#somewhatbenignselfishness

Was thinking a bit about the divide that exists between academic language and “regular” language. It’s sort of funny to me, and absurd in a way (not that I’m not slightly conditioned to do the same at this point), how archaic and sort of unnecessarily complicated a lot of academic papers and such really are. A thought that struck me was how there are a lot of unnecessary words out there, where any choice is just matter of avoiding sounding colloquial by any means. 

So is width of language always a good thing? Is linguistic choice always a good thing? Would using one language socially be more or less equitable?

I really don’t know.

I’m curious though..

If two words has, let’s say, theoretically, exactly identical meanings, is there a value in keeping both or is there something inherently hierachical about it? I mean, we, as humans, tend to classify. It makes sense from a survival-perspective. Good, bad, whatever comes between. 

And then, can language really be separated from culture? Theoretically you can talk about identical meaning all you want, but is that ever something that exists in the field? What about dying languages? If culture is language and language is culture, then it’s worth protecting, isn’t it? At the same time there is the issue of whether a descriptor can ever be a sufficient approximation of the subject. What does it take to be of  a culture? Can you truly learn a culture or is it just a question of more or less successful assimilation? To know is not to understand.

The issue of being an individual with a relatively high opinion of their own imagination is that on certain occasions you might end up believing that you’ve already considered every conceivable outcome to any situation, an issue that for me ties closely together with perceived meaninglessness. 

The question of what comes next is one that is often met with frustration or plain general evasiveness, even anger. Understandably, of course, since viewing the sequence that will eventually lead to the end of all that has come before, isn’t necessarily a pleasant one. 

I would argue that, while your own death is inevitable and that time only flows in one direction, there are still things out there you can never know, never predict, things that will surprise you. 

Found a squirrel on the way home. Same, tiny friend, same.

I think that hopes and dreams are incredibly difficult to rid yourself of. It’s insidious the way words like that have primarily positive connotations, particularily when the alternative to belief is something so bleak and lifeless. 

I’m not awake much, not in the real meaning; I walk around in a semi-willful state of constant delusion. It’s just strange how it’s gotten to a point where the only true source of a baseline calm that I have are the old dreams. They are peculiar in a way; caring more about what was than what is.

I feel a certain affinity to the cold. I’m not sure if it’s the closeness or the subtle pain and numbness that follows or if it’s something far more complex. Walking does little to settle my thoughts and feelings and to simply endure seems like a somewhat lacking approach, lightly put. As I look around I can’t always ignore that there is no way to fix this, there is no happily ever after, at least not for me. There are no events, probable, or unlikely, that could change it. Even the most favourable of outcomes still has me in them. 

Horrible week so far. I’ve been doing some of what I’ve needed to do, the most important things, at least that’s one way to see things. 

Contempt by Assemblage 23

Need to make cinnamon buns to my entire corridor, so that’s a challenge, not the baking, just the managing to avoid every single one of them while I’m doing it. Cause that’s how normal people do it. Right. 

Sleep is problematic as usual. You can’t just lie in bed until you fall asleep five hours later. Bad idea. You can’t go to bed when you know you will fall asleep since that'll effectively push forward that point several hours every day. Bad idea. You can’t go to bed when you’re upset, something that gets increasingly likely the more tired you are, or you’re going to have a bad time. Holy hell are you going to have a bad time. Bad idea.