Some Cigarettes

So I was having my bedtime cigarettes after chatting it up with Mani about god only knows what anymore; i was leaning my head against one of those "emergency call" boxes they strap to the bottom of some lamposts and I was staring straight into one of those ads for Heroes they put on the side of phone boths: "It's time to save the world" it said, "04.23.07." Jeez, that's not too far away is it, I thought to myself.

I haven't showered in days. I can feel the accumulating grime in my pores. I'm pretty sure I leave a discernable odor wherever I go, and I haven't gone to class since Tuesday. I'm at best half-assedly trying to catch up on my precious mountains of undone and undoing work but instead allowed my now somehow more generalized and generalizing loneliness embitter and disenchant me of my will to work, to do, to live.

In latin there are two ways, I believe*, of saying "to live." **The one, the more common I suppose, is "vivere" meaning "be alive, live;" "survive;" "reside." The other, usually used more towards 'acting' and 'doing' and 'making [something do something]', "agere" means "stir/drive/shake/move about" (you can see what I meant before about its usuage since all of those conflate, more or less, upon eachother); "revolve;" "live;" "control, ride;" "consider, pursue." I'm sure you see where I am going: therein lies a distinction between a reactive and proactive living, respectively; that is, the former takes up the life as it has been given, the latter goes after the life it wants. It should also be clear how this goes back to the previous paragraph; that is, which kind of "living" has been lacking.

And it's true; I get up when I do and go online, either search through the same old faces/bodies and send the same old messages on RealJock, or I sit before my cam and whore my hideous body on Stickam, or I yet bemoan my existence in blogposts or excitedly talk about "someone" or augur some change for the better this time, and always--always, inevitably--can trace the Slip the losing traction on reality again, the downward tug toward chaos, depressive entropy that never left but rather hid while the townsfolk, the survivors, rebuilt again, the fools, and the beast sitting in its cave overlooking, smiling wickedly to itself as it makes list of all their false joys and hope, and mocks them as it readies.

And I remember wondering what would happen if I pushed either or both emergency buttons--if one one would come, or notice. I remember staring at that ad with all my rue, butg also my exhaustion, and thinking "Where to begin, where to begin/When all of it's so done and over...." Because I find it's much like submission, like giving over, the switch from the specifically proactive agere to the more mundane, domestic house-pet esque vivere; it just happens and you don't have control anymore, aren't interested in trying but surviving instead somehow. And don't get me wrong things do get done, just not how you would have wanted them done.


agere somnium volo vitamque carpere meam. sed damnatus semper sum me esse.

Personally I hate it when I try to use my Latin, my weak and ugly Latin. I mean does that even say I what I meant it to say? Likely not. But as with all my life, it always ends up being so much less.... So you can, by that, cut off this post in your mind as having ended during that double return above the latin and perhaps resuming again in the one following (to get the notes, see). Oh well. So much less.


* There are of course others that can mean "to live" as well--though more indirectly, I believe.
** Here and following definitions provided by Whitaker words; interpretive definitions my own.


Supplemental post on my privater blog.

Anyways, cheers.