Arcanum -> Spycraft
Trauma/199x/Always Sometimes Monsters/Yet One Word/Reperfection
– getting in touch with your emotions
– piecing together the fragments of a mind
Always Sometimes Monsters
– childhood, horror, terror, fear, abandonment, trust
– Who would your hurt to change?
Yet One Word
– the cost of transformation
– genuine, authentic, apology
– the past can’t be changed
– What is the cost of change?
– learning to let go
Is there only one center to the map? I see only an interconnected morass of overlapping lines. Do these lines mean anything? They are said to mean connection, but do they connect? Where are the other pathways? I am only remembering so much, the rest I forgot. Is it necessary to remember? Why these things and not the other? I can remember the names but no longer the connections. All these names fade to dust. I am forced to consider myself, and the role I play in my unmaking. This self is not the self of a second ago. It exists briefly, and is lost as soon as it is noticed. I grapple with this nothingness. It is an inescapable hole. Perhaps this void is me. I have to accept that as a possibility. Perhaps, I am nothing. I have to be okay with that.
There are words written on this page, but they are all meaningless. They express nothing. They only address the surface. They talk around the issue. Like Levinas, I struggle to express in terms other than ontological. Is not that what language does? Ground us. Constitute us, but still the irony, the contradiction which is that it is never enough/sufficient. But is that not the perfect expression of our being – incompleteness? I am dissatisfied with this polemic. I must return to the beginning (or one of them).
I am drawn to Trauma. It is how I understand my memory. It is all composed of unconstituted fragments. None of them real. I can’t see beyond them. The lie of Trauma is cohesion. It never comes together so clearly in reality. There is always a gap. I want/desire to know that gap. It is denied to me. I dwell and turn to nihilism. We can never know the gap, but that does not make me desire it any less. It makes me want it more. I am rebuffed once more, yet I shall return again, to be once more rebuffed. That is my current cycle.