Oh, my bad. I didn't know we were at high-thoughts levels of intimacy yet. I wrote my replies this afternoon while walking to the lab with a bagel hanging out of my mouth; in retrospect, that feels disrespectful somehow. The truth is, I find it difficult to express myself accurately and authentically, anyway. I doubt I would have come up with anything more insightful, even with lowered inhibitions. Wittgenstein has this quote in Philosophical Investigations where he says, "Philosophy is a battle against the bewitchment of our intelligence by means of language" and that line has always stuck with me. I used to drive myself crazy trying to find the precise words to articulate my thoughts but the closer I'd come to getting it right, the more deceptive and misleading I felt I was being. I can't explain what's going on inside me and it feels disingenuous to pretend I’m expressing an objective truth, even about myself. I like to think it's an effect of my powers but maybe I'm just getting dumber. I don't know. Anyway, there's some high-adjacent thoughts for you.
Moving on!!!
I’ll send you a picture to forward to your mom. Mine is a real trip, honestly, and things are a little complicated between us right now. I’ll only tell her about the wedding at the eleventh hour; she can chalk it up to yet another act of rebellion. My dad’s nicer but no more reasonable. But it’s fine, I’ll just handle the fall out when it’s all said and done.
[...] They’re not bad people. They just can’t seem to see things like you and I do. You know, when I was little I used to think the refineries in Houston were sort of beautiful. From far away, they looked like these funky, geometric steam-punk fortresses. I remember really thinking that human progress was a straight line forward. I'd look at those towering monoliths, belching fire and smoke like they were alive, and feel so proud. [...] My parents’ company is responsible for building some of those refineries. And, sometimes, I’ll experience an unexpected surge of pride, even now. And it racks me with guilt.
So, I don’t regret it either. And I don’t think you’re boring.
P.S. - Thank you for the ginseng drinks and Habibi Funk CD. Lovely additions to my evening routine. How was the drive to Albany?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dm [5/25, late]
Date: 2023-05-26 11:52 pm (UTC)Moving on!!!
I’ll send you a picture to forward to your mom. Mine is a real trip, honestly, and things are a little complicated between us right now. I’ll only tell her about the wedding at the eleventh hour; she can chalk it up to yet another act of rebellion. My dad’s nicer but no more reasonable. But it’s fine, I’ll just handle the fall out when it’s all said and done.
[...] They’re not bad people. They just can’t seem to see things like you and I do. You know, when I was little I used to think the refineries in Houston were sort of beautiful. From far away, they looked like these funky, geometric steam-punk fortresses. I remember really thinking that human progress was a straight line forward. I'd look at those towering monoliths, belching fire and smoke like they were alive, and feel so proud. [...] My parents’ company is responsible for building some of those refineries. And, sometimes, I’ll experience an unexpected surge of pride, even now. And it racks me with guilt.
So, I don’t regret it either. And I don’t think you’re boring.
P.S. - Thank you for the ginseng drinks and Habibi Funk CD. Lovely additions to my evening routine. How was the drive to Albany?