that happens. I should draw more.
After class, I got lunch. And I saw Vincent. Oh...Vincent. I regret ever having wished for him to come back into my life for the sake of entertainment. I just. He talked at me for an hour or so, maybe a little less. He told me all about how he was sick for a week and listened to smutty audiobooks for the sake of entertainment. So I asked what he was reading. It could have bee anything. Thousands of years of literacy, of flourishing human cultures, epitomizing the creativity and intelligence of humanity. Gliding right past Gilgamesh, The Odyssey, Rousseau, Locke, Journey to the West, Dante, Woolf, Beckett, Joyce, Nabokov—and reaching, instead, for "The Mating Seduction of Werewolves." I JUST. I FUCKING CAN'T. I was so delirious I could barely contain myself. Not my laughter. I feared for my life. It was a legitimately creepy conversation. After it was all over I looked down at my shirt and realized that the collar had stretched, immodestly exposing more than my neck. I guess he didn't look. But I wouldn't have noticed if he did. He also said that we should go to lunch sometime. I said, "We literally just had lunch!" He said, "I don't mean here. Like, out, somewhere. We have to make a connection before you leave." I hope this will never happen. The only person I hand out with one-on-one outside of school is Ameesha, and that took a year and a half of living in close proximity. I hope to never be alone with him. I hope he doesn't trap me like Michael trapped Jim.
Class was fine. I napped and then went to dinner with Bree, Sabrina, and Nathan. The three of us have fun together. I'm going to be sad to leave them after I graduate. I had mango green tea and it was GREAT.
I was supposed to have finished my intro animation by tomorrow. Alas. "Attack on Titan" took priority this weekend (and into the weekdays).