Acid

Today I was listening to a short story called "Emergency" by Denis Johnson. The storyline basically is that an orderly and friend find some LSD (thanks) in a cabinet of the 1973 hospital in which they work, drop it, and mostly imagined hilarity ensues. The story was entertaining and well written, and the commentary before the reading spoke of incongruous events, but about halfway through I started getting dizzy and feeling frantic and sick, and I had to turn it off. My day had been productive, but that kind of multivalent productive--lots of computer work, to and from my car, looking at apartments, etc--where 10:00 felt a lot like 1:00. Dizzy, sick, I had to turn it off.

Shortly after he died, I was reading a collection of short stories by David Foster Wallace. I got to "The Girl With Curious Hair" (also the name of the collection), got halfway through, and the same thing: dizzy, naseated. Had to put the thing down.

The ride home from Scanner Darkly was really similar, a friend talking me down. And I stopped Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (which I now own and have still never finished) midstream--I was dozing, sleep-deprived--and had to leave my apartment and walk around the block.


I think I can imagine the appeal of taking acid. Something about getting outside of your brain, about creativity and maybe about giving up control and that being really enlightening. And I think the physiology of drugs is fascinating--it was my favorite unit in Psych, and one of my favorite convo topics when I hung around more with people with experience. I don't know, maybe I would really enjoy a good trip, but the idea of losing control, losing track of time and reality for any period of time terrifies me. Sort of irrationally I think.


I write and want to teach writing. A lot of what I teach is how to pull a reader along an argument--striving toward some kind of logical linearity. A means B means C (or whatever). I know that this is sort of a naive and formalistic understanding of argumentation, but I think that at the level I teach, it works. It feels like I'm teaching fundamentals. But I like finding relationships between facts and arguments. I like putting these things in order.


I had a discussion with a friend (and later with my sisters) about plans. I like plans. I like to know plans. If there's not a plan but there should be I stress out. I don't have to plan, but I need to know there is one or that there doesn't need to be one. I like to print out maps so I don't have to rely on someone else's directions (which I may forget or not be able to conceptualize--you know? when they've listed the fourth turn and "you should turn north along Miller and follow it down the hill" and everything jumbles and you have no idea where you should be? And everyone's waiting for you? Eeeckh), I like to know what other people are wearing (or turn up in torn jeans and feel uncomfortable all night?) or bringing or going to eat. Not because I need people to do what I say, I just feel better if I know there's some sort of defining logic.


So. Does anyone else get jittery around acid? Is this totally neurotic? There's probably something more here...

The things I'll do

for a free t-shirt.

Dear Loose Ends: (disclosure)

So I thought I could get away with avoiding you all forever. Or that the loose-endiness would just disappear or I'd grow up or something. Turns out I was wrong and we're going to have to interact. I'm going to have to deal with the all of you. And I'm no more prepared to do it than I was when I ran away the first time.

Instead of, like, living in awkwardness, or confronting each other, what do you say we fight? KE+loose ends cage match? You can all take me on at once, if you'd like, just as long as we can get over this and so my stomach doesn't shrivel and dance every time I see your names?

As far as I can tell, this may be our only shot at normalcy.

You're lovely, all. ke



The less/more cryptic issue is this: isn't it weird the way that we are forced back into situations? I find myself in this weird repeat cycle. Like. I work with 19 year old boys. They're nice and lovely, but I keep doing ridiculous awkward things and then flashing back into the MTC: me+4 elders and all the weird competition and feelings of incompetence and marginalization come flooding back. I still admire those kids, but it sucked a lot. And I didn't know what to do or how to act and I hated it.

And BYU. I thought I'd left all the drama behind because I left. But no. It's there still. Waiting for me.
And knowing that it's all in my head doesn't really help, actually. It would be better if everyone knew because at least then my inexplicable behavior would make sense and everyone could be awkward together and realize that it's not that I'm socially inept (entirely) but just that there's weirdness and the weirdness is chasing us and threatening to eat out our innards while we watch, screaming. Maybe I should make t-shirts or something:
There is Residual Weirdness.
For No Good Reason I Haven't Forgiven You.
What is Your Problem?

Aaach. In all honesty I feel trapped by all these emotions that I hate and am not sure how to overcome.

Too much honesty probably. Mom: you don't need to worry, I'm just venting. Loose Ends: I'll figure it out, no worries.