Math Student - Tumblr Posts

I happen to still be alive, apparently. The past week has been a little challenging, I managed to once again contract some virus which caused me to go through quite a tumultous fever. Currently I am mostly recovered, though I have a lingering cough that seems quite fitting for the current weather.

The first month of second year is finished. I feel tired, from the illness, but energized. I think for the first time I am truly considering the fact that what were once my future plans, is my current daily reality. I am working on shifting my priorities around, being more intentional with how I spend my time and ripping away any distractions. That is not to say I spend every living moment working, I do not dream of work.

I have taken to only digesting news from newspapers and I feel a lot lighter. I don't take pride in my limited knowledge of current events, but I know that it is the healthier approach for me to digest all my news in a set format that cannot be added to or changed. On top of that I feel as though the scope of news I receive is much broader now. Honestly, I would recommend everyone buy a newspaper once in a while. If not to support journalism, then just to have a little slow ritual for yourself. Which reminds me, this is a post on a social media site, not a column.

I haven't really been online, at all. I have found an undocumented life to be absolutely delightful. I've always been very resistant to the notion of capturing my life, specifically photographs of myself. Though I understand their value I find something inherently off about them, I cannot enjoy them.

I find there to be deep comfort in the idea that eventually my existence will wither away with time. My life is valuable to me, my loved ones and the people I interact with but I don't delude myself to consider it of general importance.

In the end all of this boils down to feeling a certain way. I feel comfortable with a lack of intended documentation in my life, I feel calm when I realize both past, present and future will eventually be dust. And above all I feel at peace, being away from any kind of social media.

I wish you all a very happy new year. May it be satisfactory. A year doesn't have to be good, doesn't have to be great, the best is a challenging yet satiating year. Once in which you can grow and hopefully thrive.

The past few months have been shaky, at best. A wide array of private events have occurred, some good, most bad. Nonetheless I've changed, time has passed and it will continue to do so. All we can is challenge it, rival it.

I don't quite believe in resolutions, setting concrete goals with no regard for the circumstances of our lives is silly at best, destructive at worst. I work with general principles, things I'd like to achieve tied together in a summarizing word. Next year, the goal is less. There are many facets to this, but there is one which towers above all. Less internet.

I am no luddite, I appreciate and recognize the value of the internet and technology, specifically in the field of modern medicine. Nonetheless, my personal usage of the internet is unhealthy and arguably life ruining. I can go on for hours about the way our usage of internet has shaped our existence and continuously warps existence around us. Alas, that isn't necessary.

We all change, we are seldom the driving force in the changes that occur, nonetheless it is worth the effort to try.

Don't let the captured reality be confused with reality itself. Striving for the picturesque is a flaw, albeit one that is attractive and we all fall prey to on occassion.

There is nothing wrong with beautiful, there is something boring about beautiful.

Exam season has finally ended, I have been worn out to the bone frankly. I have a small week of rest before the next semester begins. This year has been interesting so far, private tragedy has struck and revealed that I am a fundamentally different person compared to who I used to be.

Change is curious when observed in such a way. I cannot say I intentionally changed towards who I am now, a part of it has been done with a guiding hand but much of it has been part of growing older, allowing myself to merely be and see what happens. Sometimes I don't recognize myself and that can be scary, I attempt to force myself back into the mould of who I thought I once was in the hope of finding something I can recognize. But I have been better at preventing such actions, to allow myself to be present in the unknown.

I can't quite shake the thought we are all addicts and slaves to the internet but refuse to say so because it's been normalised through culture and the rapid digitization of the world.

The internet is a great thing but that doesn't leave me feeling any less perturbed at the fact we are constantly stimulated with dopamine. That privacy is a thing of the past with how our data is handled and the vulnerabilities of governments that are digitizing that which they don't understand. That is not to say that the analogue world was invulnerable, far from it.

Regardless, the world from a decade ago is nigh unrecognizable, in many ways for the better but in some ways for worse.

I am not who you think I am. All the world's a stage, as they say. The world has been moving around me at a rapid pace and I feel as if I'm still. The world rotating around my axis, constantly moving around me, without me.

