dear journal,

it's interesting. ha! that's what I always looked for in my journals. The interesting concepts.
But I find now, or am more aware now, of the world of deterministic thought. The world
where we try to name and connect dots. The one that pleasures the ego, and brings safety.
But those are not necessarily truth, those thoughts, their all speculations, imagination and an
attempt to grasp something that will be both constantly changing, and also eternally
returning. I want to just shine light on my love for Milan Kundera. The way he weaves
philosophy and deep thoughts into his stories, mind fucks me. I have just started reading
The unbearable lightness of being and. in the midst of me thinking upon relationships,
freedom, independence, safety, love, self, necesitty, attchement, detatchment, pain and
sleep AND CUDDLES. I stumble upon this book, exactly at the right time. It astonishes me. I
think the first time I ever felt this same feeling was when I read Jane eyre in 2018, in the
midst of my second relationship where I was constantly on the verge of thinking I was not
enough for him. In Jane eyre, i related so much to being the black sheep of the family,
although she was in a orphanage convent. and when It came to her finding a person she
ardently felt love for, although our differences were not economic, the same eternal feeling of
insegnificance and smallitute, was the same. Now, I dont remember the book very well
anymore, which calls for another read, but lets get back to this other book. If i was ever
going to talk about it. Lets see what happens. First of all, I love post-modernism, and Milan
Kundera is a fucking sexy post-modernist. So i now find myself feeling eternally connected to
post-modernism ever since I stared at a zoom class looking at theatrical concepts. The
fragmentation I experience, the defiance I experience, the direction and destruction I
experience. Is. Tasteful. Full of taste and drought. This feels off track to what I could say.
Which states a strange desire towards linearity in me. But in times like these, nothing feels
too linear, rather feels like i’m in a liminal place, where everything is up for grabs. Where
everything feels as thought, I could just say this and say that is it, but i end up always
saying, yeah, it could be. But what remains is this ardent love. With a confusing amount of
directions and answers. Moving to the story, this man, who through bad experiences and a
divorce finds his love for polyamory and becomes comfortable with being completely
detached. In fact, he cannot even sleep if the woman he's been with stays overnight. He
learns and attunes to a life of giving himself physically, and holding his soul to himself. If he’s
even able to see his soul. He becomes comfortable with this, until he meets a woman he
cant stop thinking about. It takes over him, but simultaneously he knows he has the
possibility to ignore this feeling. He tries to create logic to extricate him from the possible
actions that might lead him into something unknown. He decides not to do anything in fact.
Although these decisions are made in the mind, and alone at most, the universe doesn't stop
having part. The woman, who lives as well in another country, leaves her life there with one
lugage, after one meeting with the man, and comes to his country. Just to inform you reader,
their meeting lasted a few days, where she got sick, and he felt this strong deisre to care of
her. He began to feel a strong love for her, specifically, as if she were a child, as he stated it.
So here they are. She’s opened a door, for herself and, for him. He, in his comfortable state,
is now thrown into a world where he feels strong love, strong, strong feelings of love and
attatchement, all the while his shape and form have become concrete in solitude. All the
forms that we attatch to our bodies, rules and mannerisms, trap us, and make the transition
hard and painful. All the while he feels love, he finds it hard to share his soul or change his
way of living. Which isnt to say that he has to, but the experiences around him, her, create
a place where she needs him to and he feels as though a part of him is being unfairly
ripped. The world begins pushing you into situations that PUSH YOU TO CHANGE and
sometimes it feels like its JUST NOT RIGHT, and as much as one tries to stick to the
security and to a logic that explains it all…one of my recent realisations is it takes time to
digest and process and understand something happening to you in the moment. Our life
philosophy isnt as fast as the digestive system, either way shit comes out of all places, it just
depends how you percieve it. some people say, THIS SHIT is happening to me. which
months later comes to be a FUKCING BLESSING. I dont know where I am going with all
this, but it concretises some things, that reader, you might not always have full context to, as
I don’t either. So, my love, enthrall in the disaster and confusion with me! Life keeps pushing
me and isaac into different countries!