i read something yesterday which was talking about how we have an in-build ability to recognise incredibly complex patterns - about how we can instantly recognise hundreds of people even if we haven't seen them for a long time, and this is quite amazing really when you consider that the human face pretty much more or less the same sort of shape and size etc for everyone, but we are still able to, in a split second, recognise a person as well as instinctively knowing how to act around them, are we friends, are we old lovers, are we hostile or friendly to this person, are we best friends or that kinda sketchy awkward social convention of not total strangers but not really friends either.

it went on to talk about how we can also recognise a series of squiggles on a page as letters, which form words, which in turn describe and explain abstract ideas, and just through this ability to recognise patterns we can communicate with other people. this pattern recognition also works against us though, we see a man's face in the moon, or clouds shaped like animals, of course these things dont exist, but we interpret subtle marks and shapes and form them into patterns which we recognise.

indeed, can we actually ever truly describe anything? i mean, if i write 'teh cat sat on the wall' even this simple sentence is inherintly inaccurate. firstly, i have to witness the event, i have to perceive what is happening, and then react to this perception and create a meaning to it, and assign it a value so i am able to understand it. i have to interpret my perception of what happened, but this is the start of the 'chinese whispers' process. how am i to know whether my perception is actually accurate to what happened? i have to portray this interpretation and perception through the appropriate words, and this is the second stage of inaccuracy, because there are only a finite number of words. one word can be used in a number of situations to describe many things, and so we have to use the same old words which have the general meaning, but could not, and can never, truly describe the 'thing' accurately. to be truly accurate, we must all invent a brand new word for every single thing we ever wanted to describe, and even then these words would only be accurate to ourselves, which in itself is only ever slightly accurate in the first place.

then you have to process the words which i have written, and add your own meanings and interpretatins to them, and thats the third stage of inaccuracy. so, really, there is never any way of truly conveying something to another person, because of the limitations of language, and the limitations of our ability to seperate the 'truth' of an event from our 'percieved truth' of the same event.

it made me wonder whether this was in fact an ability, or whether forming patterns out of everything was in fact a basic need. it made me think that in a world that is worthless, meaningless and pointless, perhaps we are all looking for a way to make sense of life, and by forming patterns, even when there are no patterns there, we can somehow give meaning to something, and thus accept it as existing.

is this why i was so eager to get back what i had lost? perhaps i was just looking for something to give me a meaning, to validate me, if you like. but i have existed for as long as i have existed, and therefore i must validate myself, simply by being. on the other side i could argue that none of us are valid, and seeking validation is fruitless because there is no such thing. either human life is validated the moment it is created, or else we can never gain validation. there is no state of being 'less valid' than before, because nothing changes. it doesnt make you a different person, it doesnt change you. it has no intrinsic value. ("it's just a figure of speech")

we seem to be conditioned with the idea that meaninglessness and emptiness are bad things. but why? why is something bad because it is pointless? if life is an empty room everyone seems so preoccupied with trying to fill that room, with possessions, with friendships, with relationships, with acheivements. clutching at straws because we are so scared of nothingness. we need these things to give us a purpose, we can make sense of things. we can't make sense of nothing.

im not sure about the idea of being in constant despair. as soon as i accept something into my life then i am opening myself up to despair, because it can be taken away? and so, even when im not despairing, im in despair? im not sure about that. im really not. if i was in a pessimistic mood then maybe, but it just seems to suggest that everything is meaningless. but maybe thats what im struggling to get to grips with. what is the meaning. of anything?

