After a morning's effort, I have about half of the Marx papers graded. The rest will, by necessity, be finished tonight. Tomorrow I begin my treatment of Marx's economic theory, starting with the Grundrisse and "Wage Labor and Capital." The latter is a beautifully written and poignant exposition of the objective mode of the labor process and the capitalist infrastructure--a kind of "introduction" to Capital, if you will (read it if you haven't).

Yesterday around 4 PM I finished removing the remainder of items from the old apartment and cleaning to the negotiated standard. N. was uber-helpful in allowing me to meet my appointed deadline with time to spare; I imagine I would have been there until well after nightfall if it had not been for her.

This morning the keys were returned, and aside form a few minor loose-ends, I'm done with that god-forsaken reminder of my past. I have little now but to look forward to my future.

And thus begins another triumphant stage in my life-history. From my new corner of the Universe, life seems to take on new meaning. Last night I sat on my porch, wine embellished by my Marlboro gracing my palate. Amidst watching butterflies fluttering through the verdant branches of live oaks and a pair of squirrels playing amongst the undergrowth, I felt refreshed, revitialized. My departure from that place will no doubt do great things for my own personal happiness, not to mention my intellectual and economic well-being. This place will be truly exceptional--that is, when I have finished unpacking this sea of boxes.

I tried to quit smoking Friday last week; I got the patch and everything. I ended up breaking down Sunday night. I'm still committted to quitting this summer, but perhaps this is just not the time.

I've got a lot of stress right now (he said, rationalizing). My first batch of Marx papers rolls in on Tuesday. That should make for a complicated week.

Also: I'm moving. Not soon, but right now. The landlord gave me the key last week, and I've been taking over a carload at a time beginning with the bulk of the books I am not currently using. My place already looks like a shell of what it was. I'm getting a truck this weekend to get the big things and I should be living elsewhere a week from today. Then I've got to clean and paint and fix all the shit that my ex and our former roomate broke, colored, or otherwise embellished. Remind me never to live with anyone else. Ever.

The place I'm moving into is smaller than the place in which I am currently. That means I need to make some decisions on what goes will go with me, and what goes in the trash. I've acquired quite a lot of stuff in the misguided process of 'nesting' I've been undergoing over the past three years. Time to clear it all out, and get back to the basics. Biologically speaking, new environment means a new organism. Soon I will be reborn with a new strength and a new purpose. And without the bourgeois trappings that were never my own.

I was having some second thoughts on how stongly worded certain things were in the last post, until a recent email from N. I was then reminded how little people actually think of me, and it confirms exactly what I feared: there's nothing personally salvagebale in me (according to her I'm "rude and selfish") and so the only thing worthy about me is what I do: my work. Once again, I began to judge myself based on other people's eyes. And again, I feel like shit.

I re-read each word written a few days ago with renewed meaning. She has made my decision backed by renewed force: I will be severing all but a few social contacts for a while. It may be the only way that I can begin to feel good about myself again, because apparently people like me better when I'm not around.

I was going to go to the library today, but then the rain started. Drenching, saturating rains that melted my very negotiable tenacity. Perhaps tomorrow--

I'm going to spend the rest of the evening reading poetry (either Eliot or Whitman, not sure which yet) and most likely some Wittgenstein. I also will continue on in the Berlin biography of Marx in preparation for my first Marx lecture on Thursday. I have errands to run tomorrow, and then it's the clean, cinderblock walls of the second floor (periodicals and journals floor).

I will be celebrating my Independence on Tuesday. Actually, for the entire month of July. The only way to be free is to live freely, and so I must not only celebrate this independence--this lack of a qualitative hold on myself by others--but also must take strides to truly free myself from their gaze, by removing myself from it. I must become 'not' for some time. I must learn how I must live by paying attention to the process of living, of growing, of evolving, of changing. And one can only grow by removing the comfortable, stabilizing, enabling hold of one's context within the gaze of others.

I made last night what might be (for a little while) my last public appearance. I had a blast, it was great hanging with friends and comrades, but the time has come. I can no longer wait for tomorrow, I must worry about today. Likewise I cannot worry about others, I must worry about me.

I have been noticing recently that I have been waiting for tomorrows that never come. I have been striving for a life of which I am neither worthy of nor capable. I realize, and now admit, that have been very depressed for well over a year. I have been seeking shelter in the arms of others, striving for a sense of completeness which has not come. For all my ambition, a comfortable sloth has entered into my world saturated with the drippings of a bourgeois life that might have been but never could--a life that still currently reeks of the misdeeds of the past. I have been denying myself to myself. I have been self-medicating, I have been escaping, I have been denying. I have blamed others for things which I can only blame on myself. I have been stagnating, refusing to allow myself to grow or to change.

I have always feared change. But no longer.

My immanent move to a new part of town, a new place not haunted by the ghosts of Christmas past, will be very freeing psychologically (I am reminded of that Northern Exposure episode where Ed house sits for Maurice). One's mind, I have always thought, should a microcosm of the natural tendency of one's workspace; I have had it all backwards! A new, fresh workspace must and will be created by destroying the troubles inherent in a concern for the everydayness. I will be attempting to spend the rest of the summer in a stoic, spartan and solitary place. No drama will come from no people, for ex nihilo nihil fit.

I will be undergoing dramatic changes over the next month. I hope my efforts will emerge as I am reborn this Fall as a serious, dedicated mind finely-tuned to one goal: finishing my work. A new topic, a new focus, a new way to present myself on my CV. The only confirmation of my ability is not in the potential realm of what might be or what might have been, but in the world of what is. I will be because I must. I do not have the luxury of failure.

I will be limiting my posts here on this site until August. When I do post, I will be trying to stick to a confessional, open conversation about myself and not to continue writing about the things that piss me off in the world, or contining this chronicle of my struggle with my own ineptitude and laziness. Likewise, I will also be limiting the amount I answer my phone and/or generally concern myself with the affairs of others. Don't take any of this the wrong way. Everyone knows that I've always gone over and beyond to help others, and I will continue to do so after this has passed. But I need this time to allow myself to re-emerge from within myself, and there is no other way I can.

If I'm losing my mind, let me know. And if I do not re-emerge, come find me.