In this moment, i’m just appreciating the little bit of life i’ve got left. And it really does feel like just a short while that i have left, mind you. Even if i live to ninety years old or more, i will stll feel like that was a quite short life.

Or maybe it’s that i’m conflating youth with life itself. Like once i’m no longer young, once you look at my face and see nothing but an old person, i’ll be…. dead? Or at least dead to the version of me who thinks right now. The version who is thinking at this moment in time is a version who will be dead by the time i turn, like, thirty, even. Let alone forty, fifty, sixty. If i even make it there, again, and it’s a big if.

But i feel like if there is an apocalypse, i’ll find a way to get out of there, hopefully, i think, right? Like i think i might be able to find a place to go.

What would a seafaring life be like? I think it would feel elike apermamnent liminal space. Like now, for example, just being out at sea and only seeing the occasional shadow and like aaaatmospheric perspective of an islannd and the moutnains and hills thereon, i feel as though in a liminal kind of space…. This is highly liminal, and it feels like i’m in the middle of the world, and the middle of the ocean, and the middle of life itself….

I do feel sort of strange and disocnnected form the daily realities here in shfc. Like i don’t quite feel like “myself” in any kind of like enduring ‘self’ way. I don’t think. But maybe it’s still in there somewhere. Maybe the writing, for example, sounds just exactly like it always does, and i’m full of shit, and i never really change that much…. But i do happen to think that i feel different, that it feels different, that this is different, that i’m in a dream somehow…..

The only real indication i have that i’m not dreaming at this era of my life is that i’m having actual dreams. I go to sleep and have dreams of telling [rdct] to stop smoking weed (or at least suggesting the idea to him carefully) and dreams of being on the street i grew up on… all kinds of dreams. It’s good to have dreams, you know? It’s great, even. It’s a luxury that i would often takeeeeee for granted. It was something i took for granted and actually turned up my nose at when i was in my stoner era…. I would smoke weed knowing that smoking would prevent me from having dreams.

But then a little while ago i thought about how it would feel to return home (which prompted a sort of homesickness kind of feeling). But maybe it’s all just….. I don’t know.

I do, though, have to further emphasize, once again, that i’m feeling out of sorts, and i have to, once again, assure you that it’s not at all a bad feeling. If anything, it feels good, and it feels new, and it feels refreshing. I’m someone who has a penchant for dissociation, so i suppose we shouldn’t be surprised that i’m not exactly bothered by the whole ‘not feeling “myself”’ thing. Like, it’s not bothersome to me in the slightest. There’s no part of me that’s bothered by it, i think probably because of how confident i feel about the truth of samsara. Like, if i were to die out there then that would just be what it would be. The first and somewhat only thing i think of is my mom and to a lesser extent my dad’s reaction to my passing away out in a foreign land, and passing away in general. So maybe i need to still be thinking about how to, like, ease the burden on them if i ever die before the two of them. Let’s hope that i don’t, and that when i die nobody has to be all that bothered, but you really never know when it comes to these things, and the last thing i would want for my parents is for them to be totally just, like, life-ruined if i were to die. But then again, i’m alive right now, and i already feel like my mom has phoned it in with her life. She doesn’t have much of an interest in doing anything else, seemingly, does she? So i guess my death could be an opportunity to, like, do something with her damn life which right now she’s just wasting. And yes, if you were to print this out and hand it to her, i would have no qualms with her seeing this. I woud have no qualms with her knowing that i thought while on this seafaring adventure that she was wasting the rest of her life….. I would be happy to tell that to her from across the veil.

Of course we don’t manifest these things. I’m still young enough to die young right now. So we don’t manifest dying young anymore. Maybe there was a time in my life when i did want to die young, but it feels like just a little blip in the whole life course that i’ve had.

I wonder if i have any thoughts on traveling as a concept right now. I certainly don’t think it’s necessary or appropriate or becoming to post about it on instagram and all those other sites. I think it’s already sort of unbecoming to send pictures to your loved ones of your travels, and unbecoming indeed to take photos in the first place, given the theory of observation as collapse as violence. I don’t like the whole extractive nature of it all…………. I don’t like it. But then i also do feel like travel is an opportunity to experience different parts of yourself that have lain dormant or are born in the moment that you travel… the rocking of the boat wildly in all directions seems to agree with me….

You know whow when you have a thought and the world responds in a certain way such that it seems like the world is agreeing with you? That’s how i feel now… like parts of you are born when you go to places in the world. So maybe i’ll be one of those stupid motherfuckers who makes it their goal to see every country or some dumb shit like that. But the way i’m describing it makes me think i won’t. Lol. like who would ever talk so much shit about colonization and all the stereotypes of peope who travel and make it their whole personality, and then become the very person that they’re denigrating?

I just heard the sound of someone vomiting, seemingly. And there is an attendant passing out vomit bags. He has a whole big stack of them. But i’m not someone who gets seasick, i don’t think. At least i haven’t yet. There’s not really much movement in my insides to suggest otherwise….

It’s good to exist in a superorganism with others. It provides a sense of psychological safety that you just can’t get by yourself. Though there are aspects of psychological safety that you can only get by yourself……. so there are contradiciotns everywhere, as you must know by now.

What else do i even have to say? I’ll be honest, a thought did cross my mind as i was talking about the barf bags getting handed out that i think it’s weak fucks, weak overstimulated robotic automatonic fucks hypnotized by tiktok and worldly pleasures who would have something like seasickness. So why not speak my own language and get out of the automatoniccccccccc flow that i’ve found myself in here. Take off the technology that i’m using to bind me to whatever this flow is.

We’re done here. Enjoy the event boundary and allow it to spur you to some other kind of action, or inaction. See you in the next one.