Happy birthday

Well today I turned thirty. I felt the occasion called for me to write something reflective but why did it have to take this birthday for me to do it? I could just as easily have done so two and a half years ago one evening. The only difference is just the passage of time. It’s not like by the dint of this arbitrary milestone I reached some higher plane of existence. Some feel pressured to justify or vindicate themselves in some fashion to account for any lost time. I divorced myself from such sentimental nonsense, so I am fortunate to not feel pressured to justify my existence to a world that is indifferent to my passing. Why should we even care that we “lost time” when the scope of that concept is limited to just “opportunities that slipped from our fingers” and does not take into account the burdens we inherit from everything we acquire? I will admit, my difficulties and emotionally crippling incompetence could have something to do with me adopting such a nihilistic outlook; it’s easier to forgive yourself when you focus on just how shitty and rigged the game is. At least I am self-aware and honest enough to own up to that possibility.

Despite having a personally vested interest in remaining tepid I decided to cast the house's loaded dice, all in the spirit of today. Knowing that today is just another day like all the ones before it should not interfere with any effort to consolidate my years. Western intellectualism demands that we employ only truth and reason in all things. Well then tell me this. If you explain to a man that is intent on drinking himself to death that his anguish is in reality caused by some sort of serotonergic/dopaminergic dysfunction, damage to the hippocampus, or a problem with his brain’s reward center, is that going to really lift his spirits? To be fair, it could set him on the right direction to getting the right medical help he needs. The point though is to illustrate that it is not just a question of truth but what we really need to persist in life. The placebo effect is a powerful enough force that pharmacological studies must always take it into account. It is the power of belief that drives men to obstinately push forward in the face of futility. That and an effective use of neurotransmitters.

So I started remembering why I originally set out to pursue a degree in electrical engineering. It was all because of Ghost in the Shell. I want to help make cyborgs a reality. Maybe even make an army of them and bring this world to its knees. Despite being forced to acknowledge that I lack the talent and working memory to become a contributing force I have no choice but to push forward. I started this madness, I might as well see it through to the bitter end. It would seem that all I am capable of bringing to the table is just hopeless obstinance and grim determination.  

So all in all happy birthday to me. 

A sick ass group that has become a mainstay of mine. Some Symphony of the Night level badassery.

Another ominously riveting performance from the group D'va;;;;;;;;;;;5 The main artist -45, earns my profuse praise for employing the use of hallowed chamber vocals and an organ that moves with the undeterred might of a condemned conscript resolved to make his last moments worthy of legend. All of which work in concert to plumb the depths of your viscera to unearth and revitalize the formidably obstinate and resolute dignity that is buried underneath a crippling heap of lost moments. That would be the very best way I can characterize his music. For such a long while a worthy comparison has eluded me. I am content to have finally found it.

The Hikokkomori of the Opera

The first day of freedom that I have earned by successfully completing a semester of school is spent by submerging myself in the abjectly alleviating isolation which has never failed to mend my bones.

In the small confines of my room I feel most at peace. This self imposed incarceration is anything but when my tea is complemented with everything the Internet has to offer. Books from my Nook, the science articles I read from, meditation, my varied taste in music, and Japanese anime can keep me embroiled for hours. Before I know it the day has slipped from my fingers.

The only worry I have is that my time spent in isolation might leave me regretting that I never truly lived my life. Then again, what does it truly mean to live a life and why should we do so according to some romanticized ideal that is propagated by the unquestioning likes of us? Whether we feel fulfilled scaling mount everest or binging on an anime marathon, all that matters is that it fulfilled the same need.

Our incessant need to validate the small part we play in this indifferently chaotic world never fails to make us regret the road we did not travel.

Listening to Elfen Lied's Lilium is what prompted me to write another one of the chilling reflective pieces that you are all so fond of reading. I know it has been quite some time since I last blogged. I could blame school but that would not be sufficient. I could just as easily have set aside some time to continue writing but it would seem that I value meandering the vast expanse of cyberspace more than being consistent with my blog.

For the sake of my mortal soul I must devote myself to my blog because writing soothes my spirit in ways that my hermetic indulgences cannot. Like a coquettish courtesan who is as dexterous with applying Tiger Balm as she is with applying the rest of her charms. No, the solace I take from writing has a quiet and gentle dignity that cannot be compared to something so vulgar. I will let you know when an apt metaphor comes to me.

It all began with Xenosaga

"Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone. . ." To think it was Xenosaga Episode I: Der Wille zur Macht, a Japanese video game, which originally exposed me to that quote. It truly does illustrate the finer points of learning scripture. Irrespective of what theological position you may hold, those finer points remain undulled. Even Friedrich Nietzsche had aspirations of becoming a priest throughout his entire early life. 

Come to think of it, it was that game which sparked my love of Nietzsche. It all began after I looked into where the second half of its title came from. I should play it again whenever I have the opportunity. We all need to return to our roots from time to time lest we lose grip of what we are. I just need to find the patience for JRPGs again lol.

