UNDERNEATH

Hello, my name is Alex, and I am consumed by the will to live. 

I am currently listening to a newly found artist, Lorenzo Senni, who makes intensely meticulous trance compositions. Something I applaud him for. He is from Italy, and apparently there is an entire underground scene emerging around this lost electronic musical genre of trance. I also found a different artist that makes the same sort of music that Lorenzo makes, yet a little more unpolished and human, not to say that Senni’s music is lacking a personality to it, but his music is left unscathed by the mastering process. 

I have found myself listening to the track xAllegroX often today. I enjoy how repetitive it is, but it still remains ambiguous. I like how something can be so well defined in its trajectory, but not be tamed by the fact that it is consistent. That’s how I feel about trance music so far. It feels mechanistic and so planned to the point of feeling alien almost. I want to feel alien. Trance music makes me feel alien. 

I haven’t written in a while due to my aunt dying. 

let’s talk about death and stoicism. 

Hello my name is Alex, and I’m insecure about sounding smart, and how fast I type. 

 Yesterday night was the end of my obligations for the semester, and now I can do what I want for the next four weeks; a situation in which I’ll be frightened and excited at the same time. I’ll do my best not to waste time and succumb to the ego. Thoughts are just chemical impulses that don’t actually mean anything. My friend Noah said that no goal is too lofty in his opinion and I’ll carry that throughout these four weeks. It should be a good exercise in self control. Nothing else. I need this just as much I don’t think I need it. 

Right now I am listening to MIKE, a rapper from New York. I’m not sure if he’s really popular at all outside of New York, but he has crazy bars. He’s only 18 and he sounds as if he lived for 100, honestly. I know this probably sounds dumb and corny, and that I sound like a white kid preaching about current eminem having the best lyricism right now, but MIKE is insane with his wordplay. For example, one time he said “it sucks being grown” and I would have to agree. 

So plan going into the break: 

make music

read

be around people 

Hello, my name is Alex, and today is the last day of the semester. 

I am listening to Actress right now. He makes weirdo left-field electronic/house music. I like this type of music the most probably. My second being weird, experimental rock. I like weird music and weird ideas. I recall learning of the word Dilettante, which means to like something, and act as if you are a part of the culture, when in fact you are just obsessed with the idea of knowing about it. I think I described that correctly. 

The song I’m listening to is called “DANCING IN THE SMOKE” which has loud synth stabs at irregular time intervals, but has a solid base of steady house drums. It is challenging to listen to at parts. 

Yesterday I discovered the band stereolab and really enjoy their song “Diagonals”. It has a woman singing throughout in French. Maybe I’m attached to the foreign personality of it, and would not be surprised that it stems from a longing for romance. The orchestra swells and hard groove lay a nice foundation for the entirety of the song. 

Hello, my name is Alex, and today I had doubts about writing. 

Normally when I write, or expose my personal thoughts like this it is because I am sad. Right now, I am not sad; I just found answers to something very important in order to get a B in one of my classes, the philosophy of logic. Today I care less about Brie, probably because I’m focusing on myself more, and have been disillusioned by the prospect of a romantic relationship. People are just people. 

Yesterday I teased at the idea of getting a tattoo on my wrist. It would be “y=x” the math equation of the linear line. However, the meaning is, obviously, a tad more in depth than that. To me, it means that everyone is equal irregardless of personal accomplishment. Humanity is finite and whatever humanity does, however strong, will not prevail. Not to sound pessimistic or like a misanthrope, but I genuinely believe that it does not matter. I now hate that I’m elaborating on this fact; I sound like I’m 14 again, having just read one dystopian novel. Well, maybe I don’t actually embody the idea that nothing matters. Thanks to writing I am now experiencing cognitive dissonance. I love life. So does my biology. My internal biology loves life. Just like yours. 

Hello, my name is Alex, and I turn 20 years old on May 20th, 2018. 

Wait no, actually the 19th. I honestly fucked up my own birth date. 

