i live...

...quite a solitary life. wake up, read, write a little, read some more, wander the sidewalks with otherwise bursting head contained in earphones, imagine myself in the little film always running in my head, of which i'm the auteur and the audience, all conjured up. for no one will ever view this film - just me in unpredictable seizures of daydream and fleeting snapshots of distilled reveries, rose-colored and bursting in the brain.

getting older i see that i'm becoming more cautious, hesistant, even to the point of reluctant, of engaging with people that i know would bear some semblance of artificiality or deceit on my part. i hate acting. i despise pretending. i would rather die with my secrets than share them with a stranger half-hazardly, and most likely my secrets will die with me, scratched into the permanence of silence.

so i lied, this blog has nothing really to do with my life in academia. but perhaps what my life could be beyond its very confines. every day is a war of killing: between reality + imagination. head + heart. how things are + how things should be. need + desire. me + my not-me. you as friend + you as lover. domestic + international habitation. oh, what i'd do to escape such derridean forces of opposition. there. that was my plug for the blog's purpose. when in doubt, drop derrida.