I am aware that such a thing isn't exactly true. I have been changing and moving, but there has been an inherent clash between the person I have been moving towards and the display I have always reflected. I think that is inherent to life, we all play roles whether we are aware of it or not. I have been aware of the varying roles, I have moulded myself to fit them. To some degree they are a reflection of that which comes natural to me, in many other ways they are merely an aesthetic aspiration, void of any meaning but the visuals which they portray.

I don't know what will come of this journey, whether I continue moving or find myself clinging to that which once was. There is really only one way to find out.

I've been trying to cook more. When I first moved out I spent most of my time cooking for myself, but as the pace of life increased I've resorted more and more to processed food. I'm attempting to move away from that for a variety of reasons, but one stands above all to me.

I want to spend more time cooking because I want to spend more time taking care of myself because that is valuable and important to do. Productivity is seen as limited to the studying or work we do, but in that framework the bare necessities of our existence are easily lost. Spending time on yourself is productive and worth every single minute.

I think I might slowly migrate, in part, from tumblr to a blog of sorts. This tumblr blog has always been a strange mix of a diary of the current trajectory of my life, which has been changing rapidly as of late, a motivational boost to study and a place to share some musings.

I enjoy what this blog is to me and what it hopefully can be to others but I have an increasing repulsion towards aesthetics and engaging with them in any way feels wrong. I want to share more and yet I want to share less.

"Through him, and Rach, I study this cultural capital. I learn what I'm meant to do. How I'm meant to live. What I'm supposed to enjoy. I watch, I emulate. It takes practice. And an understanding of what's out of reach. What I can't pull off. Born here, parents born here, always lived here - still never from here. Their culture becomes parody on my body."

Assembly, Natasha Brown

It's been a while. I'm not exactly well, but I can't claim to be sick either. I have slowly been discarding the internet and though the fog appears to be parting, the ground underneath my feet feels is more unstable than it was before. There is much I have seen, there is even more to come and somewhere, in between, I exist.

Summer TBR

Given I wanted to spend the majority of my summer reading, in an attempt to recover from the tumultous spring semester and I wanted to be a bit more active on here I thought I'd keep track of my list on this post.

La Chute, Albert Camus

The Dispossessed, Urusla K. Le Guin

Finished 2 July. I really enjoyed this, it was quite an easy read but I mean that in the best way possible. It passed around a lot of interesting ideas in a way that is easily graspable and I liked the switch of perspectives between the planets/past and present.

Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov

Finished 7 July. I have had this on my shelf since 2018, and finally finished reading it. Subject matter aside, it was a surprisingly easy read as the language was surprisingly simple to comprehend and the pace, at times, rather high. It was revolting in the exact way I had anticipated and the book definitely lives up to its status as a classic.

Kafka on the Shore, Haruki Murakami

Finished 5 July. I'm not the biggest fan of Murakami, but I enjoyed the mystery aspect of this book and the story unravelling slowly before my eyes.

The Gebroeders Kramazov, Fyodor Dostoevsky

Leadership, Henry Kissinger

Transgender Marxism, Gleeson & O'Rourke

De metamorfose van de wereld, Jurgen Österhammel

De Consultancy Industrie, Mazzucato & Collington

Finished 4 July. One of the most frustrating books I've read all year in the best way possible, that is, by exposing one of the fundamental structures that keeps out current world running in a clear and comprehensive way.

Additional books I've read

The Secret History, Donna Tartt

I reread this book about every year during the summer as it perfectly encapsulates my melancholy. Surprisingly, I found it particularly insightful this time around. Perhaps because I'm a little older, perhaps a bit more experienced, but I felt that for the first time I was able to fully see both stories unfolding (The great tragedy and the satire) and it made the book all the greater to read again

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Reading, reading, reading. I don't quite know what to say in these captions anymore, I'm out of practice it seems. I'm approaching summer with a singular goal, reading. It's been a very tumultuous year for me so far because of a wide range of happenings, whilst I usually find the quiet of summer disconcerting I welcome its melancholy and temporality now. I'm primarily reading non-fiction, completing philosophical works of which I only managed to read a snippet for class. Usually I'd be thinking of the future, the many things to come. I can't live in ignorance of what is to happen, but for now I can live in the present.