Today I’m obsessed with the idea of electronic music, which is not unusual, and I’ve been liberated from all things social media recently. I usually compare myself heavily to the kids I follow on instagram or snapchat, so I’ve taken a brake. I also do not want to know that Brie exists. 

I feel better about myself today. I just saw that I’ve received a B for the first time in University, and I couldn’t feel better. I put in maximum effort for a B, but not enough effort for an A. I enjoy that for some reason. 

Last night I started reading the introduction to Crime and Punishment, translated by, I forgot, but it was mainly about the themes and comparisons present in the book. Apparently Dostoevsky was beleaguered by thoughts of materialism vs. the human condition. I also am obsessed with this idea, although he has stated it more eloquently than I have in my head. 

Two nights ago, my friend said that people who eat meat are “stupid” and she equates the consumption to that of cigarettes. I formulated a private response to this argument in my head last night. Obviously, I didn’t feel comfortable dissenting with her opinion, so I did it alone in my head, as I usually do with everything personal. There is no chance I really let people in. I feel weird. One time my friend said if he can’t pee he imagines his mother’s face in the toilet, and he is instantly able to pee. If he can express something so deeply personal, why can’t I? Maybe because I just like to observe rather than to express, which is characteristic of an introvert, but I hate the idea of being more introverted than extroverted because it seems pretentious. I hate pretense and lies. 

Hello, my name is Alex, and today I woke up at 10:10 Eastern Standard Time. 

I woke up with nothing specifically on my mind. I remember last night I might’ve dreamt about Brie. It was fun to think about. Right now I’m listening to Kamasi Washington - Miss Understanding. It is fast. I like very intense, dramatic music. Most of the music I enjoy could be described with the term “masturbatory”. A kid at a party I went to once used that term to describe a band called the Marching Church. The lead singer from Iceage is in it. He said the sound is like Iceage, but to another extreme: masturbatory, and now I understand what masturbatory means, and why the band Marching Church fits that description. 

I like learning. 

Today I will not be conquered by voices that scream at me from the inside like a canary that disrespects it owner for placing it in a cage. Is that a bad analogy? Did I try too hard? 

Also, I unfollowed Brie’s spotify account so I didn’t have to see her existing as normal. I couldn’t really deal with that; I found myself too fixated on the idea that she may be interested in what I was listening too, or fantasizing about how I could show her new music or her thinking I’m cool because I listen to weird, obscure music. I came to a sudden realization yesterday that there is in no way a practicality to letting someone take over your whole mind. I’ve only known her for maybe three months if that. 

Conclusion: I’m not practical. 

Hello, my name is Alex, and today I biked up a steep hill on a fixed gear bike. This felt  liberating, but after I got off the bike, reaching my destination, I thought of my current reality and couldn’t handle it. Physical activity is an escape for me, a healthy coping mechanism. Again, I write only when I’m sad. Hence, I am sad and currently writing. There is not much other to describe my sadness than describing a girl named Brie. She is nice to think about, very quirky, but has a healthy amount of discernment in her life. I want to argue with her about something that doesn’t matter. Earl Sweatshirt once told me in a lyric that he broke up with his girlfriend because they didn’t argue enough. I like that lyric. 

With Brie I am reading Crime and Punishment. Brie is not a god, but currently she is affecting my mood in the same way in which A god would probably affect someone’s mood. Notice how I didn’t capitalize god. I think of God in the same way I think of infinity. Incalculable. Even if you think you grasp infinity, you can’t. Sometimes infinity can be paradoxical, though. There is a famous mathematical situation in which you can’t find the surface area of a given object, Gabriel’s horn, but its volume is finite. That’s incredible. 

I fucked up the very first question on my math exam the other day. It was the integral of xe^((x)^2). I tried to use UV substitution when the integral was easily evaluated using u substitution. I hated myself for it and considered emailing my professor to convince him I know how to do the integral, but I can’t now. I fucked it up. 

Is this overtly sad? I can’t tell. 

I want Brie to read this and the other things I’ve written on here. That wouldn’t be optimal though; I like her more than she likes me, and I hate myself for that. 

She slept with me twice, not sexually, and subsequently told me she wanted to be just friends. Thanks.