This makes me question if there is any genuine need for us to exhume our past. Aside from appeasing the sentimental whimsy that escalates with age. The flow of time continuously erodes our essence. Why should we make the attempt to recapture moments that have long drifted away from us? I guess that is a question that I will have to present to Marcel Proust or even better, a neuroscientist lol. 

I suspect this is where my abysmal memory comes from. A side affect of relegating my waking moments to the crumpled up scrawls of a failed novella.

Here is my favorite scene from Xenosaga.

 

An Eclipse of Hope

Lately my posts have taken a more maudlin direction. I promise to make it up to my readers by writing something more engaging. For the meantime I ask for you all to wait until I can invoke a fit of buffoonery worthy of placing on the printed page.  

Today we were given an opportunity to finish where we left off for an exam for intro to electrical engineering. Even so, I was only able to complete half of it. The nights I poured into it out of preparation went to naught. I left feeling dreadfully hopeless about my future prospects and my overall competence. On the drive home I turned to this song in order to soothe my nerves. It took some of the edge off but I still had to overcome a sort of hollow sensation that comes from having your chest and guts scooped out.

After driving for a short while I realized that this new disappointment which made its debut on the center stage is completely overshadowed by all the others which formed the definitive backdrop of my life. All of the time I lost in my youth to this paralytic sinking feeling of powerlessness and inadequacy came back to me. This recollection did not consume me but rather, it reminded me of a very profound quote from the Doom Eagles:

All of creation suffers, young ones. Only in accepting our own mortality can we make a difference. Only in bearing the burden of our failures can we find the strength to go on. Only in detachment from glory, or honour, or jealousy... from life itself can we hope to spare others from grief. We are Doom Eagles. And we are dead already.
+++ Librarian Secundus Thryn of the Doom Eagles +++

A sense of relief came from being (more than) well prepared for dealing with this attack on my spirit. Like a fencer who was caught briefly unaware, I recovered my footing and gathered myself together.  My thoughts were such “Right now I am truly in my own element. This is my domain. I am home.” Things then took a turn for the better. This despondently invigorating realization served as a confirmation of being alive. You'd be surprised just what sort of things you would welcome just to upset the bland progression of day to day life.

Regardless of how welcoming we are of it, a toxin is still a toxin. So I dealt with it in the same manner I treat another mild toxin that I am fond of. I lied down and let it run its course. I guess you could say I was drunk on self loathing lol. When I awoke I began to briefly review the material that gave me a hard time and then took a break from it to blog to you all. A break which must end soon seeing how much time I devoted to writing about the experience rather than actually fixing it.

This Saturday I was driven to desperation by a similar sort of fit so I searched online for anything to get me out of this rut. A friend of mine who is a modern military enthusiast noticed my fascination with neuroscience and my recent preoccupation with the science of memory. Lately I have been touting working memory as the very backbone of cognition, so he shared a very illuminating article which prompted me to get this book. I recently abandoned a similar personal project so I could devote more time to studies and internet wanderlust. Seeing that article confirmed just how much more attention I must devote to strengthening the very thing that is most vital to my success. I must now abandon Lumosity and stick to more classical methods. It's only fitting for someone who has always been a fan of the classics.

The Allegory of Sisyphus

I returned from physics class feeling disappointed with myself for being unable to follow along. Even when a portion I was struggling with was personally explained to me I tensed up at my inability to grasp it. It should come to no surprise that shortly thereafter I was unable to recall what was necessary for me to proceed with the problems assigned to my group. I had no choice but to defer to the others in my group whose comprehension outstripped mine. The dreadfully sinking suspicion that there is something genuinely wrong with me was further reinforced by a nerve wracking experience with an intro to electrical engineering exam the day before. I could find consolation in that many of my peers struggled with it as well but I don't. Lately, my devoted studies have yielded a disproportionate output. I searched for anything I can use to help pull me out of this "Sisyphic" turmoil. I thought I just merely had to fortify my working memory using various aides like Lumosity. Lo and behold I found this. It would seem that my little Lumosity program really isn't helping. As if my hopes were not already sufficiently dashed.

Despite my knack for ornamenting my thoughts with verbal flourishes and being gifted (or burdened) with existential insight, I lag behind in the only skill that truly matters, logic; and by extension, working memory as well. I just wished I knew where the root of this cognitive disconnect lies so I can effectively work toward uprooting it. I lack the means to treat this with the aid of modern medical/behavioral science. So I am left with no other option but to find a way to work it out myself. I can only hope that I am just being too highly strung and inflating things.

"Well, it's just like it is with the stars, there are bright ones and there are those that are dim." -Hilda, Outlaw Star

I have wasted the most potentially fruitful portion of my life wallowing in self pity and agonizing over my failures. Now, the flow of time has pushed me to a precipice. The only option left is for me to push back and grimly advance. 

A little scribble that I am proud of

A flute that is so dreadfully bracing must come from a man whose breath is emboldened by a soul of such depth that it plumbs the terrifying breadth of the human spectrum. It takes a nerve of such heft to accompany such a powerful composition.

I was in one of my austere moods again. Then again, when aren't I? I just wanted to write a little something that is grave yet offset by my wry sense of humor. As is my wont lol.