"What is this plague, this germ which, like the tubercle bacillus,
lurks within, waiting for the victim's strength to sink
below a certain level so that it may strike?
It is not a new organism. It ravages were predicted
by certain seers of the nineteenth century.
Melville and Hawthorne, Nietzsche and Marx,
Dostoievsky and Kafka all saw it coming in one form or another.
Its actual appearances have been described in some detail
by contemporary poets and painters, playwrights and novelists.
There were and are a few theologians at work on the bacterium,
but for the most part of examination and analysis
are taking place in the secular laboratories.
The germ has a very simple name: meaninglessness.
And the conditions under which it strikes are well known:
when one raises or is confronted by the ultimate questions
about live, about the purpose and meaning of existence,
and discovers that there are no answers;
no answers, that is, that can be believed.
Life seems pointless and empty,
rather cruel and even a little mad."

i went outside today. saw the first person ive seen for a month. almost to the day. one month. one whole month. i spent the rest of the day drinking and playing modest mouse on repeat just because they seem to know what they are talking about, and ihm. i finally got my book yesterday too, started reading it last night and i only had to wait 21 pages before ihm were mentioned when he was giving the girl a lift home. (the girl he was told not to rape - although i dont think he would be capable or raping anyone) although no one listens to ihm. but her sister does.

i always imagined that he was sitting on the floor of an empty space, in an empty building. sitting on the floor with his back against a plain white wall, each hald holding a knee and his head is between his knees looking down at the floor which is collecting a pool of spent tears. its night time and the window is still open.

but what if she did it during the day. what if it wasnt an empty building, what if it was their apartment, the place they called home. and what if it was day time. maybe they'd just had an argument, or maybe she'd been planning it a long time. maybe he was asleep, or maybe they'd just had sex.

sometimes i feel like im on that 14th floor too.

i dream about being chased or hunted quite a lot. i had a dilemma not long since, it was night and i was being chased by a group who wanted to kill me. i was running home. they were pretty close behind me, and i dropped my key. time stopped and i had to make a decision. either i carry on running and leave my key, but then i have no way of escaping to safety, plus the group will pick up the key and know where i live. but if i turn and go back to pick up the key then the group will surely catch me. i didnt know what to do, and spent a long time trying to weigh up the pros and cons of each scenario. well actually just the cons, there were no pros, either i was going to be chased forever with no hope of getting to a safe place, or i was going to get a good kicking. neither one of those things seems like a good choice. i think i went back to get the key. the group caught me. after a while i guess i was too hurt to feel anything any more. it felt like i was melting into the path as i closed my eyes.

the other night i dreamt about spiders - which is strange because i am shit scared of them. i dont even like writing the word so im going to shorted it to 'sp'. ive always been scared of them for as long as i can remember. all but the very smallest bring me out in goose bumps and make me feel sick to my stomach, so it wasn't exactly a fun dream. first of all i had to build a sp, not like a mechanical one, but a real living one. it was hung in a large garage, and id slowly assemble the parts. then i walk through the door and its sitting on a sofa watching tv. this huge sp, which towered above me.

in last nights dream we were sitting on some swings in a bar. we were just talking, i was joking around and you were laughing lots. you said i was funny. i said i knew. you asked why i was making you laugh. i said i wanted you to be happy. you asked why i was still bothered, why i still cared. i avoided answering by saying that i wanted everyone to be happy. my friend who i havent seen for months came into the place, he told me he was going downstairs to hit up the bar. it sounded like a good idea. i let him go off on his own, and we stayed there sitting on the swings.

woah, has it really been so long since i wrote something? eeek thats pretty crazy. well actually, no it isnt, because ive got 2 draft posts saved which im not sure need to be posted really, so its not like i was awol really.

discovered a few new writers who im considering investing in, one almost definitely because their book apparently quotes some ihm lyrics, and i love ihm - i mean they have songs about roy sullivan for fucks sake, you cant get more awesome.

and the other writes stories about a vampire who pays a couple hookers to stop having sex with a strap on and shut the fuck up so he can talk. not quite as awesome as songs about roy sullivan, but pretty near.

so i was meant to be going to manchester round about now, but its been postponed till next month. also considering apply for jobs - its gotta be done im afraid i cant live the dream forever - considering london, scotland, and scandinavia.

might be heading cross country in a couple of weeks again, not sure really, not heard the plans, but as long as i can afford it i think ill prolly go...'i think'...yeah like theres any doubt in my mind. chester then 'pool, should be mad crazy :)