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Currently about halfway through 'The Brothers Karamazov', I'm enjoying it immensely. It's been a while since I've read something that provokes an equal amount of thoughts within me as it does laughter. The humor might be morbid to some but I rather enjoy it. I can't wait to see how it turns out, and then it's onwards to Tolstoy.

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I've finished most of my summer TBR, I'm currently a tenth through 'Transformation of the World' and it is a delight to read. Surprisingly, the more I read the less I want to read. I very much enjoy reading, but I feel more inclined now to be more mindful of what I read. I've long stopped caring about how much I read, I don't want to quantify every aspect of my life especially not the things that are nigh impossible to quantify. Now, I'm finally thinking more about what I read as well, and why I read what I read. I'm also writing again, a story I ought to have finished a long time ago. I've revisited this idea for the third time, and while I wish I had finished it those times before I do believe that every time I start again with the idea I add another layer to it and improve it.

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I oscillate between satisfaction and dissatisfaction with life at a rapid pace. It is not that I am unhappy, nor that I am particularlly happy, it is moreso an evaluation. At times I am satisfied with all that I've done in spite of the many things that have stood in my way, other times I remain dissatisfied with whatever achievements I've accumulated. I don't think there's a particular solution to the oscillation problem, perhaps I wouldn't want one. I think it's very easy for us all to get caught up in waves of satisfaction (with who we are, what we do, what we've done) and dissatisfaction (what we haven't done yet, what we ought to do, what we could've done) which is undoubtedly amplified by instantaneous communication and the development of the internet. In the end we should just ride the waves, enjoy satisfaction when it comes and when dissatisfaction looms remind ourselves that whatever lies ahead, or parallel, doesn't diminsh what is already done.

I've been re-reading some of my favourite books - in particular Assembly by Natasha Brown and Open Water by Caleb Azumah Nelson.

Both are about very similar topics, explored in different ways. One is poignant, clear and straightforward, the other melodic and lyrical. They both tell a different story, they both tell the same story. What it's like to be looked at, but not be seen.

I know that feeling all too well. How people look at you but don't see you, and if they do, what they see is different from what you are. How you lose the ability to see yourself and instead can only look at yourself, at a self that isn't really yours anymore. And when you can't see yourself anymore, how can you be yourself?

But both are also about love, love for family, love for friends, others, strangers and yourself. Love may not be the way out, but it's the way forward. It's an attempt at healing, it's a requirement for survival.

You would soon learn that love made you worry, but it also made you beautiful. Love made you Black, as in, you were most coloured when in her presence. It was not a case for concern; one must rejoice! You could be yourselves. (Open Water)

I wrote a little something. I've been finding myself increasingly dissatisfied with any platform, especially the visual nature of most. These are some musings based on some recent experiences, predominantly re-reading Open Water and how, when I read it the first time, the book made me re-evaluate much of the experiences in my life and the relationship I had established between myself, my body and the world.

I might move to a blog permanently. Though I enjoy the hybrid space of tumblr, I don't feel much for visual aesthetics anymore and find the formatting of predominantly written posts on tumblr to be cumbersome. We'll see.

So I read 200 pages a day for a week (link is to a textpost) and the most insightful thing I gained from it, outside of the knowledge resulting from the books themselves obviously, is that I'm going to be stopping all tracking of the books i read. Quantification of reading makes reading a secondary activity as opposed to the focus, everything becomes reduced to data. So much of life is already reduced to statistics, it seems silly to impose even more rationalization to life.

i'm not really on here anymore, or any virtual platform for that matter. The past few months have been tumultous and I have changed, fundamentally, intensely, a deliberate effort to rebuild and reshape the clay of the earth.

I've reached a greater level of mathematical maturity through ego reduction, I've found an undocumented life to be better, for me. Above all, I've decided the self is a network, it's always moving. Who I am cannot be reduced, it cannot be simplified, it is what I do and what I do is all encompasing and ever changing.