Entry # 93: Jan 8 resp. 11 - (Net) Birthday
Some things get better with age. Some, however, deteriorate. Some things stay the same. Well, actually, nothing really stays the same on the concrete level, on the abstract maybe, but on the concrete, rarely. Or at least it better shouldn't. What stays the same, doesn't change, doesn't act, react, adapt, resist, whatever, cannot be said to be truly alive.
Standstill is stagnation is death; growth is the paradigm to follow. This is not a capitalist primer, it's rather one central truth about the nature of things, about nature itself in fact: Progress is the drive of evolution. This is not a Marxist primer either.
Progress, however, comes two-fold: Physically and spiritually. A person can stay the same outside and change within, or vice versa. But with time progressing, you better grow up spiritually, prepare for the things to come. This journey is about action, not about sitting in a corner crying your guts out and putting an end to your misery - it's about doing something, about standing up and saying, this is who I am, deal with it. It is also about respecting the rights of others to do so, and it is about doing both things together, everybody. If followed by everybody, all the pain and suffering will be gone. No more distancing from yourself or from others. No more coldness. No more pain.
Yes, I am naïve saying that. I'm a stupid little idealist saying that. What about it. Deal with it. That's the only way I'm gonna survive - the only way this life makes sense. Distance yourself from the distancing. Get involved where you deem it necessary. Shut up when you realize you're wasting your time. It's your life, and your responsibility to make it through the best you can. And what was valid for Shakespeare is valid still and will be for ever: "Thine own self be true."
This web site, to address the first occasion of this diary entry, enters its fifth year now. It has undergone major changes in the past, has been about experimenting and discovering. Now, it is about refining and adding new stuff: 1998 was the year of its creation as a site about television and essays, 1999 the year of changing it into philjohn.com and adding my poetry, the year 2000 brought my poetry to what I still consider its Climax, 2001 was all about finding myself as a photographer. All that happened additively: No new element eliminated an old one, with the exception of some old texts being opened up and expanded, but the basis stayed the same and will do so in the future. Everything grows atop of the other, the new and the old coexist and further themselves, they depend upon each other. Content is always something originating from negotiations and re-negotiations. This site is both constructed, reconstructed and deconstructed all the time.
I, to address the second occasion, am entering my 26th year, thereby coming closer to 30 than to 20. I still don't know whether that's a good thing, but I guess that, not being in the possession of a time machine or an anti-aging agent, there's no choice for me but to accept and embrace it and just go on. What's puzzling though is that, unlike foolishly expected when I was younger, it is not the certainties that grow but the uncertainties. The more you see the less you know, the more experience you get the less experienced you are, the more versed in language you get the more you lose it.
And still, I should know that, because there is still a little physicist in me which I disallowed once from pursuing his interests: This is entropy. You cannot stop entropy. Everything, in the end, moves towards disorder. You only end up fighting windmills, no matter what you do. Either realize that, or live in a dreamworld. Look for truth elsewhere, look for meaning elsewhere. Or you possibly already have it, inside of you: What's without is within; what's within is without.
What are my plans for 2002? To continue the previous threads, obviously, and polish some hidden orders of chaos and doom lurking in half-cooked thoughts and spelling mistakes made throughout the years (my god, I'm insane managing that large a web site... years! it's years! all work and no play... I bet I'm just fighting horror vacui here...). Also, this site's got a parent and a sister site, pjkx.com and philjohn.de (now defunct, 2015). New playgrounds. What else? Some more writing, maybe painting. And yes, how about a relationship. But I guess, that cannot be planned on the drawing board. So I'll stick with transforming all that loneliness and desperation and sexual frustration and fear of mortality into this web site and what surrounds and encompasses it. What elese is there to do? Better build your own prison than be encaged by somebody or something else. And yes, keep the key. You might need it someday...
January 8th/11th/18th, 2002