Custom, Repetition, and the like – XX4214 Part 4

26/10/22

I could get used to this, honestly.

The efficiency.

The fish in the sea are not aplenty.

But perhaps I may sacrifice myself and increase the count of fishes by 1.

If only there weren’t so many couples at McDonalds.

That I may eat my McFlurry alone in peace.

Custom of Habit.

I need to learn not to watch YouTube on my phone while eating. I mean, maybe it’s not so bad. After all, I do that when I’m at home too.

So, well, quit being a fucking baby.

 

26/10/22 – an ungodly hour (12:34 am)

Regaining my personhood. The act of becoming. Sartre’s radical freedom. Kierkegaard’s repetition. My self-positing individual comes to know itself as itself, but not just a small individual but the absolute. And maybe the real but then I gotta get some LSD and I’m not the most resourceful of people. So.

When I first chose to do XXXX again, I had thought of doing it for a while. But not like “making plans” or “deciding”. I am not that kind of person. More like “imagining the possibilities”.

I’m asleep. Not like a dogmatic slumber kind of way. But like a “we are asleep until we love” kind of way. But even then, not really. But I just wanted to say that I am asleep. That had nothing to do with anything. Maybe a segue, but in purple.

So, I contemplated shooting him a message in Teams. But then that is a hella personal commitment and that’d make it almost impossible to back out. I wanted to ask: is it still ongoing? In case I had missed the train. I vacillated. And procrastinated. And then I didn’t have to do it, because he reached out first, instead. A google form that was really easy to fill out. So, I filled it out.

“I could always back out”, i thought.

And then we inched closer and closer to the start. And there was no news, and I thought it ain’t gonna happen. I bid for a whole ass bunch of modules and filled my schedule to the brim. I considered firing him an email. I wanted to ask: am I in? Or maybe: I want out; my schedule is too packed. Also, because I had procrastinated to the point where I did some procedures late and was thus uncertain as to whether they had been completed properly. But then the news came in, I was in.

“Still, i could always back out.” After all, there’s a clause in the contract that details the procedure for breaking it.

So, I signed the contract. And then classes started. And it was painful, and my chest hurt from all the anxiety and my brain burned from the fevers of overthinking and insomnia. I considered tele-ing him a tele. I was on the fence, on the cliff, ready to take a giant leap into the unknown but also ready to become criminal. But it’d be really bad to back out because it will be messing with their continuity. So, i held my peace.

“Yet, I still have the choice to back out at any time.” I could attempt unalive. End up in the ER after an overdose and THEN I could send him a telegram. It would be a totally legit method to back out of anything. A final yeet attempt.

At every point I always had the choice to turn back. Like a cursed, ironic Orpheus. Or maybe just a normal Orpheus. Turning back gets me what I want, the release, but I will lose everything forever, my Eurydice.

But still I had the choice and reflecting on this choice that i have is my essence, is my freedom, it is the act of being. And yet it is completely…ironic? Completely unfree. The possibility of making a choice is constant, and I will always have an infinite number of choices, and yet with each passing moment more options are ruled out. Regret for the choices not made at the past moment. Larger infinities and larger infinities of lost choices. And yet possible choices remain infinite.

In every commitment a person makes, they are always free to retreat. What does this mean?

I was not placed here on this Earth with my permission, but at any moment I am free to leave.

Marry or don’t marry, you will regret it either way. But you are always free to leave. Yall celebrated V-Day together? You are free to leave. Yall held hands? You are free to leave. Yall kissed? You are free to leave. Yall have introduced each other to your parents? You are free to leave. Yall been together for a year? You are free to leave. Yall BTO’ed? You are free to leave. Yall proposed to each other? You are free to leave. Yall engaged? You are free to leave. Yall ROM’ed? You are free to leave. Yall had the ceremonial? You are free to leave. Yall collected yalls keys? You are free to leave. Yall moved in to your BTO? You are free to leave. Yall fucked? You are free to leave. Yall got pregnant? You are free to leave. Yall have kids? You are free to leave. You can follow all the right steps, and not be some kind of shotgun wedding degenerates, and yet you don’t have to follow through all the way. You are never forced to remain. Unless you are in the Middle East or something. Divorce is a thing, people. It is there to be used. It won’t exist if it is of no use to no one.

And yet because you are always free to leave. Each moment that you remain together affirms your choice to be together. It is a reaffirmation of your choice. Like a messed up Hobbesian / Lockean social contract thing. By choosing to stay you are making a conscious choice to remain bound by the contract. You are choosing to remain in love. The possibility of breaking up makes being in a relationship even conceptually possible. The possibility to not love makes it possible to love.